Fixing the pump in Hoskote

 Fixing the pump of the borewell

Pump nahi chaal rahe hai!

Nearly 35 years ago the first borewell was sunk in Hoskote. We knew that without a regular water supply we could not start any planting of the orchard I wanted. So one night after the water diviner had marked the spot where the bore had to be dug, Bonny and Dad went off to stand and watch it happening. Sadly I could not go as I had baby Steven to look after.

Must have been exciting to see the machine hit water at barely 80 feet back then. Then they kept drilling upto 300 feet and stopped. When the plume of water bloomed out with great force, jetting up into the skies, Dad shouted with excitement he said and was sad I was not present to see it happen. After that the farm started taking shape beginning with all the broken bucket fruit trees Dad had collected in Hayes Road. We hired the next door farmer to water the young trees and because all around root vegetables were being grown, Kanikraj with his home made gun roamed the land shooting the rabbits which were found in plenty. 

The pump has to be left on day and night as the government gives us electricity only at certain time of the day. Could be @ 2 am or could be at 1pm. So the pump has to be left on to pump whenever the electricity comes. That's the reason for problems occurring says Shyam the neighbour on the other side. Yes! we get free electricity, but we suffer on the other side with burned out motors and pumps.

 

Fighting the tenants in Goa

                                                             Fighting the tenants in Goa

As absentee landlords in Goa we face terrible issues of trying to assert our rights on the land belonging to our ancestors. Originally our ancestors lived on the land and in a house, they had built, but slowly over time, their children did not want an agrarian lifestyle and so left for greener pastures. My Grandpa Hipolito was one such landlord who left for Nairobi to find his fortune. He was educated and decided to be an accountant and not a farmer anymore.

Can you imagine our shock to see what they have done??

The heirs of the original tenants who were meant to till the land not "grow" double storied buildings and join the panchayat decided to split the large property between the four of them! Lucky the talati of the village alerted me knowing we two old souls keep coming to look after and maintain the ancestral house in Furtavaddo. The talathi had filed SIX cases with the deputy collector and so we decided to jump in and fight back when we heard the crazy value the land had gone up to.

Stylish double story building, demolishing our family home by half.

I stood in the Deputy Collectors office, armed with just the form 1x14 showing Dad's name as owner. I was trembling but resolute. Six of them stood there with their lawyers.  I spoke up when their lawyers loudly proclaimed that they had come to 'regularise' the building! I promptly intervened, by now angry at their gall to build on land which did not belong to them. I spoke to the Deputy Collector saying " My father tried to settle with them for years, he was a Wing Commander in the IAF and tried through the ministry -- I have letters to prove it. I know, I saw all the documents Dad had drawn up and flying down from New Delhi to fight, poor guy." Today I have a legal inventory with which to fight them. 

Look at how they have broken down our ancestral house on the land   

I showed the Deputy Collector the photos I had taken. Thank God for phones today. He is a young IAS officer and immediately saw the injustice happening. He rang his bell several times and called in his staff. I want a show cause notice issued he said very calmly. Next hearing -- on --- date. See that the notices go out today. This is agricultural land -- I need an explanation."

I was trembling with his response. I knew here was an educated young man who could see us older folk fighting for our ancestral land. 

However, the fight is long and hard, and we cannot keep running to Goa. So, we spoke to Fr Valerian of the Saligao seminary who had linked us with a tough lawyer in Panjim. The case is on -- they are trying everything in the book to break us. I won't budge now, but staying in the house in Volvaddo is dangerous now. So, we live elsewhere when we go.

It's a fight, I won't give up. I understand now why my architect brother relinquished his share here and took Mums easy peasy house instead. But we are  Furtados--gauncars and I do not intend giving up in a hurry. No sibling help just threats and nothing to support us.  But I can hear the promises I made Dad on his death bed, and I hope we are able to stay their march forward and bring them to the negotiating table.  I am so grateful for the help my husband gives me. He need not, but he understands.

Hoskote in the rain!

 Look at the height of the lush grass in Hoskote

Jaffer was happy to see us on Tuesday instead of our regular Sunday visit. The grass is lush in the rains and Jaffer is happy because it will feed his flocks of goats. 

We were just back, running to Goa where we are fighting cases against Muncards who are squatting on valuable land is how we spend our trips to Goa. Now hiring lawyers will cut back on our rushing up and down to follow up cases, exactly like poor Dad did. It's scary for us older folk but someone has to do it, or all will be lost to the Ranes and Govekars, who are now squatting in the panchayat and rattling powerful swords against me.

