Now, I entered the third room. It had a nice carpet laid out and two or three pillows to lean against. Three or four men with splendid nāmas on their forehead, dressed in exquisite dhotis were seated on the carpet, helping themselves to some tāmbūla, engaging in boisterous chit-chat. I said, “Pūjè…” One of them replied, “Got over. Didn’t it?” It got done, just now!” I walked back, feeling foolish.
The meḻa musicians played their instruments at their designated time. The bugler sounded his kahaḻè at a time designated to him. The drummer beat the nagāri at a time of his convenience. The svāmī performed the pūjā as per his convenience. All of them exercised their individual freedom.
I narrated this to my grandfather. His response was, “Why had you been there? Couldn’t you have told me at least before leaving?”
******
The third occupant of Sonnegowda’s home—whom I happened to know—was Amaldar Mokshagundam Venkatesayya. He had a large family and was an egoistic man. Therefore, he was in need of such a big house.
Sonnegowda’s Family
In a separate chapter, I have elaborated about my memory of Mokshagundam Venkatesayya. He had placed his confidence in me and I benefited from it.
Now, I will revert to Sonnegowda.
It is perhaps more appropriate to call his home in Sonnawadi a fortress rather than calling it a house. He stayed in all the houses within the ‘fort’ by taking turns. A house in the center. A row of houses surrounding it. A third row of houses surrounding the second one. Then, a fourth set of houses. Each of these individual houses had its own, separate family. I have heard that Sonnegowda had four wives. Each one had their own street. Each of them had sons and daughters. They similarly also had sons-in-law and daughters-in laws. Each family had its own set of cows, buffaloes, calves, hens, and even sheep—I have personally seen all these in his Sonnawadi ‘fort’ when I was a boy. Back then, I had questioned my elders with a sense of astonishment. I have written down what they told me.
Dhātrī-havana
On the day of the dhātrī-havana feast at Sonnawadi, we were all up before dawn and reached the lake overlooking the village by about seven in the morning. As we kept walking, covering the distance by foot, we were never cognizant of the cold weather. We were in need of water. The lake was filled with elegant, ethereal water. We washed our faces and bathed in the cool waters. We wore fresh clothes and walked to a farm that was within twenty yards by walk. When I look back, I feel that it was a beautiful farm. It may be called a plantain forest. Similar was the case with the coconut plantation. There were mango plants here and there. In between were beds of marigold flowers and shrubs of jasmine—all these types of plants looked like they were uncultivated and natural to the place.There was no structure or order like we usually see in places like Lal Bagh. Any land that was left uncovered by the plants was inevitably used as a walkway. Yet it was all clean and cool all over.
It was the time of the year for avarekāyi (hyacinth beans). A heap of it was lying in one corner and plantain shoots on the other side. A few schoolmasters, śānubhogas [village accountants], and some Vaidikas— all of whom were there for the feast—were peeling hyacinth beans in preparation for lunch. A few others like them stood before a line of stoves, busy with the cooking. Sonnegowda supplied the hyacinth beans, plantain leaves, rice, and lentils. Among the supplies, I would like to specially elaborate on one item, which is known as ‘ghee.’ Given that it has become a rare commodity for the people of present times, I shall add an extra word about it. This ingredient known as ghee arrived in clay pots. Five or six pots filled with ghee. Each pot contained smooth, inviscid ghee of turmeric-saffron color. Its texture was highly sandy. The connoisseurs of our town, who saw children like us dipping our fingers into ghee, uttered the following words in Telugu, which was natural to them: “Awful! This fellow dips his finger in ājyam and smells it! [“Ayyayyā—ī aivāru ājyaṃlo yelupèṭṭè mūśicūstāḍe!”]” This was their path of humour. We did not know that ‘ājyam’ meant ghee. We assumed that they were talking about some filthy substance! While testing ghee, a tiny bit of it was picked using a thin stick made of coconut leaves and spread thin on the left index finger to smell it and judge whether it was made with pure cow’s milk—if it was of good quality or not. The ghee supplied by Sonnegowda was the best of the best in class. It is indicative of the profusion of cows during those days. And there was no practice of selling such commodities to the stores. A lot of farmers considered selling ghee to be a lowly activity. In this manner, abundant food made its way to brāhmaṇas.
bhojanaṃ dehi rājendra
ghṛtasūpasamanvitam।
māhiṣaṃ ca śaraccandra
candrikādhavaḻaṃ dadhi॥[A charming verse, which is a request to the king to grant good food to the supplicant, cited in the Bhojaprabandha.]
Isn’t it only so much that most poets including Kālidāsa prayed for? Their prayers had borne fruit!
Prosperity
We indeed partook of the food of devaloka [the heavens] the day we went as Sonnegowda’s guests. Curry made from hyacinth beans with its skin peeled, plentiful ghee, avarekāyi sāmbār, bitter gourd gòjju, āmbòḍè, vermicelli kheer, curd that was solid enough to be cut with a knife, fryums, and palya—truly, is anything else required for fine dining?
During the time, that part of the State didn’t have modern vegetables such as potato, cauliflower, and beans. We usually had plenty of lemons along with our food. And green chilies, too.
With cheerful banter and multiple servings of each item, all of us ate till our stomachs could hold
no more. We headed back by about five in the evening when it was cooler.
Let such benevolent and unartificial people like Sonnegowda, who comforted us to contentment, prosper eternally in our land!
sve sve karmaṇyabhirataḥ
saṃsiddhiṃ labhate naraḥ।
This is the second and final part of the English translation of the ninth article of D V Gundappa’s Jnapakachitrashaale – Vol. 7 – Hrudaya Sampannaru. Edited by Raghavendra G S.
