by Indi Khanna
Please welcome Indi Khanna, who joins us with this entertaining account of his days as a newbie on the High Ranges in Munnar, Kerala .
In 1975 at a young 22 almost straight out of University, I found myself up on Panniar Estate (High Ranges) having been despatched there by the Malayalam Plantations Agents in Cochin. Born and with my entire formative years having been in Simla where the only agricultural produce was apples, planting as a career had never ever crossed my mind. Providence and a long story (for another day) of how I found myself down south. Having been sent for an extension interview to a rubber estate near Trishur (Mooply), the first Tea bush I ever really saw and touched was when I arrived at Panniar, never for a moment realising that this innocuous plant is what my entire life would revolve around so that 45 years later that love affair continues. And thankfully so!
The next morning, on my first day at work, my P.D*. Mr Abid Khan who over the two years I worked under him became a father figure for me, told me that for the first three/four months I was not to be given a motorcycle and that I should walk the estate with the conductor, following which words I was duly 'handed over' to Mr Balia. A most imposing figure replete with a pith helmet and a swagger stick, Mr Balia (never just Balia) could WALK! And so over the next four months after a very crisp 'good morning sah' and a tipping of the pith helmet, we walked and we walked and we walked and then we walked some more covering as much of the 320 hectares as we could.
Panniar being a good one and a half hour drive from Munnar and the High Range Club, I was totally dependent upon Abid and Shamim, who very kindly, every time they headed that way, would take me along for the evening. On other days, end of day, Abid would come past the muster on his bike and ask me (this was an almost daily ritual), 'what are you doing this evening?' Bereft of any kind of transport there was not much that I could do and so evening after evening, straight from the muster, we'd head up to Abid's bungalow where the three of us would play badminton till it got dark, after which it was Scrabble while listening to BBC plays on Abid's transistor.
Abid being a rather infrequent drinker, while a drink was offered to me every now and then, Shamim always made sure that I never went back to my bungalow hungry. We followed this lovely 'habit' for all of four months till, having worn away three pairs of 'Bata Hunter shoes' (all that was available back then) trudging along behind Mr Balia, I was finally made mobile with my Bullet.
About three months into this routine in the Club, two of my senior colleagues from Surianalle Estate (the other Malalayalm's Estate in the High Ranges) casually asked me that in the absence of a bike, what was it that I did in the evenings. Sharing my routine with them, Raghu and Appu asked me when I was planning to reciprocate and have Abid and Shamim over for a meal. Which casual remark led to my getting down to buying a dinner set, courtesy the Company's soft furnishing allowance and our Group Doctor who was heading down to Cochin for a weekend. Finally the proud owner of a spanking new Hitkari dinner set adorned with tiny pink flowers, when Abid came past my morning muster it was my turn to ask 'Are you and Ma'am busy this evening?' and so my first grand dinner party.
While waiting for Shamim and Abid, I was thumbing through my weekly supply of newspapers when I felt a 'presence'....
Arranged for our local Kadai** to get me a bottle of brandy from Munnar and had my cook/bearer/gardener/man friday - Kaliappan - buy a chicken from the labour lines: the menu for the grand dinner being chicken curry, a vegetable, daal and rice, which incidentally, was the extent of Kaliappan's culinary skills. The arrangements having been made, I headed off for the 'Mr Balia march' of the day. Walking back from my evening muster, just below my bungalow, I kept hearing a strange repetitive sound of 'baak, baak, bakka…..' which appeared to be emanating from under the bushes.
Peering down through the bush frames I saw my friend Kaliappan sitting on his haunches with a palm full of rice and intently 'baaking'. Having been unceremoniously hauled out from under the bushes he very sheepishly and with all 32 teeth being flashed at me, informed me that just as he was about to knock off its head, our pièce de résistance had managed to wiggle out of his clutches and had disappeared through the pantry back door.
To say that I was upset would be an understatement. With no money to buy another chicken and with it being unlikely in any case that Kaliappan would be able to muster up a replacement late in the evening, I had to resign myself to that first dinner being a simple and fairly inedible veggie affair.
