Veranda Tales-Are they connected?
Storytelling has been an integral part of my life since childhood. I grew up listening to stories during the hot summer evenings and nights with my cousins. Mothers and grandmothers would gather all of us children for story time. It was usually pitch dark except for a very faint light coming from the flickering candle. Power cuts were as frequent as the hot and humid summer days. We all spread out on a cool concrete floor or bamboo mats on the veranda intently listening to fascinating stories about kings, queens, princes, princesses, and peasants alike. Stories about love, life, families, and people entertained and taught us life skills. These stories transported us to distant worlds, strange yet familiar. Often the same story told by two people sounded different as storytellers added new twists and turns adding their personal style and flair to the stories.
Storytelling wasn’t limited to summer evenings and bedtime. I was surrounded by adults who didn’t pass up an opportunity to share their wisdom using the art of storytelling. These rich vibrant oral traditions include songs, poems, stories, and సామెతలు (Sametalu are proverbs in Telugu). Men and women sing songs as they work in the fields, grinding grains and spices and doing other daily chores at their homes. Stories are often used to teach important life lessons, interpersonal skills, and survival skills. These stories and the time spent listening to them made our lives richer leaving an impression on me. This series is all about reliving those memories as I share these stories.
కాకతాళీయం (kakathaleeyam)
I grew up in the coastal region of Andhra Pradesh, home to several rivers, including the Godavari, the Krishna, and their deltas. The Krishna-Godavari delta is known as the rice bowl of India. The best thing about riding in a train on the Howrah–Chennai main line is the gorgeous green rice fields going by one after the other as the train snakes its way from one station to another. During planting season, you can see men and women in brightly colored clothes bending down in ankle deep water as they plant the rice fields. Rice is a water thirsty plant. Rice fields are visibly flooded with water during the planting season. Men and women each have a bucket full of small saplings next to them. They take a few at a time in their hands as they plant each sapling gently down into the ground. Rice is generally grown from June-August and October - December.
If I was lucky enough to find a seat by the window, I could watch different stages of rice growing as I traveled along the coastal Andhra Pradesh in buses and trains to visit family when I was younger and traveling between college and home for the holidays. I would board the Howrah Mail train in Vijayawada bright and early at 6:30 AM after taking a bus or a train from Guntur. నాన్న (Nanna is father in Telugu) would come with me to Vijayawada to safely put me on the train or do the same at the Guntur train station. Either way I would leave home before sunrise and make it to Visahpkhapatam at 1PM. After broadening the train, I would find a spot by the window for an awesome view of the world passing by as I sat mesmerized in my seat. The lives unfolded in front of eyes, with men and women making their way to fields, children walking to schools in their school uniforms, milkmen riding bicycles with two large canisters of fresh milk on either side of the bicycle, men and women carrying baskets full of fresh vegetables on their heads, and people washing their faces and bathing.
The coastal regions are home to తాటి చెట్టు (thati chettu), a tall Asian palmyra palm. The region is dotted with large తాటి తోపులు (thati thopulu are thati groves) and small groups of తాటి చెట్లు (thati chetlu). There was a large తాటి తోపు (thatithopu) next to నానమ్మ (Nanamma is paternal grandmother)’s house. I would walk close to it to take a peek and never dared to step in to check it out even during the broad daylight as it was dark in the grove. తాటి చెట్లు (thati chetlu) are very tall and grow to a height of 30 meters (98 feet). తాటి చెట్టు (thati chettu) has a grayish black trunk with a cluster of large hand shaped leaves at the crown of the tree. This tree offers no shade. Every part of this tree is used in daily life in Andhra Pradesh and has attained the divine status of ఆంధ్ర కల్పవృక్షం (Andhra kalpa vriksham). The Kalpa vriksham is a divine wish fulfilling tree in Hinduism, Jainism, and Buddhism.
Its long trunk is used as a bridge to cross streams and as vertical support beams and horizontal roofing beams to build dwellings. Its leaves were used for writing in the olden days. Paper made out of తాటి చెట్టు (thati chettu)’s leaves are called తాళపత్ర (thaala patra). I had the good fortune to see a very old తాళపత్ర (thaala patra) at the Salar Jung Museum. The leaves of this tree are used to cover roofs of houses, to weave baskets and bags to carry things, woven into mats to sit on, hand fans to keep cool, and umbrellas to protect from the Sun and rain.
The tender sprouts of this tree are called తాటి తేగలు (thati thegalu) in Telugu. They are roasted for a delicious snack. Door to door vendors would bring తాటి తేగలు (thati thegalu) and తాటి ముంజలు (thati munjalu), tender fruits which are called Ice Apples in English. They are translucent white in color, tender, and hold cool water in the center. They melt in the mouth as the water squirts out to cool your mouth on a hot summer afternoon. I would wait for summers to enjoy తాటి ముంజలు (thati munjalu). The ripened fruit is called తాటి పండు (thati pandu) in Telugu. It is shiny black round fruit covered with pale yellow leafy layers. These fruits have tough exteriors and won’t give up their delicious juice until roasted. I remember sitting in front of a fire watching the fruits being roasted eagerly waiting to enjoy the hot and delicious orange colored juice. The juice is dried to make a delicious fruit snack called తాటి తాండ్ర (thati thandra) and fermented to make alcohol called తాటి కల్లు (thati kallu).
తాటి చెట్టు (thati chettu) is used to express emotions, ethical messages, and life lessons. The phrase, కాకతాళీయం (kakathaleeyam) is one such example. This phrase is about a కాకి (kaki) and a తాటి పండు (thati pandu). It describes two unconnected incidents that seem connected. A కాకి (kaki is crow in Telugu) landed on a తాటి చెట్టు (thati chettu) to take a break from searching for food. The tall tree offered a good vantage point for scoping out the surrounding area. There happened to be a very ripe తాటి పండు (thati pandu) hanging on to the tree by its last thread close to where the కాకి (kaki) landed. The leaf కాకి (kaki) landed shook and the తాటి పండు (thati pandu) bokek free falling to the ground. An observer said out loud, “Look, look, కాకి (kaki) knocked the తాటి పండు (thati pandu) to the ground”, as he reached to pick up the తాటి పండు (thati pandu). He wouldn’t have climbed up the tree to get the fruit, and now it fell in his lap. He went home happily to share తాటి పండు (thati pandu) with his family.
Was కాకి (kaki) truly responsible for knocking the తాటి పండు (thati pandu) to the ground? తాటి పండు (thati pandu) falling to the ground and కాకి (kaki) landing on the tree are two unconnected events, even though they might appear to be connected. The phrase, కాకతాళీయం (kakathaleeyam) describes the phenomenon of two unconnected events result in a third event which makes them look like they are connected.
అమ్మ (Ammma) and నాన్న (Nanna) and other adults around me used కాకతాళీయంగా (kakathaleeyamga) to describe an unexpected incident. నాన్న (Nanna) would use it when a casual conversation with a friend resulted in him finding out about something he wasn’t expecting. He would come home and tell us about the incident, preceding it with కాకతాళీయంగా (kakathaleeyamga). This phrase reminds me of all things good about ఆంధ్ర కల్పవృక్షం (Andhra kalpa vriksham) and the memories of spending time with నానమ్మ (Nanamma) at her house next to the large తాటి తోపు (thatithopu) adjacent to it.