Childhood Memories

What Do I Remember from My Childhood

Living in thatched hut. In front of the hut used to a good garden where a lot of corn used to be grown. We used to have a few cows in the beginning. My Grandfather used to have some cows and buffalos. I do not remember how many but some vague recollections of two to three. Specially playing with the calves. Beautiful calves. The day when the cow gave birth used to be a festive day as we used to get a lot of Junnu (thick milk) from the cows. I remember being fond of it and how it used to be distributed. It now looks like small hut but in those days the recollection of having a big house and filled: all amounting to 500 square yards. The house was of thatched hut and my mother used to have small ht by the side of the big hut where my grandfather lived. I also recollect my grandfather touching my feet early morning before I Got up and taking my name and calling “Edukondalawada Venkataramaan Govinda,  Govinda, ... and proceed to his work” perhaps that is why he named me as Venkateswara Rao. He used to take my name in the morning and used to think that he will have a great day. I also remember my grand father carrying me on his shoulders to work. I also remember watching him cut the palm tress and take our honey and bring loads of it home. I also remember how we used to lick the palm leaves for honey once the beehive from the leave was cut.

I remember my grand father feeding me “mungikayalu” from the palm tree. There used to be loads of them in my house and I used to enjoy them.

My first feelings:

We were poor. Our meal used to be rice with butter milk and occasionally a curry. Every day I used to go to the near by Rich farmer’s house and fetch butter milk for us. I do not remember if we used to get it free or my mother paid any money. My recollection was that we used to get it free. May be two letters or so and every day early morning I used to walk a mile and fetch the same. The incident I remember is when I was fetching the buttermilk one day and I was crossing the school play ground between my house and the place where I was to fetch the butter milk. Some on teased me by calling me as son of Krishnayya (his real name was Velagapudi Venkata Krihsna Rao also known Velagapudi Krishna Murthy). I do not know for what reason it angered me. This is because my father was not living with us. My mother was raising me all by her self and I had no father. He deserted my mother and married some one else in the village from his own community. My mother was left to take care of me and her. So this comment of some one pointing out about my father angered me and I hit the pot full of buttermilk to the ground and broke the pot. I remember going home crying and telling my mother some one ahs called me as Krishnayya’s son. That is the truth perhaps I was not prepared to hear. Even today whenever I get angry I tend to hit myself or the objects around me. Perhaps our response patterns are set from our child hood.

My first day in school:

I have very vague recollection of the celebration of sending me to school. They bought me slate and also distributed palaharam in the school. I do not remember much after that but have a vague recollection of one of my classmates in the school Natal Riprap. I do not know how long I went to school and when I was taken out. I do not remember anything of going to a primary school. I remember going for tuitions.

Skipping Primary

I did not go to regular school up to fifth standard. I skipped fifth standard apparently.

In the tuitions I have a clear recollection of another college of mine from a neighboring village. I have vague recollections of nothing getting into his head and the teacher asking me to teach him. That was perhaps third standard or fourth standard equivalent. I remember his not learning whatever I was teaching and I remember giving him a big pinch and he was crying all the way from tuition teachers house to his house more than a mile away. The pinch was so hard he started bleeding slightly (gillatam valana).

I have a reasonably good recollection of my first day in the sixth standard. I along with Sudhakar and Perepi my neighbors went to school. We ate raw mangoes. I was in the school and one of use vomited on the bench. I also remember our hands becoming dirty with ink and other students teasing us. I think Perepi was known for dirtying himself all the time with ink.

Panganamalu:

I then have a good recollection of how people used to call me 111. Every year grandfather used to go to Tirupathi. I used to go and give my hair. The custom in the village was whenever you went to Tiruapti Balaji you go round the village collecting all the offering of other people to Lord Balaji and then offer to him on their behalf. This was called Jogi. I remember accompanying my grandfather for jog one or twice. I also remember walking with him all the way to Balaji. I don’t remember Lords’ darshan but I remember carrying his cheppals and also remember the monkeys taking away some thing I was eating on way from Balaji mandhir in Tirupathi.

Then as I returned I used to have on my face the symbol of Balaji and the other students use to call me No 111. I was the only one in school with big panganamalu. Other students also used to call me Tirupathi. In fact my name was often called as Tirupathi Venkateswara Rao. It is only in latter years it became Talam. Until my 10^th standard or so I was Tirupathi and not as talam.

