Simple and Complex – Episode 4 Palakkad’s Simplicity: Small Things, Quiet Lives

 

Simple and Complex – Episode 4

Palakkad’s Simplicity: Small Things, Quiet Lives

This time, I was travelling to Palakkad to attend the wedding of Haridas’s daughter. Haridas had worked with me at Kerala House in Delhi. I had booked a room at Hotel Nalanda Inn.

The bus I boarded passed Nalanda and stopped a little further ahead. I assumed there might be some traffic-related reason for the delay. When I looked out, I saw the conductor get down and walk towards a public water tap to collect water.

I slowly got down from the bus, walked back and reached the hotel. There were two hotels on opposite sides of the road—Nalanda Inn and Nalanda Rich. My room was in Nalanda Rich. After checking in, I had lunch at the hotel restaurant and rested for a while.

By around four in the afternoon, I went out for a walk.

Palakkad Fort came into view. I had visited the fort several times before. Adjacent to it is Vadika Garden, for which I bought a ticket for ₹25. It is a pleasant place to spend some time, especially with children. I walked around the garden for a while and then came out.

It was around 4:45 p.m. The fort closes at 5:30. I spent some time around its surroundings and continued walking. On the right, I saw the martyrs’ memorial and the park opposite the fort.

It was the second half of December, and people were busy with Christmas and New Year shopping. Since I had nothing particular to buy, my only intention was to wander around and observe the town.

There was a road leading towards Thrissur and another towards Olavakkode and Kozhikode. I took the Kozhikode road and eventually reached the town bus stand. After making enquiries, I learned that I could take a Cherpulassery bus from the municipal bus stand and get down at Peringode, where the wedding was to be held.

I decided to take that route the next morning.

The Chirava

The walk also reminded me of a call I had received the previous day from my friend Hari in Madurai. He had asked me to see whether I could buy a chirava—a handy traditional device used for grinding coconut on a flat surface.

During our recent North-East India trip, our host in Guwahati was also a Hari. It was at his house that my friend Hari had seen this device. He was fascinated by it and had been looking for one ever since.

The new version of the chirava is manufactured in Coimbatore. Hari had therefore asked me to look for one in Coimbatore.

I thought it might actually be easier to find one in Kerala than in Coimbatore. Coconut is an essential ingredient in Kerala cooking, and such devices are therefore more likely to be sold here. The manufacturers in Coimbatore, I have noticed, are remarkably inventive. Give them an idea, and they will often create a device to suit it. That is how this new form of chirava seems to have evolved.

My guess proved correct.

I saw a chirava displayed in front of a shop and bought two—one painted green and another in plain steel. Back at the hotel, I sent a photograph to Hari.

His response was immediate: he did not want the painted one!

So I agreed to give him the steel one.

That night, Hari got down at Palakkad Town Railway Station while travelling towards Olavakkode. He had also come to attend the wedding. He came straight to the hotel. We had dinner together and then, after collecting the steel chirava, he went to the accommodation arranged for him near Olavakkode Railway Station.

A Quiet Morning

The next morning, I took an auto to the municipal bus stand and boarded a bus to Cherpulassery. Hari joined me from Olavakkode station.

We reached the wedding venue quite early. We had idlis from a small tea shop nearby. The shop was run by a couple.

What fascinated us was the rhythm of their work.

They prepared and served poori, idli, dosa and chapati with remarkable precision and without the slightest appearance of hurry. Everything seemed to happen naturally, one after another.

When I complimented them on their work, the shop owner explained that their regular employee had not turned up that day. Yet they had simply carried on with their business without informing customers about the shortage or allowing it to disturb their work.

There was something deeply reassuring about that attitude.

The Wedding Venue

From there, we walked to the Cloud Five Convention Centre. Women were busy cleaning and preparing the premises.

Some of Haridas’s relatives had already arrived. We noticed a temple nearby, slightly away from the main road, and decided to visit it.

It was the Saariri Durga Temple. There was a priest and two women there. It was a quiet temple, with only a few people attending the daily puja.

I did not enter because, according to the local custom, I would have had to remove my shirt. Hari went inside and offered a puja.

When we returned, we met the manager of the wedding hall. He told us that he was responsible for the centre around the clock.

The convention centre is owned by three people whose main business is tyre trading. The centre itself has ample parking, a large hall that can accommodate around 2,000 people, a good stage and a spacious dining hall. There is also accommodation behind the main building.

Sreedevan, who had worked with us at Kerala House in Delhi, and his wife Subha were staying there. Sivadasan and his wife had arrived from Pathanamthitta. They had left at around 2 a.m. by car and reached Palakkad.

As we exchanged news and stories, Haridas and Chandrika arrived.

Friends from Thiruvananthapuram and elsewhere also joined us. Gopan, Shaji, Anila, Krishnachandran, Surendran, Ramakrishnan, Raji, Sarasamma, Rajani, Govindaraj, A.R. Raju, Dayakumar, Sreejith, Mohanan, Shailesh and many others came.

The gathering itself became a celebration.

There was affection, old friendship, laughter and countless memories being shared. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to meet one another again.

Meanwhile, the wedding ceremonies began with the reception of the groom and the wedding rituals.

The arrangements were impressive. A large stage had been prepared, and photographers had been provided with facilities to take good photographs from below.

But there was one amusing contradiction.

The majority of the guests could hardly see the wedding itself!

Relatives and photographers had formed a virtual human wall around the couple.

The feast was perhaps not quite as elaborate as those traditionally served in South Kerala, but the women who prepared it had done an excellent job. The food was simple, tasty and well prepared.

Five Cloud and the Women Behind It

What interested me most, however, was something beyond the wedding itself.

Five Cloud is not merely a convention centre. It is also an initiative that provides women in the area with opportunities to earn a livelihood.

The ventures may be small, but their significance is not.

Such small enterprises can create employment, generate income and strengthen the local economy—particularly by bringing more women into economic activity.

That, perhaps, is another form of simplicity that we often overlook.

A small tea shop run by a couple.
A woman earning through a small enterprise.
A conductor stopping to collect drinking water from a public tap.
Friends travelling long distances simply to attend a wedding.
An old-fashioned chirava bringing two friends together.

None of these things appears extraordinary.

Yet, when we pause and look closely, they tell us something important about life.

Perhaps simplicity is not the absence of complexity.

It is the ability to live with what is necessary, do what has to be done, and find happiness in ordinary things.

That was what Palakkad seemed to tell me this time.