Fond memories of yesteryear
I DID not fully realise how interesting my birth family had been until much later in my life.
My father was English-educated while my mother was illiterate. Papa was well read and I could interview him, during my schooldays, on practically any topic. Ammah was an emotionally strong woman who was quick to take control of any situation, however desperate it was.
We lived in Seremban. I was the youngest, with two elder sisters and three elder brothers. I escaped any bullying as the parental command was that nobody should bully anyone younger than himself.
Akka, my eldest sister, 10 years my senior, cared for me from a young. When she washed my hair, she would show me how to blow bubbles with the soap! Having been taught tailoring, she made lovely frocks for me, often using leftover material after sewing clothes for herself and Chinnakka, my second sister. Strips of such remnants served as ribbons.
When I was eight, during the Japanese attack on Malaya, I crushed my finger badly and it turned septic. As we were then living at a relative’s home in a rubber plantation in Jemima Estate, where we had taken shelter, and could not go to see any doctor, my Ammah tried to assuage the throbbing pain by bundling the finger in warm cooked rice, but it did not help.
When I moaned in pain at night, Akka patted me and sang soft lullabies till I fell asleep.
When I took part in a school concert, Akka made me pretty “locks” of hair. Chinnakka, six years older than me, took pains to comb my hair and tie a big bow on top of my head!
After Akka got married, Chinnakka would get tidbits for me, hiding them from Kula, the third brother. If she found twin bananas, we shared them, hoping to have twins later! Stashing away some ripe tomatoes while helping Ammah in the kitchen, she taught me to eat the slices dipped in sugar and we both would have a feast!
Her schooling ended abruptly during the Japanese occupation as the Japs would carry away pretty young girls to be “comfort women” for their officers. Chinnakka was very beautiful and had to be kept out of their sight. Bored at home, she used to be annoyed with my addiction to books. Hence she occasionally hid my books, demanding more attention from me or insisted that I help in grinding the dhal and rice for thosai.
One room in our home was directly above the office section of Papa’s shop where he presided over two clerks. Some of the floor planks in that room had rotted, leaving slits one could use as peep holes. Hence, all six of us would have our ears glued to the floor if we suspected that our parents were discussing serious matters not meant for our ears!
Appu, my eldest brother, sometimes borrowed a projector from his friend. When our parents were out for the evening, he played Charlie Chaplin movies, using a white bedsheet as the screen. At other such times, he would turn off the main switch, sending me scuttling onto Akka’s lap. He would then light a candle and make frightful shadow pictures on the wall, using his hands.
Chinnannai, my second brother, was a real bookworm. When there was strife at home and things became too noisy, he would grab a book, saying he was going to study at the Lake Gardens. Kula, younger than him, did some sleuthing work and reported to the rest of us that he was actually swimming in the lake! (Kula later became a police officer – ACP Kulasingam).
One day, all three brothers got some bamboo stems from the hedge behind the convent school. These would be tied to long poles and used for dusting the inside of the roof tiles, as our roof had no ceiling. Once, they found reams of textile in the hedge. The three Musket-eers piled them onto my eldest brother’s bicycle, hiding the stash beneath the bamboo cuttings, and cycled home.
My parents, after questioning them, concluded that someone had stolen and hidden them there. So my mother used the material as there were no textiles available in the shops except through the
“black market”, from war-time looters.
As all fireplaces needed firewood, sold at exorbitant prices, the “three Musketeers” decided to help out. They found a wooded area, out of the town limits, with trees suitable to our needs. They set out with axes and saws. They felled trees, trimmed them of foliage and sawed them into portable pieces. When they were ready to be brought home, Kula cycled to where he could book a bullock-carter. He placed his bicycle on the cart, and rode in the cart, entertaining the driver with his rendition of Tamil songs. The brothers brought home the wood which they sawed and axed into sizes approved by Ammah.
When the Japanese occupation of Malaya ended and the British Military Administration took control of Malaya, there were encampments of the Indian, Australian and British soldiers in various parts of Seremban.
Kula, the adventurous one, made friends with some Indian soldiers. He spun out their sad situation to tender-hearted Ammah who cooked lots of food for them. In return, they gave him a couple of their ration tins.