I am Just a Planatation Boy : Part 17
PART 17: Coonoor Club ,Here I come!Work became routine .I think I made a fairly good first impression and I was
also learning my job and all aspects of planting from my guru Medhu. Attended a
few more parties and after a few more trails and error I came to the conclusion
that Rum and Cola best suited my system.I was smoking a packet of Wills filters
everyday and nothing very eventful happened and I was already completing 6
months of plantation life .
Six months ? Wow ,which meant that I could now go out weekends and the time had
come when I could become a member of the Coonoor club.And this I did promptly
through my friend VT who introduced me not only to the club but also to the
members there. I bumped into an old friend Bejoy Koshy George who was with me in
College .Bejoy was a tea broker with Forbes,Ewart and Figgs one of the leading
tea broking firms in Coonoor and we met at the table tennis table . Our friendly
TT matches and competition carried on for several years after that .I beat him
in that first best of three games and Bejoy and me became Soul mates. Bejoy
introduced me to several other friends who remain friends till date .
Coonoor Club was an awesome club, an old colonial type building .It had a nice
indoor shuttle court and a TT table ,billiards tables , a well stocked bar and a
huge long hall with card and bridge tables .there were also a few rooms where
guests could stay and a tennis court and a cricket practice nets .Many memorable
weekends and nights would be spent in this place which almost became a second
home .
Samuel Eddy,The Planter had arrived!
Im just a plantation Boy: Part 16
PART 16: The Power of the written wordAfter having said my goodbyes to Victor and Kalyani I rode back to my Bungalow
thinking fondly of these two people who made a great impact in my life and who
remain in my life to this very day.
The next day was the start of a brand new week and I drove to the office to meet
my new boss Mr.V.C.Kuruvilla , the Group Manager of the Katery and Sutton group.
He was a tall man , over six feet .His brushed back hair was thinning and he
wore Ray Ban glasses. He wore khaki trousers and a stripped full sleeved shirt
and a dark brown half sleeved sweater and smoked a lot of cigarettes. His every
sentence ended with a “You see”. He was a man of a few words and was considered
to be very strict. He was a man who believed that the written word was mightier
than the sword.
After UC ing me for some time he came to the point. You need to keep your
distance from the staff and labourers ,you see he said. I nodded my head in
compliance. Every time I come into this room I will be passive smoking a few
cigarettes I thought. He also told me that Mediah would visit my divisions till
the time I could manage on my own and that I will take over the Waterfalls
Division when that happened .And I also realized that he smiled very little as
he spoke .This was going to be a tough cookie!
As I was speaking Mr.John ,the Head Clerk came in every now and then and spoke
something in Malayalam. I did not understand a word. Mr.Kuruvilla then said that
we will visit my division. I was asked to take a note pad from the office. The
note pad had a ruled perforated first page and a blank second page. There was a
carbon sheet between the two pages. So if you wrote on the ruled sheet it was
imprinted in the blank second page
We got into the estate Jeep and Mr.Kuruvilla drove to my division and as we
drove he kept giving instructions as to the various works which had to be done
in each field. Field number 1 has too much of weeds,it had to be sprayed with a
weedicide he said .I made a note of this on the ruled sheet. By the time we
finished the division visit I had a set of instructions to complete before his
next visit the following week.
When we got of the Jeep I tore the perforated first sheet and gave it to him and
I had the second sheet to carry out the various works as instructed by him. And
I had a week to do it. And all I needed to do was to score off as each work got
done. This then was my official to do list. He had the first sheet to follow up!
A simple but effective system!
Im Just a Plantation Boy: PART 15
PART 15: Beauty in a dead piece of wood.The meal over we washed our hands, toweled it and moved over to the sitting
room. The room was filled with all shapes and sizes of driftwood. There were a
lot of indoor plants combined with the driftwood with oodles of imagination. I
absolutely loved this place .Victor was passionate about driftwood, most of
which was carefully selected from the huge firewood lot at the factory as also
from the wild wilderness where Victor and the family visited fairly frequently.
