Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Even in Gods own country very few would have heard of parappanangadi
, a tiny hamlet tucked away on the malabar coast around 30 km from Kozhikode the capital of the Zamorin king who ruled those parts long back when Vasco Da Gama made his famed landing .
the one platform railway station had always been the centre of activity in this dusty village but returns from Dubai the Eldorado of these lands have transformed them as if by a magic wand
.The hard stones on the railway track was a path which rose up and came down seductively , winding like a long snake lying in slumber , a great spot for interaction and introspection. Elegant nair tharavadus or family homes lined the track on both sides
Chudala paraambu gave the jitters specially when twilight struck for that was where the locals were buried or burnt and had its own myths and mystique sticking to it ,while the stark sunlight made fear melt as lungi clad boys played soccer.
gentle breeze would waft in from the west where the arabian sea crashed on the rockface while fishermen returned after their exertions ,
The Ayappankavu temple would be lighted and shining bright resplendent for the evening deeparadhana and aristocratic ladies in white mundus circumbulate in dignity ,.the huge banyan tree letting peeping stars shine through its foliage with chirping birds giving an encore.,come december and the place would reverbrate with saranam ayappos
Parappanangadi has very litle history to speak of but for its fiery Mopiilla rebellion in 1921 when Gurka soldiers of the British packed hundreds of rioters in railway carriages like sardines and sent them on a one way trip.many of the older
Avukarkutty naha a minister in an earlier cabinet of kerala was one of the rememberd local celebrity who saw to it that many express trains which had earlier winked at the village stopped and paid obsequainse.
It would be a long time before the famous astrologer paniker make parapp famous globally
Thee Anjapurra market which once had only anjupurras or five houses is the happening place of Parappanangadi, the other being the railway station but with Gulf sojourns of the natives changing the face of the village Anjaapura transformed itself beyond recognition .
Hotel Malaya just behind the railway station greeted you as you entered into town stood the ravages of time and served the gourmets and gluttons with no favouritism ,the days when we used to frequent the place for hot biriyani Malappuram istyle and the heady concotion of a red coloured chai with our hard earned cashewnut collected booty is fresh in our memories.
Jayakerala talkies was the excuse for a nightlife in parappanangadi where one could watch Premnazir swinging around trees with scarcely clad damsels or sing moony songs on riverbanks.every ten minutes as the reels were changed catcalls would hit the roof making the sweating projector man do it in a jiffy.
The vayanasala or library was the haunt of youngsters and its shady corners were a good hideway for a game of rummy
Chemmadu a little away enroute to Calicut was the duty free market of the area where foreign goods were available at throwaway prices
Green fields lined by swaying coconut trees and cherooty river winding its way into the distant hills were crossed to reach the famous bhagavathy temple Amanjerikavu where once in a year wooden horses were carried on mens heads beating to the rhythm of drums in a ritual called kuthirakettukali.
Our own family diety Sarikkil Bhagavthy had her quite little temple with huge umbrella like banyan trees giving shade and breeze ,the evening drums drifted in the dusk like a clarion call to the faithful.The temple tank where the clear water invited us for frolicking with abandon was cleaned once in a year by the locals ,it was a great event going well into the night with hot kattankappis( coffee without milk) and steaming kappas( tapioca) fortified the mud covered diggers while cries of joy rose when big braals( fish ) were caught by their fins ,the booty taken promptly to the nearby fields to be barbecued.
On Navaratri nights when the annual festival took place sleepy eyes watched ottanthulal,chakiarkuthu and kathakali perfomances by great artistes from Kalamandalam
The rest of the days Night fell early and people went to bed fast to wake up at dawn and to another day in this quaint little place.
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