Where technology rules our lives from the moment we rise, till the moment we call it a day, there are some places pure and pristine where Nature is the sole and most dependable companion of humans. Technology is used just as an alternative than a need. There are stories of real warriors and unsung heroes in these untouched and unheard pockets of paradise.
In the deep jungles in one of the remote areas in north Kerala, you will see the beauty of nature reflected through the people residing there. I was lucky enough to get to spend a day in the village, located on a hill adjacent to the dam. The trail up the hill was not easy yet Seema made it very enjoyable. She had a tempo traveler with her husband like a pro in driving uphill, so I was not to worry at all. I had met Seema in one of the camps that were set a few years back to help those affected by the floods and I was part of the relief team. Our friendship continued and as they say, there is no caste, creed, or age to make friends, we kept in touch. They had just a few mobile phones back then so landline was the dependable source.
Seema, a 28-year-old, mother of two, is one of her kind, I can say. Her story of grit always gives me goose pimples. She hailed from a tribal community where money was always scarce yet always sufficient to feed every member of a family. She was the only girl in the family and her elder brother was a special child. She was determined to study and through some grants, she was able to get the basic education that would help her get some clerical job in the village panchayat. She was always vocal about women’s rights and now she was all set to start a new venture, as an entrepreneur, as a dealer of spices. This was a phenomenal feat and that too for a woman. She wanted me to help her with setting it up online. My time with her changed my perception of life in a tribal setup.
Seema had a very interesting routine. She woke up as early as 3 am when the rest of the world is in deep slumber. She would go to the pond nearby, all alone, to take a bath, and once back, she would complete her prayer rituals and even meditate in the open garden of her house. She was brave, I told her, she said, when we treat Nature as our mother, we are always protected. She then completed her kitchen chores, leaving tiny things to be done by her mother. Also, she was to take care of her brother, since her father was away at work, so once he woke up, her husband bathed him and helped him with the basic cleanliness regime. She then helped feed her brother. After which , she cleaned the house and washed the utensils by the well just next to her kitchen. She never got tired fetching some 20-plus bucket full of water. This was equal to hitting straight for a workout at a gym, which we do in the city. Her children, aged 10 and 5 years, were best-taken care of by her mother. She wore a simple sari and a red bindi in the middle of her eyebrows, hair neatly tied up in a bun and a few black glass bangles adorned her wrists. She would stand out tall and confident compared to any other woman in a corporate suit and loathed with make-up. His husband dropped us at their paddy field as she had to check on the daily attendance and attend to any concerns of the workers. There were some 5-6 tribal men and women there, all above her age for sure. She was a likable person for sure and they treated her as their daughter and with gratitude that she was helping them earn a living.
People in the tribal areas take up any job that comes by so here, Seema would ensure that these set of people were always with a job. In the afternoon some of them could be seen in the small factory nearby where the spices were packaged to be sent to the retailers in the city. She was always on the go, sparing no time to rest, except for the 15 minutes during lunchtime. She would teach others in the most humble way treating all with respect and also maintaining her dignity. I helped her with solutions and contacts for her business and it was great understanding the process there. The spices, some raw and others powdered were from the forests surrounding the village. I even got a chance to see how the men collected the spices in their respective forms, from the deep jungle. From pepper to cinnamon barks to cardamom, the aroma of these spices filled the air. No wonder the village was more famous for the pure air than our pollution-jaded atmosphere back in the suburbs.
I was fascinated by the simplicity of the food that was prepared with a royal flavor of the spices. My breakfast comprised of idli and sambar and a health drink made of different millets. The lunch was grand with vegetables, curries, and the brown rice that was all cooked on a brick stove and not gas. Everything was so delicious and she had prepared these many varieties, all by herself. She was very kind to say that it gives immense pleasure to have someone home because they are regarded as God, in their custom, and to be treated with love always. Seema never complained of anything as such, she was a solution finder rather. Her family was very amicable and soft-spoken.
As I took leave and she came all the way to see me off, in her vehicle, her husband stayed back to take care of all at home. Seema knew to drive the mini-truck, piercing through the dark road, fearlessly like a warrior princess.
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