The driftwood was sandpapered, waxed and French polished .Some were just
sandpapered and left in their natural state. Some of the pieces were chunky but
very light as they were drifting along the upper Bhavani River for months or
years. Victor having a keen eye was able to see interesting shapes in them.
Some looked like a bird or animal ,some were vines with the wood knocked out of
them so that they were full of holes .Some were burnt wood in forest fires ,the
tender sap having burnt out and the hard outer crust blackened by the flames .
Victor had made them into lamps, the light shining out through the holes. It was
awesome. Some one who can see so much beauty in a dead piece of wood should have
a beautiful mind I thought. Victor explained how he went about creating art from
dead pieces of wood. It was inspiring talk and I realized that there can be
beauty even in death . It all depends on our attitude and perception. From that
day, thanks to Victor’s inspiration, collecting driftwood became a ardent hobby
for me. I started using them as gifts to prominent people in Coonoor where they
adorn their houses till this day.
What is unique about driftwood is that you can never find another piece exactly
like one as they are shaped by Mother Nature herself. Each piece is an original.
It was unique like me!
After having inspected all of Victors collection we sat down, or I should say
sunk into the sofas, for the ceremonial smoke .I say this as a smoke after food
became almost like a ritual. I hadn’t brought my pack of cigarettes and so
Victor brought out his pack of Bristol , pulled out one and held it out with the
pack. I took one ,lit up and inhaled deeply. That was the first of the very many
Bristol’s that I bummed from Victor in the days, weeks, months and years ahead!!
We called them Coffin Nails!
Im Just a Plantation Boy: Part 14
PART 14: Gods gift to the gastric Juices!As we entered we were welcomed by Kalyani, Victor’s wife.We went straight to the dining room were a lavish spread was neatly laid out. The roasted chicken which had tickled our olfactory senses took pride at the center of the table.
The course started with the sweet corn chicken soup .One of the rules of ettiquette, I had read somewhere, is the noise you don’t make when drinking soup! So I was careful not to make any noise when drinking my soup although the temptation was to go Slurp,Slurp!!.After I had dabbed my mouth with the clean napkin laid out by the side of my plate ,I couldn’t but help have another helping as there was a generous amount of chicken strips in the soup, unlike what you get in a restaurant.
Kalyani, presided over the table like a master of ceremonies in a function, approving I think of my hearty appetite. The weather in the hills makes one almost ravenous and I was still in a growing age!!. I soon realized that most good women definitely know that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And to say that Kalyani was a good woman would have been an understatement. She was one of the best .Victor ,was a man of few words but when he spoke one could sit up and listen with awke. Both of them made me feel as if I were some long lost friend who had suddenly showed up.
There were crusty garlic bread to go with the soup and the steaming fried rice was made with the best basmati rice ,the flavor of which made one tuck in almost unashamedly. Having done justice to the fried rice and the mutton gravy that went with it ,I attacked the roasted chicken as if I was seeing food after months of being marooned in a long lost island. The spoon and fork were forgotten and the good old hands came into play. The old advice of chewing one’s food thirty two times was given a go by and I gulped the soft well roasted tender chicken as if it were on the endangered species list .
Have some more encouraged kalyani and how could I say no to a good offer? The Roasted chicken just didn’t have a chance .It was gone without the slightest trace. And as they say save the best for last , the unbelievable Caramel custard made its destined trip to the table. It stood there on the bone China plate, quivering slightly, almost begging to be eaten. Kalyani gave me a generous helping . Now I must tell you that I have had caramel custards in very many places but THAT caramel custard, like Abu Ben Adam’s name ,leads all the rest .So how do I describe Kalyani’s cooking ?
Definitely ,God’s gift to the gastric juices!
Im Just a Plantation Boy : Part 13
PART !3: Tea Manufacture in a Page!Not having slept the whole night and the goodness of Rum and the satisfaction of not having been missed gave me a good sleep. I got up around 11am on that Sunday. I freshened up ,the icy cold water reviving me like water revives a wilting plant. I also realized that Rum didn’t give you much of a hangover. I dutifully got ready and went to the factory to give every one the idea that I was taking my Rooster duty seriously.
