FISH IN WATER

Chamal in Wynad was much like my own village. Perhaps more primitive than mine. The village had no such facilities as electricity, drinking water, roads, school or hospital. The similarities ended there. 

Chamal was an immigrants’ village with the wealthy settlers from South owning majority of the land-holdings and the original inhabitants had to work in their cardamom plantations for a pittance. So many of them had borrowed money from the settlers at high interest rates and spent the rest of their lives in misery. The debt trap often prompted them to work as bonded labour.


The leftist students   were planning a fortnight long camp there. They had already formed an outfit, Viplava Vidyarthi Sanghatana, to enlarge their base in colleges. One of the activists, Balan hailed from Chamal. The student-activists were supposed to live like "fish in water" among village people. A road was being built by villagers of Chamal and the students decided to join them. Three hard-core activists Rajeev, Sasi , Sreeni , prime-movers in their own right planned the trip. They were my class-mates and heroes ! I requested them to include me but I was in for disappointment. The state-level leaders were apprehensive about my unproven credentials. However, I was included at the last minute. Sympathiser was not a status, after all!

Rajeev had even forewarned me,

Englishil thooraruthu

A word of caution to keep my rock music and other oddities under wraps. He feared that my music and freak English would scare away the villagers.

(In fact, the team had set out their journey without me though I caught up with them soon after).

sumedh rajendran

We reached Balan’s house by the evening. His aged father welcomed us heartily though he didn't have any idea about our identity. He was not interested in knowing either. It came naturally to him to give everybody the maximum. Roasted wild boar was served with rice for dinner. The family was very keen in attending to our smallest needs and took it as a part of their duty to do so. We took rest spreading ourselves flat on the mud-covered floor. One of the neighbours sang a song in our honour.

                Vayalar  Vayalar  Vayalar …

                Thy name thrills us….

It was a revolutionary song. The next morning we cleaned our teeth using charcoal made out of paddy husk and set out for taking bath under a lean spring situated at a distance. Sreeni and I were almost midway through the bath when Devayani, the beautiful girl of the house emerged right in front of us.

sumedh rajendran

Don’t you need soap?

She had noticed that we didn't have any soap for taking bath and was running after us with the small piece toilet soap left in the household.

The tough manual labour started from early morning. Pickax in hand, I dueled with the hard ground. The initial enthusiasm waned very soon and I was close to giving up  but had second thoughts. The fear of reprimand from my peers was formidable. The villagers were quick to realize my plight and they relocated me to drinking water supply which meant moving around with a kettle and relax. Cooked rice was served on plantain leaves with tapioca smash. For those who toiled under the sun, the thirty minutes intervals spaced roughly by three hours were moments of bliss. We sat in a large circle under a huge tree and ate the freshly prepared food with great relish. The road was slowly taking shape. One day as we were engaged in our daily work, a boy came running with a message from Thomas, the local landlord. Sasi’s father had reached Chamal after an arduous journey and was waiting at the landlord’s place. He had visited our college first, in search of the young man. The frail, soft-spoken father got the wind that his son was dabbling in extreme-leftism and desperately wanted to have a word with him. The son and his friends had stopped attending classes and scooted all exams.  They had chucked out their studies to become harbingers of change.

Thomas came out from the strongly built house and started cross-questioning us. Rajeev who answered the queries had changed our names and identities but got caught in the act. Obviously Rajeev was no match for him in sharpness. Thomas called us in. Sasi’s father, a medical doctor in government service was waiting inside. He looked tired. The sight of his son lit up the face and he smiled like a just blossomed flower.

Have you written the exams?

Sasi didn't answer.

Aren’t you coming home?

Sasi explained the situation. He conveyed that we were on the midst of a mission and leaving it half done would leave the project unfinished forever. Moreover, the image of good Samaritans that we created among the villagers would also take a severe beating. The doctor listened without uttering a word. But Thomas was on the verge of bursting out. He mused loudly,

If I were in your place, I would have slapped him left and right .

Sasi’s father stood up slowly. He was preparing to leave. I was entrusted to escort him back to the city. Walking downhill to reach the road, I couldn't help asking him a question.

Are you feeling sad, Sir?

“Not at all”, pat came the reply “One has to love the whole mankind in order to become a revolutionary.”

The doctors didn't explain. He just smiled.

Decades later, I find my activist-classmates comfortably placed. Two of them took post-graduation as well as doctorates from well-known Institutes/Universities in India/US and took up teaching.

The third is a high flying globe-trotter.

One of these days, I asked them (via e-mail)

Whatever happened to Balettan?  Have you inquired?

They didn't have any idea. Worse still, they didn't even remember him!

sumedh rajendran

One of them wrote,

“During those years I have come across so many people. I do not know where they are now. They also may not know about me now. Our paths crossed at certain juncture, we shared and enjoyed each other’s company, and then separated”.

That’s not the case, Boss. I replied. Students like Balan quit their studies because you were their role-models. Later on, many leaders rode the crest of the next wave which landed them safely at the shores. The others were at the high-seas. Balettan was the eldest and the only hope of his parents.

I wrote further,

How do you weigh a person? Going by the money, power or fame?  In my opinion, a human-being should be judged by his/her thoughts. Since this is not possible in real-time, the only alternative left is to judge a person by his/her deeds and words. How the person behaves in critical points of life. In heavy weather as well as in sunshine….

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