Back in my ancestral home,I was curious to find out the origin of hissing sound ....Will it be a hooded Cobra or a mere Rat snake after its prey.....
This place was known for the snakes.The Kuryala (a small place to comemmorate the long line of ancestors who were cremated) along with idols of Yogeeswar and Snake gods ,had snakes hanging on its Jasmine creeps on the giant Koovalam which stood in its center, witnessing all the bereavements and poojas . Granny has even picked and thrown away few from the bronze vessels ,kept outside to get dried up ,thinking them as long plantain peels.Some were visitors to our home also, making their way in through the hanging radio anteenas which every household had in early 80's and cables later, and one even got glued to the tapes which fixed them to the wall and it brought in few of our neighbours in late hour of the day ,which my otherwise bravo mum has called in panic .Few others were been at the mercy of the men at home for having trespassed at restricted areas of home. There was a place quite near the car-shed ,marked and walled by my dad in person, kept to be saved from the wrath of snakes, for he had been a victim of their vengeance couple of times.I really loved this place and spent most of the time there enjoying the scent of Jasmine, the music of small birds on the Kilimaram ,the juicy mangoes that every rush of wind brought down from the tall tree in the summer and the Henna plants that my cousins used to colour the hands and nails during their weddings and auspicious events.
The sound led me from outdoors to the portico and inside the room.This time a familiar aroma led me to the origin of the sound .Glad that I diidnt carry the stick lest in case of an attack could be of use to defend myself. Inside the room were the little ones playing with the new deodrant my cousin has brought from Dubai.The dreamer in me was disappointed ....
This place was known for the snakes.The Kuryala (a small place to comemmorate the long line of ancestors who were cremated) along with idols of Yogeeswar and Snake gods ,had snakes hanging on its Jasmine creeps on the giant Koovalam which stood in its center, witnessing all the bereavements and poojas . Granny has even picked and thrown away few from the bronze vessels ,kept outside to get dried up ,thinking them as long plantain peels.Some were visitors to our home also, making their way in through the hanging radio anteenas which every household had in early 80's and cables later, and one even got glued to the tapes which fixed them to the wall and it brought in few of our neighbours in late hour of the day ,which my otherwise bravo mum has called in panic .Few others were been at the mercy of the men at home for having trespassed at restricted areas of home. There was a place quite near the car-shed ,marked and walled by my dad in person, kept to be saved from the wrath of snakes, for he had been a victim of their vengeance couple of times.I really loved this place and spent most of the time there enjoying the scent of Jasmine, the music of small birds on the Kilimaram ,the juicy mangoes that every rush of wind brought down from the tall tree in the summer and the Henna plants that my cousins used to colour the hands and nails during their weddings and auspicious events.
The sound led me from outdoors to the portico and inside the room.This time a familiar aroma led me to the origin of the sound .Glad that I diidnt carry the stick lest in case of an attack could be of use to defend myself. Inside the room were the little ones playing with the new deodrant my cousin has brought from Dubai.The dreamer in me was disappointed ....