And that’s where I met Victor Davidar, the factory Manager for the first time. Victor wore a checked shirt and khaki trousers ,wore a golf cap and had a empty pipe stuck to his mouth. No smoke came out of it and when I questioned him about it he explained that sucking on an empty pipe helped one cut down on cigarettes. I promptly went and bought a pipe at the next opportunity!!.
Victor took me around the factory and explained to me as to how black teas were made from the green leaf. The green leaf bags were sent to the lofts by hoists on both sides of the factory, and then spread into withering troughs The leaf then withered naturally or were sometimes helped in the process by directing the hot air from the dryers. If you took a handful of withered leaf and rolled them into a ball and it remained as a ball and didn’t spring out then you could come to the conclusion that the leaf had shed enough moisture to be ready for the next process which was Rolling.
The withered leaf was sent down chutes directly to the rollers where it was ground by the rollers into a khaki colored paste. This was then taken to a fermentation room were the temperature was controlled using humidifiers. The rolled leaf was spread on tiered trays and left to ferment.
This was then fed into the dryers which actually roasted the tea and it came out as black tea.. Then this tea was passed trough fibromats to remove the fiber and finally graded into different grades using sifters . The different grades like BOP ( Broken Orange Pekoe) OP ,etc were packed in plywood chests lined with aluminum foil to retain the aroma ,sealed and sent for dispatch to the tea auctions. I was fascinated at the process .
Victor was passionate about gardening and his speciality was lawns .he maintained strict law n order at the factory and in his Bungalow! The factory blue grass lawn won several prizes in the Ooty flower show. The secret of a good lawn is in maintaining the absolute level and regular mowing he explained while glancing approvingly at the meticulously maintained green velvety blue grass lawn.
It was 1,30 pm and my stomach was rumbling. .Come home for lunch Victor said .I thought he was never going to ask. We walked up to his Bungalow which was just above the factory .What strikes you as you enter is the immaculately maintained garden .Roses of varied hues were in bloom in neatly cut rounds in the grass.WOW.
The aroma of roasted chicken hung heavily in the damp mountain air!
Im Just a Plantation Boy: PART 12
PART 12 : Hey! I was not missed.VT had a beautiful Bungalow. It was situated right at the top of Glendale Estate. In fact they called it the top Bungalow. The walls were totally covered with live green Ivy and had freshly painted white framed glass windows. VT brought out the bottle of military Rum and we poured ourselves a glass each. We chatted the whole night and caught up on the one year that we had not been in touch. He had settled down to the Planters way of living. He spoke about the Club life. I could not become a member of Coonoor club for six months. We spoke about the crop and weather, typical planters talk.
Suddenly I asked him what the time was. 5 am he said. I felt like how Cinderalla would have felt when the clock struck twelve. I told VT that I had to scoot. It was an uphill ride all the way. I started my bike, the beat of which shattered the silence of the early morning. I didn’t have much of warm clothing but I had stuffed several layers of newspaper under my full sleeved shirt. That always works to keep one warm, a secret which I learnt in the plantations. The idea was to protect my chest against the cold wind.
And I had to protect my ears as they burn when exposed to the biting cold. I put on a monkey cap and my helmet on top of that. I felt quite warm, the rum also helped! And after saying my goodbyes I started my climb back.
It was so dark that I couldn’t see the nose in front of me... The headlights lit up the winding road and I reached the edge of my estate. I switched off the bike and the silence was deafening. It took a while for my eyes to get accustomed to the dark and a chill ran down my spine .What if there were snakes lurking around? I only learned much later that snakes aren’t nocturnal...
I saw my Bungalow lights and I made my way cautiously towards it. My Butler opened the door and let me in. Was there any calls? Did anybody drop in? No, no one!
Sometimes it’s good not to be missed!!
