God's own munnar – another time - another world.

I often dream of that old house and wake up with some feelings of imminent doom, though I am fully aware of that house at present lies submerged under the waterbed of Matupetty dam. It is like diving deep into my subconscious and resurfacing to the harsh reality of hot humid Chennai. Maybe I still crave for the cozy cool womb I loved to be in. Should I see a mind bender, I wonder. After each dream, it is a rebirth; the bilious nausea rising up from the pit of my guts; exactly the same way I felt as a child maneuvering down the treacherous hairpin bends from Matupetty down to the plains. The semicircular canals of my ears did work overtime!

The road I travelled was not even tarred in that pre-independent era of Travancore history. My return journeys in 1940s from Mavelikara to Matupetty involved minimum of one and half days. My older sister and I used to stop overnight at Kottayam, at my maternal grandmother's house. If the journey was in my father's car it was smoother, but usually it would by bus accompanied by my grandmother or some family friend. The buses to Munnar had special drivers and special rules. Smoking was allowed in those buses. During these bus rides, the travellers fell into strange close camaraderie which is very rare in the plains. Maybe the uncertainty of reaching one's destination safe weighed on one's mind. Many passengers would come up with their encounters with wild animals on their previous trips. Herds of wild elephants crossing our path was a common sight and the vehicles would stop for them as it was their territory and we were the encroachers.

For me, going uphill to Matupetty was "expectation" and coming downhill to Mavelikara was "trepidation". Even now I cannot explain why.

The Doctor's house at Matupetty stood on top of a small hillock. Its roof was of corrugated iron sheets painted a dull red and the outside walls embedded with pea-sized pebbles. I loved to run my fingers along the walls. The garden path in front of the house too was strewn with pebbles. They are part of my earliest memories too. My parents and I had just returned from Mavelikara, leaving my older sister with grandma; she was in primary school and I may have been 3 or 4 years old. Mother was busy unpacking and father parking the car. I was lonely and wandered around the flower beds, picked up a pebble and put it into my nostril; it got stuck and I panicked as it refused to come out. I ran to my mom crying and told her what happened. She pinched me and my howling became louder and louder. That brought my father to the scene. He carried me down the steps to the hospital and started sterilizing some instruments. I got real scared and cried more and out came lots of snot and with it the pebble.

The hospital was at a lower level from the house on the same hill. The old gardener with his toothless grin was tending the flowerbeds. He tended our kitchen garden also. We had plenty of beans, green peas, tomatoes, cabbage, cauliflower and plantains. The architecture of all KDHP buildings was typically British with large glass paned windows, wooden paneled floors and red roofs.

Leading down from the house to the hospital were broad cemented steps with well maintained sloping lawn on either side. In the evenings those steps was a social meeting place for the hospital staff and their children. Chachiamma, the nurse had two boys, Sonno, around my age, and Aniyan, an infant. Sunno and I used compete sliding down the slope and in no time our underpants got dirty, if not, worn out. I got pinched by my mom and Sonno got whacked by his dad, Jacob, later at night when he got back from work. He was supervisor at the Matupetty dam construction site.

In those days, Sonno was an uncommon name for a Syrian Christian boy, but there was an older Sonno in Matupetty. He was the young strapping young son of Mr. Lewis (Lewis saab, for the kids), the Anglo-Indian construction contractor from Kochi. Lewis family was large, brood of girls, Marjorie, Betty, Jennie and so on, most of them spinsters and the older son Charlie. Charlie's wife Estelle did not speak understand Malayalam and her mother-in-law did not speak or understand English. Whenever we visited them, the old lady will pour out all her woes in her sing-song Kochi accent to my mom. Estelle will be sitting there with a blank face till the old lady goes in to get the tea and snacks for us.
Estelle will ask my mom. "Mrs. Samuel, please tell me the meaning of "Cherai pambu and Keeri pambu" my mother-in-law often calls me that". The literal meaning being rattle snake and mangoose snake; but my mom would come up with something innocuous meaning.
Otherwise, there would be storm in the house.