I digress, back to happy Hoskote, I feel a sense of calm come over me when I walk among the trees we have planted in the last 35 years. The trees are all grafts and mature now, fruiting and keeping us busy selling the fruit.

Bonny taking out the ripe Nellie Kai 

It's a silly method as he rattles the branches with the fruit picker a friend gave me in the UK and the fruit fall all over old curtains we have spread out under the tree. Then the fruit plop down on the curtains and once we have taken out what we want, we gather up the ends and it's easy to slide the fruit into a bag to carry home. We took out around 1.5kg and in minutes when I put the picture up, it's bought by pickle makers! Small harvest as we have only one tree. Sadly my friend Keerti who loves to munch them fresh off the tree did not get any from this crop.

 

The ripe Nellie Kai which fall off onto the curtains

Bonny is happy taking out some mature chickoos too. We are going to get a massive crop from our 25 trees, so a tractor load of chicken waste has been ordered to feed the trees. It stinks and the farmers next door grumble, so I've decided to empty a load into the huge Rainwater pit which is dry and cover it with mud so the stink is contained. I bring small bags of it for the Hayes Road compost pit, but Robin cannot tolerate the stink he says! Look at the garden then! Its lush because of the compost!

A path in the red soil

The pump seems to have stalled so I'm helping Jaffer water the trees with water from the massive Rainwater harvesting tank. empty 5 litre bottles are filled, and we lug them to water the younger trees who are not mature yest to help themselves! A lot like little children, once they are around a year old, they are able to snake their roots to underground water pockets or aquifers or even as Jeff Dlemos told me -- underground rivers. Mainly butter fruit trees I have brought grafts from the Goa Duler nursery which Mr Dhuri, architect on my gardening group advised me to buy.

The Ashoka blooms straight from the branch

I had put down two Ashoka trees from the Hebbal nursery, and they bloom extravagantly in the rain. Strange bunches of vibrant orange flowers which pop out straight out of the branch or trunk. I saw a Redwood tree do that in Tennessee and was fascinated! The Ashoka is a medicinal tree and considered sacred. To me all trees are sacred and an integral part of the world we live in. Without trees we would all be dead but how many of us understand that?

The calm of our Bella Vista in Hoskote

 

The calm of our Bella Vista in Hoskote

Monstera brought by Dad from Shillong

We drive down early any day of the week to the farm in Hoskote. Its a little paradise for us after working on it and transforming it from barren to fertile. Today I spent my time carrying 5 litre bottles and watering the young fruit trees while Bonny picked star fruit. I am particular checking the young fruit trees which normally are gifts from various gardeners in Bangalore or Goa. They are all grafts and so we hope to see fruit in a couple of years.

Stange Shampoo Ginger flowering - brough in by the nurseryman caretaker.

A patch was put down by our nurseryman caretaker of what looked like regular ginger. They grew and last week I noticed the weird shampoo ginger flowers which sell for a good price in the flower market. Can you imagine my shock seeing these expensive flowers growing in abundance in the patch? Let them grow, then I'll see if Nikhil the St Joes Old Boy who runs a florist group would be interested. Or just sell it off my own organic group. I just put up stuff and it's sold in minutes.

Wild passionflower vines all over the acreage

What I enjoy in the fresh early morning trip is searching for wildflowers amidst the grass growing wildly now in the rains.  Jaffer the grass cutter comes in on his scooter, and I allow him to cut and take away large bundles of fresh and juicy grass which he sells to farmers with cows and goats. He cleans up the land for us for free and he earns by selling the grass. A sensible arrangement which we enjoy with strict rules about no stealing my fruit. The chickoos and dragon fruit have begun so I'm not happy if he steals them! 

Organic star berries 

Meanwhile Bonny put down sheets to pick star berries. I could hear him shaking the branches while the fruit plopped on sheets put down on which they dropped. A crude way of harvesting like they do Olives in Spain which I witnessed on my UNFCCC conference trips in Zaragoza. They had a machine that caught hold of the trunk and shook all the fruit off.  Instead, Bonny uses a long bamboo and whacks the fruit off or shakes the branch. Then there's a rain of fruit down on the sheets. I was busy checking the Jaffer limes and the young coconut trees. The Sour sop seedlings have shot up in the rain, and it swells my heart to see these babies grown from seed happily thriving in the red, fertile soil of Hoskote.

The only fruit which Ive not had success with is a papaya. Five years ago I did have success and grew a huge crop. Now its time to put down some seedlings and grow a forest of them like the Bashas next door. 

Driving back sipping the hot tea that I carry we are at peace. The flask is new, bought for me in the US by Andrew.  The tea is made with Dilmah brought by David from the UK and we think of our sons and chat about them as we drive home to Bangalore.