A Bridge to Somewhere

View From Ottapalam

View from Mayannur

In an earlier post I had mentioned about the new bridge across Bharata Puzha (River Nila to poets and environmentalists).  This brought me great many memories of the times when there was no bridge to Mayannur.  Though separated by the river into two districts; rather two states, before the formation of the integrated state of Kerala, this natural boundary never separated the people on the two sides. There was a symbiotic relationship between the two villages of Ottapalam and Mayannur. Ottapalam depended on Mayannur for its daily supply of vegetables, milk and workmen while Mayannur depended on Ottapalam for higher education, medical facilities, travel and wholesale groceries. The ‘aadhan pradhaan’ continued uninterruptedly with the help of country boats even when the river swelled.  Now with the new bridge, there will be more traffic of men and materials.

Mayannur was part of Travancore Cochin which merged with Malabar to form ‘Aikya Keralam’ in 1957.  It was ruled by the Cochin Maharaja pre-independence. Ottapalam, in the district of Malabar was part of the then Madras state. Culturally and linguistically the two villages could not be separated. But the geography in the form of the river separated the two villages which came to be administered by two political entities. Though this separation inconvenienced the locals it offered criminals from both sides a lot of leeway. It was a practice for offenders to escape into the other state to get away from the long arm of the State. This was a big head ache for the police force of the two states and continues even now in a milder form.

This bridge is not the only bridge across the river Nila.  I can count at least 4 others, the one in Lakkidi, one in Shoranur (Kochi Palam), one in Pattambi and the latest in Chamravattom in a few days from now. As I write this the local MLA has announced one more to come within a few kilo meters off the Ottapalam Bridge.  Ottapalam literally means Single Bridge in Malayalam but this seems to be an anachronism.  And an oxymoron too, as Ottapalam town is bordered by two small creeks with bridges across.

Bridges have spawned many a book universally. They are not just physical but symbolic of human bondage and the desire to transcend their limitations. Some of these stories have been filmed. Most notable is the David Lean film ‘The bridge on the river Kwai’.  The other books are “A bridge too far” and Richard Bach’s “The Bridge across forever”.  Closer home we have the KG George directed ‘Panchavadipalam’, a spoof on the petty village politics. The story ends in the tragic death of the character played by Sreenivasan when the new bridge collapses on its inaugural day!

Not so for the Ottapalam Bridge. It had a grand inaugural but not without minor controversies.  The only casualty of the Bridge seems to be the boatman who used to make a small kill during the five/six months of rainy season. He should have seen the writing on the wall but hoped it was ‘a bridge too far’. But it is reality now, after many years of waiting. The schools and colleges have a good number of students who use the boat service and now they can make it to Ottapalam without the worry of getting themselves and their books wet during monsoon. The boatman would be cursing his fate though he is not an innocent victim of progress.

I particularly remember one incident in which I had a small role to play. I had some official work in Mayannur while I was working in Thrissur.  After the work I thought I could visit my in-laws in Ottapalam. So I disposed off the car and used the boat service to cross over. I was carrying some important documents (loan revival papers) obtained after much efforts. There were a few youngsters on the boat and as is their wont started making some comments about the rowing. Mid way through the river the boatman stopped the boat. “Who among you is unhappy with my rowing? Will he please come forward and teach me?”…asked the boatman.  I immediately sensed danger, though not to my life, but to the papers I was carrying. A hush descended in the boat and along with it, the belligerence of the boatman. I would have kept quite and allowed the situation to evolve, which is my normal style. But here I could not do that and soon stepped in to douse the small spark with all my persuasive skills and with a liberal appreciation of the selfless   good work of the boatman.  Fortunately, the noisy boys also kept quiet and my task was made easy. An embarrassing situation was averted. Descendant of Guhan or Charon? None of those for our man!