In early 1940s, there was no dam or the expanse of water in Matupetty. On the left of our house lay a precipice going down to the very bottom of the hill to the valley where a narrow stream could be seen in summer. During the monsoon it will swell into a wider and deeper gurgling river. It was that spot the PWD department built the hydroelectric project dam. As far I can remember, the Kundala dam was already built and Gkochayan's father George Oommen was the Chief Engineer who was in charge there. He shifted his base to Matupetty and supervised the construction of the first concrete dam of Kerala. Mullaperiyar dam had a different technology, it is a brick dam. Those were the days when India started building big dams for various purposes.

Leading down from the house to the hospital were broad cemented steps with well maintained sloping lawn on either side. In the evenings those steps was a social meeting place for the hospital staff and their children. Chachiamma, the nurse had two boys, Sonno, around my age, and Aniyan, an infant. Sunno and I used compete sliding down the slope and in no time our underpants got dirty, if not, worn out. I got pinched by my mom and Sonno got whacked by his dad, Jacob, later at night when he got back from work. He was supervisor at the Matupetty dam construction site.

In those days, Sonno was an uncommon name for a Syrian Christian boy, but there was an older Sonno in Matupetty. He was the young strapping young son of Mr. Lewis (Lewis saab, for the kids), the Anglo-Indian construction contractor from Kochi. Lewis family was large, brood of girls, Marjorie, Betty, Jennie and so on, most of them spinsters and the older son Charlie. Charlie's wife Estelle did not speak understand Malayalam and her mother-in-law did not speak or understand English. Whenever we visited them, the old lady will pour out all her woes in her sing-song Kochi accent to my mom. Estelle will be sitting there with a blank face till the old lady goes in to get the tea and snacks for us.

Estelle will ask my mom. "Mrs. Samuel, please tell me the meaning of "Cherai pambu and Keeri pambu" my mother-in-law often calls me that". The literal meaning being rattle snake and mangoose snake; but my mom would come up with something innocuous meaning. Otherwise, there would be storm in the house.

In early 1940s, there was no dam or the expanse of water in Madupatty. On the left of our house lay a precipice going down to the very bottom of the hill to the valley where a narrow stream could be seen in summer. During the monsoon it will swell into a wider and deeper gurgling river. It was that spot the PWD department built the hydroelectric project dam. As far I can remember, the Kundala dam was already built and Gkochayan's father George Oommen was the Chief Engineer who was in charge there. He shifted his base to Matupetty and supervised the construction of the first concrete dam of Kerala. Mullaperiyar dam had a different technology, it is a brick dam. Those were the days when India started building big dams for various purposes.

After Kerala has become one of the 50 top tourist destinations of the planet, Munnar has become more important as a foreign exchange earner. No worker-oriented industries thrive in Kerala due to the leftist "inquilab-zindabad" policy. According to travel brochures, "The place Matupetty is also famous for the highly specialized dairy farm here, better known as the Indo-Swiss Livestock Project. Hundred varieties of high-yielding cattle are reared here. Visitors are allowed in three of the eleven cattle sheds here".

Only the old timers know what existed on that location before modernization. I was called the "Swayne's Bungalow". Mr. Swayne was a Britisher who died in late 1930's; he was the manager of the Munnar Supply Association (which exists even today in Munnar town), the outlet for imported goods for KDHP staff. His death was sudden and it was almost impossible to ship his body to England for burial as it would take months for the ship to reach the destination. He was buried in Matupetty and Mrs. Swayne refused to go back to England and KDHP provided the bungalow for her till she died in early 1940s. The Swaynes had no children. The salacious beautiful bungalow had an equally beautiful garden. When Mrs. Swayne became an invalid, my father used to attend to her every week or at any time she called. Some days he would take me also along on his Royal Enfield bike, seated on its petrol tank. The old lady was a very frail-looking sweet soul with an enchanting smile. I think she loved kids and that is the reason my father bothered to take me there. She would ask her butler, "Bring some of those candies for the little one". Those were orange or lemon colored boiled sweets shaped like pea-pods.

