Alex Haley's Roots is a fictional version of his origins. This black American author traced his origins to slaves brought in from Gambia in Africa and his story of a Gambian teenager captured by white slave traders and brought to America created a sensation when it was published in the
mid-1970s, more so when he linked this teenage protagonist to himself as his direct ancestor.
My search for my roots has been much more mundane, though my origins have almost equal scope for drama. I belong to a community in Kerala called Palakkad Iyers - our ancestors are Shaivite Brahmins who, for various reasons migrated from Thanjavur district in Tamil Nadu, towards the eastern coast of India to Palakkad in Kerala almost 400 km away. A noted journalist, M K Das, wrote a book on this migration called the Saga of Kalpathy and with his research, established that there were at least three waves of migration, the earliest being as long ago as nine centuries back. The most common reason for my ancestors to uproot themselves and move coasts was to take employment as priests in temples, largely on the invitation of the local Rajas or chieftains in Palakkad.
These priests not only moved themselves but brought in their families too. One admires their intrepidity in taking this huge risk of moving about four hundred kilometers in bullock carts or on foot through inimical kingdoms, unknown geography and attendant dangers of wild animals and illness. They came to Palakkad largely because there is a natural gap in the Western Ghat mountains and the local chieftains welcomed them. They seem to have been very pragmatic people. They maintained good relations with the locals - even today, members of the community are regarded well in Kerala. While retaining their culture, they assimilated elements of the local language and cuisine into theirs. Till today, we have a distinct dialect of Tamil - the grammar and syntax is essentially Tamil with the proportion of Malayalam words each family uses varying with the number of years they have stayed in Kerala. Our cuisine is also unique and incorporates elements of both Tamil Nadu and Kerala food craft.
My ancestors settled in a small picturesque village called Allampallam, about 25 km away from today's Palakkad town. While our family does not really know how many generations ago my ancestors traversed the breadth of peninsular India or even why they settled in this village specifically, we do know that around the turn of the previous century, my paternal grandfather, being a lawyer, moved from here to Thrissur in central Kerala, roughly a hundred kilometers away. Thrissur was part of the Kochi maharaja's territory and at the earlier part of last century, was its capital too. My grandfather joined the administration of the law courts and became one of its senior officials - a 'shirestidar'. In fact, because of this, we were known as shirestidar Ramayyer's family.
We didn't develop roots in Thrissur either - in the mid-1960s, after both my grandparents had passed on, my father and his brothers sold the Thrissur family house, since none of them was planning to settle down there. This made us particularly rootless and especially, at the beginning of my career. when I myself was moving around a lot, whenever anybody asked me which my home town was, I would quip that it was the town where I had my home at the moment! My father and I did settle down in Chennai in the late 1980s and as he grew older, my father wanted to visit Allampallam once - but somehow, we couldn't do so, then.
After I retired in 2016, one of the first things I planned was to cross this off my bucket list. The Internet helped in giving information of the location and distance from the nearest big town, Palakkad. Almost by serendipity, I came in touch with one of my previous students who had married into a family from this place and her father-in-law was a source of a lot of information. Later I managed to touch base with another student whose family belonged to this place. Armed with all this information, I finally managed to visit Allampallam in February 2018. The 25 km road from Palakkad to the village had some splendid sights with the Western Ghat range of mountains always visible on one side. In fact the village is nestled in the laps of these hills as the first photograph below shows.
The whole village at best, would cover one square km in area - that is all. It is bounded on the South by a small rivulet and two of the main roads are dominated by temples at the eastern end. Row houses run along these roads in the old 'agraharam' design. At the Northern end of the village, there is one more temple and that is pretty much it. Even on foot, it would probably take just about an hour or so to go around the place.
For me this village has a totally different personal significance. Since my grandfather left this place more than a century ago, there is not much of a realistic chance of locating the old family residence. However, walking on the same roads where my grandfather, his father and their ancestors moved around and praying at the temples they prayed is an indescribable feeling. It is my way of bowing my head to them and revering their role in my existence - it is my way of telling them " Thatha, you many not know me, but I am here!"
This is why I went there again last week and why I will go there at least once a year as long as I am able to do so.