Crestfallen and having showered, waiting for Shamim and Abid, I was thumbing through my weekly supply of newspapers when I felt a 'presence'. Peering over the top of my newspaper I saw our dinner, likely drawn in by the bungalow light, very proudly strutting across the red oxide floor. In a stage whisper I called out to Kaliappan, who, peeping out from the dining room and seeing the fellow, was out like a flash of lightning and had grabbed him by his neck. Should anyone have seen that film, in his deft movement and sheer speed, Kaliappan was the embodiment of the Bushman in 'The Gods must be crazy'.
The next thing I heard was a squawk and by the time Shammim, Abid and I had done with our chit-chat, the poor escapee was in my new Hitkari serving dish on the centre of the dining table swimming in a curry!
*P.D. - Peria Durai, a Tamil term meaning 'Big Boss', like 'Burra Saab' in North India.
** Kadai - Tamil, a shop
Meet the writer:
With an industry experience and a tea knowledge base of four and a half decades and counting, I literally live and breathe tea.
Starting my career in 1975 as an Assistant Superintendent with Malayalam Plantations Ltd, rolling up my sleeves by 'dirtying' my hands at the grassroots level and having literally 'grown' in the business, my experiences have matured me into a ‘one of a kind’ unique entity in the industry.
My journey which literally starts from the tea nursery and stretches all the way up to the consumer shelf, is in many ways unique. Regularly roaming the tea world, delving into the most remote areas wherever tea is grown or consumed, constantly interacting with Tea folk, I have always been learning and innovating. The invaluable experiences along this very interesting route have culminated into a unique new venture, a one-of-a-kind specialty tea manufacturing facility unit in the Nilgiris - www.teastudio.info.
My life has been and continues to be blessed.
Thankfully this very interesting Tea journey continues as an ongoing learning experience.
Is this your first visit here? Welcome to Indian Chai Stories!
You will meet many storytellers here at Indian Chai Stories, and they are almost all from the world of tea gardens: planters, memsaabs, baby and baba log. Each of our contributors has a really good story to tell - don't lose any time before you start reading them!
Do you have a chai story of your own to share? Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com. My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true (always), maybe a tall tale, long, or short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. You will find yourself transported to another world!
Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea!
ADD THIS LINK TO YOUR FAVOURITES : https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/Indian Chai Stories
Please welcome Indi Khanna, who joins us with this entertaining account of his days as a newbie on the High Ranges in Munnar, Kerala .
 |
| Panniar: Trekking up to Ervikulum (all pix by the author) |
The next morning, on my first day at work, my P.D*. Mr Abid Khan who over the two years I worked under him became a father figure for me, told me that for the first three/four months I was not to be given a motorcycle and that I should walk the estate with the conductor, following which words I was duly 'handed over' to Mr Balia. A most imposing figure replete with a pith helmet and a swagger stick, Mr Balia (never just Balia) could WALK! And so over the next four months after a very crisp 'good morning sah' and a tipping of the pith helmet, we walked and we walked and we walked and then we walked some more covering as much of the 320 hectares as we could.
Panniar being a good one and a half hour drive from Munnar and the High Range Club, I was totally dependent upon Abid and Shamim, who very kindly, every time they headed that way, would take me along for the evening. On other days, end of day, Abid would come past the muster on his bike and ask me (this was an almost daily ritual), 'what are you doing this evening?' Bereft of any kind of transport there was not much that I could do and so evening after evening, straight from the muster, we'd head up to Abid's bungalow where the three of us would play badminton till it got dark, after which it was Scrabble while listening to BBC plays on Abid's transistor.
Abid being a rather infrequent drinker, while a drink was offered to me every now and then, Shamim always made sure that I never went back to my bungalow hungry. We followed this lovely 'habit' for all of four months till, having worn away three pairs of 'Bata Hunter shoes' (all that was available back then) trudging along behind Mr Balia, I was finally made mobile with my Bullet.
 |
| Panniar: My first bike |
While waiting for Shamim and Abid, I was thumbing through my weekly supply of newspapers when I felt a 'presence'....
Arranged for our local Kadai** to get me a bottle of brandy from Munnar and had my cook/bearer/gardener/man friday - Kaliappan - buy a chicken from the labour lines: the menu for the grand dinner being chicken curry, a vegetable, daal and rice, which incidentally, was the extent of Kaliappan's culinary skills. The arrangements having been made, I headed off for the 'Mr Balia march' of the day. Walking back from my evening muster, just below my bungalow, I kept hearing a strange repetitive sound of 'baak, baak, bakka…..' which appeared to be emanating from under the bushes.
