School Days-2

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 School Days-2 Still Gudavalli

The origins of Gudavalli are not clear. It seems to be an ancient village going back to at least 12 the century. In the years, I was there, I saw Independence Day celebrated and mourned Gandhi’s death.  J.P. Narayan visited, Gandhi visited a nearby village Kavuru. In the school there were plays about Harischandra and Kashmir. We saw some documentaries and were surprised to see farmers wearing trousers. There were visits to Avanigadda and Pesarlanka and relatives during school holidays time spent mostly on farms. In Pesarlanka I came to know of the police presence nearby and various atrocities to communists by Malabar police. Somehow, the practices uniform used by the British seem to have continued. There is very little presence of police in Gudavalli and the usual rhythms continued.

There are lot of things which are dim and which I did not understand. We lived in one half of the house of a farmer Devaiah. Iyengar lived in the house of Subbaiah, who was Devaiah’s brother. It was just across a small street. I used to visit that house but do not remember which half. I have vague memories of Iyengar’s daughters but not his wife. But I remember the kitchen of the other half, yoghurt hanging from above. My first memories of sambaru karamu is from that kitchen. One day coming back from that house, I was poked  near the eye by bullock and still carry that mark on my eyebrow. On the other side is a lane leading to the main road about 150 yards away. We sometimes had to go to the main road to stop the bus for my father. He always seemed late and the conductor would use that time to fire up the coal at the back of the us. One woman used to pinch my cheeks and sometimes kissed me in that lane. Later I heard that she probably was having an affair with my father.

It is not clear to me how it is possible to have affairs in such open and crowded villages but there are hints of such things.

My cousin Baburao was about 6-7 years older than me and he lived with us. He and I used carry some curries made by mother to the tailor’s house. We called him Subbiri, his house half a mail away. Subbiri’s brother was more impressive looking but both wore regular clothes and plain lungis where as Subbiri’s wife dressed in the Muslim way. Though our exchanges were confined to food, she seemed pretty and friendly. Though me and my cousin have fond memories of my mother, he had to do more household work like pounding chutneys than me. My brother was baby and he used to carry him around. In many ways, I saw Indian women I knew being cruel to servants and children of relatives while they themselves faced various problems.

My father was originally taught in a government school for an year so. Gudavalli school was a committee school and I think he was chosen mainly because he was from the same community as the dominant farmers. But it was clear he would leave at some stage. There was also a financial scandal. One of the school clerks (called writers at that time) committed suicide after some school funds disappeared. He left a young wife. I do not remember what she did, but she started some sort of work, could be teaching, and seemed content. I saw her a few times in Jagarlamudi.

For a few months we had a house to ourselves on the Main Street near Ghantavari street. I remember playing marbles, rolling tyres and various games in that street and also visiting ashram at the end of the street. We had our first radio there and moved back to Devaiah’s house. My grandmother came to our house for medical treatment but died of cancer in her forties. We left for Ravela and soon after to Pedapulivarru in 1951.