Our Amma, Moothedath Janaky Amma celebrated 84th birthday (piranal) on March 29th, 2011. In Indian Hindu culture it is called ശതാബ്ദി (Satabdhi) which in turn means that the person lived long enough to see 1000 full moons. Amma is keeping reasonably good health and we are all blessed to participate in the function. Vijayam (Amma’s second daughter and the last among seven of us) could not attend the function due to unavoidable circumstances.
Here are some pictures from this function. The first link is the highlights of the function and the second one is the full function. The first link works like a movie clip and I added the song Ammayallathoru Daivam from the old Malayalam movie Sambavaami Yuge Yuge (1972)
The second part of this page is the excerpts from the wonderful piece of work A Thousand Tribute from Mchettan.
Karutha sat at the steps to the grain silo house . He had his 5th grade book in hand. Amma had ordered revision of History lessons . March final exam was a week away.
Karutha’s mind was restless and agitated, for reasons unknown to him. Grudgingly, he flipped the pages and pretended reading, while stealing glances to the scenes in front in an effort to calm down.
It was a sultry Sunday morning. The only weekly holiday Amma had. Amma was briskly moving in the field gathering dry leaves , tweaks of wood ….. anything that could be burnt in the make shift fire place, below the huge mango tree…. where ,raw grain from the silo was being cooked to prepare boiled rice. Three huge laterite stones and a pit in the middle made the fireplace. On top of the stones sat the cooking vessel….. a huge copper vessel with a bulging belly , wide neck and an aluminium plate covering the rim.
Sun was awake in the east… hiding behind the main house on left. Beyond the house, the sunrays scattered thro the chambakka tree weaving bright kaleidoscopic patterns.
In front of him , was a sort of courtyard, cowdung plastered and clean. When grain is cooked, water is decanted and wet grain spread on paya (bamboo mats ) on the courtyard for drying. It was then sent for dehusking to get the brown rice, our staple food .
On the amara pandal beyond the courtyard, sat two crows … loudly crowing as though in a morning quarrel.
In a shallow pit on right, grew an enormous chembu ( tuber ) with three large leaves on long stems. As the Teflon smooth leaves swayed in gentle breeze , beads of morning dew rolled on them as glistening pearls..
Karutha’s thoughts were shifting to amma. He disliked and protested amma’s never-ending drudgery. He envisioned amma in gold brocaded mundu and vesti and chandanapottu on forehead making pratakshinam at the Siva temple…. looking prettier than all other women making rounds of the temple quadrangle... waves of anger were surging within , awakening the rebel in Karutha . His hatred for the history lessons in hand grew many fold. India’s glorious freedom struggle , even more glorified sacrifices of the great leaders made no sense to him… as right in front , his amma went on toiling...
The plate on the vessel was making a rhythmic clatter pushed by boiling froth inside….. mimicking the plate at the feet of a Kuchipudi dancer he had once seen inVadakkunathan temple. Steaming froth spewed out through the gaps splashing on the vessel’s Mahabali belly . The grain is cooked. Amma and help Mary rush to the spot ….. no time is wasted…the hot wet grain is drained of water and carried to the courtyard for drying.
Ash from the pit is scooped and dumped in a 3 feet pit on back of grain house. The pit also served as a punishment place for his younger siblings when they quarrelled…..dumping them in turns , so they could not smear their head and face with ash as they continued the fight.. an added job for amma to clean them up..
The batch process go on . Amma and Mary were climbing up the steps to get more raw grain from silo. Karutha stiffened his posture and pretended in intense reading. Fear was gripping Karutha though , at the thoughts of the question and answer session to follow later in the day. Amma was his idol… an intellectual colossus who knew all answers….. even more than Lakshmy teacher in School. The Quit India movement, Salt yathra , Jalianwalla bhag massacre .. Amma knew everything to the last detail. Karutha knew well she cannot be fooled.
Amma was a rank holder in SSLC exam. When she was withdrawn from Junior college at age 16 or 17, the principal, a good hearted nun was
in sobs. “ Janaky is an IAS material. let her continue studies… “. The principal pleaded while mildly rebuking ammumma. But a marriage proposal from a more aristocratic Pallath family was not easy to spurn. Karutha heard this story many times from ammumma...
