Dwyer, Dyer and Nair

And the aftermath of the Jalianwalla Bagh massacre

If one person had to be picked as a main cause for the British Empire’s collapse in India, that would be none other than the irascible Col Dyer. Strange is fact that he is popularly known as General Dyer, when he was nothing more than a Colonel (he held a temporary Brigadier Gen rank though) and was a person born and bred in India (spending only 12 years of his early life abroad), not England. Reginald Edward Harry Dyer will always be listed in the history of the peoples of the world as the butcher of Amritsar, never as the savior of Punjab as the so called enlightened lot in the blighty felt in those days. But then again in the large scheme of things, one will also recall that he reported to Michael O'Dwyer, the governor general of Punjab. And after the story unfolded, one person took up the cudgels to wage a legal battle against O'Dwyer, fighting it in the lion’s den, i.e. the hallowed British courts. He was doomed to fail and that person was none other than our esteemed Chettur Sankaran Nair. Let us try and figure out the curious entanglement that these three characters from India’s history, got into and in the course of retelling that story, get a little deeper into their lives.

Most Malayalees visit the Gururvayoor temple every year, and as usual, I could not miss noticing the 30’ tall Deepasthambham (tower lamp) at its entrance, donated by Sankaran Nair. To condense his life into a few paras is tough, to say the least, but I will make an attempt to be concise, for after all, we have to know a man to understand his actions. We shall continue on to do the same with the other two villains before they all converge to a fateful day and later flare out in separation, to a conclusion.

How Dyer found his way into the British Indian army is itself a curiosity, for he had originally joined up to study and become a surgeon. Perhaps that would have been better in posterity, but then again, he must have decided to go with his mother’s wishes, since his father would have wanted him to become a brewer and look after their many breweries in the hills. The Dyer family had started with the EIC as early as the 1820’s and spent most of their lives in India. They had certainly done well in business and Reginald or Rex as he was called at home was the 6^th and youngest of Edward’s and Mary Passmore’s (Mini) sons. Their lives traversed Simla, Solan in the hills and locales such as Muree in the Punjab. The large family was brought up under Mini’s iron rule and Rex was born in 1864, a few years after the mutiny of 1857 which had drawn taut lines between the natives and the ruling British moving the administrative powers from the EIC to the British crown.

Col Reginald Dyer

Dyer was fluent in Hindustani and was brought up like a pukka sahib of India, learning hunting, riding and all those things the upper crest British had time to partake in. It is said that he hated hunting after seeing a monkey he had shot suffer. He studied at the Bishop Cotton School in Shimla, and was motoring on, quite happy in India when his father for some inexplicable reason decided to send him and his brother Walter, not to England, but to Ireland in 1875 for continuing studies at the Middleton College. Life proved tough and the two brothers who landed up like bumpkins wearing sola topis and kukris, were bullied by the local boys. Reggi or Rags as he was then known, settled down quickly with his brother, though in the midst of a virtual civil war in Ireland. Both brothers later joined the medical college and Rex took up boxing to excel at it, though hating dissection. Eventually he appeared for the army entrance examination, passing it with high marks on the second attempt (falling ill the day before the initial attempt). All records show that Rex had a tough time in England, never fitting into the formalities required for the life there and missing India. 

He was continuously faulted for his inability to pronounce words with the right accent and being unfocussed. After graduating from the RMC Sandhurst in 1885, he joined the Queen’s corps and was deputed to Burma to fight in the 3^rd Burma war, after a stint in Belfast. Perhaps he picked up the methods of employing extra force from his C in C Gen Roberts who commanded the forces. His return from Rangoon to India on a steamer, resulted in his involvement in a mysterious fist fight which left a number of Burmese battered by this powerful boxer. Dyer stated that it was in support of one of the Burmese who was being picked on by the others, and indicated a good amount of pent up anger and frustration in the man. The case which followed, was referred to military headquarters. Dyer went back home at long last and his father helped him write a proper report about the event after which the whole file got quashed. But it was a pointer to things to come. Dyer’s rise continued but he ended up getting estranged from his family, especially his mother who was a somewhat haughty upper class type of person, when he chose to get married to his commanding officer’s daughter Annie Ommaney in 1889. Annie and Dyer were to remain steadfast partners till the very end of his life. He was in that way quite different, quite complex perhaps, sticking out like a sore thumb in British parties, but a great supporter of equality, once even resigning from a club which refused entry to a native officer. By 1915, he had become a colonel and the next year an acting Brigadier general.

Events and days were moving rapidly against the British, the native population was becoming restive, so were the small numbers of British ruling the masses. It was clear that a large scale uprising would happen sometime, and the officers could only imagine what could happen to them when the natives in massive numbers rebelled. A whole lot of them noted in their memoirs of this gnawing fear coursing through their veins, making them irritable, restless and at times, terrified. All they needed to look at were the days in Kanpur and the Sepoy mutiny when their lot were strung up or crucified, and women violated. For them it was difficult to accept that their superior race would have to face such an eventuality. And they spent years after year living through that nerve jangling period, thinking about it, Rex Dyer included.

Chettur Sankaran Nair on the other hand, was born in 1857, the year of the mutiny or one of the first wars of Independence. He belonged to Mankara in Palghat and his ancestors had been through difficult times, having to flee the marauding Mysore armies of Tipu Sultan. The event always crossed the minds of succeeding generations, and colored his feelings against the methods used on the sometimes rebellious Moplahs of Malabar. Much later he was to confirm it by professing tough action against them in 1921 and totally disagreeing with the INC support for Khilafat. His father was a Tehsildar and his uncles also worked in administrative positions of British local governance. In fact his father Ramunny Panikkar was initially a clerk working for H V Conolly at Calicut, before becoming a Tehsildar. Nair lived a structured and charmed life, rising rapidly through the system to positions never held by another Indian. 

When he was appointed as advocate general, the British made it clear that he was the ablest man the British can ever find in all of India. After a brilliant career in law, he rose to the advocate general position, he became the INC president, later authoring the Malabar marriage act thereby bringing an end to Marumakkathayam or the matrilineal society of Malabar, even though he himself was the karanavar or titular head of his Chettur thrawad. He presided as one of the Judges on the much talked about Ashe murder case, became a member of the Viceroys council and had no qualms writing occasional notes of dissent against British policy, which you may be surprised to note, the British had to accept due to the soundness of his legal and practical arguments. On a lighter note, he was one of those rare persons the caustic tonged VK Krishna Menon admired and respected. As a statesman, he found fault with what was wrong, and did not differentiate with either the British or Gandhi, and his book Gandhi and Anarchy, detailing his qualms against Gandhian methods of non-cooperation and support for Khilafat was to prove an end to his relationship with the Congress and scuttle further presence in the upper echelons of a soon to-be independent India. But he was a patriot to boot and a brilliant lawyer, a person on whom a few books have been written, which I perused but cannot be reproduced in brief here.

Sankaran Nair studied initially at Angadipuram and Cannanore, before graduating from the

Provincial school in Calicut. In 1876, he moved to Presidency College Madras, to start his higher educations, just as Dyer was starting his studies in Ireland. The next step was the law college and by 1879 he was a full-fledged lawyer traversing the court halls of British Madras. Under Justice Holloway’s mentorship and patronage, he became a high court Vakil, contemporary to the great Subramania Iyer and Bashyam Iynegar, the lone Nair amongst lawyers comprised entirely of Brahmins. It was in 1884 that Nair concluded the Malabar marriage act, a very complex undertaking with huge repercussions, and something I will write about another day. Incidentally he was also together with Logan as a member of the Malabar Land tenure committee. The Madras law journal was started by him together with Ramaswamy mudaliar.

He presided over the INC meeting in Madras in 1887 and was an active congressman becoming its president soon after. Between 1900 and 1921, he was mainly a political worker, sporadically working in the courts. But by then, he had moved to his well-known Palms Bungalow on Poonamalee road, and his group of lawyers were known as the Egmore clique. Bashyam and Mani Iyer headed the Mylapore clique whereas Ramarao and Parthasarathy formed the Triplicane clique. These three constituted what was informally known as the three inns of the Madras court! He also found time to join the Madras artillery corps. Sankaran Nair was to make a name finding fault with the commonly accepted practice of ICS governance and the preference for upper castes, particularly Brahmins in administration. He writes quite a bit about this in his autobiography, as to how the early North Indian congress councils were full of chaste Brahmins who would always drift off to eat sitting apart from people of lower castes, during meetings.

There is so much more in the story of Sanakaran Nair, but I guess now Is not the time for such matters, for it is time to go to the Punjab, a province which was annexed by the EIC only in April 1849 after the second Anglo Sikh war. Incidentally did you know that until the third decade of the 20^th century, if one had to go from Madras to Delhi by train, they had to transit Calcutta? This GT express originally started running in 1929 between Peshawar and Mangalore and took about 104 hours, one of the longest train routes. The route was later altered to connect Lahore to Mettupalayam, which was the alighting point to reach Ooty. Anyway, we were talking about Punjab, where by 1907 one could witness a lot of unrest. Large numbers of people were unhappy with the colonization bill and Land alienation act since land could be appropriated by the British if a person had no heirs after death and later the British could sell it to anybody else. Lala Lajpat Rai led the revolts against these moves, and was successful in getting the colonization bill repealed. The world war followed with a number of Punjabis fighting for the British, but gaining nothing. A large number died in an influenza pandemic which followed.