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As I started writing this I started remembering many things:

I have vague recollections of my mother cleaning Prasad at home. He was small came to our thatched but and did big business. I do not know why he was coming to our house after all that ahs happened to my mother from my biological father. Talam is not my original surname. My mother who belonged to gowda community and my father who belonged to kamma community went away from the village and got married secretly. When I was in her womb my father was forcible brought back to the village and was married to another woman from her community. My father came from a very rich family in the village. Perhaps his was the richest. He had many brothers and in the division every one of them became less rich and all sold their lands and went way to different cities, Vijayawada, Hyderabad, Karnataka etc. latter.

My mother apparently returned with me in her womb and to save the family prestige she was married to her maternal uncle who was much older than her. His sir name was Talam and that is how I got the surname. O it is not from my biological father’s side. My father’s surname was Velagapudi.  MY foster father never lived with my mother as she never allowed him to come near him. I have vague recollections of my going to his village about fifteen miles away from my village Akunuru and playing with neighbors. I have vague recollections of the house another thatched hut with a number of trees etc. The village itself (Gaddipadu) may have had a lot of changes.

My mother stayed on with her Father Rajulapti Pothuraju. His main occupation was to cut palm leaves from the trees. Each farmer in the village had number of farm trees in their farms. They leaves grew every year. They had to b cut every year and given to the farmer. The farmer sold them or used them to repair their huts or houses or used for firewood. Most of the farmers in my village were rich. We did not have any land but ahs a lot of palm trees. My grandfather used to leave every morning by about 4.00 am or 5.00 am to cut the palm leaves. Some times he took me along with him. The reason why I went was either to get honey or to eat palm fruit (munjikayalu). He used to take me when I did not have school.  For doing this work he either got some money or he got a lot of paddy from the farmers at the time of harvest. In harvesting days I still remember accompanying my Grandfather to visit the fields and get from the farmers the paddy due to him. My grand father would collect paddy like that and store it in his own  house (in the ground by “pathara” or on the surface by creating a special storage room made with grass (endu gaddi). Some of it he sold.

 I also remember my grand father getting up every day and touching my feet. He used to take my name and touch my feet by saying “Edukondala wada venkatramana govinda govinda”. He used to say that f he saw my face and went for work he got a lot of luck. He loved me so much that he did not sleep without taking my name. Every festival he celebrated. Knowing fully well that his daughter went way and bought with her back a child who did not belong entirely his community, naming me after Lord Venkateswara and calling me by that name gave his a lot of satisfaction.

I cannot forget how I have not been able to see him during his last days and the kind of end he met. I was going to Indonesia at that time my dates were fixed from XLRI. I went home, he was in sick bed without food and an enough care. My mother was there but was not so kind to him. They never got along well through out their life. May be because she did not follow his instructions or did not fit into his thinking and value system. For her as a woman it was difficult to live and bring me up. He had to be aggressive in life and became popular either as Ayurvedic treatments or as paddy business woman or as muta mastry. My Grand Father did not like it at all. There used to be fights all the time. My mother was given  a separate thatched hut to live by the side of my Grand father’s house. Some times the fights use dot is very violent. My grand father seemed to have hated her with the same intensity as he loved me and from my mother’s side it was reciprocal. My mother’s ambition was to educate me.

Many people in the village apparently told her to go to court and get some property from my father. My mother chose not to do that. Either she loved him so much or that she was too stubborn to do it. She preferred to raise me by working hard than by getting my father’s money.

Apparently my Father was afraid that she will some day co to court to get her share. He sold all his property from the village and went way to other city ( Eluru first, Vijayawada and then to Karnataka I am told) to run some hotel business. When I met him finally s several years latter he was an insurance agent.