SAMUEL EDDY
Im Just a Plantation Boy: Part 11
PART 11: Rooster ?..........I thought that it was a Cock!!The weekend quickly came by and I was pretty excited . I will explore the places nearby I told myself.. During the week I had explored the small shoala that was just above my bungalow. It was beautiful and serene .A small stream meandered its way in the middle of the Shoala and the embankments were covered with different varieties or ferns .A clump of tree ferns stood by the Pathway. A few Jungle fowls scuttled across showing off their bright plumage. A barking deer suddenly darted across. I loved this new world to which I was introduced.
That weekend I thought I would visit my old buddy V.T.Rajan who had become a Planter a year earlier and who was the Assistant on Glendale Estate , a kothari Group Estate. VT as he was known was the only guy I knew in the Nilgris. VT’s grandfather was Sir P.T.Rajan ,a well known icon in Madurai, where roads are named after him. I had met VT for the first time in a cricket match where we were rivals playing for our respective colleges. What attracted me to VT? We were the only two guys who spoke English in that crowd and so we hit it off very well. He was one guy who was on my wave length and we remain friends till today and always!
Well ,you cannot go out for 6 months as you will be on Rooster duty on all weekends I was told. Rooster? What the hell was that ? Till that time I thought a Rooster was a Cock.
I was told that it was a kind of a list which indicated that I was on official duty on all weekends for six months!!! Id be damned if I was expected to work 12 to 14 hours a day for the whole week and couldn’t go out for 6 months! I didn’t see any wisdom in such a decision.
I contacted my friend VT and told him to expect me for dinner that Saturday night. From my Bungalow to his was downhill all the way. The moonlight was bright and I got onto my bike ,put it on neutral gear and without switching on the lights rode downhill without starting my bike. It took me 15 minutes to get to the outstretched arms of VT. I didn’t expect to be missed after 8 pm.
Bunking was sooooo much fun!
SAMUEL EDDY
Im Just a Plantation Boy- Part 10
PART 10 : If music be the love of life……..play on.
The loneliness of living in a huge Bungalow was killing me. Believe me ,it is no fun walking into a empty house. I was missing my parents even my Dad’s reprimands .I was a voracious reader but I had not brought any of my books with me. What do I do in a eerie Bungalow all by myself?
The next day I walked into the Group office and the Head Clerk Mr.John handed me an envelope. Opening it I found 2000 rupees in it. I looked at Mr John. questioningly .Kit allowance he explained with a big grin. To me it was like manna from Heaven. That’s to buy your initial needs he said. And the estate Jeep and driver are available to take you to Coonoor and shop he further added.
The drive to Coonoor was spent contemplating how to blow up the 2000 rupees. Coonoor is a small hill town. You crossed the railway tracks and on your right was the bus stand .The left took you to the market. and the shops which made up the town. Having made up my mind I went straight to Variety Hall. The smiling owner Shanti came up to me and enquired how can I help you.? I want a record player I said and finally settled for a HMV set with a built in amplifier and 2 speakers. I needed to get a 33rpm record to play. After leafing through a stack of them I finally settled on Elton John.
Nest I went to Simrathmull the famous textile shop in Coonoor town and picked a few wollen stockings and bought the cloth for an odd coat. I was directed to Gopalan the tailor who took my measurements and told me that my coat would be ready by the weekend. Gopal who accompanied me went to the market to pick up some vegetables. I then picked up a couple of packets of Wills filter-the planters brand of cigarettes! Yes I had started smoking to kill the loneliness. It is nice to see the glow of red against the pitch black darkness. We drove back.
I looked with pride at my purchases .Not a bad deal for Rs 2000 I thought. The music system ,my first, had cost me about Rs 1200. I wasted no time in setting up my system. It was a chilly cold night and the silence was deafening. I switched on the system, took out the record and played. . “Goodbye yellow brick road” sang Elton.,his voice cutting through the silence like a hot knife through butter. Next came “Daniel is leaving on a plane tonight” .I loved the music and sang loudly along, the lyrics etching into my brain where it remains till date.
Suddenly ………………the hills were alive with the sound of music!!
SAMUEL EDDY
Im Just a Plantation Boy:Part 9
PART 9 : Two leaves and a bud…..And the cup that Cheers!