In March 1919, the Anarchical and Revolutionary Crimes Act or the Rowlatt Act of 1919 was passed which extended emergency measures of indefinite detention and incarceration without trial in response to the perceived threats of terrorism from revolutionary nationalist organizations. Incidentally this had been in force (Defense of India act) since the world war, and was just being extended. This unpopular legislation provided for stricter control of the press, arrests without warrant, indefinite detention without trial, and juryless ‘in camera’ trials for proscribed political acts. The accused were denied the right to know the accusers and the evidence used in the trial. In effect it was a situation with 'No Dalil, No Vakil, No Appeal’ i.e., no pleas, no lawyer, no Appeal. People rose in protest, Gandhi leading it with Satyagraha movements. Hartals followed, proving to be successful. In Punjab it was a critical issue for there were many protest movements brewing up. As a preventive measure arrests of two popular leaders Satyapal and Saifuddin Kitchlew were ordered in April 1919 by O’Dwyer the governor general of Punjab. This was to start a series of actions resulting in the involvement of Dyer and a terrible massacre of many innocent people. But before we get there, who is this O’Dwyer? Many people in India are still confused between O’Dwyer and Dyer. They are different people, with the latter - a military man reporting to the former an administrator. Let’s take a look at that man and his life in India.

O'Dwyer

Michael Francis O'Dwyer was the Lieutenant Governor of the Punjab from 1912 until 1919. An Irishman, one of 14 children from a rural family, was born around the same time as Dyer, in 1864. By 1882 he had passed the ICS entrance exams and in 1884 was posted as AC of Shahpur in Punjab. Following a relatively quiet period where he mastered some languages, he went on get appointed to the Punjab–North West Frontier boundary commission. During this posting he had additional responsibility as political resident of the notoriously violent NWFP.  By 1908 he had moved to Hyderabad as acting resident and it was in 1913 that he succeeded Sir Louis Dane as lieutenant-governor of the Punjab. It was to become his last posting in India, during a period when he proved to be totally against organizations such as the INC. 

As you would see, his period of governance also overlapped the world war, an event which was detrimental to many of his actions. As a zealous recruiter, he organized for many a Punjabi to join the war effort. But some of the early returnees were to spell doom for him, such as those who were behind the Ghadar movement which professed an end to British rule in Punjab. The defense act allowed him to stifle the early Ghadaris and he went on to recruit even more Punjabi soldiers, over half a million of them for the rest of the war. But it appears that Punjab was like a boiling caldron politically, and having its lid closed. An explosion was imminent. O'Dwyer was determined that he was not going to lose control in a repeat of the Sepoy mutiny of 1857. He had concerns about German and Bolshevik agents inciting a rebellion in the province, but he was convinced that the real danger came from Indian nationalists, whose protests were becoming more vocal and violent. Dwyer announced to the Lahore council that ‘a day of reckoning is in store for them’. He was also concerned that the revolt was imminent, especially as this was a time when British troops typically withdrew to the hills for the summer.

Hearing about a protest Satyagraha in the offing, Dwyer had decided to act. Gandhi had been detained and prevented from entering Punjab and Satyapal and Kitchlew had been arrested and moved to Dharmasala. On 10^th April 1919, crowds gathered at a bridge leading into the Civil Lines where the British commissioner was quartered, demanding a release of the two leaders. Unable to hold the crowd back, the military picket panicked and began firing, killing several protesters. The shooting of protesters resulted in a mob acting in revenge. As it transpired, a British electrician, two railway workers and three British bank employees were beaten to death. 

Later, one Miss Marcella Sherwood, who supervised the Mission Day School for Girls was assaulted by the mob in a narrow street called the Kucha Kurrichhan on the 11^th. Sherwood was rescued by locals and moved to the Gobindgarh fort. Railway lines were destroyed, telegraphic posts and lines cut, and government buildings burnt as the mayhem continued. Retaliatory shooting at crowds from the military several times during the days resulted in some eight to twenty deaths. As Amritsar burned, a train bound for Peshawar containing Gurkhas armed only with Kukris unexpectedly rolled in. 50 of them were quickly issued .303 rifles from the fort. Later another train with and Baluchi and English reinforcements came in. Tragically these Baluchis and Gurkhas were to serve a big part in what transpire next. It was into this messy situation that Col Dyer was moved to from Jalandhar, in order to decisively take over control of the situation.

Although he arrived in Jalandhar as a temporary Brigade General of the 45^th Infantry Brigade, he was not to know what monstrosity in store for him a later. He was leading a peaceful life, wife in tow, and in fact he proved to be adept at fancy dress fooling some officers into first thinking he was a German officer and later as a Baluch officer. It was during this period that he resigned from the Jalandhar club as it would not grant admittance to a native officer, in protest. Back in Jalandhar, Dyer and Annie were quietly dining but some hours earlier they had received a message of the events and commotion in Amritsar, from Lahore. He had sent all available troops already to Amritsar. It was a very hot summer in Punjab and it was only the next afternoon that Dyer decided to motor down to Amritsar and take personal charge of the situation there, accompanied by Briggs and Southey.  Dyer had another reason to delay actions, he was actually suffering from arteriosclerosis (thus being more deliberate before moving quickly) and this added to his already short temper, when in pain. Reaching at night, he was briefed on the attack and about Miss Sherwood’s distress.

Dyer toured the city, empowered the police superintendent and moved to the railway station to ponder over the next steps. He then issued a proclamation ordering a total curfew and a threat of firing on any kind of crowd which assembled. By dawn he had moved to Rambagh, and had at his disposal, 475 British and 710 native soldiers as well as two armored cars and several machine guns. 

Meanwhile Dyer got word from Shimla as Lt Gen Dwyer had reported to them and the word was ‘if troops were to be used and they were forced to open fire, they should make an example’. As all this was going on, Hans Raj, an aide to Dr. Kitchlew and an unsavory character was busy arranging a public protest meeting at 430PM the following day in the Jallianwala Bagh, now a plot of empty ground with just a well, a pepul tree and the relics of a shrine.

Sunday morning dawned and Dyer warned his soldiers not to take it out personal against any natives. They then took out a march and read the proclamation of curfew at 19 different points in the City. Curiously it was not read at the Jalianwalah Bagh or the Golden temple where the crowds were expected to be the biggest. By afternoon the Bagh started to fill up, what with many people in the city for the Biasaki celebrations. A plane flew overhead and some people scattered in panic fearing bombing, as Dwyer had ordered, in another incident. At about 4PM, Dyer heard about the meeting, and proceeded to the location with his troops. Interestingly Dwyer had earlier that afternoon preemptively proclaimed martial law in Lahore and Amritsar. Did he actually also order Dyer to do what he was going to do? We will get to that later as we sift through the ashes.

Dyer, Briggs and Anderson drove to the Bagh accompanied by 25 Baluchi’s armed with rifles, 25 Gurkhas also similarly armed and 40 Gurkhas with Kukris (carefully selected so they would not hesitate to fire on the Punjabis). The armored cars followed. Dyer, Briggs and Anderson stationed themselves at the very back. The formation now moved into the bagh, leaving the armored cars on the street as there was not enough space for them to drive through.

Without any warning, the troops took firing positions and Dyer gave the order to fire. Hans Raj first told the crowd that the Sarkar would not fire, then he entreated them not to flee stating that the shots were blanks, before bolting. It was utter chaos. The troops fired volley after volley, in total 1650 shots into the 5,000 odd crowd. As records indicate, some 379 died, including women and children. Over a thousand were injured. Dyer emotionless, directed the troops to direct fire where the crowd was the thickest, for some 10 or so minutes. The resulting massacre was according to the callous Dyer, ‘a lesson which would be felt throughout India’. He did nothing to help anybody, even the injured and dying, after the shooting.

Dyer filed an arrogant and remorseless report after the event, never once thinking he would be questioned and Dwyer immediately replied – ‘your action correct and the Lt General approves’.

Shops remained closed the following days, and Dyer threatened the owners with force and guns upon which they reopened. Something had flipped Dyers mind completely for his next steps were baffling, he issued a series of humiliating orders, forcing anybody who met an European to salaam him in respect, forcing people to crawl through the Kucha Kurrichhan alley, all bicycles were confiscated, and 93 native lawyers were forced to work as coolies and watch floggings. Many young men were flogged for assaulting Miss Sherwood. Colonel Dyer later explained the crawling order to a British inspector: "Some Indians crawl face downwards in front of their gods. I wanted them to know that a British woman is as sacred as a Hindu god and therefore they have to crawl in front of her, too."

The event involving Sherwood, was in hindsight, what brought Dyer to the breaking point. In fact she had ventured out alone in the middle of a riot, got hit a few times and was brought to the ground in the melee, not sexually assaulted, stripped or raped as was widely rumored. But then Col Dyer probably recalled the mutiny where ‘delicately nurtured white women’ had once been assaulted. His Annie was in the vicinity and this could happen to her too. A terrible fear gnawed his heart of this very possibility and he had to act before it was too late, he had to nip any possibility of a mass riot in the bud. It had nothing to do with any kind of insurrection against the crown.

O’Dwyer stated ‘the Amritsar business cleared the air, and if there was to be a holocaust anywhere, and one regrets there should be it was best at Amritsar. Speaking with perhaps a more intimate knowledge of the then situation than anyone else, I have no hesitation in saying that General Dyer's action that day was the decisive factor in crushing the rebellion, the seriousness of which is only now being realized’.

