In my place, Kerala, one could see remnants of forests left behind .These small chunks of forests, characterized by tall growing trees, wild climbers and thorny shrubs are called Sarppakaavu, or Sacred groves of the snakes or nagas.
These intriguing groves of the nagas, had such a great hold on me that during my childhood days I used to roam around the groves in the vain hope of getting a glimpse of the Gods who dwelled there enjoying all the attention and respect. My ancestors were very keen to do the rituals associated with the nagas, as they firmly believed the naga's wrath could bring destruction to the lineage. The Sarappam paattu (songs praising the nagas) for all its simplicity was something that I loved to listen. How can somebody sing for other peoples wellness and prosperity ? If the song bring fortunes, then why did those seemingly poor people sing for us? Why they did not seek for themselves?
That place was my usual hang out and I enjoyed the cool aroma of the wild flowers wafting, as the western wind rambled in through the holy groves. She murmured to the the trees and they swayed allowing the ripe mangoes and berries to come down. The small pond, somewhat close to the grove was another spot where I frequented very often. The swampy odor that wafts across the pond, and the songs and calls of the birds and crickets made that part lively and energetic bouncing with life. Fishes swam , and the water snakes and the tortoises popped out their little head above the water, while the frogs croaked . The bounty of nature was endless. Varieties of herbs ,like kaayooni, thazhuthaama , panikkoorrka, dashpushpangal, chembakam, chembu, muringa, and Coconuts, jackfruit, pineapple, guava, mango, anjili fruit, tamarind, small berries, wild berries, (kottanga, thodalikka, odunka, kudam puli chaambanga) and what not. But we termed something other than bounty as 'Rich, 'developed' and sophisticated'. In a way I will say these words had raped us, and took the authenticity and purity , sucking our spirit and leaving us ghost like.
Then the time came, when the childhood naiveness and innocence began to look for logic and reason. The rationale scientific thinking, took the dreams away. The nagas became a symbol of some barbarian concepts to ward off the unpredictable misfortunes from the nature’s part . All of a sudden, all the rituals seemed to be hollow and barren.
To pace up with the future expenses, as a foreseeing my grand pa decided to go for the Rubber crops. That calls for a clearance of the “unwanted” trees and shrubs. The nagas, should be shifted to some other place, so that the trees and shrubs can be cut. The rituals for the parting ceremony of the nagas were conducted where in the nagas were symbolically sent to a temple that is wholly dedicated to them. The belief is that only after they leave their current home the trees can be cut bushes, and shrubs cleared.. The ends not the mean should be counted. I could hear the creak of falling trees. And the cry for life of the birds that nested in those trees, while I sat in my study room preparing for the plus 2 exams. Many a nests fell down and the eggs were scattered around. The crows flapped their wings and flied around the shamble sensing the danger. The sight of the panicky squirrels, and mongooses running awry caused a prickly feel in me. . The wood cutters hope of having a delicious rabbit meat that day for themselves was thwarted off by Grandpa perhaps, he might too have felt the pinch of the lose. The mango tree, which showered ripe golden mangoes at a whiff of a mild breeze lay there, rooted out in the wreck.
I felt like a part of me being ripped off. I shut my ears so that the cries of the birds and squirrels did not reach my ears. That was during my teens. But development calls for sacrifices , what was new in it? The nagas ,and the belief that surrounded them thus vanished into the nothingness. Now I could see only the rubber trees , the charm of the place was lost though it was lively and my interest got focused on academics and the other usual concerns as that period of my life demanded. .
Though at first , my rational mind questioned and analyzed the concept of the nagas, and idolatry, as the years passed by I began to sense void, an emptiness. Now I need some images to trust, a power to rely on , a way a feel to be centered.
