The knife grinder's visit

The knife  grinder stood at the gate, checking whether  the dog was secure in its cage.  My maid informed me that all the knives had to be sharpened so please let him come in..so he cycled in. 
He asked for my mother in law and was shocked to hear that she was no more. It has been more than two years since he came this way.
  A morose and quiet man, he asked me how she passed away and he recalled that  she would sit on a chair and ask him about his life and family and offer him food and a cup of tea.


Out came the traditional knives, coconut scrapers and sickles etc.. twenty minutes and a cup of tea he was ready to go. One hundred and twenty rupees, I started to bargain, but  was reminded of Dr Subrahmani Swamy’s post on us frequenting branded stores and paying without a murmur, I held out the one hundred and twenty rupees without a murmur. He wheeled away,  the steely sharpened knives glistened  in the morning sun. Ten yrs from now how many houses will have such knives and sickles?  My generation would have seen  the last of the  maids squatting down and scaling , slicing the fish with the sickle type knife, and washing it in the mud chatty (earthen pot)  with crystallized salt. Then it would wait for the smoothly ground coconut paste ground on the grinding stone. The coconut paste would have to pass the stringent test of the older ladies…then  mixed with the ground chilli paste with home grown turmeric pd, and tamarind paste picked dried and stocked for the entire year,  seasoned with curry leaves with a difference..those were fresh and not sprayed with the deadly endo sulphan.

Organic vegetables cost a fortune now, but back then when my grandmother used to supervise her vegetable garden throbbing with tomatoes, papayas, plantains, green chilies,  spinach, beans, lady fingers and gourds, I had taken it for granted. What about herbs that heal? a herb for every ailment.. Come cashew season, which would find us picking the nuts and savoring the fruit. An old Harijan lady, Kuruvamma , would come to stay with us off and on. She would roast it for us in the fire which would be warming up  for the family’s evening bath. Kuruvammas have become extinct…she was an old dark lady, whom we adored..my brother and I.. she was not supposed to enter the inner recesses,and my grand mother was not too happy that we spend all our free time with her when she is home.  when she is home, we would rush to see what Kuruvamm was upto.. she would be collecting firewood, or sweeping the dried leaves from under the jack fruit trees into a large basket woven with coconut leaves  for lighting  up a crackling fire. it was her job to make these huge baskets , and a full stock of brooms. I can still picture her sitting in our back veranda, amidst a sea of dark green coconut palm leaves. deftly she peels off the green leaves and piles up the tender strands which will be tied up as brooms to be stacked in our attic.Her ruby red lips forever munching tobacco, and a mix securely tied on her waist in her chequered lungi. and she had a knack of spitting quiet far between her two fingers.  a scant memory..she used to sing ballads, in a coarse voice, and we were careful to keep a safe distance so as the red liquid from her mouth, wont be smattered on us..and enacted the stories, to us who will be sitting beside her on small wooden stools, with our dog Harry for company,  all the while the demonic forces ultimately vanquished by the good ones, the sad parts brought tears to her eyes and when she reached the vanquishing part, where good triumphs, her joy knows no bounds. Looking back, I realize, that household expenses would have been so minimal.. how much we spend on buying lanky slim brooms..you need not spend time deciding which brand of tooth paste and eventually end up buying four brands to suit  each one’s choice. 'Umikkari', ( a black coarse powder made from husk,) was used to brush your teeth which  would be stored in Amulspray containers which would be scooped  by all and sundry, onto a piece of paper and with a smattering of salt and pepper to wash it off.  Your finger brush  would  scrub it  squeaky clean..my grand ma says that the advent of tooth brushes are the reason for teeth protruding.. good for dentists though..

Vessels washed with ashes, vegetables from your backyard, coconut oil from the mill made with  home grown coconuts,  milk, ghee, curds, butter from the cows tethered in the sprawling compound, Water from the clear wells, boiled away in large cauldrons, eggs from the hens in the small cages.. no aqua guards, R.O filters, air conditioners,  steam irons  and geysers. The heavy iron box, loaded with red hot embers and secured with a nail, is now only  found in antique shops. The electricity bills would have never given  you a scare..A creaky fan and the gentle breeze which used to blow a little stronger was your only respite.  Water  would  sometimes be drawn  by your loyal maids and poured all over your body for you..olden day showers . Twilights would resound with Ram Nam and prayers chanted in unison and  then yes, bury yourself in your text books ..but with no mother behind you.  Lunch and dinner on the huge tables with colored  benches, with the children of the family haggling and hungry, satiated by rice and curry.  noodles, ice creams and chocolates, where were you? The list is endless.   Home remedies and potions for the ailments which were few and far between, and the family doctor who would come in with his box with essential medicines .Above all maids who loved us, and women folk (aunts, widowed great aunts, and distant cousins who were not so well off),  who toiled from dawn to dusk, selflessly.. eating after the entire menfolk and children had their fill, supervise the washing and cleaning up of the smoky kitchen..no evening outings no movies..begetting a brood of children, who would be brought up in the huge joint family set up,  fighting, sharing,  and caring, bonds fostered deep and strong..Now friends take the place of relatives, as jobs take you far from home..Times have changed and we stroll along, paying out of our skins for breathing space.. in apartments, craving for facilities and facilities,  swimming in a sea  of consumerism..at least I could taste a slice of life untouched by consumerism., but am sure did not value it then. Thank you Knife grinder, shall keep all  these knives for you to sharpen, even if I don't use them.