Tharavadu

Recently I was in Kerala in connection with obtaining two certificates connected with my life - one a birth certificate and the other my marriage certificate. I never felt the need for both till this day but my daughter suggested that I obtain them in case it may become necessary to apply for a green card.

I always wonder about the change of attitude that had taken place in my mind. Whenever I visit Kerala and my home 'tharavadu', I feel guilty that I did not take any worthwhile measures that were perhaps within my means to safeguard it from its present ruins. This guilt is very painful as I have very strong feelings about this house with its once green backyard.

When I felt ready to begin my working life, getting a suitable job in Kerala was considered very difficult. As most others have done before me, I too left Kerala in search of a job and landed in Bombay. But I had the feeling at the back of my mind, that my tharavadu will remain as I had left it. From an age that I could remember, my grandmother did her best to enhance the prestige of the tharavadu without destroying anything that had been built by her predecessors. She in fact spent on its upkeep, from her own meager resources. Her life was one dedicated for the welfare of the tharavdu and I always felt her presence, whenever I visited the house. But on my short trips back I started noticing small changes and even some significant ones.But the desire to stand on my own legs was very strong and left me with no choice. I suppressed my true feelings about the house. I suppose I left those feelings at the very bottom of my heart and never once expressed it. Being a common property with a number of claimants’ to it, perhaps my feelings towards the house was the correct one. I was emotionally attached to the house and prepared to look after it spending from own pocket but like my grandmother I did not expect anything for myself from there.

But those succeeded my grandmother and our immediate group, which we call thavazhi did everything to destroy it. One by one they removed the tall trees and once they finished them, started selling anything which had a resale value from the house. They even succeeded in demolishing one beautiful portion of the house mainly for its good quality teak woods. When I saw the bare grounds after the portion of the building was brought down for its woods, I felt that my grandmother's soul would have left not only from the house but also from its surrounding compound. As per then prevailing practice, she was cremated at the tharavadu, on her death in the early 80s. After her death, whenever I visited the place, I felt at peace while standing at the very ground where she was cremated as I considered it as a sreekovil of the temple. The sight and presence of the ground gave me immense peace of mind.

We also had a huge collection of big vessels that was sufficient to prepare food for a number of people on occasions like marriage and other large functions. I remember during our younger days, we used to get papadams and nenthrakkaya whenever our neighbors came to borrow these huge vessels in connection with such functions in their house. Now I do not find any such vessels in the house. The saddest part of the story is that those vessels were sold for a pittance and its proceeds were spent on day to day necessities.

The processes of getting the certificates are on. Perhaps one these days the papers will come and the desire to be with our grandchildren may take us out of this country. In the meantime, my prayers would be that we save enough money to do something to protect what is left at our home. Should we choose to re-construct the portion of the house that was demolished or go for something say a separate small house in the compound with all its complications? I am still unable to make up my mind. But I wish to could do something at my place which I can say is mine, even though, from a legal angle, may not be entirely mine.