Paskaria, fondly called Pakku, was our servant for a pretty long period. She was an elderly lady with jet black hair, a long face with a beak- like nose and squint eyes. She had wrinkled skin with warts - big and small all over her face. Her mouth was out of proportion. She had a wide mouth tilted to her left side. Her lower lip protruded out and tilted to the right side. In all she looked more like a witch rather than a human being and little kids were scared of her. She was slightly eccentric. She would talk to herself, laugh unnecessarily to herself. But one was never to ask her age as she was 50years old for over 10 years!!!
Pakku was mainly employed for outside work. As our courtyard was quite big and had full of trees, it had to be swept daily. This was the main work of Pakku. Another work that she had was to pound rice daily. Even that was a difficult job. Raw rice had to be washed and soaked in water for at least four to five hours before it was pounded. On a pounding stone she would use a wooden pole with metal base on both sides. Pakku performed the task dexterously. She would then heat the rice powder and keep stirring until the fragrance spread all over the house.
Pakku was never allowed into the dining area. Though she entered the kitchen, she was not allowed to cook. I think she knew how to cook but somehow she was never allowed to do so. At times she could be seen peeling onions for the cook. The main reason was that she was very unhygienic. She had to be forced to bathe. Her clothes were always dirty. Though she washed her clothes it was were always stained and never looked clean. She always wore the old clothes that her daughter gave her. All the new clothes that we gave her went to her daughter. She had the habit of sleeping with a broom [used to remind me of the witches with broomsticks]
Our Pakku had the habit of flicking things. She would take all the things that her daughter needed. It could be washing powder or soap, or rice or things of daily needs. But she never took anything costly with her. Once I lost a gold chain. I had put it in my skirt’s pocket not realizing that there was a hole in it. I had lost hopes of finding it. The next day Pakku came with the chain and said it was lying with the onions. I felt so grateful to her. It was then I realized that she took things because of abject poverty. She just didn’t want to see her daughter and grand children starve.
Pakku was an unmarried mother (grandmother too). Her daughter was an illegitimate child of Pakku’s brother-in-law. It is heard that the brother-in-aw had many illegitimate children from many women. Pakku adored the father of her child. She held him in high esteem since he was a soldier in the Indian Army. It was a general saying that soldiers, policemen and drivers had wives wherever they worked. So true to the old saying this man lived. When asked about this man Pakku would blush and evade all questions. At times she would just smile.
Pakku was a fifth standard dropout. She used to keep reciting the poems that she had learnt in school (from her Malayala Padavaali). She knew a little bit of English but the words she understood were all wrong. She had the habit of eavesdropping and would reply to our conversation. At times she would laugh unnecessarily at our English conversations.
One incident that keeps coming to my mind is her laughing at our conversation. At lunch time we were discussing about kidney. We heard her burst out laughing. When asked why she was laughing she said,
“Eniku ariyam kidney entha enu.” [I know what a kidney is]
When asked her she started blushing. We knew she had something else in mind. We kept asking her. She came with the most absurd answer. According to her a kidney was where babies were made. We laughed our hearts out that day. Even when we tried to make her understand she couldn’t agree. She thought we were teasing her. Poor soul!!!
She was a very loving lady and she liked children very much. But most of the kids in the family were scared of her witch-like looks. Mothers would tell their children that those who misbehaved were Pakku’s children. My daughter got along with Pakku well. She would go and sit on Pakku’s lap and listen to her stories when she was a very little girl.
She left our house when she became too old. Still she could be seen going for mass, talking and giggling to herself. Once I met her and she told me that she a twig had hit her eye and she was blinded. Then I heard she was bed ridden. She died due to old age four years back. I still miss her giggles, her ‘interpretations’ to English words and her pounded rice powder. May Pakku’s soul rest in peace.
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