My date of Birth and early education:

My official date of birth is 14^th march 1946. This is not correct. But to prove that this is not correct is difficult. In those days most of my classmate’s date of births were wrongly stated. The parents were told to give a higher age as they do not allow us to sit for the exams unless we are of right age. For example unless you are fifteen years of age you are not allowed to sit for the exam of school final 11^th standard. I  was appearing for my school final in 1961 April. In spite of my age being put as one as and half higher than the real date of birth, I had to get a medical certificate stating that I am healthy and fit to sit in the examinations. I was perhaps shorter by a few weeks as per my record. But really when I appeared for the 11^th standard examinations I was 13 years and six months, nearly one and half years shorter than what was needed. My classmate GK PCh Gandhi also had to get a medical certificate as he was under aged. He was put as born in January of 1948 four months after I was born. His mother and my mother were good friends. My father’s house used to be next Gandhi’s house. Whenever I went to Gandhi’s house there used to be some conversation of their neighbors. I had strict t instructions not to go into their (my Father’s compound) as I may be poisoned. I was not to drink anything given to me from there. Of course there was no scope of any one giving anything from there as I did not see any one from there. I have no recollection of seeing my father until I was in the second year of B. Sc. When he got my brother Prasad for an admission into Loyola College. Some one told my father that I am very close to the principal Fr. Gordon. I do not know why he came he came along with my brother to meet me and see if I can put in a word to the priests. Looking back I cannot believe that he came with the same purpose. Is it out of love for me? Not likely. Out o a hope that my brother will get admitted as the Principal was fond of me and they all know my story.

Coming back to my date of birth, the only birth day’s I celebrated were my friend Gandhi birth days. On his birth day I used to go to his house and his mother (Rnganaykamma Garu) gave me luddus and kheer and I used to love them. Gandhi would be dressed well on that day there are poojas etc.

My grandfather used to tell me that I was born in the year we got Independence and one week before dussera day and on a Friday. When I was in the second year of B. Sc. At Loyola college, Vijayawada I told this to my friend Govindu Balaswamy ( he is now a big property dealer in Hyderabad, after he retired from service IDPL at Hyderabad). He went to his village and consulted his village purohits who took out the dates and gave it as 17^th October 1947. This was a Friday. One week before Dussera that year. My mother went to see the last show movie in Vuyyuru Theater. She had to walk back. She left half way through as she was seeing the movie as she had pains. I was born that morning may be around four or 5 am. No one gave me the exact time (tellavrujahmu is all that they could say). Apparently I did not cry when I came to this world. Every one thought that  a dead boy was born until our neighbor old person by name Chenchamma put water on me and I cried loud and they all knew that I am born alive.

So I was born in 1947 a few days after independence. I was born into independent India. I was born when Mahatma Gandhi was alive. Apparently I learnt latter that Mahatma Gandhi came to our village and camped for a night in the village. Of course he went without seeing me or even my friend K P CH Gandhi who was named after him - as we were not born.

Looking back to think I got into 6^th standard when I was eight years old, passed SSLC my thirteenth year and B.Sc in my seventeenth year and B. Ed. In my eighteenth year is some times very strange. I never felt under aged but definitely challenged at every point of time. I was not of course a ranker in studies until I got into B. Ed. Where I began to top in  mot subjects of psychology and education in spite of all my  classmates being at least three to four years elder to me and completed as well as topped M. A. Psychology in my 20^th year of life  sounds strange. I never felt proud of doing so many things at a young age. I could have done a lot more perhaps.

My Pre University onwards was all filled with good memories. May be because I remember most of them.

School Days

I have value recollection of visiting Tirupathi. Also vague recollections of my returning from selling laces made by mother in the neighboring village. Eating in my classmate’s house though I was told not to eat as they are a community living outside the village and are untouchables.  After I returned I have vague recollections of some sick people being treated in my neighbor’s house for illness by some Christian missionaries. Then these people recovering and my mother and a whole team of them inviting the catholic priests to teach them Christianity. I also have vague recollection of mass conversion of a group of them from all caste groups and communities led by my mother and some others to be Roman Catholics, a big celebration.

I also remember being teased by my college friends even after that as no 111 or Panganamalu. My grand father being an ardent Hindu and believer in Hinduism still will take me to Tirupathi as he perhaps never accepted the conversion. He in fact used to say all are gods who eve it is but never gave up his devotion to Lord Venkateswara.

I also remember my playing badminton in the school grounds several days. Trying volley ball but not succeeding as I was perhaps too short for the game. I used to be good in kabadi and kho kho and have some certificates also.

