"We do not experience now the love we had known in olden days. We will not get back the old times. The affections of earlier days were entirely different. Now there is no fear, no devotion. Everybody acts and thinks freely. You find only selfishness everywhere. If you want to drive away dishonesty we must get a military government ……. The other day the motor got burnt. When a request was made for a new transformer, each fellow…….."

Anjaiah had been shouting continuously for more than half-an-hour…… His sisters and brothers-in-law nodded their heads not knowing whether he was shouting in his drunken stupor or whether it was the problems of the world that made him shout. Anjaiah's wife was serving food. Both her ears were bedecked with jewels. She had draped her saree around her thighs and waist tightly with a neat fold at the back.

Kokkula Mallesham heard the shouts of Anjaiah clearly as if from a loudspeaker. The words of Anjaiah were slowly sinking into his mind like the stupor produced by the toddy he had consumed. He thought of interrupting Anjaiah four or five times but desisted from doing so thinking that it would not be proper. But the vocal discussion of Anjaiah was getting more violent minute by minute.

Mallesham grew impatient. He had gone to the palmyra grove along the hill slopes and was sitting under a tree for a picnic on a Sunday, it being a holiday. But the discussion was destroying the peace….. psch…. psch… When it would end he did not know. Gowda who supplies the toddy left the place…. “I'll give toddy to the other people and come back. It is long since I came….." he said while going away. Anjaiah felt bad. "As toddy, beer and and brandy have been banned, the demand for these Gowdas has increased a great deal…. I wonder how so much toddy is being made available for so many people….." he murmured.

Mallesham turned towards the other side hesitatingly. People were sitting on either side of the trees with mutton, chicken, boiled and fried alachanda pulses. The women were sitting with toddy glasses before them. Men started eating mutton having drunk toddy using fig leaves. Children were also tasting toddy sipping from glass tumblers.

On a holiday hundreds of families gather at the hill sides for a picnic. The entire hillside is full of life, with people who had come on different vehicles, cycles, and other type of vehicles and Maruthi cars. Each family cooks for itself. Each family has its own life style, its own topics for discussion… its own social level maintained in the dishes prepared…. the relatives attending the picnic according to their convenience.

Mallesham also established his camp like Anjayya…. Mutton, chicken, boiled alachanda….pulses. But there was a little difference between the two. There were two scooters by the side of Mallesham….and a little difference in habits too. Mallesham's family moved away from using leaves for drinking toddy. If they drink toddy through leaves they find it difficult to swallow it. They are now used to drinking using glasses.

Swapna, Mallesham's little daughter, was going round handing glasses filled with toddy to those gathered there and was coming back to her father who was filling them again with toddy. Mallesham was sitting pretty near the toddy pot like the gods and demons by the side of the vessel containing Amrita, the divine drink*…. If anyone saw him in that posture and situation, they would change his surname and call him toddy pot Mallesham and not Kokkula Mallesham. His belly was competing with the size of the pot, challenging its bigness….Mallesham's mother Dubbakka with her toothless gums was wrestling with the boiled pulses.

"Mother…. In earlier days did we have this palav rice….?" Mallesham asked his mother. Perhaps he wanted to indirectly answer Anjayya through his mother….. Dubbakka started talking philosophy.

"What did we have in our houses in olden days, bidda (dear son)? We managed to live drinking gruel and porridge. My father used to tell me that in former times they ate clay and earth as they did not get rice to fill their stomachs. During that time good and happy living meant eating thick gruel or porridge…. Do not remind me of those days, son… What do you know how much the Patels, Patwari's and Chiefs exploited us?

“If they demanded we had to buy the yarn ourselves and weave the cloth for them and give…. Could we dare to ask money?. We had to stand before them with folded hands and bend low…. If we asked them money opening our mouth, that was the end. For a paltry sum of thirty rupees they made us go round them for three years…."

"Atta (Aunt) ….but that Anjanna…. when he says that old times were good why don't you speak a single word….?" Dubbakka's younger son-in-law Kasturi Rajesham further tickled her with his question.

Swapna completed serving toddy and sat before her leaf. She was sipping toddy from the glass and biting mutton pieces. She looked at her grandmother with interest. Dubbakka was worldly- wise….." Did we come here to pick up a quarrel..." she asked and began to speak.

"What have we to do with them, Swapna…. They look like the Gudeti Kapu community people. Don't you understand by looking at their ornaments, and the manner they have draped their sarees…. People who had made others drudge for them and lived, and now who have fallen on bad days without doing any work - such asses talk in that manner saying that olden days were good. They loved people who drudged at their marriages, festivals and celebrations. Naturally they boast about the good days of the past…. You will know what it was if you ask those who drudged for these donkeys - whether they did the drudgery for fear and pain of punishment or for love…. After these 'annas' (the naxalites) made their appearance, things have become easy."

"Naanamma (father’s mother)! How can you tell their caste by looking at their ornaments, jewels and the way they drape their sarees?" asked Swapna.