Subsequent to her death, all her belongings were sold off by KDHP. My father bought among other things, a bookshelf with all the books on it; Agatha Christie gems, Forsyth saga by John Galsworthy. These were the seeds of my love for good literature for me and my sister.

The first Matupetty house had a spacious sitting room where my father's recliner made of wood and cane was kept in a corner. It had foldable legrests. A capacious upholstered chair also was there with smaller single chairs with it with cushions with embroidered covers on them. A table covered with a table cloth was in the center. The most important part of the room was the chimney which will come alive by evening on cold days. A few low stools were kept around it.

There were two bedrooms; the masterbedroom had two beds a chest of drawers which is a proud possession of brother in his Kakkanad villa. The top most is a twin drawer while lowere three are large single. The second bedroom was ours and grandmother's, with two beds and a chair, if memory is correct. The dining area was small adjacent to the kitchen where firewood jhoolas were alive. The house boy/girl slept there.

That brings to memorable characters of Ummatty chettan and my first adventure. Ummatty chettan was our cook when I was a baby. He was from Mavelikara; (Lalammachy was the provider of household helpers for my mother and later for me too). As a child, I was enamoured with his left shoulder which had a hemi tennis ball-sized fleshy smooth growth. One day mid morning when my mother and granny were busy with their sewing and knitting, I decided to go out to school. Grand ma had made me a small cloth bag and I have heard the grownups discussing school with children carrying books in a bag. I gathered some medical literature from the table and with them in my bag set out down the broad steps, to the hospital and walked on the road where my father used go by bike. No one noticed me, the gardener was not in the flowerbeds, and he must have gone for his tea. Ummattichettan was busy cooking in the kitchen.

After a while my mother and grandma realized that I was missing and looked all around the house, went to the backyard, kitchen garden and the enclosure with one hole (for Suku), no Remani anywhere. Ummatti chettan came to the front of the house and looked down the road and spotted something small moving. He came running almost a furlong before he could grab me. I was kicking thrashing the poor guy.and I wanted to go to school. After Ummatty chettan left for Mavelikara, it was the turn of Mary, the black beauty. She too was from Mavelikara.

Salubrious climate of Munnar brought many guests to our house. My earliest memory is of my maternal grandmother making baby clothes with cute embroidery on them. She had just retired from her long career of primary school teaching in various CSI (in those days, Church Missionary Society – CMS) educational institutions. Grandfather also was in the same profession, but he passed away in his early 30's. They had only 2 daughters, my mother being the younger and the other whom we called Lalammachy (Thankamma Mathew, Pallathu, Mavelikara.) She did not have children and took over her sister's children as soon as we turn 5 for entry into AOMM Primary School at Mavelikara. She and her husband, Dr. Mathew who was Lalappachan to us bordered on spoiling my siblings and me. Dr. Mathew was a medical officer in the Travancore government service. He had been transferred through the length and breadth of the whole terrain. When I was sent to Mavelikara, he was in charge of the Leprosy Center at Nooranad, which is only 10 or 15 miles from his home. That is another chapter of my childhood.

Coming back to Matupetty guests, my aunt, Lalammachy abhorred cold climate and her visits were rare. Lalappachan was too busy and he too had visited once or twice. More visitors were from Kozhencherry. A. Oommen (Inspector uncle) was a frequent visitor. Another uncle was grandfather's sister's son (Puthenkavu) Avarachen Achayan who was in the department excise who came on official trips and stayed with us for 2 or 3 days. The most looked forward to visits were mother's cousin Kunju achayan (Kodimatha, Kottayam). He was in the film distribution business and came to Shanmugam Theater in Munnar and eventually we got to see some Tamil movie there. Remember seeing "Shankuntalai" with M.S. Subhalakshmi in the main role, another one with M.R. Radha as hero and the comedians N.S. Krishnan and T.R. Madhuram in it. In early 1950s we had seen "Parasakthi" Sivaji Ganesan's first film. Malayalam movies were just coming into existence that time.