Some photographs taken on the two visits to give a graphical description of the place:
The Ganapathy temple
mid-1970s, more so when he linked this teenage protagonist to himself as his direct ancestor.
My search for my roots has been much more mundane, though my origins have almost equal scope for drama. I belong to a community in Kerala called Palakkad Iyers - our ancestors are Shaivite Brahmins who, for various reasons migrated from Thanjavur district in Tamil Nadu, towards the eastern coast of India to Palakkad in Kerala almost 400 km away. A noted journalist, M K Das, wrote a book on this migration called the Saga of Kalpathy and with his research, established that there were at least three waves of migration, the earliest being as long ago as nine centuries back. The most common reason for my ancestors to uproot themselves and move coasts was to take employment as priests in temples, largely on the invitation of the local Rajas or chieftains in Palakkad.
These priests not only moved themselves but brought in their families too. One admires their intrepidity in taking this huge risk of moving about four hundred kilometers in bullock carts or on foot through inimical kingdoms, unknown geography and attendant dangers of wild animals and illness. They came to Palakkad largely because there is a natural gap in the Western Ghat mountains and the local chieftains welcomed them. They seem to have been very pragmatic people. They maintained good relations with the locals - even today, members of the community are regarded well in Kerala. While retaining their culture, they assimilated elements of the local language and cuisine into theirs. Till today, we have a distinct dialect of Tamil - the grammar and syntax is essentially Tamil with the proportion of Malayalam words each family uses varying with the number of years they have stayed in Kerala. Our cuisine is also unique and incorporates elements of both Tamil Nadu and Kerala food craft.
My ancestors settled in a small picturesque village called Allampallam, about 25 km away from today's Palakkad town. While our family does not really know how many generations ago my ancestors traversed the breadth of peninsular India or even why they settled in this village specifically, we do know that around the turn of the previous century, my paternal grandfather, being a lawyer, moved from here to Thrissur in central Kerala, roughly a hundred kilometers away. Thrissur was part of the Kochi maharaja's territory and at the earlier part of last century, was its capital too. My grandfather joined the administration of the law courts and became one of its senior officials - a 'shirestidar'. In fact, because of this, we were known as shirestidar Ramayyer's family.
We didn't develop roots in Thrissur either - in the mid-1960s, after both my grandparents had passed on, my father and his brothers sold the Thrissur family house, since none of them was planning to settle down there. This made us particularly rootless and especially, at the beginning of my career. when I myself was moving around a lot, whenever anybody asked me which my home town was, I would quip that it was the town where I had my home at the moment! My father and I did settle down in Chennai in the late 1980s and as he grew older, my father wanted to visit Allampallam once - but somehow, we couldn't do so, then.
After I retired in 2016, one of the first things I planned was to cross this off my bucket list. The Internet helped in giving information of the location and distance from the nearest big town, Palakkad. Almost by serendipity, I came in touch with one of my previous students who had married into a family from this place and her father-in-law was a source of a lot of information. Later I managed to touch base with another student whose family belonged to this place. Armed with all this information, I finally managed to visit Allampallam in February 2018. The 25 km road from Palakkad to the village had some splendid sights with the Western Ghat range of mountains always visible on one side. In fact the village is nestled in the laps of these hills as the first photograph below shows.
The whole village at best, would cover one square km in area - that is all. It is bounded on the South by a small rivulet and two of the main roads are dominated by temples at the eastern end. Row houses run along these roads in the old 'agraharam' design. At the Northern end of the village, there is one more temple and that is pretty much it. Even on foot, it would probably take just about an hour or so to go around the place.
For me this village has a totally different personal significance. Since my grandfather left this place more than a century ago, there is not much of a realistic chance of locating the old family residence. However, walking on the same roads where my grandfather, his father and their ancestors moved around and praying at the temples they prayed is an indescribable feeling. It is my way of bowing my head to them and revering their role in my existence - it is my way of telling them " Thatha, you many not know me, but I am here!"
This is why I went there again last week and why I will go there at least once a year as long as I am able to do so.
Some photographs taken on the two visits to give a graphical description of the place:
The Western Ghats - as seen from the village
The agraharam leading to the Ganapathy temple
The courtyard of the Sivan temple
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