Alleppey Chronicles: Navigating the Dynamic Journey of the Pais’-1

Jyothi Ramesh Pai
6 min readJan 4, 2024

Early Days in Alleppey

Although this is my father’s biography, its roots can be traced back many decades before his birth. My ancestors were Saraswat Brahmins, a Hindu Brahmin community in India known as Konkani Brahmins who hailed from the Konkan coast region of Western and South India that was once located along the banks of the Saraswati River. They migrated from Goa after the Portuguese arrived in Goa in the early 16th century. With an unknown language, the only occupation that suited them was trade. They tried to fit into the new environment but still preserved their heritage. They identified market needs, established networks, and contributed to the town’s growth and prosperity.

My paternal grandfather Achuta Pai lived in Mullakkal, a locality in Alleppey many decades back. He was a well-known grocer in the area, tall and handsome. He married a pretty young girl named Karuna and life became even more exciting. Achutha would run the shop while Karuna managed the home. The afternoon meals were made special by Karuna, who served a variety of delicacies. During her pregnancy, she had a strong desire to eat well and would often go the extra mile to make her meals special. Karuna also felt weak often and she had her friend Lakshmi Ammal, a Konkani friend who would comb her hair and take care of her chores. The surnames of Ammal and Bai were commonly used with the girl names in the Konkani community as it brought them closer to Malayali communities who also used these names. It also gave them a sense of security and belonging. Karuna and Lakshmi Ammal developed a strong bond, Karuna was forever grateful for Lakshmi Ammal’s help and affection.

Karuna would often tell Lakshmi, ‘ If something happens to me, please take care of my family. In earlier times, the number of doctors was limited, and therefore midwives played a crucial role in assisting mothers during childbirth. They would not only provide care during labour but also offer aftercare and advice on childcare.

Karuna was filled with anticipation, at the young age of fifteen, she was surprised to learn that she was carrying twins. Unfortunately, the delivery became complicated, and Karuna lost her life as a result. Achuta was left feeling lost and alone, a common feeling during the pre-independence era when scientific knowledge was still in its infancy. Despite the tragedy, the experience served as a valuable lesson in realising that Scientific knowledge was essential.

Achuta’s parents saw his grief and loneliness and arranged his marriage with Lakshmi Ammal who was willing as she had promised her friend Karuna that she would take good care of the family. Lakshmi was referred to as Dinda affectionately, everyone younger than she called her Dindakka. She was neither tall nor very fair, but she was mentally and physically strong. After Lakshmi got married to Achutha, she took over the household chores smoothly.

The Pai household was a spacious and beautiful home built in the traditional Kerala style. It was formerly known as Puthen Mathom, which means “new home”. The old house has faded from memory, but the new one was made of strong bricks and had a sloping roof that kept the inside cool and cosy. The house had a warm and welcoming feeling that told stories of tradition and timelessness.

Inside, there was a long hallway that led to smaller rooms like bedrooms and living rooms. Bathrooms were placed at the back of the house to ensure privacy. The kitchen was the heart of the house, always cooking with firewood. The flames cast a warm glow and the smell of spices and sizzling food made every meal special. The kitchen was located behind the hallway but opened up to the same side of the house where family and friends gathered to enjoy meals and create happy memories.

The house had a very interesting room called the labour room, which was situated at the far end of the house. This room was specifically designed for women who were about to give birth. Midwives and other women would stay there with the expectant mothers and provide them with comfort during the most important and transformative time of their lives. The labour room was located next to a room called the ash room, where the leftover ashes and debris from the kitchen’s cooking activities were stored.

Laxmi, also known as Dindakka, adapted herself to life with Achutha. She was a practical and disciplined lady and was always punctual. Despite facing 15 deliveries, she gave birth to 16 children. Unfortunately, during one of her deliveries, she gave birth to twins who did not survive. Dindakka’s family was extremely supportive. Her siblings and mother were always there to help her. When she went into labour, she would go to the far end of the room where her mother and a midwife would assist her. Before her birth, the room at the far end of the premises would be prepared with hot water, clothes, and surgical devices to cut the umbilical cord. After a few deliveries, she became so familiar with the process that she would close herself in the labour room and give birth to the child independently with her mother’s help. She would even cut the umbilical cord and disentangle the baby from her body. As soon as she felt better, she would resume her household chores. It was truly fascinating to see how she did not feel weak despite all of this.

In those days, having a large family was common, but unfortunately, the mortality rate was high. Out of 16 children, only eight survived to reach their teenage years. Dindakka did not feel weak physically but emotionally the death of a child drained her. She learned to accept the losses, but the pain never left her. She was a strong woman who persevered through the tragedies of life. She was determined to make sure her children had a better life than she did. Her eldest child was a daughter, she named her Kamlavathi. It was a solace to have her. She named the next-born eldest Nagendra, the next two who who survived were Damodara and Ramdasa. It seemed as if she was determined to create a legacy that would last for generations to come if they were named after the Gods. The next was my father who wasn’t christened with a God’s name but was named Sarvothama, which meant the one who possessed excellence. He was fair tall and handsome looking just like his name. All the children were the pinkish-fair kind. The next delivered baby wasn’t a pleasant surprise because it was found that the girl had congenital abnormalities. It pained her the most but she wasn’t the one who believed in brooding over the problems. She named the baby girl Janaki which meant that she was bestowed to marry the lord and called her lovingly Jainni.

In addition to Jainni, there was a daughter named Nirmala and a son named Sudhakar, the most intelligent and attractive of the siblings. Nirmala was known for her gentle and kind nature and her elegance, while Sudhakar was known for his sharp wit and quick thinking. Dindakka was growing older with each delivery. She was a strong mother and despite the difficulties she never gave up on her dream of a happy family.

Dindakka was not educated but was blessed with an inborn intelligence of entrepreneurship. She domesticated cows and chicks in the yard. She had a helper man named Mallamaamu and a lady named Ellikunju who would help her milch the cows and sell them to the people in the community. With time, they domesticated the chicks. The chicks would roam about freely in Puthen Mathom. “The livestock brought in a lot of money and kept her occupied.

When Achutha would come over for lunch, he would jokingly ask, “Dinda, you’re making a lot of money. Won’t you share it with me?”

Dindakka would nod vehemently and say, “I won’t. That’s hard-earned.”

Dindakka managed to raise her children well. They were quick learners, but Achutha wanted them to help him in his trade. Achutha and Dinda both shared a love for music, and all the children enjoyed it too. Sometimes in the evenings, Achutha and Dinda would listen to music together, and the children would join in, singing, dancing, and enjoying each other’s company.

Would life remain as rosy as this forever? Will the kids take over the grocery business of Pai and Sons? Keep reading to learn what lies beyond the rosy horizon-

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Jyothi Ramesh Pai

Research Scholar at the University of Pune, write inspiring narratives on http://www.synsthes.blogspot.com named Enthralling Trails