#SoCS Sept. 24, 2022

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “home.” Use it as a noun, a verb, an adjective, or an adverb. Enjoy!

I am reading two fascinating books about the past. One is The Ivory Throne: Chronicles of the House of Travancore by Manu S Pillai and the other is To The Letter-A celebration of the Lost Art of letter Writing by Simon Garfield. That made me look through my grandfather’s memoirs. I have written in another post that I am amazed by his memory. This morning I was listening to a lecture on The Geeta by Bannanje Govindacharya. He said once people started writing, they increasingly lost their memory power.

Anyway, even after seventy years my grandfather wrote in detail about his home in a village called Polya. When he was small, his grandparents, three sons and their families lived in one house. All the household work was done by the women. There was a courtyard in front of the house. To the left was the well. Water was drawn from the well for cooking and drinking. On the right side of the house was the bathroom. In those days the bathroom and toilet were not built inside the house. Just outside the courtyard was a small pond. Its water was used for washing clothes and for bathing. Water was heated using firewood, the husk of dry areca and dry sticks from the areca garden. The fronds of the areca trees were used to cover the roofs of the house, bathroom and cowshed. The roofing was changed every year as there were no tiled roofs. Most of the things people used in those days were either home-made or grown in their gardens or fields.

My grandparents and family. My father is the small boy 🙂

My grandfather remembered that when they returned home from school, he and his cousins spread sand or rice dust on the floor and drew in it the letters of the alphabet or numbers. Life went on in the small village. Due to certain circumstances the family lost their home and lands. The elders in the family made new lives for themselves in different places. My grandfather never went home again. Some years ago, my elder brother and my father went to see the place where my grandfather had lived. The house was still there. The owners were happy to show the place to my father.

My grandfather completed BA Honours in Mathematics and English in 1920 and worked as a teacher in different schools. In May1925, he was in Madikeri with my grandmother when he saw an advertisement in the newspaper. A headmaster was needed for the Municipal High School in Hosapete. That town was about 400 kms away, a long way away in those days. He asked his friend’s advice and applied for the post. He was asked to join in June 1925. In those days people rarely moved far from their homes in their villages. But my grandparents took the decision to leave their familiar surroundings. They made their home in Hosapete.

In 1979 my father went to Nigeria for three years. The Indian railways sent a large contingent there on deputation. Due to this my parents were able to save enough money to purchase a house and some land in Puttur in 1980. This town is not far from the home where my grandfather had spent his childhood. So, it was back to the roots. But my grandfather passed away before he could see this home.



By Lakshmi Bhat

I am a person who believes there is not enough darkness in the world to extinguish the light of a small candle. We live in a small place in South India. I love reading, blogging, stitching, traveling, photography, listening to people and many other things which make life so very nice and interesting. Blogging is a fun experience, it has brought me into contact with people in different parts of the world and it is good to read about their everyday life. In spite of the differences there is a sameness which is fascinating. I have learnt and am learning something everyday. I have learnt to write haikus. I enjoy combining the thought and the number of syllables. I have always read books and I was happy to write short fiction. I had thought I would not be able to do so. Stream of Consciousness and photo challenges are fun too. Yes, there is so much in life that is sad and that hurts us. Many a time I wonder why life is so unfair to so many. We all have problems in life but the problems of many seems unbearable. This makes me feel so helpless. It is not possible to help everyone but we can do our bit, we can do something to help some in whatever way we can. Due to the pandemic I could not go to the Home for the mentally challenged for two years. I had been going there since 2011. I have started going again. I was happy that some members remembered me :) All of them are an important part of my life. There have been many challenges in life and we have faced them with a positive approach. Our grandson and granddaughter have made our lives richer.


  1. How fortunate you are to know so much about those who came before you. I don’t know anything about my family. They were either killed or driven from their homes because of antisemitism.
    Make sure you pass the knowledge on. Cheers, Muriel

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Those family stories must seem a very long time ago. My Grandad was just back from the First World War and he struggled for money for at least ten years. Then his wife knocked a big hole in the front of the house and transformed it into a little shop, and with the money they made, things began to improve.

    Liked by 1 person

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