I will not dwell too much on the event and its aftermath any further, for there is so much of detail available in the public domain. While most of the British in India including people like Kipling were supportive of Dyer’s actions, Indian politicians and statesmen were in uproar. Even Churchill mentioned it to be a sinister & monstrous event as Americans condemned it. The Hunter Commission was appointed and Dyer still refused to accept the weight of his actions saying ‘I think it quite possible that I could have dispersed the crowd without firing but they would have come back again and laughed, and I would have made, what I consider, a fool of myself’. As this continued, Dyer, seriously ill with jaundice and arteriosclerosis, was hospitalized.

Legal and Home Members on the Viceroy's Council ultimately decided that, though Dyer had acted in a callous and brutal way, military or legal prosecution would not be possible due to political reasons. However, he was finally found guilty of a mistaken notion of duty and relieved of his command on 23^rd March. The British meanwhile collected a large purse of close to 28,000 pounds to allow Dyer a happy retirement.  It is said that Dyer did not sleep a single night after that event and died a broken man in July 1927. Miss Marcella Sherwood for one, later defended Colonel Dyer, describing him "as the 'saviour' of the Punjab and returned to continue her missionary work.

O’Dwyer cooperated with the subsequent inquiry established under Lord Hunter and, in a series of forthright statements, supported Dyer's actions. Dyer was censured and ordered to resign; and although O'Dwyer remained in India, his career was effectively over.

And now for the final part. Sankaran Nair resigned from the Viceroy’s Executive Council in protest against the conduct of the Government even after Annie Besant and CF Andrews begged him to stay as the Indian representative within the council. He continued in the Secretary of State’s Council and moved to England.  It was largely due to his insistence that a Royal Commission was appointed to inquire into the events of 1919 and the guilty officials, civilian and military, were punished. ‘As far as it lay in my power’, said Sankaran Nair, ‘I was determined to prevent another Jalianwala Bagh in India ’. Sankaran Nair however could not see eye to eye with Mahatma Gandhi and wrote a book called Gandhi and Anarchy, where he detailed his hesitation in supporting Gandhian methods. In it he also wrote the so called libelous statement: "Before the Reforms it was in the power of the Lieutenant-Governor (i.e. Dwyer), a single individual, to commit the atrocities in the Punjab we know only too well”.

O’Dwyer who felt that he and Dyer had been thrown under the bus, was incensed by Nair’s words- But when they were made by a man who was a member of the Government of India - the authority to which I was directly subordinate at the time of the events in question and who had, as he claims special inner knowledge not available to the general public, I could not pass them by.

The British and Indian government tried hard to get the two dueling parties to compromise, in fact they even provided confidential information to Nair to fight his case. After all they did not want all kinds of information hitting the press wires and incensing the public even further.

The case is an interesting study by itself and I will therefore not talk too much about it, but just that it was stilted against Nair all the way. As Collett explains ‘In court, Nair found himself at a very great disadvantage. In the England of 1924 there were few who were prepared to support his view that Sir Michael O'Dwyer had been repressive tyrant, and those who were had little public standing. Only one Englishman was on Nair’s side as a witness and his evidence did not amount to much. Nair’s legal team was forced to fall back on depositions legally sworn by over 120 witnesses. Only one juror supported Nair, the Hon Harold Laski. Sir Michael O'Dwyer won his case, and was able ever thereafter to maintain that he and Dyer had been vindicated in a British court. Nair had to not only pay a fine of 500 pounds but also bear the court costs of around 7,000 Pounds. But the Nair case inflicted great damages on the British establishment, public outcry became even more strident and Justice McCardie had to bear the brunt of it, and as days went by took to occult and gambling, finally committing suicide.

Michael O’Dwyer, as you will recall was assassinated by Udham Singh (Alias Mohammed Singh Azad) in 1940 in retaliation for the Jallianwala Bagh massacre in Amritsar. Singh said, ‘I did it because I had a grudge against him. He deserved it. He was the real culprit. He wanted to crush the spirit of my people, so I have crushed him’.

Nair returned to Madras in 1924, deciding to take a back seat from then on seeing Gandhiji in the ascendance.  He did put in a final word though ‘Thanks to Gandhi, India has become a world's problem, that is his greatest contribution’. He spent many of his last years with KPS Menon, his son-in-law, in Ceylon continuing his yoga practices and immersed in religion. In 1934, hearing of his son-in-law Kandeth’s demise, he rushed from Madras to Madanpalle and on the way met with an accident fetching him a serious head injury. He passed away a month later, in May 1934.

He was loud, he was brusque and he was rough. That perhaps made his life amidst an overbearing British bureaucracy, bearable. But he had a sense of humor, look at the following incident which transpired after he had resigned from the viceroy’s council and you will understand the man.

Sankaran Nair had resigned in disgust from the viceroy's executive council and during the final interview, Lord Chelmsford asked if he could suggest somebody as his successor. Pointing to his peon, Ramprasad, Nair said, “He is tall, he is handsome, he wears his livery well and he will say yes to whatever you say. Altogether he will make an ideal member of the council”.

The Muree brewery which Dyer’s father started still brews beer in Pakistan. In 2013, Murree Brewery opened a franchise in India to a Bangalore-based entrepreneur, allowing the brewing, bottling and marketing of the beer in India.

Read Part 2 Hans Raj - The British Approver ...here

References

Armies of the Raj: From the Mutiny to Independence, 1858-1947 - Byron Farwell

The Butcher of Amritsar: General Reginald Dyer - Nigel Collett

The Jallianwala Bagh Massacre - Savita Narain

The Amritsar Massacre, 1919 Tim Coates

Autobiography of Sir C. Sankaran Nair

Gandhi and Anarchy - C. Sankaran Nair

A short life of Sir C. Sankaran Nair, C Madhava Nair

Sir C. Sankaran Nair – KPS Menon

India as I know it - Michael O'Dwyer

The O'Dwyer v. Nair Libel Case of 1924: NIGEL A. COLLETT

India's Prisoner: A Biography of Edward John Thompson, 1886-1946 - Mary Lago

Read More

A Lankan Sojourn

Like I discovered, you will notice no great divide as you leave the southerly shores of Kerala and head out to Sri Lanka, or erstwhile Ceylon. The view from the air remains the same, with coconut tress blanketing out the ground, save for an occasional large and tall tree which had bravely stepped out from their midst. The food habits and choices in Lanka are quite similar and suiting the Malayali palate.  After all, till the island separated itself and floated off, it was part of the mainland, so the flora and fauna are largely similar, and the people look pretty much like those from Travancore. Anyway, that was where we were headed, a few weeks ago, and the week we spent there was eminently satisfying, to say the least.

Like Kerala, Lanka too is a land of fables and grandmother’s tales, and home to a good number of soft-spoken people. There are cities and there are towns, there are villages and hamlets, and of course there are tea estates and bungalows. Home to a large number of seemingly contented elephants, Lanka also boasts of large tracts of fertile land which were toiled upon ages ago, by thousands of Indian Tamils to establish the country’s famed tea gardens. Colonized first by the Portuguese, then the Dutch and finally the English, you can easily detect traces of mixed lineages from the names of the Sinhalese. Mostly Buddhist, and with sizable Christian, Hindu and Muslim minorities, the population relies mainly on tourism, tea and agriculture, not to forget the islands burgeoning gem and pearl industry.

The flight from Cochin landed in Colombo in under an hour, we hardly had time for a shuteye on the plane. What jerked me awake every now and then was a stewardess passing by and her hips swaying past the periphery of my bleary vision. Those seductive hips were pleasantly distracting (I was reminded of Kamalhasan’s hilarious exploits in the Tamil film Meendum Kokila) and exacerbated by the way the Sri Lankan saree is worn! We were whisked off the Bandaranayke (named after the family of eminent politicians, and Lankan prime ministers) airport by our chauffer after some Sri Lankan rupees were procured from the exchange counter. The first taste of Lankan food was satisfying, and the abundance of scraped coconut, coconut oil and coconut milk and could be tasted in most dishes, much to my delight. Omnipresent was the ‘pol sambal’ or coconut chutney and the onion chutney laced with fish ‘sini sambal’. We loved the taste of most of dishes, and finally topping it off with the local dessert ‘watalappam’ made it a full meal.

Pinniwala

Off we went next to the elephant orphanage at Pinniwala, some 90km NE from Colombo, where one could watch a number of elephants frolicking in the river and wandering about, but then again, that visit for the Malayali is just a pleasant diversion for I was coming after attending a temple festival at Palghat where we had five adult elephants in parade for the Navaratri festival. Most Malayalee’s love elephants and a fair number of them can be observed ambling around in Palakkad & Trichur roads, walking from one temple festival to the next (or glumly chewing a palm leaf and looking lazily around with forlorn eyes, as the truck carrying them lurched around potholes). One thing disturbed us though and it would trouble us the entire tour, for our chauffer who was supposed to double as a guide as well, simply was not a guide and one who was at best reticent, morose and one who presumably hated or feared his own voice. Nevertheless, we were not put off, for there was much to observe and take in.

Dambulla Rock Caves

Like we saw that people felled coconuts using a long pole, rather than climbing the tree like in Kerala, but then again as I mentioned previously the tress were much shorter and they had both the red and green varieties, with the red used only for tender coconut water, which we consumed regularly stopping the car now and then as the weather heated up. The driver informed us that they did have people climbing up or going from one tree to another, but they were in larger plantations. And we drove on, as paddy fields and small homes whizzed past the window.

Dambulla, an ancient town, situated about 50 km further NE, at the center of Lanka was our next destination.  Interestingly, Dambulla’s cricket ground, built in 167 days is where Virat Kohli, present Indian captain made his debut, in 2008. Showcasing the heydays of Buddhism, the five cave temples of Dambulla depict many statues, especially large reclining Buddha statues and lovely cave paintings. King Valgambahu who had been was driven out of his throne by Dravidian invaders  had found sanctuary in these regions and after finally defeating the invaders, had the famous rock temples built in gratitude. The so called Golden Dambulla Rock Temple is one of most revered Buddhist sanctuaries of Sri Lanka.