I had been drinking tea for almost 2 decades but had absolutely no idea how it was made. The tea bush is a perennial tree which can grow to over 100 feet but it is pruned once in 4 or 5 years to keep it at pluckable levels. The pluckers mostly women pluck the 2 leaf and a bud and drop it behind their backs in a jute cloth which they tie, one end to their heads and one end around their waist .Experienced pluckers pluck over a 100 kgs a day and earn much more than their male counterparts and as they pluck they get rid of the fibrous stalks using the nail on their thumbs .Its an interesting spectacle to watch, the speed at which they pluck and the stalks flying behind .And they have to be selective in their plucking taking care not to pluck the immature buds or leave any half leaves on the bush. And we called them unskilled labor.!!
The plucked leaf is then packed in coir or of late plastic bags ,20 kgs to a bag .The Plucking writer notes the weight of leaf plucked in a plucking card with the plucker. The pluckers eyed me with a mixture of curiosity and fear as I went around inspecting the tea bushes. They would pluck this field again in the next 10 to 12 days by which time the field would be sprayed if it had any pests or given a fertilizer spray to ensure better yield.
The tea bags would then be transported to the factory in a mini lorry, one for each division. The daily crop from each division would be displayed on the factory notice board , There was cut throat competition amongst the divisions to maximize the yields and so the Asstistant.Manager was expected to visit the factory every evening to compare and compete. The quality of green leaf was also monitored very closely and if there were more than 3 leaf and a bud then we were sure to get a memo from the big boss. So we made it a point to be present during the quality analysis both to ensure compliance and to influence the supervisor who took the count. Some of my colleagues went to ridiculous lengths to do this sometimes using threats and bribes and I must confess I soon learnt the tricks of the trade and followed suit.
After this I rode back the 10kms to the Bungalow by around 8pm.So that’s about 14 to 15 hours of work a day! A planter is supposed to “work hard, play hard and drink hard” is what I read in the Planters chronicle, a magazine for planters . The Bungalow was cold and lonely and after a sumptuous dinner of Chapattis and beef fry .I hit the sack.
How do I kill the loneliness ?
SAMUEL EDDY
Im Just a plantation Boy-Part 8
PART 8 : Waking up alt 6am.The party had reached a stage when the fast wild music had come down to slow foxtrots and sentimental music and two bodies becoming one as dance partners hugged each other as if the world was coming to an end!
Have you tried Rum and Coca Cola ,the young thing cooed .I’ve heard the song I said. You must try it she said. The image of Eve tempting Adam came to mind. And like the foregone conclusion I picked up a rum and Coke. It actually tasted good , the sweet coke masking the taste of the bitter Rum.
Never mix drinks were an advice I had never heard before and like a lamp being led to slaughter I was drawn into the stupor world. The boom boom sound of the bass was thudding into my heart .My head was spinning like a top.
Ready to go some voice said and I remember nodding my head in agreement. If you ask me how I got home my answer would have been I don’t know.
When my butler woke me up the next morning with a cheerful cup of hot tea I couldn’t have been more thankful as my head was pounding like a sledgehammer. It was 6 am in the morning and freezing. Muster is at 6.30 am he said. By the time I finished my tea ,the just right warm water in the tub was ready .When I got out feeling better but a little groggy ,my shorts, a clean dark blue shirt ,the woolen stockings and all the other paraphernalia was neatly laid on the bed. When I came out of the bedroom ,the mutton omelet was on the dining table.
I came out ,got on to the bike and .Gopal ,my butler came and handed me my cowboy hat. I was now dressed like a typical planter .I rode the bike the 1km distance to the muster ground where all my workers were waiting to be dispersed to the various operations in the estate. Weeding, pesticide spraying, manuring, tree trimming etc .The muster is a short 15 minute operation but if you missed it since you couldn’t induce yourself to wake up early ,then you were like a blind man groping in the dark as it is difficult to know where your workers are working in a 5000 acre estate.
And that started a life time of waking up at 6am!
SAMUEL EDDY