"The people of earlier times were like that….. But now all look alike in their dress habits…."

"Mother…. it appears the Bathukamma* festivals were celebrated on a grand scale…." Dubbakka's younger daughter, Kasturi Saroja, put in emptying the toddy in her glass.

"Yes, they used to celebrate them grandly. All the women of the village should carry with them Bathukammas to the houses of the Chiefs, Patwaris and Patels and sing and perform the dance there. But it was not known who among the good looking girls would be asked by these Chiefs to bed with them on their tape cots. No one knew where they would drag these girls…. May be to the cattle sheds, to the fields or anywhere else. Women were afraid of wearing a decent saree. No one knew which man would get impassioned on seeing a woman. The Chief's brother tried to manhandle me.... your father, his younger brother and uncle caught hold of him and broke his fore-arm. Later we all left the place and came away to this village. For the people who lived such a life in the past and enjoyed authority, the present does not appear good.

“What was available in olden days, bidda… They are sorry that the coolies are not available for low wages. Those times have gone when dhobis, barbers, weavers and labourers used to serve the entire year if they were given some maize and other serials. Now the malas and madigas are going to Arab countries and earning a lot. Women have started to roll beedies and refuse to do field work even if they are offered thirty rupees a day. Everyone wears white dresses and is living happily. Will they not feel envious of these developments?

“Now after the advent of 'annas' the importance of the Chiefs has been lost. Won't they say that all have become free? For those who got work done through drudgery will not the old days appear as good days, son?" What else will be good for them now?” Dubbavva started talking aloud boldly as the toddy intoxicated her. She began recollecting old memories.

"Bidda! In olden days it was not easy like now to eat mutton. If sheep died of diseases, they were bought at cheap rates. They wore the cloth woven by us and ridiculed us. To-day we have mills. In the past how did the young and the old wear their clothes? Whose labour was it? That was the time when we were called -names- we who had given them culture. Was it not our community that wove the cloth patiently? Will not people who don't cover their nakedness be called uncivilized?

"What was there in the olden days? Thirty years ago only bullock carts were used. We had no cultivation. How could we afford bullock carts? If we wanted to attend a religious fair and asked for bullock carts for hire, they demanded large amounts. They refused to use farm bullocks to drive the carts. When I was pregnant with you we had vowed to worship Lord Anjaneya on the hillock. I was in the fifth mouth of pregnancy. No one agreed to lend us the bullock cart to go to the hillock. We walked up the distance carrying a cock and other articles the whole day. Your sister could not walk. Your father carried her on his shoulders. Our legs were aching. How to climb the hillock and walk down? Our calf muscles pained and got swollen. What did we eat then, son? ….. Now they go up the hillock on scooters. They go with their samans on buses. Now we use grinders and finish cooking in one hour. In those days were there so many items cooked as now? We used coriander powder with tamarind to prepare what is called rasam. By boiling some chilli powder with tamarind, something like what is called 'pulusu' was prepared. Look at the place now. They have laid roads on the hills also and buses as well as scooters go up to the temple….

"In those days you don't know how much we were afraid of nights. Where was this electricity then? Darkness followed sun set. We lighted castor oil lamps, ate something and slept off till the morning…. How many mosquitoes there were then! Your father went on weaving and weaving and thought the fever would subside by itself and he died because of that malaria fever. The child born before you were born died at the age of three with small-pox. My husband went to distribute woven clothes and died of snake bite in the night. Where were all these medicines and the doctors then? He walked home thinking that some thorn had pricked him, foamed at mouth and died. There was no time even to get him treated with some mantra….

"My sister died of fits in child birth. I used to suffer from pain in the stomach whatever I ate. Who bothered about me? I would eat some leaf vegetable with onion and chilli powder. Your father was beating me with the wooden bar which is used for weaving as he would beat a buffalo. He would send me to get starch to stiffen the woven cloth. Would they give me the rice starch soon? They would tell me to do some work or sit and gossip for some time. Your father would scold me asking where I was all the while and beat me…. Oh god! I don't wish those difficulties to be faced even by enemies.

"How many difficulties did I face to educate you! When you had no school I used to ask you to help in weaving. You would be naughty and would not help in weaving. Do you remember how many wooden bars, used for weaving, broke on your back?

"I did not lead a happy life when your father was alive. Also, after his death. It is a little better now after this beedi rolling work started. If this livelihood had not been there, all our weavers would have died. How many of our people can find work in Bhivandi, in Bombay for weaving cloth? I was here with you children and your father was there alone. Your father would manage to eat something there and send money….. Do you know how we suffered and struggled to bring you up?

"After your studies you spent time idly doing nothing. You could not bend your body to work in beedi rolling. You preferred to work in a shop but not to roll beedis. Because of that apathi mallamma you got a job with a salary of one hundred and twenty rupees…

"It is not apathi mallamma, aunty, it is ‘half a million job’ scheme. The Governor H.C.Sareen introduced the scheme in the year 1973…." corrected Kasturi Rajesham.