A warning for future travelers, visiting these rock temples and many other high places require you to be in reasonable physical shape. As you climb up to the caves, monkeys survey you lazily, checking if they can lope of with food you might have in your hands. This UNESCO world heritage rock temple for example requires you to climb steps totaling to some 160mts. The Dambulla cave complex include some 153 Buddha statues, three statues of Sri Lankan kings and four statues of Hindu gods and goddesses. Lovely murals depicting the Buddha story decorate many of the cave walls. As you get back, you come across the new temple and the massive golden statue of Buddha and a horde of devotees, young and old, thronging the courtyards dressed in whites. Every full moon day is a national holiday in Sri Lanka with the temples, stupas and vihara’s would exhibit throngs of white clad devotees and red clad monks, with much chanting.

Kandy Buddha Tooth temple

That made me recall an interesting trivia - The Sri Lankan flag recognizes most of the major religious groups there, the yellow border and pepul leaves symbolize Buddhism - the main religion in the country, while the green and saffron bands represent the country’s Muslim and Hindu Tamil communities. Maroon of course representing the Singhalese. Lanka as you may know is the fourth largest exporter of tea in the world, and in February 2017, marked its 150th anniversary of tea exportation. Ceylon Tea, being that Sri Lanka is most known for, is considered by the cleanest tea in the world, with negligible pesticide content. Lanka is also known as Serendib (Arabic corruption of Sanskrit Sinhaladweep) and usually termed the Paradise Island. If you did not know, Serendib (through the lovely Persian fairy tale of the three princes) is the source of the word serendipity, coined by Horace Walpole recollecting a part of the "silly fairy tale" in which the three princes by "accidents and sagacity" discern the nature of a lost camel. Most of the world’s cinnamon also comes from Sri Lanka (80-90 %!), so you can thank them for sharing this with the world!

You will quickly notice the abundance of auto rickshaws or the three wheeler ‘tuk tuk’, which our driver was very upset with. He claimed that the decadence of the island can be fully attributed to the arrival of the cheap and accessible Bajaj three wheeler which quickly disturbed the entire balance of the island. Anybody could buy them and drive them around on cheap hires to make a quick buck, they disregarded many a traffic rule. I had to agree with him, for the normal Lankan driver is quite careful and law abiding compared to his counterparts in South India and the single lane roads in Lanka required discipline to prevent choking up of the traffic. But another aspect disappointed me, the architecture of roadside houses was bereft of any originality or uniqueness, unlike those at Bali. Roadside shops were replete with fruits and with the mango season over in Kerala, the piles in Dambulla made us stop and but a couple of alphonso’s which the shop keeper slices for us. She would not peel off the skin saying that it was not right for her (not really dirty) hands to make contact with something we had to eat.

Our place of stay was quite a splendid affair, the Harbana village resort with lovely cottages in a large lakeside resort, lots of walking trails and a huge buffet room for dining and entertainment, not to leave out live music. Hammocks, rattan chairs, pools, a cricket pitch where the many workers of the resort spent their spare time, all placed in the middle of a natural resort with huge trees and creepers made it quite a unique colonial experience. The pains of the cave temple climb were quickly drowned in copious swigs of Lanka’s Singa beer.

Sigiriya

Can you imagine starting a day with a crispy egg appam with coconut milk for breakfast? Well, that was just part of it, for the choices were aplenty. Thus fortified, we set off for the first major hike of the day, climbing the Sigiriya (Lion rock) hill fortress of king Kashyapa. The fortress was built by him atop a 200 meter tall hill after he had wrested power away from his half-brother Moggallana, who fled to India. Expecting the inevitable return of Moggallana, Kashyapa is said to have built his palace on the summit of Sigiriya as a fortress as well as a pleasure palace. Moggallana finally arrived, declared war, and defeated Kashyapa in 495 CE. During the battle Kashyapa's armies abandoned him and he committed suicide by falling on his sword. Well, the palace is all gone and only ruins remain showing the foundations of the palace, the palace tank atop the mountain and the famous polished mirror wall and the murals of many a lovely lass remain for one to see, but well worth the arduous climb. The climb is slow, single file, on narrow steps and as I said before, quite tough for those who only warm their backsides in office chairs, most of the year! From a medical assistance point of view, not much is available, save a small first aid station at the summit.

Weary, but contended, we proceed on to a lakeside village. Phew! It was a back breaking ride in an ancient bullock cart with an intent to visit a villager’s thatched island house. The second half of the trip was in a boat. By the time we reached there, we were simply famished. The lady dressed in a simple lungi and blouse proceeded to show us old village life, mark you, nothing different from that in a Palghat village, where she de-husked a coconut using the vertical blade, scraped it using a scraper (I could not resist doing it myself – had assisted my mom many a time in my younger days) and ground a mean pol sambhal on a stone ammikkallu. Her sister was in the meantime making some fish mango curry, and through the demonstration, I must admit, our mouths watered and we were getting impatient for the lunch as the village mongrel lazily dozed off at the home entrance, not bothered by the arrival of some funny foreigners. The meal which followed on a lotus leaf was simple but complete, baby plantains for desert, and we went back to the car in an auto rickshaw, eyes heavy with sleep. As my wife dozed off in the hammock, I watched a cricket game between the waiters and the houseboys of the resort, not surprised at the quality of the batting and bowling of these youngsters.

Early next morning, we started a long drive to Kandy, the second major city in Lanka after Colombo, which all in all, proved to be somewhat of a disappointment. It had been the last capital of the ancient Nayak’s of Madurai and home to the famous Buddha tooth relic. The temple was fascinating, nonetheless, and the hotel we stayed in, just so-so, like any other clean modern hotel, devoid of any character. Tired, we skipped the trip to the famed botanical gardens of Paradeniya, which people tell us was a miss and quite glorious. The tooth temple held particular interest for me, and I will retell that story another day, together with its connections to Zheng he or Cheng Ho. As is said, since old times long gone, safeguarding of the relic which had been brought in from India’s Kalinga kingdom hidden in the Princess Hemalli’s hair, was the responsibility of the Lankan monarch, and so the custodianship of relic symbolized the right to rule. After the temple visit, we wandered around the town of Kandy, but sad to say it was not very satisfying.

It had been our desire to take the much recommended train ride to the highlands of Lanka, but the upper class tickets had all been sold out and the travel agency were not willing to allow us to travel third class. Our driver Basil, made a valiant attempt the next day to get us to the train as he had found out that morning that two tickets were available, but we could not reach the station in time and it proved to be a touch and go affair (something that would be repeated again as you will read). It was a rainy cold day and the drive to the hill station town of Nuwara Eliya, insipid. The first of the visits was to a tea factory at Glenlock where the lady guide took us through the plucking, sorting, drying and curing process of tea. A few cups of tea were gulped, nice on a cold rainy day, and we were soon off with a few packets of tea as souvenirs.

The drive up the mountains took most of the day and on the way we stopped at Ramboda, where they had built a temple in honor of the great monkey god and friend of Rama, Hanuman. According to the ancient stories, Ramboda is the area where the forces of Rama had gathered to fight Ravana. The nearby Ramboda waterfalls were spectacular, though the lunch was mediocre.

At long last we reached Nuwara Eliya and quickly proceeded to the quaint Hill club where one had to take temporary membership to stay. It was colonial to the core, with suited and booted staff, old fashioned furniture, well-manicured lawns, a tennis court, regularly tended gardens as well as rooms and a general atmosphere which took you back a century, at least.  After settling down we meandered through the small town, nothing different from any Indian hill stations, for example Ootacamund, and saw its race course and botanical gardens. Not to be missed is the Sita or Ashoka Vatika and the Sita temple where the lovely Sita ruminated on her future, as a prisoner of Ravana, while she waited for Ravana to come in rescue. Needless to mention, Lanka is home to a lot of Ashoka trees many of which were apparently set afire by Hanuman with his tail as he came in search of Sita. It was here that they say Mandodari came to meet her and where Hanuman alighted, and identified himself with Rama’s finger ring.

Hill Club

The evening proved to be a formal affair as we were to dress formally to eat in the dining room. When I mentioned that I would prefer the second and less formal dining room the steward insisted that we visit the cloak room and pick a suit and tie from the hotel stock. So attired, we sipped a few drinks by the wood fireplace, and supped a nice dinner a little later. As we spent our evening so, the steward regaled us of tales of Queen Elizabeth’s visit to the very room for supper, showing us the cutlery offered for her dining pleasure. The reading room had plenty of old and new magazines and the ‘mixed bar’ at the end of the corridor allowed lesser mortals to sip a beer. Many a stuffed deer head gazed down forlornly at us, having been targets of hunters long dead and the board on the wall stated that there were no floods expected and that the roads were clear. It also mentioned that the train to Colombo would leave at 530AM. As I took in all this, the cashier behind the polished brass grill window could be seen clacking away, not at the typewriter positioned nearby, but at his modern keyboard, to tally various guest accounts. The lady at the entrance had in similar fashion given up using the old rotary phone and the plug in telephone switch, just as the helper boy no longer used bellows to keep the fire blazing. Those days were forgotten, but the implements left behind reminded you of the time when the Englishman made merry. As we got back to the room, to retire for the evening, there were orchids on the bed and believe it or not, a hot water bottle on each bedside, to warm our nether ends! So warmed up, we drifted off to an early night and a deep slumber, since we had to leave the next day at 5AM.