I also remember my not getting an opportunity to play in school grounds and complaining to my mother. A few days latter my mother and grand father got a kabadi court made in front of my house that court lasted fro a long time and many people in the village used to come and play in theta court. Especially my friends. In fact this is perhaps an indication of my achievement motivation or power I do not know. I do not remember any feelings but I do remember the courts and the joy of playing there. Gandhi and I used to of course play badminton in the school court.

The Ugly Days

The Other most significant part that I remember is the series of events that have happened in the tenth standard and school final. This is the Bhanu Akkay affair. Every event that is associated with it is a story to remember as it left many marks in my young mind. It may have also destroyed the life of Bhanu Akkay. It deserves a write up. I will write in details what could happen in a school at young age. 

Places I used to visit:

My grand mother’s place Kondiparru and Pamarru where my other’s younger sister lived.

Festivals:

Festivals was a great time. I still remember how we celebrated all festivals. The master festival was of curse deepavali. Preparations for it used to begin almost a month or more in advance. Our work was to collect male palm tree branches which gave a kind of powder that went to make Poola Pattalu. We dry the powder 9coarse powder made in a special way) and collect cow dung and wet the clothes in the cow dung. After the cloth coated with cow dung is dried it used to be filled with the plan tree powder and then we make it into a cylindrical shape. It is then dried and kept for deepavali. It gave a large member of sparklers in the bight on the day and the days before deepavali. I used to accumulate money for purchasing crackers for deepavali. We (our team  of children used to make nela-tapakayalu. My mother used to be an expert on them. We used to buy sulphur and some thing else and make powder and make the crackers for bursting. I also used to sell seethaphal and accumulate some money for deepavali. I can still recollect the days I used to put up seethaphal in front of my house for sale. We used to have a few seethaphal trees and I used to pluck them and sell for accumulating money for deepavali.

The next festival is Vinayakchavati. We collect pallerukayalu and store them.  We used to put them in front of other’s houses and they are not supposed scold even if they get hurt. The hurt used to be mild and irritating. In the morning of vinayakchavathi I used to go along with other friends to collect the leaves for worshipping Lord Ganeshs. The poem used to go like” neredi, maredi, Chenglva… etc. leaves”. We would collect all the leaves and make a kind of a pandiri for Lord Ganesha’s idol and worship him with a lot of slokas. My classmate Munnangi venkateswara Reddy ( he retired I heard  a High Court Judge in Hyderabad)  from peda vogirala taught me a number of slokas to workshop Ganesha. I learnt from him Shuklambradharam vishnum, shashi varnam chatur bhujam etc… Ekadtanta  na bhakatanam Aneka dantam upasmahe etc. “

My grandmother used to make kheer and we would fist offer the Kheer naivedhyam to the God, close the doors and wait for us to think that God ahs eaten them and blessed them and then each  afterworlds. The pooja, the wait, the eating after that are all great fun. The team going to each other's house to eat laddus. And in the night wait for sounds of the luddus being thrown at each other’s house.

The next one is dussera time when we used to organize ourselves into teams and go round collecting money for celebrating dussera. We become like hanumanji buy bows and arrows and play with bows and arrows. Dussera time is the time for bows and arrows.

Sankranti or Pongal is the time for cock fights. We used to make it a point to go for the nearby tirnala or festival. There used to be regularly santha organized. It is big mela. In which there are cock fights. We used to go and spend the whole day witnessing the cock fights and buying things. The next thing I remember is going to vuyyuru Eeramma tirnala. It also used to be a great event.

The final festival used to be in April may when the Srirama navami comes. That is the day where panakam (sweetened sugar water made from Brown sugar bellam mixed with pepper) used to be served in big posts at several places in the village. All of us would go from place to place drinking this panakam. It was great fun. As I write I ask my self this question, are these traditions still alive? I feel like going back and checking.

Perhaps whatever we have become latter in our adult life we owe a part of it to the culture and opportunities we got in the village to do number of things.

Ugadhi or the new year day is not normally great affair. We used to go out and get vepa chiguru or neem flowers and mango s and our parents used to make a chutney out of them by missing them with bellam (jagri or gud) and chintapandu (tamarind).

In my village there were two temples: Ram and Shiva. The Ramalayam was more popular and sued to serve every day morning palaharm. I remember waiting to go every morning stand along with other children and get palaharm or prasadam. We used to enjoy the same. It used to be given during some months of the year.