Prelude to “cmr story”
{ Madurai
“Narayanan alias Nana”
Listen Boy, stop crying and hear me first.
The booming voice of his father silenced Nana and he looked up.
No more murmuring and no more shouting at your mother. - Ok.
You are not a child any more. –
It is my decision and I can’t help it…….
The situation is like that……
You have got to get married. – Don’t show your face like that….
Oh yes, that is important before we migrate from this place.
It means you are going to be the man of the house!
It will be a new house for you in a new place. – That is all.
Before he could respond or react, his father had gone.
Nana, the adolescent boy of eleven, remained speechless.
He could not control his tears as his mother came around to hug him and console.
There are times when circumstances decide and dictate our actions and we are forced to take decisions, far removed from our own desires.
One such instance was the happenings in the year AD1760, at Madurai
It happened to many families of responsible officers, who were closely connected with confidential affairs in the administration of Madurai Meenakshi Sundareswar temple.
Among the privileged lot housed with in the temple was a family of Srivatsa clan. Narayanan alias Nana, born in1749, was the only child in that brahmin family.
Choice-less and duty-bound, the elders followed instructions from top.
They hurriedly planned to pack and shift their families to go to unknown destinations. Ignorant of the place of their re-settlement, all they knew was that the purpose of the move, shrouded with secrecy, was for greater good and that they will be taken care of and will be duly compensated more than their own expectations.
This move also forced elders in the family to decide on early marriages that were to be even earlier than the usual age of 15 or more for boys and 12 or less for girls.
In those days, child marriages were meant to unite families more than uniting the bride and groom who were, after all, too young to know the meaning and purpose of wedlock.
When elders take such decisions, the most affected were the helpless children, invariably kept in dark and left to learn things only through observation and inferences.
No wonder Narayanan was very upset and angry over such stupid decisions.
He was too scarred of his father to ask for the reason.
The ladies of the house were of no help being ignorant themselves.
He couldn’t comprehend things happening around him.
All that he knew was about what he will miss – His enviable childhood.
He will also miss his distant cousin Meenu, who would get married and left behind.
Separation with his play-mates and friends was unthinkable but it was now inevitable.
In such depressed mood, his mind started scanning places inside the ‘Meenakshi’ temple. Its original name was ‘Chokkanathar’ temple once. - It was Nana’s home with in home.
He could vividly picture in his mind, those places with long corridors and big pillars where, as small boys, he and his friends played ‘Hide and Seek’ game. They were places open to public only for specified hours of the day and many not at all. - But, they were accessible to Nana and friends all time of the day, though they knew not why.
Later years, they explored the nook and corner of the rectangular temple. (730 x 850 ft.)
Helped by the ever friendly watchmen, they once climbed up inside the four gopurams.
Their favorites, in particular, were the famous quartette, namely, ‘Kilikatti Mandapam’; ‘Kambaththadi Mandapam’; ’Ayiram kal Mandapam’ and ‘Puthu Mandapam’.
He remembered how confused he was when he found people telling different names for the same. - For example, what he knew as Kambaththadi Mandapam was also called ‘Kodikkambu mandapam’ by temple servants. - The same was ‘Sundareswar mandapam’ for the ‘Prohits’ but it was ‘Dwajasthamba mandapam’ for his father and temple officials.
Whatever the name, it was the one located in the eastern side second prakaram and faced the ‘Swami Sannidhi Gopuram’, at the entrance of which were two gigantic sculptures of Dwarapalakas, unusually less intimidating and more dignified in their appearance.
On the other hand, Nana still remembered being quite afraid as a small boy, seeing the life-size Nandi statue. - He was even more afraid to go any where near to those four magnificent pillars that had ten feet high statues carved on it, portraying the fearful looking ‘Badra Kali’; Urdhva Thandavar ; Aghora Virabhadrar and Agni Virabhadra.
Otherwise, he was happy with so many other things in that place. - There were pillars with sculptures such as Meenakshi Kalyanam, Somaskandar, kailasarudar etc.
Now his thoughts switched over to the next. -The ‘Kilikatti Mandapam’, located west of ‘Golden Lily Tank’ and on way to ‘Amman Sannadi’. – The other name for this was ‘Pancha Pandavar Mandapam. - It was the most ornamental of all mandapams. –
It had a single corridor with richly carved pillars on both sides.
Nana had counted ten statues showing five Pandavas, Vali, Sugriva, Purushamriga, Draupathi and Siva as a hunter. Between some of the pillars was the usual ‘Yali’ motif, while there were two huge ‘Dwarapalaka’ statues on each side of the entrance.
He then thought of the thousand pillar mandapam. – He once had a bet with his friends to count the number of pillars and they managed only up to a figure of 985.
May be there were more pillars, hidden between walls on both sides of it.
It was a possibility. – Yes. – It was because Nana was able to recollect one past incident.
Once, during a hide and seek game, he was hiding behind a pillar, unaware that his friends had been chased away when the ‘Thalavai’, walked in followed by few others.
( Thalavai, (or ‘Dalavey’ as pronounced by the British) was the title for prime minister.
The group was lead by temple servants carrying ‘Theevatti’ (Lit fire wood). –
Nana’s father was also in the group along with the ‘Pradani’. (Finance minister)
He saw the team going through a dark passage, halting near the wall for some time, before disappearing into it. - Nana took the opportunity to rush out, unnoticed.
So, there must be secret doors and also hidden secrets behind the wall……..
The loud voice of his grandma calling him ended the chain of thoughts and Nana was back to his present. He never once imagined that all these will be left behind soon.
He now knew how lucky he was so far and how unlucky he will be with out them.
May be, the true value of something will be known only in its absence.
Things started moving fast in the next few weeks.
Nana came out of his depression soon, as marriage preparations started.
He cheered up having become the centre of attraction as a bride-groom.
He felt proud to be addressed as ‘Mappillai’ by his uncle and many others.
Nana suddenly felt much grown-up and mentally attaining the man-hood.
Nana was yet to be told who the bride was. – So what?
Who ever the bride, she will be the one called wife for him to shout at and boss over.
That was what father did like every other husband. - But he won’t. - How unfair it was.
Nana always felt sorry seeing his mother in tears and grew angry with father for that.
During the month long journey to unknown destination, Nana was to learn, conversing with elders and co-travelers, many things about the political turmoil at Madurai that may throw some light on reasons why they had to leave their home and home town in a hurry.
He was going to learn how the Nayakar dynasty, an off shoot of Vijayanagar kingdom had crumbled under the Muslim invasion spreading from north to south and how Madurai came under the rule of Nawab of Karnatic who represented the Nizam of Hydrabad.
He was to also learn how they protected temple properties and deities from the Muslim atrocities from the days of Malikafur till Chanda Saheb and about the help received from Maratha rulers, who for restoring the temple and allow pujas and festivals to revive, appointed as governor of Madurai
(The complete and minute details of Madurai
Allowing Nana to listen to the stories, we will, in the mean time, go to ‘Chinnamanoor’, 80 miles south west of Madurai
It was a small village in the cool and breezy stretch of Kambam valley region.
It was a quiet place where severe summer looked like mild winter.
Surrounded by forested foot hills of ‘Western Ghats’ and hidden behind thick bushes, hedges, fruit yielding trees and flower forests, it was unnoticeable to outsiders.
It had fertile cultivable lands in plenty but very less cultivators whose agricultural activities were confined to meet their own local needs and no more.
They lived a contented life in houses made of mud walls, covered with thatched roofs.
In such a remote place full of illiterate, innocent but cultured villagers, a pleasant surprise awaited them one day, when new comers started arriving in batches to survey the place.
…..To continue….
