Monu’s World: Communist Pachcha

It was the summer of 1989. Monu was ten years old. Her school had closed for the summer break. As is wont with the summer vacations, Monu’s father had got train tickets booked months in advance for their trip to Kerala. Since her father was a government employee, Monu’s dad got free train tickets once in two years under the Leave Travel Allowance (LTA) policy.

Going to Kerala was much anticipated by Monu’s parents as they longed to visit their native place and see all their near and dear ones. For Monu, the trip meant a brief sojourn in God’s Own Country, which translated to a whirlwind time of journeying up and down the length of Ernakulam and Thrissur districts. More often than not, the trip would involve getting bang in the middle of the unruly South-Western Monsoons. Still, Monu did not mind because she looked forward to meeting her grandparents and all her cousins.

So, Monu set off with her family from New Delhi railway station on the Kerala Express bound for Thiruvananthapuram. The train journey meant spending three rather long days amidst the heat and dust, not to mention the stinking toilets of the Indian Railways. Monu managed to pass the time looking out of the windows, reading books, and managing to play with any children who happened to be around within the confined space of the second-class compartment of the train. The route the Kerala Express took was right down the middle of the Indian sub-continent. It meant traversing some very arid and dusty terrain only made worse by the completely barren landscape of Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, parts of Maharashtra, and the erstwhile Andhra Pradesh. These were the times when the ‘Waterman of India’, Rajendra Singh, had not risen to popularity. His magic was still in the making. Hence, central India was very much like a desert.

In stark contrast was the south of India, specifically after the train crossed the mighty Krishna River. In the searing month of May, when most of India reels under severe summer heat, the south is no exception. The heat is made only worse by the high humidity levels in south India, specifically the coastal regions. However, the only saving grace is the presence of greenery which provides a measure of comfort to the eye. This is instrumental too in lowering the temperatures and rarely does the mercury go as high as that of northern India. There is also the absence of the loo winds that sweep across northern India during the summer months. The greenery has to do with the presence of more water bodies like rivers, lakes, streams ponds, etc. in the south of India than in the north.

So, south of the Krishna, all was quite greener than the northern climes. Incidentally, Monu would wait with eagerness to catch a glimpse of all the main rivers that the Kerala Express crossed. There was the Narmada and Tapi in Madhya Pradesh, the Godavari in Maharashtra, the Krishna of course in Andhra Pradesh, and the Kaveri in Karnataka. Apart from these, numerous small and not-so-big rivers spanned the northern, central, and southern territories of India. While many of the rivers would be crossed during the night time, Monu felt exhilarated whenever the train approached a river during the day time.

And so, after a long and hot three-day trip when a rather tired and dirty-looking Monu, having that distinctive smell of the Indian Railways, reached her maternal grandfather’s home in Thrissur, she would heave a sigh of relief. Thrissur is a coastal district in Kerala and in keeping with the climate which is hot and humid in May, Monu would perspire profusely. The change of landing from the hot and dry climate of Delhi into the insane humidity of Kerala, Monu would find the weather stifling and irksome. However, she would soon forget all the discomfort of the weather once she got to play with her cousins and watch all the latest Malayalam movies on VCR. Then, there were the numerous pet and domestic animals that her grandparents had all around the house. There were her youngest uncle’s pigeons and dogs, her grandmother’s hens, cows, and goats, and the many cats who roamed freely within and outside the house. Monu loved all the animals, but her absolute favorite was a brown cow named Meenakshi. Monu would take Meenakshi out to graze and would bring her water and feed her whenever she could. She especially loved the small white mark on Meenakshi’s forehead. There was also a small general store owned by her grandpa where her youngest uncle, grandpa, and grandma all helped with the running of the store.

Monu was fond of her grandparents and cousins, but she was especially close with her granny. Her granny was beautiful, elegant, and loving and showered Monu with lovely goodies once Monu came for the summer break. Monu loved watching her granny prepare fish, vegetables, snacks, and other delicacies. For Monu, whatever her granny prepared was delicious, and she loved the typical Keralite spread her granny cooked up whenever she visited.

Monu’s grandpa was a rather formidable-looking man. Bald with white hair on the perimeter of his bald pate, he could be stern when he wanted to without speaking a harsh word. He commanded respect wherever he went and the whole household gave in to his wishes without a protest. Like Monu’s father, her grandpa was clean-shaven too. Monu liked that in men. She felt it made them seem kinder and a whole lot better when they smiled than say, from men who had a beard and moustache.

One day, Monu was playing with her cousins in front of the house. There was an iron gate in front because the house was near the main road, and all kinds of vehicles - big and small - plied on the road. That day, the gate was open. One moment, Monu was running near the road, and the next she found herself lying flat on the ground. As her cousin shouted out to her, she saw her grandpa run out of the store calling out to her. Gingerly, Monu sat up and tried to stand. She felt sharp shooting pains in her left leg. Looking down, she saw that her knee had been hurt. She remembered tripping over something trivial - a small rock or tree branch maybe - and falling over face down. The ground next to the road was sand as her grandpa’s place was close to a riverbed. Monu had fallen in such a way that her abdomen and face landed on the sand while her legs hit the tarred road. The skin on her knee was abraded and blood was starting to ooze forth from the wound. Monu fought hard against the tears that threatened to flood her eyes and pour forth. She managed to hold the tears back but not for long. As she heard her grandpa call her name and saw him running toward her, a small howl burst forth from her. Her cousin was standing next to her and trying to help her to get up. The next thing she saw was a pair of very large steady hands cushioning her back and wiping away her tears. Her grandpa was standing next to her and his soothing voice calmed her down. He asked her gently if she was okay. She nodded in affirmation.

Monu’s grandpa helped her to her feet and telling her cousin to get her some water to drink, slowly led her away from the road and inside the gates. He made her sit on the steps of the verandah and left. He soon came back with some water to wash her wound and some clean cloth to dry the area. Afterward, he asked her to drink the water that her cousin had brought. No sooner had Monu finished drinking from the glassful of water than she saw her grandpa hurrying towards her carrying a few leaves in his hand. He explained that the leaves were from a plant called ‘Communist Pachcha’. He crushed the leaves and applied them on her grazed knee. Her grandpa explained that the leaves would stop the blood flow and would act to heal her wound. Monu wondered at the green crushed mashup on her knee and prayed that the wonder plant would work its magic so that she could start playing again soon.

Here, is a little ‘gyan’ on this mysterious but ubiquitous plant called ‘Communist Pachcha’. This plant is an Ayurvedic medicinal plant used to treat wounds, burns, and skin infections. Known in English as Siam Weed or Chromolaena Odorata, this shrub is a fast-growing invasive species that was accidentally introduced to Kerala in the 1950s. It is called ‘Communist Pachcha’ in Malayalam because it was likened to the quick spread of Communism in Kerala around the same time, that is, 1950s when the Communist party came to power in the first elections held in Kerala’s state assembly in 1957.

And as her grandpa said, this plant does indeed have healing properties as Monu found out soon enough. Within a couple of days, she was on her feet and running about and all that remained of the wound on her knee was a scar that she would proudly show off to her friends and cousins as something that was magically healed by the wondrous plant called ‘Communist Pachcha’.