THE TAMARIND TREE
There was a very old huge Tamarind Tree standing majestically on one side of our vast property spreading its branches like a canopy, on a mould surrounded by rock boulders. We had no idea of its exact age but it had been in existence from the beginning of the 20th century. If its branches were for perching and nestling of various avians, its shade was for anthills near its wide trunk. The unwelcome occupants in the hummock were naturally the snakes. Numerous birds and squirrels used to have a field day on the property. The moonlit nights made the tree look more mysterious.
When we children were not playing around, it would be the crawling creatures with their raised hoods looking amused at Homo sapiens in broad daylight ! This spectacle was disturbing to some weak souls. However much we ignored their presence, others were nagging and complaining. They wanted to hire the services of a snake catcher. We were not supportive of the idea.
When a snake is not around, these timid humans offer milk. When a snake appears, they kill or cry for help. A sham religious devotion and practice.
It was also a landmark in the area with its conspicuous position. It was not possible for us to climb over its wide trunk in spite of our best efforts and attempts. The numerous playful squirrels that used to run up and down were sometimes the unsuspecting victims of the cruel squirrel catchers. The modus operandi of the gang was to spread a half raised large net some distance around the tree trunk. Small pebbles were thrown at the thick branches to frighten away the little animals from their hideouts who would come running down the trunk, only to get trapped in the net. We never permitted the squirrel trapping if it was brought to our notice.
Protecting the tender green tamarind fruits from the flock of noisy parrots was a task for the keepers. A tin box was kept upside down on the tree branch with an iron rod hanging in it, something like an improvised gong, to produce a rattling sound when the rope was pulled from below. All that was fun with concern in the forlorn situation. Whatever was saved was saved. Whatever was lost was not.
Our house was a Nizam period building constructed in the early 1900’s or thereabouts in a pyramid fashion with a country-tiled roof sloping on all four sides. The central building pre-existed before our family acquired the entire property. The planks and rafters used were of teak wood as the doors and windows. The height of the central hall was some 25 feet or so from the floor level. The frontal part, intended as a sit-out, was terraced. Wooden striped lattices, serving as doors and windows allowed full ventilation and aeration. Of course this design transparency did not allow any personal privacy was another matter. It exposed the insiders’ more than it concealed !
The 16 roomed house was more a challenge to maintain than a comfort to live. The arched rooms, no wonder, gave the feeling of a monument to strangers.
The kitchen had an inbuilt chimney for the firewood smoke to exit. The openings, like pigeon-holes above, was also a passage downwards for some adventurous birds to make an unsuspecting entry into the kitchen out of curiosity. Having dived through the openings, they could not find their way back up from the same route, fluttering wings in panic, they remained hovering inside. As a consequence, the womenfolk who were busy with cooking chores would run away from the kitchen ! It was not a singular intrusion of the kind.
The sprawling structure was surrounded by nearly two acres of land in its original form. The vast open land was vulnerable to trespassing. It was a shortcut to the main road for some which could not be prohibited as no compound wall or gate existed. The simian aerial intrusion sometimes into our property disturbing the tranquility was unpreventable. The animals too had an unhindered passage as we see more later down the story. There used to be a water trough on the main road towards our property boundary for horses and animals to drink water.
The whole house had vintage flavour and features distinct. The greenery all around gave the impression of a hermitage. The spiritually wise felt the design was more suitable for non mundane experiences ! Perhaps the pyramid setting influenced their conclusions. Whatever the occult findings, we continued to live unmindful, as the large family had no luxury of material choices that involved huge investments whether it was a matter of fortune or misfortune. Imaginary or real.
How the compulsive ambience enlivened the inner spirit was a matter of conjecture. But the truth remains. No one was free from the pressures of life. The so-called God Men were also not exempted, whatever be the outward appearances. The shadow follows.
Be that as it may, we siblings grew up in such circumstances till the vagaries of life and time had its toll on the vestige.
As Alfred Lord Tennyson said:
“The old order changeth yielding place to new And God fulfills himself in many ways. Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me I have lived my life and that which I have done May he within himself make pure but thou If thou shouldst never see my face again Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.”
Coming to the animal encounters, my mind reminds me of the donkey times. These days the proverbial companions of the washermen are not seen roaming in towns. Evidently the method of washing has changed and members of the social community who used to do the work in the earlier days as a profession have become educated and have taken up other jobs. As a result the domesticated animals have lost their masters and the burden of their work. They themselves have become extinct in our towns these days.
But in the earlier days these species were seen commonly in towns and villages. Their vocal talent was not generally appreciated and was always a subject of ridicule.
In the 1960’s the summer time was not as oppressive as of now. We used to sleep in the open during nights to get some natural air. I used to sleep on a separate narrow wooden bench just two feet wide and five feet long.
One night I fell down in deep sleep from the plank and landed beside a sleeping donkey. Mercifully the animal’s sleep was not disturbed by my fall !
Another time an incident happened that made us lose our sleep one winter night. We children were alone at home while the elders were away from town. The window was kept closed that night partly out of fear and partly due to the winter chill.
About midnight we heard some sound disturbing our sleep in the silence of the night. The noise was something like a moan, and was not clear to us as we were sleeping in a side room but it became more audible as if someone was mildly pushing one of the front doors constantly. We had no courage to utter a word, leave alone to open the window or door to check the cause of the disturbance.
Time passed in uneasiness and the sound subsided. We fell asleep until dawn. In the brightness of the morning when the door was opened, lo! there was a donkey with her new born baby foal !
A female donkey, if she can, will choose to be alone when she gives birth. The donkey leaving her master found our house comfortable to deliver at our doorstep. That was some donkey sense. A door delivery indeed !
This incident, I think, will make an interesting narrative as a bedtime story to grandchildren.
Some have their destinies connected to properties and places. The inexplicable and weird interlinks have their indelible impact on individual lives however we may wish it away as nothing supernatural. Many things changed during the years including the setting.
The trees and anthills have disappeared as the houses. The boundaries have shrunk. I have slid into a small part of the property to live in a smaller dwelling.
But my affinity with snakes continues. They keep visiting me even now. Sometimes crossing my path or by peeping inside from the main door out of curiosity. I am not sure how and where they breed. Not a comfortable sequence surely.
Maybe the mystical indices and sundry dream sequences were not without significance. Decades ago somebody like a soothsayer hinted about the “snaky connections” to be understood in a metaphysical sense.
“It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.” — Aristotle.
All the lower creatures did not harm us, as did the untrustworthy superior human beings. That is the irony of life.
ESKAYEN
