Gone are those days, when elders in the family, treated their child’s illness with vegetables.
Chennai :
Gone are those days, when elders in the family, treated their child’s illness with vegetables. It is believed that the disconnection from the traditional food culture has made the present generation unaware of the nutritional values in the native vegetables. Therefore, alternative medical practitioners through their campaigns at workshops and symposia on the native food system are attempting to bring awareness among people on the possibilities of curing several ailments just by putting them on a diet of native raw vegetables.
“From a vegetable vendor, you demand a ‘fresh’ bunch of mint or coriander leaves. But, is it not an irony that what you buy fresh is dead after you cook? While cooking is nothing but an act of ‘killing’ the nutrients of a vegetable, why should you prefer it to be bought fresh?” asks BK Arunprakaash, a vegetable consultant, who runs Yogeshwar Vegetable Clinic in Coimbatore.
Photo: U Rakesh Kumar
Arun, who treats diseases by prescribing appropriate diet patterns to his clients, points out that consuming raw vegetables provides a cure to several ailments. He displays a list of 12 different vegetables and the method of having each of them.“The banana, coconut and lemon, which we offer to the deities, are capable of bringing a change in a person’s behaviour.
I would say that our native vegetables have something more than nutrition. I have examined the impacts on a patient after making him consume raw native vegetables as brinjal and drumstick and the foreign ones like cauliflower and carrot. Then, I discovered that the former’s effect on the person was greater than that of the latter,” says Arun.
Citing a case study, he says, “A boy, who had been using offensive words in his language, gradually turned out to be polite after having raw snake gourd regularly.”Sixty-year-old Manivannan, a retired professor, and one of the clients of Arunprakaash says, “I was suffering from acute back and joint ache and I took certain allopathic medicines prescribed by doctors. However, they had only temporary effects on the disease. Later, when I consulted Arunprakaash at his clinic, he suggested that I have raw copra and vaazhaikaai (plantain) regularly. I followed the diet strictly, and now I am totally relieved of back and joint pains.”
Reminding the origin of the expression ‘Goodbye ‘as ‘God be with you’, a greeting of concern when a person takes leave of the other, Arun says, “In our society, many hardly know what is behind the custom of presenting a lemon to a person at the point when he sets out for a journey. During his travel, he may experience an unexpected physical hazard. At that point, let him have a full lemon with its peel. It saves his precious life. This is the truth behind the presenting of lemon.”
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by B. Meenakshi Sundaram / Express News Service / November 16th, 2018
Toda men walking to their village in Udhagamandalam | Photo Credit: K. K. Mustafah
Traditional knowledge is not just about medicinal plants, it is also about ecology too
Reminiscing about the past brings no faraway look in 60-year-old Nanjan Ginbantan’s eyes. The Irula tribesman’s face is animated as he recounts the vast colonies of vultures he would see even 40 years ago. “If you clapped your hands, hundreds would rise into the sky from these trees,” he says.
It was a common sight near his village, Anaikatty, which borders the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve near Masinagudi in Tamil Nadu. “Forty years ago, there were at least 500 to 1,000 vultures here. Three months ago, which was when I last sighted some, there were just 20 circling in the sky.”
“What do you think caused the decline?” asks Chandrasekar S., a naturalist studying vultures, as his colleague Rangaswamy M. video-records the conversation.
Vulture nesting sites, says Ginbantan, have decreased drastically. “For example, the 6-10 nests we always saw in Siriyur village till 2014 are no longer there.”
Ginbantan has other interesting insights into vulture behaviour. It’s not vultures, but crows that find carcasses first, he says; vultures note the aggregation of crows and then fly down to the dead animal.
Interestingly, researchers in Kenya discovered a similar system of ‘information scrounging’ by Gyps vultures (species of the same genus are seen near Ginbantan’s village too) four years ago, where vultures locate carcasses by borrowing information from scavenging eagles.
Muddy boots
Ginbantan’s intimate knowledge about the vultures of Masinagudi, passed down over generations or gathered from experience, is what Chandrasekar and his team are mining as part of the Sanctuary Nature Foundation’s Mud on Boots project that is trying to understand the decline of vulture population in the Nilgiris.
