There is an article in today’s The Hindu, regarding bamboo and vettiver curtains. The article, particularly the photograph, took me back to the early 90’s.
When I took up my first job in the early 90’s I walked past the corner of T.T.K. Road, where these curtains were (are) woven, every day - the junction of Sriman Sreenivasa Road and T.T.K. Road. An old man and his wife were seen busy weaving bamboo curtains. The man was very tall, dark and very weak. He had difficulty in walking. His fingers and toes were stiff and little deformed probably due to arthritis, but he was always active, either slicing bamboo or weaving. The old lady was fair and weak too, but was very supportive. They spoke the Madras dialect of Telugu. The footpath was completely occupied by them. Close to the compound wall in that corner, was a makeshift bench, with bricks and a slab that was wide enough to sit and probably five feet long. I always felt sad for that old couple who had to work so hard in that age. On a few occasions, a middle aged man, as tall as the old man and as fair as the old lady, probably their son and his wife were seen with the old couple, arguing, fighting and thrashing them.
After a few months, the old man became too old to work and probably was also sick. It was raining on and off and there was no work for them. Still, the old man lied on the makeshift platform, day and night, rain or shine, with a tarpaulin tied above. The old lady brought food from home every day and left after he had eaten, leaving him alone. I wondered why no other family member stayed with him and why the old man was not taken home. Probably their house was small to accommodate him or probably, they didn’t want to lose this prime corner or the old man was adamant about it. Whatever be the reason, the scene was very pathetic. The old man was very tall and his legs were stretched beyond the platform. The tarpaulin too didn’t provide adequate protection. When none of his family members were around, the old man begged. I felt very sad that a skilled artisan had to do this. I always gave him money. At times I gave him snacks. Every Friday, I gave him the banana that was distributed in my office after the pooja. My salary was just 800 rupees those days. Though I had sympathy for the old man, I couldn’t do anything more. During a weekend at the end of the monsoon, the old man died. Immediately, the tarpaulin was removed; his old clothes thrown away and the place cleared and his son who was never seen working and only fighting with his parents started working very cheerfully in the same spot.
Witnessing the old age, sickness, poverty, loneliness, helplessness and finally the death from a close-up affected me a lot. Every time I passed through that spot, I felt very depressed. I thought I should do something for the homeless and the less privileged. Even after two decades, I am still thinking.
Even today, whenever I think of aging, loneliness or death, I think of that old man. This article has brought back his memory and the associated pain.
P.S. Link of the article
http://www.thehindu.com/society/bamboo-and-vetiver-curtains-come-to-the-rescue-of-chennaites-to-beat-the-summer-heat/article17556949.ece