Sita temple

We will remember the day that followed for a long time, since it was a reasonably tough trail, walking through the fog till it cleared, all of 12 km through the Hortons plains at some 7,000 feet elevation that left you tired and winded after 5-6 hours of walking with little rest, climbing up, slithering down and exercising wheezy lungs, to see the Bakers falls, the world’s end precipice and so on in a plain reminiscent of the Scottish highlands. World's End is a sheer precipice with an 870 mts drop and you can see tiny villages and tea plantations in the valley below.  Another cliff known as the Lesser World's End of 270 mts is located not far from World's End. The grasslands here was apparently created when Hanuman set the trees alight but now it is home to other animals, and we found on our path a freshly mauled deer, by a leopard in the forest, the fact that it was nearby chilled our already cold blood. Tired and hungry, we got back to Nuwara and after a quick bite, settled to watch a day-nighter cricket match between India and Australia, which India lost.

A visit to the Adams peak was something we missed, deliberately, for we were not sure our physical conditioning was sufficient to make that climb and down. Also the climb would have necessitated a three day rest later, which we did not have for we had to get back to India and US soon after the Lanka trip. Adam’s Peak incidentally is the most sacred mountain in Lanka. Sri Pada as it is otherwise called, has tourist and pilgrims from all over the world climb to its peak by candlelight to stand in the famous footprint left there. Buddhist’s believe that it is the footprint of Buddha, Hindus believe it’s the footprint of Lord Shiva, Christians and Muslims in Sri Lanka believe that this was the footprint of Adam.

The next and penultimate day of our tour was a drive to take us back to Colombo and our desire to enjoy a train ride was still not satiated. So, Basil took us early in the morning to the highest rail station (6200 ft) of Lanka at Pattipola to give it a try, but the train was already leaving the station as we made a wild dash to the platform. Not to be deterred, Basil sped to the next station at Ambewela from where we boarded a second class compartment of the blue hill train for an eventful but short ride to Nanu-oya. Scenic is just one word to describe the rolling plains, the hill side tea plantations, and the glorious pine, teak, coconut, arecanut and eucalyptus trees that sped past the windows of the train. At each curve, we could see the rest of the train ahead of us and the tourists craning their heads out to catch a sight of the many waterfalls we passed, enroute. One thing is clear, they take care of tourists having a separate foreigner’s rest room in each rail station!

World's End

Tea estates with English names like Shannon, Leigh, St Clare, Strathdon, Devon, Edinburg and Somerset dotted with Tamil plantation laborers whizzed past our windows as we drove down the hills, destined for Colombo. The radio played lovely 70-80’s songs on Ceylon’s 93 or 93.2 FM, with the DJ rattling off on various matters now and then. A surprise was the lady police’s uniform which was skirts! Drivers hardly used their horns, roadsides exhibited very little litter and mango trees still sported tender mangoes. One thing mystified us though, LG TV’s advertised there could drive away mosquitoes, can you believe that? The TV's "Mosquito Away Technology" uses ultrasonic waves that are inaudible to humans but cause mosquitoes to fly away, according to LG, and works even when switched off (I checked it out and found that it had originally been designed for the Indian market!).

Finally at long last we were in Colombo and a hasty city tour before sundown took us through the Galle sea face, museum, St Lucia cathedral, Independence square, the twin towers, Gangaramaya Buddha temple, Beira lake, Pettah, Town hall etc though the dense traffic was a deterrent in enjoying it. The last night’s stay was at the oceanfront Lavaniya hotel, an ageing but well placed property with a nice balcony dining set up, replete with live music. Though we tried, we could not eat the famed Ceylon Porotta, the driver stating that he would not be party to our buying unhygienic street food. We dropped off to a weary sleep with the ocean lapping the hotel walls. The next morning we boarded the flight back to Kerala…

Colombo

A nice sojourn, leaving behind many a memory of days well spent, new people, new sights and sounds, new flavors and a taste of Lanka’s history. We did not see a lot of the Paradise Island, and I would only guess that we are destined to visit again, for we still have to see the Adams peak, Galle, Trincomalle and Jaffna! 

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The story of Aviyal

When my children were small, we would all cuddle up and I would tell them some of the stories I remembered. But however many times I tried to change the stories to new ones, my sons would want to hear a few of the standard ones. I used to wonder why for they were basic Aesop’s fables or Panchatantra stories, and I assumed that I probably narrated them in a more melodramatic and thrilling fashion for them to like it. The challenge of course was to make subtle changes each time. If I made drastic changes they would protest and make it clear it was not acceptable. And so it went. These days, I wistfully think of the times when the kids were small and innocent, when conversation was prime and texting was just starting.

When I was small and living at Calicut, it was pretty much the same for me, I used to love the stories my Valiamma and Valiachan told me often, though they were mostly from Hindu mythology, and almost always dealing with Lord Krishna and the Bhaghavatam, sometimes the Mahabharata and rarely from the Ramayana. So I racked my brains to see if the story I will retell today was one I had heard from Kochoppa. I am sure it was not one of those I heard and am convinced it was made up by somebody in recent times. Anyway let’s first cut to the chase, and hear a couple of versions of the story before discussing it with those who have not walked away from the room.

The Mahabharata is understood to be an ancient Vedic period epic, and though there are hundreds of versions, the main story thread has not been altered too much. It has always been a narrated story and so naturally just like I did with my children, generations would have added, changed and altered the story here and there, to suit the changing morality, fashions, behavior and social rules existing at a particular time. Written in a cabbage concept, new stories start as you get deep into the first and the theme unravels, layer by layer. But we will not get into all that, for you will all run away in no time, if I start discussing such aspects.

The good lads, the five Pandavas and the bad lads, all of one hundred Kauravas are key characters in the main story. Their consorts, parents, uncles and friends come in now and then and with Lord Krishna in their midst and in support, the story heats up to culminate in the great Kurukshetra war. As the uninitiated can imagine, all this boils down to a claim for the throne, a battle of succession. Should it be Yudhishtira, the eldest of the Pandavas or should it be the crafty Duryodhana the head of the Kaurava clan? As the fascinating story unravels, unisons and marriages take place, petty fights happen, ogres are slain, tales of deceit and honesty unravel, keeping up the anticipation and suspense all the way to the great climax of the Kurusehtra war.

The Pandavas children of Pandu, brought up by the venerable Kunti (The three eldest are hers and two are from Pandu’s second wife Madri) being Yudhishtira, Bheema, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva grow up to be strapping young fellows. The blind Dhritarashtra fathers a hundred sons and a daughter with his wife Gandhari (That my friends, is a macabre tale!) and Duryodhana is his eldest son.  Pandu who held the seat as the ruler of Hastinapura cedes his seat to Dhritarashtra who takes over, though blind. As the children grow up, the eldest Pandava Yudhishtira is proclaimed the crown price and Duryodhana is miffed by it. The enmity, hostility and rivalry between these cousins in the name of succession to the throne and leading up finally to the Kurukshetra war, is what the epic is all about.

A little break here. What if I said that there is a legend which narrates that Bhima invented Aviyal, the favorite dish of Malayalees? Before Tamilians and Mangalorians scream blue murder, let me also add that Aviyal is popular in those environs, but is staple to a Malayali Sadya and a main dish in a Kerala feast. As the legend goes Bhima, the second of the Pandavas came up with the recipe. So let’s zoom into that tale of the Mahabharata, mentioned mainly in a Tamil version (or so it seems). Bhima was a master chef and a wrestler to boot, in fact they even have a style of cooking attributed to him. So we note that there are two schools of traditional Brahmin cooking, the Nala pachaka and the Bhima pachaka. Nala pachaka if you ask me, is tastier and includes larger amounts of salt and spices. Bhima pachaka on the other hand is blander and austere. Incidentally Nala was also a gambler who lost both his wife and kingdom, but regained both eventually and in his story, we find another King Bhima mentioned. Nala was also a great chef and there is a book containing his recipes (Pakadarpanam) for those interested.

Aviyal, a popular dish, is a colorful mishmash of various well cooked vegetables mixed with ground cumin, a little turmeric - optional, green chillies and coconut, a little salt and yogurt, dollops of coconut oil and finished off with a mustard and curry leaf tadka.  Without too many spices, red chillies or coriander, it stands apart. The striking aspect of this dish is that it contains all kinds of vegetables quite contrary to the culinary rules of the period, for they were particular about which vegetables went together and which didn’t. The first of the legends that ties up the heavenly dish of Avial with Bhima dates back to a time when Yudhishtira comes back with his mother Kunti and his brothers as crown prince to claim the throne.

As you can imagine, the son of the reigning king, Duryodhana, is furious, that his claim has been usurped by his elder cousin. Anyway the ruling of the elders had to be obeyed and so they all lived an uneasy life, with the Pandavas not faring too well, with no real powerbase in the country in support. On the other hand, Duryodhana and his brothers were particularly irritated with the behavior of a boisterous and bullying Bhima who picked up a fight with these cousins every now and then, winning each bout with ease, being a powerful wrestler. So one day, the evil cousins decided to finish him off and invited him alone to a feast where they fed him poisoned food. Bhima, as you can imagine, was overjoyed and tucked away the food with no qualms, only to slide into a comatose slumber from which nobody could arouse him. The still body was then weighted with chains and dumped into a river (Pramanakotithirta - Ganges) through which he drifted off into the Bengal Seas perhaps and settled deeper and deeper….

