We
were thirsty, while driving down from Mettur towards Thoppur to our
final destination. On the Hill section towards Thoppur, (I would not
dare call it a ghat section assuming that a hill section is lesser than a
ghat section) close to Thoppur there were many small roadside outlets
selling Tender Coconut water to passers by. We missed the first few and
then almost stopped at one but decided against it. Due to rain that
morning the road was slush and it would have been difficult to get off
and enjoy the Tender Coconut water, we would have had to sit in the car
rather than get down stretch our legs and enjoy the water strike up a
conversation with the vendor and enrich myself. An important aspect of
stopping on the indian Highways is to strike up a conversation, listen
to local news, gossip and learn about rituals, traditions etc.
Further down we stopped at another roadside TC water pile. When I say pile, Yes a pile because all these micro outlets pile the coconuts along the road to attract vehicles. this particular pile of coconuts was like a magnet, the owner had chosen a great location, shady, lots of space, no other human in sight, broad road, seemed very nice. Just to make sure that the sun did not get to her the Coconut Woman had arranged coconut palms above on the branches of the tree this ensured complete shade. She had also under the shade a folding steel chair to sit on when there were no customers. She did have hundreds of coconuts for company a huge pile and behind her were many hundred shells of coconuts which she had sold the shell she would sell to people who would extract the fibre for rope and the shell could be used for making activated carbon.These hundreds of coconut shells also demonstrated how successful she was. I told myself that location matters, true and how much more does "service".
This small roadside coconut woman had set up shop in a village called "Vellai Kall" (White Stone), there were no white stones around but only red earth, no houses in sight, nor any sign of a village closeby but just a long ribbon of black on which vehicles were moving at high speed many of them not even turning to look at her outlet, the occupants busy talking to each other or in thought hurrying to get to their destination.
We had one coconut each and then asked for more, all of us opted for coconuts which had a lot of flesh rather than water, she explained that if there was flesh there would be little water but the water would be sweet, but if one wanted more water than there will not be much flesh and the water may not be as sweet. A lesson for an urban born.
Thamaraikanni (Lotus Woman) was a typical South Indian villager, heavily oiled and long hair, plaited tight with not a single hair out of place in spite of the mild breeze, a mouthful of betel leaves, arcenut and tobacco colouring her mouth deep red.A large nose stud and wearing a thali pointing out that she was married.
When we asked for another helping I noticed the way she cut the coconut, she skillfully held it in her left hand and holding the heavy knife in her right she deftly chopped away huge chunks of the coconut to reveal the top of the shell which she cracked with her knife and then chopped off to reveal the flesh of the coconut. She would then scoop out the exposed flesh and then the it was ready. One could either use a straw (city slicker) or take the coconut to the mouth and drink the water by tilting the nut upwards like it should be done. A coconut would weigh about 2 Kgs each and this on one hand and the heave knife which would weigh another 1.5 Kgs on the other meant that not only was she strong but would be capable of taking care of herself. One has to watch a coconut being cut to be able to appreciate the skill required to carry out this seemingly simple task. I would have chopped my hand off if I had tried to cut one.
After our first helping Thamaraikanni slowly warmed up to the conversation, she explained to us about coconuts, how to choose the right one for our needs, which has more water which more flesh, when the water would be sweet and so on. She told us about her village "Vellaikalu" and in between when she found the conversation funny she would laugh and when she laughed she would show a mouth which was deep red. Her husband was elsewhere working and she was supplementing the family income with this little shop of hers. She was initially guarded in her speech and when she realised that I was just joking around and gathering information because of my curiosity her guard went down and she opened up. She came up with a few repartees which pointed to a certain intelligence a way of talking which was more than common. When I asked her "Evvalavu thenga oru nalukku vippe?" (How many coconuts will you sell a day?) she spread her hands out and said Evvalavu (this much). Then she exclaimed that if you had asked me "Ethana thenga?" then I would have given you number of cocnuts I would sell. According to her Evvalavu meant mass and ethane meant numbers. I did not know this and all my life have been using these two words interchangeably. In fact I wanted her to be right,I felt that I had met a woman form a village who had risen far above her origin and would continue to do so
because of her pleasing personality, patience, hard work, graciousness, simplicity and skills.
Preparing to leave we paid her, her dues and then a truck came along and stopped at her shop. The lone driver got down and sauntered in for his quota of TC water on the road. His name was Ramesh and I told him that if I served him the coconut would be Rs 20 and if Thamaraikanni served him the price would be Rs 15. Thamaraikanni smiled and cut him a coconut, he seemed to be a regular at her store. Ramesh gave us detailed directions to take to get to our intermediate destination for which I was thankful, as he pointed out bad roads and other characteristics on the road that we were to take.