Peering down through the bush frames I saw my friend Kaliappan sitting on his haunches with a palm full of rice and intently 'baaking'. Having been unceremoniously hauled out from under the bushes he very sheepishly and with all 32 teeth being flashed at me, informed me that just as he was about to knock off its head, our pièce de résistance had managed to wiggle out of his clutches and had disappeared through the pantry back door.
To say that I was upset would be an understatement. With no money to buy another chicken and with it being unlikely in any case that Kaliappan would be able to muster up a replacement late in the evening, I had to resign myself to that first dinner being a simple and fairly inedible veggie affair.
Crestfallen and having showered, waiting for Shamim and Abid, I was thumbing through my weekly supply of newspapers when I felt a 'presence'. Peering over the top of my newspaper I saw our dinner, likely drawn in by the bungalow light, very proudly strutting across the red oxide floor. In a stage whisper I called out to Kaliappan, who, peeping out from the dining room and seeing the fellow, was out like a flash of lightning and had grabbed him by his neck. Should anyone have seen that film, in his deft movement and sheer speed, Kaliappan was the embodiment of the Bushman in 'The Gods must be crazy'.
The next thing I heard was a squawk and by the time Shammim, Abid and I had done with our chit-chat, the poor escapee was in my new Hitkari serving dish on the centre of the dining table swimming in a curry!
*P.D. - Peria Durai, a Tamil term meaning 'Big Boss', like 'Burra Saab' in North India.
** Kadai - Tamil, a shop
Meet the writer:
 |
| Indi Khanna with Xerox |
Starting my career in 1975 as an Assistant Superintendent with Malayalam Plantations Ltd, rolling up my sleeves by 'dirtying' my hands at the grassroots level and having literally 'grown' in the business, my experiences have matured me into a ‘one of a kind’ unique entity in the industry.
My journey which literally starts from the tea nursery and stretches all the way up to the consumer shelf, is in many ways unique. Regularly roaming the tea world, delving into the most remote areas wherever tea is grown or consumed, constantly interacting with Tea folk, I have always been learning and innovating. The invaluable experiences along this very interesting route have culminated into a unique new venture, a one-of-a-kind specialty tea manufacturing facility unit in the Nilgiris - www.teastudio.info.
My life has been and continues to be blessed.
Thankfully this very interesting Tea journey continues as an ongoing learning experience.
Is this your first visit here? Welcome to Indian Chai Stories!
You will meet many storytellers here at Indian Chai Stories, and they are almost all from the world of tea gardens: planters, memsaabs, baby and baba log. Each of our contributors has a really good story to tell - don't lose any time before you start reading them!
Do you have a chai story of your own to share? Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com. My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true (always), maybe a tall tale, long, or short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. You will find yourself transported to another world!
Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea!
ADD THIS LINK TO YOUR FAVOURITES : https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/Indian Chai Stories
Enjoyed reading every bit of the article.My husband is working as a Deputy Manager in Lockhart Estate,Harrison Malaylam limited.Panniar is therefore our neighboiring garden.Beautiful place!
ReplyDeleteWonderful story very well related. It does so exemplify our lives in 'tea' whether south or north. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThoroughly enjoyable reading. Please keep writing!
ReplyDeleteFabulous story, very well told. I love the chicken story most of all. Abid and Shameem were good friends of mine (also Hyderabadis) and their son Taimur was a colleague in Anamallais where he was with Tata Tea and I was with CWS (later Parry Agro). Such were the good days. Long may they be remembered.
ReplyDeleteWonderful tale, wonderfully written too Indi.
ReplyDeleteHope to read more about your experiences in tea. Mr. Balia seemed straight out of Dickens and I actually felt sorry for the chicken that came home!
ReplyDeleteHi Indi - long time no speak! Great article. Denys Shortt
ReplyDeleteVery enjoyable reading. Hope your stay in south was equally enjoyable. Raja Ramakrishnan
ReplyDeleteChuckled my way through this very deja vu treatise! More, please!
ReplyDeleteWell done indi written beautifully keep writing more stories about your experience s in tea
ReplyDelete