Therez a Tropical Forest in the Backyard

From where I was perched, I got an aerial view of a green canopy of intertwined branches and leaves. From somewhere deep within, white smoke was steadily spiraling upwards. Visually, it was very 'Last of the Mohicans". A little native Indian village, sending out smoke signals to neighboring tribes.

Only, it was my 94 year old grandfather boiling water in a large aluminum cauldron over an indigenously designed brick chulha . The dried garden leaves and twigs used to feed the fire were kicking up quite some smoke. This had been a customary practice in recent winters at my Grandparents' place in Chennai. Those who know Chennai, would also know it never really gets cold there. But when the weather is less warm than usual, a little hot water for daily chores, certainly doesn't hurt.

In the late 80s and early 90s, I spent quite a few summer vacations with my maternal grandparents. I was both terrified and curious about these trips. Terrified, as my grandpa was a total disciplinarian, a total tough task master with set notions of right and wrong. I being the youngest of the cousins, was the easiest victim to pick on. Curious, as the stay was always a wholesome, heterogeneous mixture of activities that, as an after thought I think have been both fun and educational.

My grandfather or "Appa" as we all know him, is the senior most member of the family and quite a personality at that. He is an animated storyteller, is widely traveled and has a penchant for unconventional humor. He was a stickler for good health, physical exercise, yoga, and alternative medicines. He still is. We would look forward to those sessions about experiences from his childhood days, life of a Brahmin boy in the Kerala villages, schooling in those days, days of his career as a metallurgist with TATA Steel, his visits to foreign shores, the people, the food, religion, changing socio economic scenarios and so on. His pet subject though is "Vedanta".

All family members, at least once in their life time, have attended "Chinnaswami's" Vedanta lectures. Appa would speak for hours on philosophies from the Vedas and Upanishads, from the Bhagvad Gita, concepts of the cosmic universe, the Aatman, the Brahman and Karma. When I was younger I would keep nodding faking my best attentive look, fighting to keep my eyes open, and stifling yawns.

So that's where I got trained to survive three hour long lectures at B School. Hmmmmm...

On a more serious note, I have pretty much gotten hooked onto Vedanta now and feel deeply blessed to have been initiated to it early enough in life. Discipline, both physical and spiritual is tough initially, but always necessary. Today, I am sold to Appa's teachings.

Appa is also passionate about gardening and his gardening tools, that he makes himself. It is well known that he turned the barren, beach sand-filled garden area surrounding his apartment into a tropical garden of sorts. In the early days he faced quite some opposition from neighbors concerned about the limited Chennai water being used to grow plants. Now of course, we all know they are quite thankful. Not only in his own backyard, Appa is said to have also planted Neem trees in and around the Besant Nagar Area. Self imposed mission to "greenify" sandy hot Besant Nagar. Very selfless. Very brave.

The backyard had an assortment of plants and trees growing in gay abandon. They were all healthy and productive. Mangos, Coconuts, Guava, Lemon, Pineapple(!), Papaya, Berries, Curry leaves, Hibiscus, Jasmine and other flowers used for prayer.

My favorite pastime was to graze around the garden, smelling, plucking and eating the leaves and fruits. Something passed on to me by my mother. She did that a lot too, as a kid. The ultimate thrill was my broom stick bow and arrow set. I would sneak up behind unsuspecting chameleons and shoot blunt arrows at them. Some would scuttle away like all hell was breaking loose, some would hop a few paces and some would just roll their eyes! "Humans!!" They seemed to be exclaiming.

The ultimate rush was watching them change colors. Sometimes they could be really repulsive to look at though, especially when they were between changing shades. The garden was full of them in all colors and sizes. The large ones were mini dinosaurs really. Red, Orange, Yellow, Browns, Black and combinations of all of the above. Once I saw a pitch black one with a single bright vermilion streak running through the middle from head to toe. Pretty designer. And then another that turned from a golden brown to beet red and back to a dull orange!

There were other attractions too. The upstairs neighbor bred a huge family of pet cats and dogs. It was always a pleasure to run up and play with the furry chaps. I love animals and the felines are my personal favorites. The oldest cat was Dolly. A golden brown pudgy tabby with one bad eye. Since the main entrance to Appa's home was always ajar in those days, we would invariably be visited by one from the cat family. Mostly Dolly. She was the senior most, she took the liberty. With folds of fat bulging under her lustrous coat, she would waddle through the house in a slow steady gait, finding her way to the garden through sofa legs, couches, footwear and people.

It was a pleasure watching her stalk little yellow butterflies, crouching in the green grass, and attacking only to miss. A la Nat Geo tigress hunting a pack of deer.

I once brought home a crab, from the Besant Nagar beach, which was two minutes by walk from the house. I had scooped him up with the wet sand he was spread out on and held him between both palms. He made no protest whatsoever. The occasional slipping of the sand from between my fingers, did lead to some activity between my palms that tickled the life out of me. But I survived. My well-meaning intentions of adding to the diverse flora and fauna in the backyard, were thwarted, when my mum ordered me to leave it back. Apparently the crabby kinds needed to be close to sea water to survive. Okay, i didn't know that.

And so, crab and I walked back to Besant Nagar beach.

The animal kingdom must find humans very arbit.

My take home for the day was that, If a creature was not already inhabiting an area, without your assistance, then it probably shouldn't be there.

There were also these little challenges that Appa threw at us. Once he challenged me to weave a Coconut tree leaf. The weave that was used to build thatched roofs. He demonstrated once and left me with the warning that the job needed skill and patience. I was eager to prove to my grandfather that I had grown up and was a little less stupid than he thought me to be. I got the weave right in my very first attempt. It was exhilarating!! I was awarded ten rupees for the feat that I treasured like a souvenir for several days. Then of course greed took over.

The ceremonies of ceremonies, was the Mango plucking ceremony :) At the age of 70, Appa could climb not only Mango trees but also the tall and treacherous Coconut trees. My brother and cousin brothers would try one by one, with constant ebbing and encouragement from Appa. I was sent up Mango trees too! It was great fun. The Mango ceremony deserves a blog of its own!

Food is an integral part of a celebration and summer vacations were nothing short of one. It was truly incomplete without my Grandmum's simple, healthy and yummy food! Keerai Molakootal, Saambaar, Mor Kootan, Avial, Olan, hot idlis with lemony coconut chutney and paper crisp dosas with Molaga Podi! Her name is "Annapoorni", which literally means "the Goddess of food grains in Indian Mythology". She sure has lived up to her name! We call her "Ammai". Ammai also has the uncanny knack of finding lost items. She will not rest till the missing item has been found. One would have forgotten about it, but she would still be gathering information on its last known location, appearance and dimensions.

Almost twenty years since, the pace has definitely slackened around Appa and Ammai's home, but the spirit still remains. The plants have thinned down in numbers, but the tropical forest is still as mysterious. Dolly and Co. are long deceased, but the countless little creatures flitting in the garden still remind me of her cuddly self and her hunting antics. The beach has several little descendants of the golden crab I carried home and back, and the occasional chameleon that I pass by still rolls its eyes at me.

Sigh! What wonderful days they were of being a child, of discovering, of learning, of making mistakes and still having fun. Of being nurtured by the love of our elders, of our families in ways that we didn't understand then, but are thankful for today.

I guess in some way or the other we all continue to be children forever and thank God for that.