Cousin Dr. Easo John when he was a student at MCC visited Matupetty. He would go for early morning jogs even in those days. He used to do headstand also which my sister and I were so amazed to watch through the keyhole. I was 4 years old and he took me along for a walk in the evening and on the way I insisted on going into the nurse's house and demanded some snacks which embarrassed as well amused him.Mathaichayan (I.E. Mathew) and family came and stayed for a week. Later on Kunjumol spent one whole in Matupetty with my parents.

In August 1948, Kunju (Easo Samuel was born in that house. Ayroor Chinnamma kochamma was there with Kunjumon (Easo John, Kochi); also my maternal grandmother.
My sister and visited Matupetty only during summer holidays.

Matupetty Dam swallowed in the whole of the old Matupetty town including the hospital and staff cottages which were at a higher level. The old town was in the low valley between the hospital and the dam site. Swayne's Bungalow was at much higher level in the opposite direction towards Gundumalai and Kundalai and they were spared. In anticipation, KDHP planned and built a new factory and hospital on two adjacent hillocks at Kuttiyar. This location is on the way towards Munnar from the dam's dry sluice side. This is the house I visited recently. We moved into that house in 1949. My father's input in building the hospital and quarters were considerable. By that time Dr. Finlayson had retired and gone back to England. Dr. Thariyan Varghese (from Tiruvalla) who retired from Cochin State medical service had become the new CMO at KDHP. His son George Varghese later became one of the estate managers.

Each estate of KDHP was headed by a Manager; under him will be assistant manager. The management has two branches, executive (administration) and technical (factory). Head Writer (head clerk) rules the former and Tea Maker rules the latter. Head writer has to oversee the writers (clerks), drivers, finance, salary etc. Tea Maker is responsible for production starting from picking of the tea leaves to shipping of the chests. Under him come Kankanis, and Leaves Pickers. This was the practice then; now with the new technology there must be digital advances. Also the recent political and trade union formations have changed the scene quite remarkably. The manual workers given rooms to live, which were known as "lines", the rooms were in a linear formation with piped water. The writers and above had better cottages. It was the doctor's duty to see to the hygiene of the lines, especially when contagious diseases were reported. Malaria and pneumonia were the common enemies in my father's times. At present, the hospital walls are filled with information about HIV prevention and treatment brochures. The manual workers of KDHP were 99.5% Tamilians and the supervisors mostly Malayalis.

Thus to shift the whole factory and hospital and attached staff to the new location must have been a gigantic task in 1949. The construction of the dam brought more Malayalis to Matupetty as it was undertaken by the Travancore Government PWD department. All the engineers, supervisors and workers from the Kerala plains. George Oommen, Gkochayan's father was the Chief Engineer; R.P. Nair, O.J. Cheriyan, Vaidhyanatha Ayer, Bhaskaran Nair were the other engineers. While the CE, Cheriyan Sir and my father were more interested in football, R.P. Sir was keen on dramatics and cultural. Vaithy Swami's wife is the renowned carnatic music singer Annapurna. One thing all were interested in was bridge and other card games. I learned to play the game 28 at age 4 from R.P. Sir and he also taught me to count. Naturally, when children come to the hill for summer holidays, there will be joined hikes to the Kurissu Mala) Cruz Hill. Gkochayan, his brothers Achootty and Reghu, Cheriyan Sir's Babu and Rohini Leela kochama and yours truly were the boisterous ones. Reghu is one year younger to me and all the others older. Raghu and I were not allowed to sit at the open space in George Oommen's Theeppetty car (Matchbox car); we were kept in the driver's cabin. Apart from us there will be cousins visiting in all houses. Those were memorable years.

When Bava was born in September 1950, Leela kochamma and Thanku (Bhopal) were in Matupetty for Onam holidays. They were studying at Tiruvalla Nicholson boarding school. My maternal grandmother and Veettil ammachy (Police uncle's mother) too were for mother and child care.