"Whatever it is … you see, I could not twist my tongue to say it. You were sent to places and places, into hills and villages because of the job. You do not know how much I cried. You had to go beyond Manthani and Madapur. A strange place. I cried saying why you should go so far away. Who knows how the officers behave and how others behave. If you get cought there in the rainy season one could not reach that place till advanced summer. All round there were streams, slushy soil… 

"That is only our Karimnagar district. Am I going to Bombay?" You asked. You both carried hand bags taking your clothes and a couple of vessels to cook your food. After working there for four years you were transferred to Jagtial taluk. 

“Then there was some stability in life. My daughter-in-law appealed to the Panchayati asking for a divorce. I had to meet the people again and again to see that the Panchayati did not take place. I had to sell my gold arnaments to supply toddy to the elders of the community.

"Who is now spending a happy life? We suffered a lot and worked hard .... You, your husband and your children, – you are happy. Now you are able to give English medium education to your Swapna paying hundreds of rupees as the fee. Now my son earns a salary of five thousand rupees. What did we have in our days? We wore twenty number thick sarees. How many wore sixty number five yard sarees then? Now every woman wears hundred number and hundred twenty number super fine sarees. And many other varieties.

"They don't remember…. It was this Anjaiah who refused to help us by sending his bullock cart to go to the hillock… this Anjaiah was brought up by his grand-mother. His mother had an only sister. She had no uncles. When the grandfather died, Anjaiah's mother took everyone to her mother's house. After five years we left the place.

"Anyway they prospered. They secured two power driven motors. Lands came under canal cultivation. They are now riding scooters. Are they working with the old methods of drawing water from wells? 

“They just press a button and attend to other work. How dark was Anjaiah when he was a boy of your age? Look at him now. By sitting in the shade all the time, how fair he has grown in complexion! Yet they say the olden days were good! The other day, for Swapna's birthday, how many of her friends and relations came! 

“In olden days even for marriages so many people did not turn up. Only caste people used to attend marriages, of their caste only. Now, more than the caste, relations and friends are turning up in large numbers. 

“I wonder whether kings fed so many people at dinners in their days. In my days parties came to an understanding that "from your side twenty five and from our side twenty five" should attend the marriage. There were disputes as to who should feed the bullocks that draw the carts. At the time of serving food also there were problems of caste.”

The gathering was going on drinking toddy, eating chicken and boiled and fried pulses and nuts. The gossip and conversation was kept going. Dubbakka grew philosophical. Anjaiah was chopping away something a little away. If intellectuals heard those discussions, they would faint! For Swapna and children all this talk was something like a message from the dream-land. This is the advantage if the entire family goes on a picnic. Hearts open up. Children and adults learn about their past and their culture and imbibe these facts automatically, unconsciously.

~*~

Kasturi Dubbakka was in the hospital after an operation performed for pain in the stomach. Her daughter-in-law was attending on her in the hospital. Mallesham started carrying food in a container for them both. There was a traffic jam. He moved forward pushing his scooter. Some people were shouting that current power – sets were burning up because of low voltage and also shouting for fair prices. He remembered…. Under a tree, near the hill - Anjaiah.

The traffic jam continued for two hours. The police were hesitating to take recourse to lathi charge. What Mallesham wanted to say somebody else said:

"No one has any fear. What is all this as though the road is part of one's grandfather's zagir? Unless military rule is imposed these people will not be cured".

The words struck Anjaiah where they should. He looked severely at the place from where the words were heard. "Yes, yes, say it. You say the ryot is the backbone of the nation. You want the military rule to shoot and kill us.”

"You yourself wanted the military government", Mallesham wanted to say, but shut his mouth. He turned back and reached the hospital going through gullies, handed over the food in the hospital and went to his school.

In the staff room Mondaiah Sastry was boasting that the old days were great." In the Vedic times…" he wanted to say. “Brahmin's also ate the flesh of animals.” “Yagnas and Yagas are all bash," completed Malleshan. A hot dispute started with this statement "Whatever you say, the present-day society is far better than the olden days. My present life is many times better than the life of our ancestors." Mondaiah Sastry was dumb–founded at the argument of Mallesham.

In the evening Mallesham took Swapna to the hospital. There was a crowd in the hospital. Anjaiah's hand was broken in the lathi charge. His hand was in a bandage. There was a crowd of people. M.LAs, press people, Mallesham pushed his way in. "What happened to the love of the present day?" Mallesham wanted to ask Anjaiah but did not. Swapna went near the bed of Anjaiah. "What happened uncle?" she asked him. "Do you remember uncle, on that day we met near the hillock….?" Anjaiah shed tears before the crowd. Were they just tears or were they tears of joy?

Original in Telugu published in Sunday Andhra Jyothy 23-3-1997