Getting into the car I told Ramesh to watch out as Thamaraikanni would sell him many coocnuts as she had to us. We had drunk so much that we had urinated so much as to have caused a flood. Thamaraikanni had the last laugh when she said "yes! it was so much that the village down the road has been washed away in the flood"
I would have enjoyed spending a little more time in that Coconut Woman's shop but we needed to move on.
April - 2011
 |
| Tharaikanni the Coconut Woman |
Further down we stopped at another roadside TC water pile. When I say pile, Yes a pile because all these micro outlets pile the coconuts along the road to attract vehicles. this particular pile of coconuts was like a magnet, the owner had chosen a great location, shady, lots of space, no other human in sight, broad road, seemed very nice. Just to make sure that the sun did not get to her the Coconut Woman had arranged coconut palms above on the branches of the tree this ensured complete shade. She had also under the shade a folding steel chair to sit on when there were no customers. She did have hundreds of coconuts for company a huge pile and behind her were many hundred shells of coconuts which she had sold the shell she would sell to people who would extract the fibre for rope and the shell could be used for making activated carbon.These hundreds of coconut shells also demonstrated how successful she was. I told myself that location matters, true and how much more does "service".
This small roadside coconut woman had set up shop in a village called "Vellai Kall" (White Stone), there were no white stones around but only red earth, no houses in sight, nor any sign of a village closeby but just a long ribbon of black on which vehicles were moving at high speed many of them not even turning to look at her outlet, the occupants busy talking to each other or in thought hurrying to get to their destination.
We had one coconut each and then asked for more, all of us opted for coconuts which had a lot of flesh rather than water, she explained that if there was flesh there would be little water but the water would be sweet, but if one wanted more water than there will not be much flesh and the water may not be as sweet. A lesson for an urban born.
Thamaraikanni (Lotus Woman) was a typical South Indian villager, heavily oiled and long hair, plaited tight with not a single hair out of place in spite of the mild breeze, a mouthful of betel leaves, arcenut and tobacco colouring her mouth deep red.A large nose stud and wearing a thali pointing out that she was married.
When we asked for another helping I noticed the way she cut the coconut, she skillfully held it in her left hand and holding the heavy knife in her right she deftly chopped away huge chunks of the coconut to reveal the top of the shell which she cracked with her knife and then chopped off to reveal the flesh of the coconut. She would then scoop out the exposed flesh and then the it was ready. One could either use a straw (city slicker) or take the coconut to the mouth and drink the water by tilting the nut upwards like it should be done. A coconut would weigh about 2 Kgs each and this on one hand and the heave knife which would weigh another 1.5 Kgs on the other meant that not only was she strong but would be capable of taking care of herself. One has to watch a coconut being cut to be able to appreciate the skill required to carry out this seemingly simple task. I would have chopped my hand off if I had tried to cut one.
After our first helping Thamaraikanni slowly warmed up to the conversation, she explained to us about coconuts, how to choose the right one for our needs, which has more water which more flesh, when the water would be sweet and so on. She told us about her village "Vellaikalu" and in between when she found the conversation funny she would laugh and when she laughed she would show a mouth which was deep red. Her husband was elsewhere working and she was supplementing the family income with this little shop of hers. She was initially guarded in her speech and when she realised that I was just joking around and gathering information because of my curiosity her guard went down and she opened up. She came up with a few repartees which pointed to a certain intelligence a way of talking which was more than common. When I asked her "Evvalavu thenga oru nalukku vippe?" (How many coconuts will you sell a day?) she spread her hands out and said Evvalavu (this much). Then she exclaimed that if you had asked me "Ethana thenga?" then I would have given you number of cocnuts I would sell. According to her Evvalavu meant mass and ethane meant numbers. I did not know this and all my life have been using these two words interchangeably. In fact I wanted her to be right,I felt that I had met a woman form a village who had risen far above her origin and would continue to do so
because of her pleasing personality, patience, hard work, graciousness, simplicity and skills.
Preparing to leave we paid her, her dues and then a truck came along and stopped at her shop. The lone driver got down and sauntered in for his quota of TC water on the road. His name was Ramesh and I told him that if I served him the coconut would be Rs 20 and if Thamaraikanni served him the price would be Rs 15. Thamaraikanni smiled and cut him a coconut, he seemed to be a regular at her store. Ramesh gave us detailed directions to take to get to our intermediate destination for which I was thankful, as he pointed out bad roads and other characteristics on the road that we were to take.
 |
| Thamaraikanni serving Ramesh the truck driver |
Getting into the car I told Ramesh to watch out as Thamaraikanni would sell him many coocnuts as she had to us. We had drunk so much that we had urinated so much as to have caused a flood. Thamaraikanni had the last laugh when she said "yes! it was so much that the village down the road has been washed away in the flood"
I would have enjoyed spending a little more time in that Coconut Woman's shop but we needed to move on.
April - 2011
