Soul of India : Part 8

Hyderabad: The laid-back city that it was, in the 1980s and early 1990s, possibly a hangover of the Nawabi culture, where Sundays were like curfew for shops, and where on other days shops opened at 11 AM, still defined as morning! Easy life, great weather except the summer days, wonderful and warm people, and great food across. The city I had made my home for about 8 Years, from Feb 1986 to Nov 1993, as I ventured into the field of Engineering and IT.

Hyderabad took a while to catch up to the IT boom, but catch up, it did! Today, it is a sprawling city, the radius of which is much larger than Bangalore, population of about 1.1 Crores from the 25 lakhs of the 80s, an exotic mix of high rise, branded eateries, massive jewelry shops, luxury cars, public transport, and a renewed and refreshing Tank Bund on the Hussain Sagar Lake with a brand new Secretariat. It has still managed to preserve its old word charm, warm people, great food, and a mix of Hindi, Telugu, and Urdu culture, and hosts numerous music and dance programs, each year.

Well, how is this connected with the Soul of India? Am I diverging from that to modern day development?

During my recent visit, I met Dr Mohanan, a PhD in English with a long corporate career across companies, whom I was introduced to, about a year back. This was our first meeting in person, and to me, it was like I had met a long-lost friend. A warm gentleman, at heart an established Hyderabadi, I also met his wife, Madhavi briefly, at their center called Ananya.

Ananya is fully dedicated to early intervention with children with autism and has five centers across the city. More on that, as a separate article.

Dr Mohanan insisted that I visit his farmhouse, I was short of time since I had to catch the evening flight back, but then, we decided to spend some time there. On the way, we stepped into his beautiful house, built with great care, met his sons, a dog, and some more guests. And then we had a quick traditional lunch at a wayside eatery.

His farmhouse venture started about 16 years ago, via organic farming, fully free of pesticides and chemicals. It was his research around autism that led to this; It has been found that one of the major reasons for autism related issues is the poisonous food we eat.

The travel time was about an hour. We stepped into beautifully constructed roads, bordered with a long stretch of bicycling path, its top covered with solar panels, and then meandered through well-built country roads, the sides of which were occupied by a series of Engineering and Medical colleges.

As we took the last stretch, an off road, to his farmhouse, that was about 5 KM from the Main Road, I started to get a glimpse of the Old Hyderabad or shall I say, heartlands of India. A series of dry lands and farms greeted me. I noticed that the soil was Black Cotton, not unusual for an area that is supposed to have formed via high volcanic activity. And one where rain is sparse. I expected mostly cotton as crop but was surprised.

Long stretches of paddy fields greeted me along the way. This was harvesting season, so most farms here were in that mode, and I saw a few large harvesters along the way. Paddy needs plenty of water, so I would assume that this was a cyclical crop, planted just before the rains, and harvested right after.

What followed was a mix of chilly crops, corn farms, mangroves, cabbage, horse grams, more cotton, more paddy, jawar, and more mangroves. The village also produces plenty of beetroots and carrots.

I also noticed that they had implemented some form of drip irrigation, via a series of crisscross pipes. I would guess that most water came from deep borewells, since Hyderabad is at an elevated altitude. I saw a few of the labor in the field, so I guess the work is a mix of humans and machines now.

In contrast with the vast paddy and banana plantations in Tamil Nadu, and the hectares of paddy that I saw in coastal Andhra, these were smaller farms. But farms they were, and I am sure whoever owns it is not just doing it as a hobby, and it has some commercial outcome.

I also saw a few boards that advertised weekend retreat, which I guess is a need for the city dwellers, to refresh and recharge themselves, and stay away from the hustle and bustle of the city and connect with nature.

As we reached closer to his farmhouse, he asked me if I was afraid of dogs. Well, I tried to keep a straight face, not realizing what was in store!

As I stepped into Dr Mohanan’s farmhouse, I was greeted by several dogs of various shapes and sizes. My straight face became poker, he understood, these dogs were like his children, and he managed to keep them away from me, via simple instructions. All the dogs were rescued dogs, he and his family had made serious efforts to do so, and it is no wonder that they treated him like their parents!!

The dogs are named Snoopamma (the German Shepherd), Zues, Zimba, Kalamma, Mottamma, Sundaran, Kalu, Langudu and Chottamma. All the ammas are girls.

What an amazing amalgamation of humans, animals, plants, and trees, all living together in a harmonious way, in a sort of self-contained eco system.

I spent about 45 minutes at his farmhouse, not enough to experience it, but sufficient to get a glimpse . The farmhouse is mainly mangoes, about 15 varieties that includes alphonso, peddha rasalu, chinna rasalu, suvarnarekha, himayat etc. Guava, sitafal, lemon, mulberry, figs, sappotta, and a whole lot of leafy vegetables and other vegetables like eggplant, tomatoes, brinjal and chillies are also grown there.

Well, it was time to head back to the airport. He drove me back, we parted, it was truly a joyful meeting, the memories of which I still savor. I made a vow that I would go back and spend a few days living at his farmhouse, and Dr Mohanan was truly happy when he heard that.

The charm of any society is its warmth to other humans, and to other living beings. A metro becomes soul-less, as it grows and expands, and focuses more and more on business and money. I was happy to experience otherwise, in a city, called Hyderabad, that still has managed to retain its old charm, and in some sense, preserve agriculture at its periphery. I promise to experience that aspect and write it in much greater detail, as I go and spend a few days at the farmhouse, soon.

Stay tuned…

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