The new hospital was better equipped and the house was more spacious. The house had a very large sitting room facing the factory/dam side; two spacious bedrooms, a library room which could accommodate guests, spacious kitchen with firewood-fed oven and almost 24-hour hot water. Apart from the one-hole cubicle one level down, the master bedroom had a proper Indian-style closet. (I am not sure if Europeans closets were available for even Europeans! --Suku please note). In this house the chimney was in the master bedroom. It also had a garage for our car. You can see it in the photo on the right side, all dilapidated and falling apart at present. My father bought his cars from the estate managers going for furlough (long leave) when they will sell their old belongings and come back with latest models. His first was an Austin with a removable canvas top, then a Ford 10 and a Morris 10 while at Matupetty. Cars were a passion for him and he kept them immaculate condition.

There was a large kitchen garden on the slope behind the garage which gave us plenty of fresh vegetables. Apart from a coop full of chickens, my mother also kept a huge shed with 20 cows in them. The cowherd (Mattukkaran) will come and lead them to the fertile hills for grazing and bring them back by evening. No need to buy fodder. It was a house of plenty with butter, milk chocolates, cakes, cookies, chicken and mutton. Mutton will be brought once a week from the estate slaughter house. One pound of garden-fresh premium tea per month was free from the estate. That is what Suku alluded as the oblong package, I presume. My father supplied tea and mother, vegetables for all relatives at Kozhencherry and Mavelikara, I think. I remember him sending parcels to Rosamma kochamma in Khurai. She was his favorite niece, "Kochu"

The car was used for dad's official visits to other estates as well as our family outings on weekends to Munnar; either on Saturday or Sunday morning for church service cum shopping expedition with a long list of items to be bought from Munnar Supply Association and Munnar town. The drive took about 45 minutes in those days. The usual landmarks were three estate bungalows on the way. Bungalow #3 was said to be haunted with many unexplained deaths occurring inside at nighttime. Malayattur Ramakrishnan the famous Malayalam/English novelist's one short story was based on this. His conclusion was deaths were the result of carbon monoxide poisoning because of faulty heating chimneys. Another landmark was Travancore Royal family's summer palace in Chenduvarai Estate. The interior was beautifully furnished and in its place I saw a big Catholic school. In between it was used by Jesuit priests. The tin-sheet covered movie theater also was in Munnar. Other special trips were for my dad's football and billiards matches. As he grew older he shifted to tennis.

The Munnar Marthoma church was built and consecrated in late 1940s on the Munnar-Matupetty road, now it has a spacious Retreat Center attached to it. Before that we used to attend Tamil service at a small church in Matupetty and if some Malayali achans land up we had Malayalam service.

From his medical school days in Tanjavur, dad has cultivated a liking for classical Carnatic music and listening to radio was a ritual for him early in the morning and at night. The radio was of the size of a large microwave and going behind and peeping inside to see the brightly burning valves was a favorite pastime of mine, as a kid. The baritone voice of Melville D'Mello and the mannish sounding Roshini Menon were the news readers of the day. The great MS, D.K. Pattambal, Madurai Mani Iyer and Chembai were all familiar names for the family.

In or around 1953, my father was transferred to Chittuvarai Estate, near the famed Top Station, beyond Kundala the far end of KDHP; near the Tamilnadu-Kerala border.

After my parents passed away, my brother handed over some small items from Kozhencherry to me. Among them was set of cutlery of butter knives marked "Stainless Steel Sheffield England PAT PENDING" which originally belonged to the Swaynes of Matupetty; I keep them as priced possession.

Matupetty is to me what Grantchester was to Rupert Brooke:

"Oh, is the water sweet and cool,
Gentle and brown, above the pool?
And laughs the immortal river still
Under the mill, under the mill?
Say, is there Beauty yet to find?
And Certainty? and Quiet kind?
Deep meadows yet, for to forget
The lies, and truths, and pain? . . . oh! Yet
Stands the Church clock at ten to three?
And is there honey still for tea?"