What the Wind said ...
Wel
come to Manjeri !
“Have I reached Manjeri”,
a fellow passenger asked time and again.
Obviously he was on his virgin journey to the heart land of Ernad.
“Don’t worry friend, it will be announced soon!”
Somebody consoled him.
“A whiff in the wind is to greet you, “Welcome to Manjeri”.
Just wait and enjoy!!”
No sooner the visitor got the import of what I said than he got the unpleasant odour right from
Vazhaparappadi where Manjeri begins.
The bus kept moving. The sickening whiff fondled past every nose.
“Okay… this is Manjeri . Manjeri Manjeri”,
the Cleaner started twittering in a nasalized tone.
Our guest passenger found suffocating under the unexpected repulsive attack, put his handkerchief fast over
the nose and mouth, stumbled down at Kacherippadi--the gateway to the city. He got the true feel of Manjeri ;
inhaled the breath and soul of Manjeri to the core!
I was teaching functional English, Unit 2: how to express your Likes and Dislikes, in a plus-one class.
Most of them were, like the passenger, new-comers in Manjeri, freshies at a school in the heart (in fact, belly!)
of the city.
Asked about the thing hated most in Manjeri, they said:
the stomach-churning stink enter your nostrils when you enter the city .
The disgusting whiff from the passing Municipal wagon; stench of the rotten animals welcome you to Manjeri city.
To some it’s the nauseating traditional reek around the Manjeri market behind the old bus-stand.
No sir, it’s the cow-dung you stumble upon while crossing the New Bus stand. Some others said,
the cows and their dump family that patrol the streets on holydays. The legitimate owners of the bus-stands.
They dine at the bus stands in the nights.
The new admits had a variety of detested things in the city; they enumerated:
the villainous and confrontational bus service from Manjeri is legendarily infamous; the ravenous bus crew at both stations; the insatiable business community that dwells behind the streets; nuisance of the avaricious street peddlers and traders grasping on the foot-paths in Pandikkad road; the unruly, boisterous auto-rickshaws, lined up along the sideway from new to old busstand as if the cub-elephants in Trissur Pooram; irritatingly uncontrollable traffic at the central bazaar; footpath blocks intermittently created by wander-thirst NRIs’ house wives, busy employed ladies, beggars and students. As a result, human body collisions are often reported!
This is Pandikad road. Manjeri is brought up and quite alive here.
Street sellers yelled,
“Walli, Pully, Kalli…
Gents under garments and ladies lingerie for sale,sale sale….
Sellers raised them past over the hips and bumpers of passing country house-wives.
“Thaatha, this suit you the most, take one, dead cheap!, stop there or gently pass…
no price for seeing… touch ‘em.. feel the smoothness…. a perfect match for your corporal statistics”,
they explained to those lingered around the displayed lingeries .
The unnoticed foot-wear merchants in the narrow inner shopes have assigned some street urchins
to raise a pair of sandals over the face of every passersby and to cry: ”cheap rate.. cheap…”
Hungry pharmacist voraciously beckoned every pedestrian for a purchase as if selling fish in the Meen Marcket.
The crowded cloth-marts suffocated with elderly women in purdha with their kith and kins and young ladies in skinny transparent attires with their would-bes.
Beggars found prostrate upon the concrete slabs, collecting coins to a towel spread over near the huge electric post, under which a couple of shoe-polishers have engaged in stitching ladies sandals and repairing umbrellas. The aqua fish seller chewed pan before a modulated shout:
“Katla, Vaala, Cheraan, African Muzhi … most suitable for every water resources, tanks, ponds and house wells…
take them together with family…”
On the foot-paths, Samadhani’s cassettes heralded the commencement of another holy month, Ramadhan.
Peddlers appeared with cassettes and cds, knives and utensils; Arabian dates, cashew and dry grapes.
Manjeri started steaming and simmering on Pandikkad roadsides. Manjeri is busy frying and baking
Ramdhan special items: they roasted samosa, cutlet, vadaas, baked porota and variety of appams on the side ways.
Manjeri is scorching and sizzling, sweating and sweltering on and behind the foot paths of Pandikkad Road Street.
The wind kept saying:
“This is Manjeri and Manjeri is sweating and sweltering in the dense pandikkad road”. (end)
--ptsalam
============================================================================================================== 8.8.2011