As you know, under the seas is situated the kingdom of snakes, and it is called Bhogavati, ruled by the venerable Naga king Vasuki. Bhima’s body slowly made its way down into the realm of these great Nagas which seeing this intruder, stung him with their poisonous fangs (now some clever guy might wisely quip that there are very few poisonous water snakes, don’t interrupt… shut up and listen, this was way before Christ and in those days poisonous snakes lived everywhere….). This venom which got into Bhima’s blood stream miraculously neutralized the poison fed to him by Duryodhana and he was soon revived. If I were telling this to my son, he will ask ‘how come Bhima did not drown underwater?’ That I don’t know maybe there were in some subterraneous cave or something….The spluttering and angry Bhima was taken to the king Vasuki as a foreign alien by the local chief Aryaka. Vasuki incidentally (though a snake) was related to Kunti, Bhima’s mother, through Yadu who was a Naga and so welcomed Bhima as a guest of honor. So Bhima stayed there for a while, Vasuki fed him a little of the Amrut potion to protect him from future poisoning and to give him the strength of 10,000 serpents and while there, also managed to get married to a Naga princess, who later bore him a son Bilalsen.

Up in the land of humans, the Kauvaravas were inwardly rejoicing, but outwardly decided to throw the usual ceremonial fortnight death feast celebrating Bhima’s move to the world of the departed. A huge amount of vegetables and rice were being readied for the feast, when lo and behold, our man Bhima arrived and strode into their midst, hale and hearty. But the trip up had made the big man, mighty hungry and he was craving for a large amount of food, and he needed it, like, pronto. Seeing the large pile of vegetables, he lost no time in crafting a quick and easy dish to be chomped with rice, using some coconuts and a little green chilli…That my friends, was how Aviyal was first made, according to this Tamil legend…

But this got me thinking. All this happened in Hastinapura which was purportedly near today's Meerut, famed for its elephants and close to the Ganga and Yamuna rivers. If the body of Bhima was tossed into the Ganga waters, it had to flow all the way to the nearby sea which would have been the Purva Samudra or the Bengal Sea. Perhaps he drifted down to the southern Patala regions where Nagas lived? Anyway he got back after a sojourn in less than 14 days, which is might efficient and then went on to make a curry with coconuts in Northerly Hastinapura? Maybe he got enamored with fresh coconuts while in the southern Naga kingdoms, so that gives this Aviyal the coconut and Kerala connection. Maybe Vasuki’s kingdom was west of the Malayagiri or the Western Ghats. As we all know, we had serpent worship in the past and that was a land of serpents when Parasurama brought in the Brahmins from the North, according to Keralolpatti. We also know that Bhima slew Bakasura and Bakasurakottai is situated near Mettupalayam.

While that was purportedly the origin of this magical and mythical vegetable dish which is becoming increasingly popular around the world, not just South India, and staple to Kerala, there are further mentions and connections with the Mahabharata. Some years ago, my friend Jina D’Cruz had written about it. 

As the Mahabharata story canters along, we find that Yudhishtira is an obsessive gambler and gets trapped in a game of loaded dice with Duryodhana, which he loses over and again. He ends up gambling away his wealth, kingdom, family and even his brothers and their common wife Draupadi. At long last truce is brokered and as part of the deal, the Pandavas are exiled for 13 years into the dank and dark forests, which as you can imagine were aplenty in those days, full of wild animals and ogres. People were simple, though doing all kinds of wrong things now and then. But deforestation, wiping out of an entire animal kingdom etc were not yet in vogue and humans lived more in harmony with nature. So the Pandavas were consigned to the forest and adventure after adventure followed them.

The last or the thirteenth year was a tricky one as per the agreement. The five brothers and Draupadi had to live incognito during that last year. If they did get caught, the whole exile would have to be restarted all over again and they would need to go back into exile for 12 more years. As you would have thought, we are going into that 13^th and thrilling year of exile, not all of it though, but just one event from it to illustrate our present tale. The chapter (4^th among the 18 chapters) of the epic which deals with this part is titled Virata Parva following the Aranya or Vana parva detailing the 12 exile years in the forests. Meanwhile spies have been sent by Duryodhana to track and find out what the Pandavas were upto. Here we go…..

The brother’s and the sole lady trek on to westerly Virata, maybe an oasis in the middle of the desert (or probably the Thar Desert had not formed then and the Saraswati was flowing serene), to the hospitable Matsya kingdom ruled by Virata. They were all known for various powresses and skills, so the new identities had to encompass those too. Yudhishtira decided to pass himself off as a courtier Kanka, a skilled dice player in the kings court, Bhima would don the role of Vallabha an expert cook and wrestler, Arjuna as a dancing eunuch named Brihanalla, Nakula would become the stable and horse keeper Granthika and Sahadeva would become Tatipala, a tender of cattle and the cowsheds of the palace. Draupadi would become Sairandhri an expert hairdresser for the ladies of the anthapuram.

Very many harrowing adventures take place, Kanka makes money off dice games, Vallabha wins a major wrestling bout, then gets involved in saving Sairandhri from the clutches of a lusty army chief Keechaka, but this event raised a doubt in the minds of Duryodhana and he suspected that the Pandavas were in Virata. He then calls a meeting to discuss how they could flush out the five.

Let’s take an interlude at this juncture and focus on the activities of Bhima a.k.a Vallabha in the palace of Virata. Vallabha had entered the royal kitchens as an expert cook and had quite a few recipes in his collection, getting the feasters to simply sigh in contentment and happiness after consuming his specialties making king Virata happy. It was here that he came up with one of his greatest delicacies, as legends portray, the Aviyal.

One fine day, the king heard that Sage Durvasa and his entourage was coming to visit him. The message immediately raised a huge alarm in the palace. This sage was not to be trifled with, he would fly into a rage for silly reasons, and his rage was inherited from Siva. I really don’t know how he became a sage with this kind of uncontrolled rage, or how people put up with him!!  But you don’t ask such questions in a story. It looks like our man Durvasa had specific food tastes and preferred blander, but good food. If he did not get it in time and as he wanted it, he would curse Virata. Bhima was in a quandary, all he had was a good amount of different vegetables, and some coconuts. So, as the story goes, Bhima cut and boiled all the veggies together and mixed them with grated coconuts and curd, thus inventing Avial. Durvasa khush huva. On the other hand, he may have remembered how he made the dish after he came back from the land of the dead!

Continuing on with the Virata parva, Duryodhana decides to launch an attack on the Virata kingdom now without an army chief, seize all his cattle, knowing that this would flush the Pandavas out. Anyway as you can imagine, Duryodhana and Susarman from trigatha (near Lahore) attacked the land, and the Pandavas came out of the entire episode unscathed…But that is another story…

The Aviyal recipe is also claimed by many others, including Lord ganapati and of course mere martals lime Saktan Thampuran King of Cochin and ramayyan Dalawa. So let’s make a passing mention of some of those stories to complete. Some day if I get more information, I promise to update this account.

According to Aswin, who mentioned this in an Avial posting of my departed friend P Tharakan, Apparently one his first acts as ruler of Cochin was to inspect the palace kitchens and behead the chief palace cook and probably a few assorted assistants as well when he saw the filthy condition of the kitchens. The practice then was to use the best pieces of vegetables were used for cooking and the rest (tips etc) were thrown away. To avoid wastage and achieve better food costs (hoteliering terms) he ordered that all the left over pieces of vegetables be mixed, cooked and made into one dish and aviyal was born. 

The Ramayya dalava story mentions a kootu about which I had written before. The Ramayyan curry that he is credited with was apparently made for Marthanda Varma when he was suffering from a stomach upset. It comprised ground coconut, curry leaves, curds, some jaggery (normally not a part of Avial), green chillies, other vegetables and yam. Many old timers in Travancore insist on this Aviyal version.

I cannot resist adding a few tidbits – It is said that the famous poet Ramana maharshi could subtly distinguish the tastes of the two kinds of aviyal - one, when all the vegetables were boiled together for the same length of time, and the other, when the easily cookable and the hard to cook vegetables were given different durations to boil so that the former was not over-cooked and the latter was not undercooked.

The writer and famous judge M Anatanarayanan in his acclaimed novel ‘Silver pilgrimage’ spends many a page on this exotic but simple dish, such was his love for this vegetable concoction. Here he mentions of a Lankan prince Jayasurya who learns the art of making Aviyal from Kerala and takes it to Sri Lanka and preserves the recipe in a tablet. Aviyal is in that book called the flower of Kerala civilization! He mentions that by custom, Aviyal should never be prepared by the deformed, by pregnant women, by those pale of caste, irreligious or by drunkards and should always be eaten with crisp pappadums….

Guys, it is time to wind up…

Tomorrow is Onam, and everybody will be feasting, including me. All those feasts will never be complete without a liberal portion of Aviyal. So my friends, go for it and when you munch those great vegetables, with that super coconut flavor…spare a thought for Vallabha, whether or not he came up with the recipe…

Happy Onam

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The Hermit of St Helena

Fernão Lopes – A Soldier Of Misfortune

Every now and then you come across a tidbit of information which when researched unearths a fascinating story. This was one such and relates to a person who sailed to the Indies during the period when the early Portuguese were striving to make their presence felt on the West Coast of India. The tale that follows narrates the travails of a person of nobility who left the shores of Lisbon, leaving behind his wife and child there, to seek his fortunes in Malabar and Goa. His hair raising adventures ending in a horrible story of suffering, forced him to flee those very shores, back to Lisbon. Did he reach home and unite with his family? His travails in Goa, Bijapur and the island of St Helana form a real life story never to be repeated again.