Irula shepherd Nanjan Ginbantan talks about vultures | Photo Credit: M. Sathyamoorthy
This is one of several such projects across India where researchers are documenting traditional environmental knowledge held by indigenous communities in order to use it to conserve ecosystems and species.
The stereotype that traditional knowledge is only about medicinal plants and alternative healing is being challenged now. Scientists have begun to recognise that it also includes ecological and eco-geographical knowledge. It was this wealth, for instance, that the British tapped into to identify new places and cultures, plants and animals as they colonised the country.
First accounts
In the late 19th century, Muduvans and Kadars (indigenous communities of the forested areas of the southern Western Ghats) served as guides to the British who surveyed the Anamalai Mountains to identify the best valleys and hillslopes for tea and coffee plantations. Botanists and zoologists likewise sourced information from local communities for some of the first accounts of India’s flora and fauna.
Today, new species are still being identified like this: the only tree crab of the Western Ghats (Kani maranjandu), officially described just last year, was already known to the Kanis of southern Keralaand is named after them.
Traditional ecological knowledge often includes culturally-transmitted beliefs, even encompassing the relationship of living beings (including humans) with one another and with their environment. For example, assessing the traditional knowledge of 40 fishing communities along the east coast of Tamil Nadu, scientists of the Botanical Survey of India and other institutes found that the communities have a complex classification of diverse sea grasses, which takes into account their role in the marine ecosystem. Many seafaring and tribal communities also do not harvest resources from specific areas designated sacred, which helps preserve biodiversity.
Some communities have also used this knowledge to ‘manage’ biodiversity. In Arunachal Pradesh, scientists who documented the traditional soil knowledge of the Adi community found that the tribes could identify nine different types of soil, based on texture, colour and location. Adi farmers use this knowledge to manage soil erosion and fertility in diverse ways — such as using logs to prevent soil erosion or cultivating certain crops only in specific locations. Yet, the cultivation system of the Adis, shifting or jhum cultivation, is only viewed as ‘unsustainable’ because it involves clearing forests.
The Todas of the Nilgiris in Tamil Nadu also used to manage high-elevation shola-grasslands, where they live. They would protect the sholas, small patches of evergreen woods, and burn nearby grasslands to foster fresh growth for their Toda buffaloes, a strategy that stopped after the shola-grasslands were afforded official protection. Recent interviews with Todas reveal that despite the conversion of surrounding lands into plantations (of exotic pine and acacia) and farms, the Todas still hold on to some of their traditional socio-ecological knowledge. Their preference for a shola-cum-grassland landscape continues.
“Grasses give wetness to the earth,” says Pol Kwair, 71, a Toda tribesman who lives near Glenmorgan. “And the native trees give us this water back through streams. Exotics don’t,” he tells Chandrasekar.
Toda tribesman Pol Kwair displays native plants | Photo Credit: M. Sathyamoorthy
Indigenous wisdom is also strict about adhering to sustainable harvests and resource use. In Kerala, for example, the Malasar tribe of Parambikulam Tiger Reserve follows an interesting custom during wild tuber harvesting. The tubers are harvested from only one hill in any given year, says Mahali Thangavelu, a Malasar tribesman from Sungam Colony in Parambikulam. “The harvested plants would be re-harvested. The next year, the tubers on another hill would be harvested,” he says.
However, no one remembers these traditions now because they no longer depend on wild tubers, says Thangavelu. Kwair echoes a similar concern. “We know where to find different types of grasses and shola trees, and their specific uses,” he says. “But the younger generation is not interested. Modernisation has changed the need to learn.”
So much lost
So how much of such knowledge is being lost? A recent analysis of 92 studies on indigenous knowledge systems from around the world showed that 77% of them reported a loss of wisdom, driven chiefly by globalisation, modernisation and market integration. A recent review of 92 studies on local and indigenous ecological knowledge from across the world reports a loss of wisdom driven chiefly by globalisation, modernisation and market integration.
