Glimpses of India

The elders in Goa are nostalgic about the good old Portuguese days and their famous loaves of bread. They fondly remember the makers of bread (the bakers) who are still present, though the eaters (Portuguese) have left.

The baker is called a ‘pader’ in Goa. He would visit the house twice a day: once in the morning when he set out on his selling round, and then again after emptying his huge basket.

Yes, bread-making is still very popular. The author mentions that the mixers, moulders, and those who bake the loaves are still there. The age-old, time-tested furnaces still exist, and the traditional sound of the baker’s bamboo (thud and jingle) can still be heard in many places.

• (i) Portuguese days: They wore a peculiar dress known as the kabai. It was a single-piece long frock reaching down to the knees.
• (ii) Author’s childhood: They wore a shirt and trousers which were shorter than full-length ones and longer than half pants.

Coorg (or Kodagu) is the smallest district of Karnataka, located midway between Mysore and the coastal town of Mangalore. The main crop of Coorg is coffee.

There are two theories:

• Greek Origin: A part of Alexander’s army moved south and settled there when return became impossible. They married locals, and their martial traditions are seen today.
• Arab Origin: The Kupia (long black coat with an embroidered waist-belt) worn by Kodavus resembles the Kuffia worn by Arabs and Kurds.

The people of Coorg are fiercely independent. They are the only people in India permitted to carry firearms without a license. The Coorg Regiment is one of the most decorated in the Indian Army, and the first Chief of the Indian Army, General Cariappa, was a Coorgi.

• Chinese Legend: A Chinese emperor always boiled water before drinking. One day, a few leaves from twigs burning under the pot fell into the water, giving it a delicious flavor. These were tea leaves.
• Indian Legend: Bodhidharma, an ancient Buddhist ascetic, cut off his eyelids because he felt sleepy during meditations. Ten tea plants grew out of the eyelids. The leaves of these plants, when put in hot water and drunk, banished sleep.

Rajvir was mesmerized by the view. It was a sea of tea bushes stretching as far as the eye could see. Against the backdrop of densely wooded hills, dwarf tea plants stood, and amidst them moved doll-like figures (tea pluckers). It was a “green, green everywhere” view.

The trees are currently inside the poet’s house. They are trying to move out into the forest.

• Roots: Work all night to disengage themselves from the cracks in the veranda floor.
• Leaves: Strain towards the glass.
• Small twigs: Stiff with exertion.
• Long boughs: Cramped under the roof, trying to get out.

The poet compares the cramped branches shuffling under the roof to newly discharged patients moving half-dazed to the hospital doors. This simile highlights their desperate struggle to be free and return to their natural habitat (the forest).

When the trees move out, the glass breaks. The winds rush to meet the trees. The moon is broken like a mirror, and its pieces flash in the crown of the tallest oak tree. The house becomes silent, and the smell of leaves and lichen fades away.