This story as you will imagine, is set in Portugal’s Golden Age, when Manuel I embarked on an ambitious period of expansion and pushed it into the fore of Europe. If you recall, the first of those navy captains leading an armada to the eastern seas was Vasco Da Gama who came and went in 1498, and repeated it once again, but made a nuisance of himself for the inhabitants of Malabar. In between his two voyages, a hot tempered Cabral came, but he too failed to establish a foothold in Malabar, though managing to do so in Cochin. Almeida was the next to attempt the conquest of Malabar.  The Portuguese attempts to subdue the Zamorin continued and the next admiral to arrive was the notorious Alfonso Albuquerque, who in an initial foray, nearly lost his life in Calicut and was injured.

Alfonso who had previously served in North Africa, gaining military experience in fierce campaigns against Muslim powers and Ottoman Turks, had by now developed extreme hatred for the Muslims and continued to hold them in contempt arriving in Malabar in 1503, and later in 1506 as the Goan Viceroy.  His early days were spent dealing with the intrigues of Almeida who did not hand over the position and there was a good reason for it.  Almeida was trying to exact revenge for the death of his son who had been killed in a sea encounter. In order to avoid any forceful meddling with authority, Almeida had Albuquerque jailed. Eventually, Almeida defeated a combined Muslim force off Diu in February 1509, and in the following November, with the arrival of a fleet from Portugal, he finally turned his office over to Albuquerque.

The years, until Alfonso had sorted out succession issues with Almeida, were as you saw, a little turbulent, but in 1509, he took over the Governor’s position and after giving up on his dreams to subdue the Zamorin, succeeded in establishing a stronghold in Goa around May 1510. He planned to use Goa as a naval base to control the Muslim domination of the Arabian Sea, divert the spice trade to Goa, and use the base to monopolize the trade in Persian horses. He entrenched his base further by allowing the marriage of his soldiers to local women, in order to provide Goa its own loyal population. That done, he moved off to capture and plunder Malacca, which became an immensely profitable port for the Portuguese. It was in this intermission period that our story reared its head and the protagonist came to the fore.

Goa 1920

As you can see, a lot had happened in these 13 years following the arrival of Gama and I had recounted those tales over a number of articles, introducing terrible, jolly, interesting and pitiable characters along the way. Some of those were heartwarming characters, like the the Senhora Da Panjim (recently narrated at the tail end of the Hindi movie ‘Dear Zindagi’).

This is not Albuquerque’s story, so let me hasten and introduce our hero to you. His name was Fernao Lopes, and he was some sort of a fidalgo (Portuguese Nobleman) who set out in the 8^th Armada of 1506 led by Tristão da Cunha, to maim and plunder Malabar. Born around 1480, it is not clear if Lopes was actually a fidalgo or an escudeiro, a squire. Perhaps he belonged to a rich family of Jewish origin who contributed generously to the king’s voyages to the Indies. What is important to note is that Fernao though not a fidalgo in the strict sense was a converted Jew (Rowlands) and a ‘New Christian’ who left Lisbon for India, during a period when both Jews and New Christians were being persecuted. However he was in the kings employ and was relatively safe. All this will become relevant later.

Afonso Albuquerque, the one to be called the Caesar of the East, also Da Cunha’s cousin, accompanied them, sailing under da Cunha’s command, but carrying secret orders to relive Almeida in Cochin, as the Viceroy. Thus crossed the paths of these two, Lopes and Albuquerque –for the first time. There is some suspicion that they did not quite hit it off and that Lopes developed a deep distaste for Albuquerque. The next time their paths crossed would prove to be fateful for Lopes, as you will soon see.

Banastarim fort - Goa

Albuquerque became the Viceroy, captured Goa and reigned supreme for a while and sailed on to take care of matters in Cochin and Malacca. Lopes was part of the Portuguese forces left to protect the reinforced fort of Benastarim (one of the key entry points into Goa) previously held by the Bijapur king. The Fort of São Tiago of Banastarim, also known as Fort St. James Banastarim or Benastarim Castle, was situated on the right bank of Cumbarjua Cana in old Goa. In 1511, knowing that Albuquerque was out of Goa, the Sultan of Bijapur, sent an army against Goa, under the command of Fulad Khan whom the Portuguese called Pulatecao. Fulad Khan managed to take Banastarim but made little progress in Goa's recapture. Rasul Khan, a general in Adil Shah’s employ, was then sent to reconquer Goa in 1512. When he and his forces reached Goa, Fulad Khan who was already there, refused to acknowledge his supremacy. With the help of the Portuguese, Rasul Khan managed to drive Fulad Khan out of Banastarim and, once he had taken possession of the fort, demanded the surrender of Goa being held by the Portuguese. He then besieged Goa and cut off all its food supplies.

It was around this period of time that Fernao Lopes and some 70 of his fellow soldiers, perhaps out of hunger, sheer misery, lack of supplies and any money (they had not been paid for months) as well as the utter disgust on the conduct his employers, turned coat and joined the Bijapur king’s army. Interestingly it is also to be noted that by this time, Adil Khan had another high level Portuguese renegade by name Joao Machado in his ranks, who was playing a double spy’s role. An enterprising character, he had earlier been deported from Lisbon for stealing a horse and fornicating with an abbots niece. This fella accompanied Cabral in the 1500 voyage to Malabar and was already an old hand in scheming intrigues.

Historians mention that Lopes and his fellow renegade soldiers had converted to Islam, perhaps due to necessity, or maybe due to marriage. As we saw earlier, Albequerque encouraged marriage with the women left in Goa, and many of these women had once been followers of Islam. One author implies that Lopes was perhaps influenced by his once Muslim wife to convert to Islam. Anyway these folks were now prepared to fight the Portuguese. News of this desertion reached Albuquerque, but he had to wait until late in 1512 till the monsoons had abated, before he could launch a counter attack to take Benastarim. The arrival of a new fleet from Portugal carrying a large number of soldiers, boosted Albuquerque’s resolve.

In the fierce attack, Rasul Khan held firm to a stalemate, and in negotiations which followed was forced to handover the Portuguese renegades. Machado who once fought for Khan had in the meantime swapped sides yet again and had gone over to Albuquerque, and owing to this was pardoned by the Viceroy and appointed as the port officer or shahbandar of Goa. In the meantime Rasul khan fled the fort. Other renegades who renounced Islam and went back accompanying Machado were pardoned too and were paid off their arrears. Fernao Lopes and his friend Pero Annes who refused to go back or renounce Islam, found no mercy from Albuquerque.

After a merciless and barbaric torture stretching over three days, Lopes’s ears were cut off, his nose was sliced away, his right foot was amputated, so also his left thumb. His beard and hair were plucked out or were scraped off with clam shells and mud and excreta applied over their bodies. After this horrible maiming, they were finally let go and left to die in the streets of Goa. Lopes miraculously survived the ordeal after suffering for a year but had no other go than to become a beggar, roaming the streets of Goa for the next two years begging for food (It is not clear if his wife helped him out).

In December 1515, Albuquerque died a miserable death for all his sins, of acute dysentery at sea, just off Goa and was succeeded by a man he hated intensely, Lope Soarez. His own remark explained Albuquerque’s polarized life, ‘bad relations with his men for the king and bad relations with the king for his men’, a situation which got him in the end.

Now that his chief nemesis and persecutor was gone, Fernao Lopes finally decided to forget Goa and sail back home. Lopes boarded a ship returning to Lisbon in 1516.

St Helena

Let us take a little interlude now and talk about an island. Out in the blue yonder, somewhere between the American continent and Africa is a speck of an island, just 42 square miles in size. It is so remote that nobody had ever heard of it until 1502. Most historical accounts mention that the island was discovered on 21^st (or 3^rd) May 1502 by João da Nova sailing in the relatively small 3^rd armada, and that he named it "Santa Helena" after Helena of Constantinople (Other historians have concluded that it was actually Estevao Da Gama, the cousin of Vasco, who discovered it around July 30^th 1503). The Portuguese found the island uninhabited, but possessed with an abundance of trees and fresh water. Since its founding in 1502, most armadas stopped at the island to collect water, but kept its location secret and off the maps.

The ship returning to Brazil in 1516 and carrying our man Fernao Lopes, stopped at St Helena. Portugal was not far away, a few more months of sailing. But for some reason or the other, Lopes lost heart. Perhaps it was his severe disfigurement, perhaps it was shame of being a convicted traitor, perhaps it was a feeling that he would never be accepted by his wife and son, and it appears that Lopes slunk away from the ship and into the forest in Helena. The ship’s captain, quite fond of the poor soul, had a search carried out, but of no avail. Leaving behind a good amount of food, the ship sailed away to leave Lopes marooned on the island. The captain nailed a note to a tree that the island now had a Portuguese inhabitant and that he should not be harmed.

There Lopes remained in complete solitude, for close to 14 years, living in a cave he dug out painfully, all by himself. His existence on the island was known to other Portuguese ships that passed by and many left behind some supplies for the hapless man, but nobody was able to sight him in the years that followed. Once a rooster was found by Lopes swimming ashore and it is said that the two became fast friends, his only living companion for a number of years. Other accounts state that when Lopes disembarked off the ship on his own accord he was accompanied by one or more slaves, Javanese or Indian, though serious studies discount these men Fridays and talk only about Lopes’s solitary life in self-exile.