Achan ( father ) will be back from Punkunnam ( Pallath house ) in the evening. While applying body oil before bath, he will enquire of amma if Karutha answered all the questions right. Karutha feared the severe dressing down to follow if amma’s reply was not favourable... Karutha sort of carried the tag of a rebel or nonconformist. And in Achan’s judgment needed closer mentoring than his smoother behaving chettan ( elder brother ).
An ominous whistle of the oncoming steam loco shook Karutha from his reverie. Beyond the pond and bamboo fence, is the rail track. Trains made a shrill whistle on negotiating a nearby bend. The bend created a blind spot for the driver and had the reputation as a suicide spot. Many had taken their lives jumping in front of train. The whistle was to serve a last minute jolt before one took the drastic step. Why should one take his own life… may be unbearable sorrow or pain. Karutha struggled for an answer as the monstrous beast thundered along shaking the earth below….. as if in a loud protest on life unjust and unfair..
Death , snake and lightning were three things Krautha dreaded most.. Visions of Muthachan’s ( amma’s father ) death sprang up in his mind. Muthachan’s body lay covered in white in the narrow akayi ( cental room ) of main Moothedath house. Two coconut halves with burning oil lamps were at the feet. A ceremonial nilavilakku with many vicks flickered to stay alive. Ammumma sat close by weeping inconsolably. Amma was on her side and in her own stoical stillness. Devucheriamma ( amma’s younger sister – who was born brain deficient ) made some muted noise.. Death is so macabre even she sensed it was no occasion for her usual loud childlike attention seeking protests.
Outside, a bamboo ladder (horizontal) with a woven mat floor was getting ready (gurney). “shavam edukkarayo (can the body be moved) “ The leader of group enquired of achan for consent. Achan , as customary of him , seemed in complete control of the situation.
The body was lifted and carried away. Everyone cried . Karutha also cried.
Karutha sensed Ravunny menon of yesterday is called a body today….. soul ,the essence of life having escaped from him.. An hour from now even that body will perish over the pyre…. an obituary in the news paper next day and few whispered gossips for a few days, the village will forget him. A generation or two later, no one will know one Maruthur Ravunny menon existed….. even in the family . Did Karutha know the names of Ravunny menon’s achan and amma ? . Everyone passes into complete oblivion. But ammumma had told him soul is imperishable and reincarnates in another body. Karutha felt even more inadequate at his ignorance on these puzzling questions. His comfort was however that amma knew all answers.
But aren’t Gandhi and Nehru in his book immortals …. forcing Karutha to mug up stories on their lives.. They made lengthy speeches on unity and equality . Yet , they all looked so different . Tilak was in a fancy head gear , Gandhi in a scanty loin cloth , Nehru in a distinguished dress with a rose flower adorning his button hole... For Karutha it seemed a bizarre dichotomy. He knew Amma’s history will be written more straight and simple as she is.
The Sun was in it’s relentless climb in the azure sky. In the searing heat, Amma was spreading the partly dry grain with her feet . It was well past noon and Karutha felt hunger pangs in the pit of his stomach . Sombre thoughts on pain and sorrow resurfaced his mind. Is that life all sorrow and pain ... giving birth is painful , death is grisly and sorrowful , amma’s endless struggles cause him great agony. His only wish then was that amma was not in pain…… and he lifted his pretended gaze from the book to meet amma’s eyes. To his relief , Amma’s face betrayed no pain. It was pretty, serene and calm as she wiped sweat with a thorthmundu on shoulder. She has possibly stashed all her pain in the deepest crevices of her mind….her own lonely world… or perhaps for the Karmayogi in her , the desires were too small to feel any anguish or pain…………………
Karutha…. dark skinned , Katha …. Story , Payas …. woven bamboo mats
Amma…. mother , Achan …. Father , Ammumma .….grandmother , Muthachan….. grand father ( amma’s father )
Devucheriamma …. amma’s younger sister
amara pandal .. bamboo grid for bean creeper ..
Karmayogi…… one doing ordained duties seeking no reward.
Ammuma
Ammuma, Amma and Devucheriyamma 
Achan and Amma
