A vacation at Vadakkath

Summer holidays, in the 1970s and 1980s, meant a 3 days train journey from Delhi to Thrissur or to Ernakulam and spending 2 blissful months in God’s own country. It meant carefree days in the sun in Guruvayur, my mother’s home or in Ernakulam with my cousins Sunil, Nandini, Laksmi and Sankar.

For all of us, one of the highlights of the vacation, was our 2-3 day trip to Vadakkath with Achamma and Valiachan and my father and many times with my cousins from Ernakulam. Achamma and Valiachan would come to Guruvayur for a couple of days and my Amumma would start preparations to make their stay in our Guruvayur tharavad comfortable and full of joy. We would go to Vadakkath from my home in Guruvayur a distance of 25kms in our dear Landmaster car. We would stop at Kunnamkulam to buy bottles of Horlicks, “english” vegetables to take to our family in Vadakkath and then we would drive through Edapal and then reach Vadakkath. It would usually be noon by the time we reached and Ammayi and Gopalamamman and Susheeledati would be waiting for us. We as children ran inside the house and our first activity was to slide down the wooden bannister without falling and jump and sit down at the bottommost stair. We would patiently wait for each one of us to finish the ritual and then the adults would call us for lunch. Sitting on the floor, close to the adults on the tables, we would relish hot rice with “sambar”, “kallan” and “mezhukkuvarrati” with pappadam and then I would wait for some sambharam to be poured on to the remaining rice on my leaf. That done by about 1p.m. we we be free to roam around the “parambu”, see the ponds and plan for an evening swim session. This would mean getting permission from the adults and their decision on the timings. They would all be catching up with each other on the family and the village.

Come evening we would frolick in the “kollam” and we would show off our swimming talent to each other. The water seemed to have a thickness and it was very refreshing. We could spot fish in the water both small and big. We were told to allow them to come near us and that fish bite cures small wounds on our legs and hands. It was an additional excitement if Raman was there with us because he would make us sit on his back and swim to the other end of the “kollam” and back, one of us at a time singing “…..Shalrmilee or meri Sharmilee” rather loudly. We dried ourselves on the steps of the pond and just at the top step was a Parijata tree that flowered during the summer and we would collect the fallen flowers in our frocks and bring them home to make small garlands of them for our hair.

We then walked to the “Annakkara Shiva Kshetram” where Susheeledati will lead the rendition on a namam whoich I remember as follows –

“Shamba Sada Shiva Shambo Shankara, Sharanamme tava charana yugam

Devi Maheshwari Parvati Shankari, Sharanamme tava charana yugam

Chottanikkara vazhum Devi, Sharanamme tava charana yugam……”

Dinner was mostly sambar and rice with a new “mazhukkuvaratti”. We would all sleep in the hall upstairs, some of us on “paya” with a pillow and some with a sheet and a pillow.

Next day morning after a breakfast of “Idlis and Dosas” with a raw oinion chutney that I still cherish and we make regualryly at home and fondly call it ulli samandi and many times we fondly remember the taste of this ulli sammandi made at Vadakkath. There would be a Bhagavad Geeta class being held for the children of the neighbourhood in one end of the center courtyard and we would wait for them to finish because with them we would also get bananas with the children who came to learn the Geeta. I loved walking thourgh the house, holding hands with Laksmi, while the boys ran around. We would go and sit in the attic where grain would have been spread to dry. We would walk to the cowshed as we found out the names of the cows.

When I think of Vadakkath what comes to my mind are my family, kind and warm, the “kennar” attached to the kitchen which to my child’s eyes was deep and the water from the well tasted somewhat smoky, the small sink where we washed our glasses and hands, the “kollam” and distant chants of “Shambasadashiva………”