Quoting Clifford - And in place of the fellowship of his kind, which he thus renounced, of the comradeship of men who had used him cruelly, he sought solace in silent converse with Nature, the great mother. The inviolate forest towered above him; the untrodden beaches lay at his feet; no voices spoke to him save the cries of seafowl, the songs of birds hidden in the foliage, the busy notes of countless jungle-insects, and the sob of the sea breaking the sob of the sea breaking monotonously upon the deserted shores. …... A sorry wreck of humanity this, an object for the commiseration of any who had seen him, but happy at last because he had won freedom and a kind of sovereignty… The beasts, more kindly than men, would do him no dishonor; more docile than his fellows, they would accept him for their king.

How he lived and survived provided fodder for many fiction pieces and novels which became popular, one potential among them the 1719 work ‘Robinson Crusoe’ by Daniel Defoe (Defoe never confirmed this, though Lopes’s story was known in those days).

So much about the Hermit of Helena, though his story is not over, as yet.

Somewhere around 1530, as the story of Lopes was gaining popularity in Lisbon, another castaway appeared on the island, a Negro boy who as you can imagine, eventually came into contact with Lopes. They did not quite hit it off and when the next ship docked at Helena for water, this boy ran up and told the ship’s captain about the disfigured hermit. There are many inconsistencies to the tale actually since a few mention that the slave was always with Lopes, while others say that he had fled a ship which docked much later and come across Lopes the hermit, but not hitting it off with the old bloke. Anyway Lopes was captured by the Portuguese and some books mentions a meeting between the chief Justice Teixeira who was on the ship and Lopes following which it appears a promise was made that Lopes would be left alone. More food, livestock and seeds were left behind for the hermit of Helena. With that event started the formal seeding and colonization of the fertile lands of Helena by this lone colonizer. Lopes planted fig, mulberry, apple and mango trees, so also palm, pomegranate, orange and lemons, and peach on the Island’s soil, very soon making it a veritable isle of Eden. Many goats were also reared by him.

Ships which passed by thereafter were able to replenish their holds with fresh fruit and the fame of the one handed hermit Lopes, spread further in Portugal.  Many a sailor tried to convince him to return home, but that was something he had no plans of doing. Around 1521, a change of guard had occurred in Lisbon, when Manuel died and a young Joao III took over the throne. Joao and Catherine his wife expressed a desire to see Lopes and he was thus ordered to sail to Lisbon. The disheartened Lopes had no choice, he sailed off in one of the returning ships to meet his king and queen (There is also another theory that he went to Lisbon to discuss and seek protection, due to a fear of a potential French occupation of Helena). As the story goes, he did meet them in the middle of the night, and interestingly, he next proceed to Rome via Naples to meet the pope Clement VI

Now that was an oddity. Ordering a papal meeting for a common man, a convicted soul? It was apparently needed for a complete absolution of Lopes’s sins. Lopes' crimes were apostasy, having abandoned the true faith, and having taken up arms against it. These crimes were categorized as special, and absolution for them could only be granted by the pope himself or a cardinal acting for him. Perhaps Lopes requested this absolution and Joao arranged it. Anyway, the Pope and he met and the former heard his confession. He also issued a letter asking for Lopes to be sent back to Helena and not be troubled henceforth. Experts explain that such a letter was required because Joao had forbidden New Christians from leaving Portugal.

Did Lopes meet his wife and son? We do not know, but he returned to St Helena towards the end of 1531.We are now getting to the final part of his story. His first, last and only letter surfaces in history books as he writes to King Joao in 1538 asking for a slave, to help build shelters on the island. He also requests that the slave’s payment be taken care of by the state.  Lopes continued his life on the island for eight more years, and we hear of his passing in 1546, aged 66. With that he had lived in total solitude on the island of St Helena for all of 30 years. I do not think anybody else has ever experienced so much of isolation nor has I believe, such an event occurred in this earth, ever again.

We do not know what happened to his rooster, but both these creatures figure in a stamp released by St Helena as you saw above. Whether he was buried there or not is also not known, but Lopes passed into the obscurity thereafter and was buried instead in the writings of Correa, Barros and a few others the works (listed under references) of whom are perused only by curious history buffs.

Sadly with no controls and oversight, the goats which were on the island multiplied and ravaged the cultivated trees and plants in the intervening years. The glorious fruit trees of Helena perished and it was a wild and uninhabited place once again, with no master in control.

Sir Francis Drake probably rediscovered the island on the final leg of his circumnavigation of the world (1577–1580). Further visits by other English explorers followed and, once Saint Helena’s location was more widely known, English ships of war began to lie in wait in the area to attack Portuguese India carracks on their way home. Thomas Cavendish visited the island in 1588. In 1645, the Dutch colonized it, and by 1651 the EIC had moved in and after further skirmishes with the Dutch in 1672-3 was repossessed by the British. A few other dignitaries like James Lancaster and Johan Nieuhoff graced its shores, and in 1677 Edmund Halley more famous for the Halley’s Comet visited the island to observe the skies, but was unhappy with too many clouds blocking his view. In the later 17^th Century it was made a requirement for all ships trading with Madagascar to deliver one slave to St. Helena, and during the 18^th century as the East India Company expanded around the Indian Ocean more slaves began to be brought in from Malaysia and India.

Many others passed the island by, for it was the only watering hole for sailors scouring the oceans. A small homestead had sprung up in Jamestown, but a narration of the comprehensive history of St Helena is not our objective and so we will not get into all that. We will go over a little nugget though. In 1805, Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington sailing by, stayed at the Briar’s pavilion, while returning from India. Perhaps he was struck by the islands isolation. During that visit he nearly lost his life while boating back to his ship, as the boat capsized and the drowning Wellesley who did not know swimming was saved by a common sailor. Wellesley went on to become a great man, defeating the French general Napoleon in the battle of Waterloo, 10 years later. Napoleon was thence exiled to Helena.

Of Napoleon’s lonely stay in Helena, much has been written and will not be recounted here, but for a recap. The French emperor was sent to Helena and not America as he had hoped, the British did not want a repeat of Elba from where he had escaped during a previous exile. 300 years after the arrival of Lopes, Napoleon arrived at St Helena in 1815 and stayed initially at the very same Briar building which had housed his nemesis Wellesley. He then moved to another home, the Longwood house and died there 6 years later, suffering from stomach cancer, was initially buried at the Sane Valley, until the French were given permission to have his body moved to Les Invalides in Paris, nineteen years after his death. But one thing is for sure, he was never as lonely as Fernao Lopes.

In the early and mid-19th century, the British Royal Navy patrolled the African coast to intercept slave ships bound for America. More than 26,000 slaves on board slaver ships were taken to St. Helena from 1840 to 1872. Between 5,000 and 8,000 died after their ordeal on the seas and were buried on the island. Several hundred liberated Africans eventually integrated into St Helena's population while others were sent to Sierra Leone.

You may not realize it, St Helena is still a remote place, accessible only through a long naval voyage. The first airplane landed there on 15 September 2015, and today is open only to private flights. Helena is more than 1,950 kilometers (1,210 mi) west of the Cunene River, which marks the border between Namibia and Angola and 4,000 kilometers (2,500 mi) east of Rio de Janeiro. If you ever feel bored or immensely lonely, just think of Lopes, Helena and 30 years. That one thought will chastise you.

It is still one of the remotest locations of our world, but if and when you go there, and if you had read this little tale in its entirety, you will over a dinner while sitting and admiring the oceans waves, be able to talk at length about Fernao Lopes, the hermit who single-handedly colonized St Helena, and regale your dinner companion.

References

Fernão Lopes - a South Atlantic 'Robinson Crusoe' - Beau W. Rowlands

The earliest exile of St Helena – Hugh Clifford, Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine - VOL. CLXXIII. Jan-Jun 1903, pp 621-633

The Other Exile - AR Azzam

Castaway - Yvette Christiansë

Notes

A soldier of fortune is a mercenary, a person who works as a soldier for any country or group that will pay them. Thesaurus also defines him to be a person who independently seeks pleasure, wealth, etc., through adventurous exploits. I cast Lopes as a soldier of misfortune, for the following reason. King Manuel had formally notified Albuquerque that deserters were to be pardoned and paid off, but in the case of Lopes, Albuquerque did not follow his king’s order. He wanted to set a severe example by mutilating the young man and destroying his life, but perhaps there was some underlying personal animosity between them since Lopes had not helped Albuquerque in Africa during the 1506 incoming voyage and had instead sailed off directly to Cochin. Funnily, the unfortunate Lopes succeeded not only in meeting and getting recognized by the Portuguese royals by dint of his own efforts, but also in getting a papal audience, all of which would, if Albuquerque were alive, have given him a cerebral palsy.

Fernao Lopes is the archaic Portuguese spelling of this bloke’s name. His name is also recorded as Fernando Lopez, but this person is not the same as Fernao Lopes de Castaneda, who was a writer.

Several decades ago, during the early 90’s or the Microsoft DOS age, unknown to many today, we had a fascinating screensaver about a marooned man. The screensaver depicts a man, Johnny Castaway, stranded on a very small island with a single palm tree. The screensaver follows a story which is slowly revealed through time. Johnny fishes, builds sand castles, and jogs on a regular basis, other events take place, such as a mermaid or Lilliputian pirates coming to the island, or a seagull swooping down to steal his shorts while he is bathing. Johnny repeatedly comes close to being rescued, but ultimately remains on the island as a result of various unfortunate accidents. I doubt if Fernao Lopes spent his days in that fashion, but the screen saver (today available as a video on youtube) will give you some perspective, on a castaway’s life.

Pics – Benastarim fort. Cunha armada, Goa map – Wikimedia, Helena painting - Mary Evans Picture Library/Alamy

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