Sultan And My Grandpa

As I was surfing through the pages of the day’s edition of newspapers, more than the news items, it was those king style posters of Salman Khan, in his ‘Sultan’ image-baring his six pack abs, dressed in a simple loin cloth, displayed on the front pages, which caught my attention. I am sure there would have been scores of female fans, swooning over his brawny image, but I was a little embarrassed, since It reminded me about my childhood days where, I have silently witnessed my grandpa, traversing the entire house in his loincloth.

A second look at the towering image of ‘Sultan’, my mind raced back to the old days where the entire house resembled a noisy wrestling ring, members indulging in frequent fights including pins and locks, and my grandpa the mighty ’ Sultan’ pinching in to do his bit. So let’s take a peep in to this cranky wrestling ground and take a close look at the funny behaviour of its inmates.

My house had no welcome thorans to greet the visitors, but long ‘clothes line’ tied both inside and outside the house, decorated with an array of langots dancing merrily in the gentle breeze, which sure surprised the visitors to our house, but with a pinch of embarrassment. While moving inside the house, we had to to make a tight rope walk, and moving between the freshly washed langots, involved some exquisite balancing skills.

One day, when I found my noisy house exceptionally quiet - except for the twittering of the birds, it slowly dawned upon me that being a Saturday it was a holiday for me, my mum and my brother and the normal chores accompanying our schedule was absent.

But then in my state of slumber I saw my my grandpa striding impatiently between the drawing room and the front yard. He was getting ready with an array of bottles, of different hues and sizes, containing Aromatic oils on a platter, with a watchful eye on the gate. The cause of his restlessness hit me with a bang - UHhh ! a Saturday was an oil bath day! My grandpa scrupulously followed the adage “Sani neeradu” (If it is Saturday one must have an oil bath). So he was just waiting for our domestic help Palayam to help him get on with the ritualistic bath.

This Palayam was a middle aged buxom lady but what I feared most, was her devilish looks. Young as I was, her pan stained teeth, her unkempt hair hardly seen a comb even in better times, her crumpled saree and an eerie smile - every thing about her put me off from her. But being a humble person with a heart of gold she always hugged me tightly and kissed me whenever she came for work. I always tried to wriggle out of her clutch wiping off my cheeks with my palms. But many times being in a state of sleep, it was hard to escape her friendly smooch.

But this Palayam had a loyal admirer in my grandpa not for her looks but for the power she yielded through her hands! yes she was an excellent masseur and the blissful massage was all that my grand pa was craving for. Like a cabaret dancer he would remove his dhoti, banian and stand with a loin cloth , getting ready for the massage. Palayam with her usual chit chat followed the instructions of my grandpa , the oils to be used first and then last. Some of them exclusive for the use of his head while others meant for the body. With my grandpa lying down in a prone position she liberally applied the different oils, many of them emitting strong odour and started massaging.

With Palyam’s work over she drifted to other house hold chores. But then my grandpa not satisfied with all the massage would call me to stand upon his back and and amble slowly. Those days disrespect to elders was not heard of and any command had to be obeyed immediately. So crinkling my eyes with sleep I had to stand on his back which would be quite slippery due to the oils. Many times it was like a Zulu dance with slow steps and pounds which was quite a task with my unfinished sleep. For proper balancing I clutched dear walls for support and pressed his back. slowly. Another ten minutes, he left me to carry on my work, while getting ready fro his bath.

Meanwhile a huge cauldron of hot water using fire wood was readied for his bath. The intervening time was used in oiling his cycle which he meticulously carried out followed by a clean wipe of the cycle with a soft cloth. The cycle looked new and glistening in the shimmering morning rays.

After finishing his bath, with the help of my grandma, he wore a spotless white starched Veshti and kaddhar shirt and sported an angavasthriam, along with a splash of sacred ash on his fore head. Thus the Saturday ritual was complete.

When I was young I took things sportingly, bonded as I was with him with all the love and affection . But when I grew up, I as a young lady, resented his ambling in loin cloth inside the house. Many times there were wordy duels causing resentment and anger between us. But marriage brought relief to all my ordeals and I eagerly awaited the day I could fly away from my cocooned nest.

With my marriage over I happily stepped in to my mother in laws place -literally teeming with people. My husband being the youngest of a dozen I was happily enjoying all the attention I got from his family members.

After a few days I remembered when I woke up that it was a Saturday. Sighing with a welcome relief of having got away from my usual grandpa’s oil ritual I started to the bathroom to brush my teeth. A few steps ahead, I literally froze on my foot steps-with a stunning scenario that unfurled before me. There my Mom-in-law was standing holding a huge cup of oil in her hand . Standing in front of her were all my brother-in-laws - clad in loin cloth!!!

 

Dear oja,
How much ever I wish, there is nothing to beat your scholarly writings. I am very much privileged to be among people in IL who have an excellent rapport between themselves and also indulge in quality writing. I just recollect some of my old memories and post them here. Nothing much to boast about my creativity or intelligence.
In the long walks of our life, some faces and names like Palayam, Muniyamma, Saraswathi - the names of our servant maids who worked for decades with us, is etched in my memory. Paltry amounts of money was paid as salary, but the emotional bond they had with us- one we cannot find anywhere in the present times. Thank you for the remarkable appreciation coming from you and also one for nominating my thread.

Regards,
Agatha83