Moreover, most traditional knowledge is passed down by word of mouth, including via songs and stories. In 2012, scientists examined the co-occurrence of linguistic and biological diversity in areas with high plant and animal species diversity. They found that the extremely biodiverse areas of the world, including the Western Ghats and north-eastern India, account for 70% of all languages on earth: languages that are unique, often endemic, and facing extinction. Preserving linguistic diversity is crucial for preserving biological diversity — when languages go extinct, so does ecological knowledge.
Dynamic tradition
But seeing this only as ‘lost knowledge’ downplays the ‘dynamic’ nature of it, say recent studies. For instance, the invasion of lantana is a fairly recent phenomenon in the Biligirirangaswamy Hills Wildlife Sanctuary in southern Karnataka. But scholars at Bengaluru’s Ashoka Trust for Research in Ecology and the Environment learnt from the Soliga tribals’ observations that it was the forest department’s ban on the use of fire, after the area was declared protected, which encouraged the growth of lantana and other dense vegetation.
“My interactions have taught me that ‘tradition’ is a dynamic process, evolving and adapting to requirements, changing times and ways of thinking and relevance,” says Manish Chandi, senior researcher, Andaman and Nicobar Environment Team, who has studied indigenous communities in the southern Western Ghats and presently studies the Nicobar islanders.
Traditional knowledge indeed calibrates itself to changing ecosystem, says Anita Varghese, deputy director, Keystone Foundation, which has been working with tribal communities around the Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve. One of their biggest successes has been in marketing honey collected by the tribes. The community is able to predict the volume, maturity and seasonality of honey, all of which contribute to sustainable ways of collection, says Varghese. “They have thumb rules for all these.”
Keystone has initiated a village elder programme in the hamlets of this area, where elders are encouraged to go for walks in the forest with children so that knowledge can be passed on.
Beyond inventory
For scientists, this information can be invaluable — from managing protected areas to conservation education, development planning, and environmental assessment. The Convention on Biological Diversity that India ratified in 2012 also recognises this, requiring nations to “respect, preserve, maintain and promote traditional knowledge” with the consent of indigenous communities.
Yet those working in this field often stop with just documentation. Inventories are a good beginning, but how we go beyond that is crucial, says Aarthi Sridhar, founder trustee of Dakshin Foundation.
“Seamlessly integrating traditional knowledge with science presents interesting challenges. For fishers, the kadal matha [sea goddess] might signify an explicitly cultural space and entity. Whereas for fishing science it can only be translated as the ecological system. What is the place of gods in understanding the sea scientifically? Or has this deliberately been lost in its translation?” asks Sridhar.
If we are a bit more accommodating, traditional knowledge can have a lot more relevance by accounting for various factors that are at play in the environment, says Chandi. “This is where science, or the art of science, can become important.”
Chroniclers such as Chandrasekar and his team say that their conversations have completely changed their perceptions about not just vultures but the landscape as well.
“White-rumped vultures usually nest on Arjuna [Terminalia arjuna, a deciduous species] trees,” says Chandrasekar. “Some Irula tribesfolk tell us that numerous Arjuna trees died in a drought last year. So have numbers of the vulture been affected too? Could exotic weeds that have spread dramatically over the past decades have a role to play? There are now so many more questions to ask and so much more to learn.”
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Sci-Tech> Environment / by Aathira Perinchery / November 10th, 2018
With the mid-day sun shining on her terrace, Anju Agarwal tends to more than 50 plants in her terrace garden, which includes varieties of spinach, tomatoes, carrots and beetroot.
Anju Agarwal has three terrace gardens in her house with over 50 plants Debadatta Mallick
Chennai :
With the mid-day sun shining on her terrace, Anju Agarwal tends to more than 50 plants in her terrace garden, which includes varieties of spinach, tomatoes, carrots and beetroot. Her house in Choolaimedu has three terrace gardens, each with a variety of fruit, vegetables and herbs.
“There isn’t a particular order to all the plants here. Other people usually have set rows and area. My plants are always interspersed, and I never know what I’m going to get from them. It’s always a surprise,” says Anju.
Her love for organic gardening began when she was 10 years old and living in her childhood home in Juhu, Mumbai. “We had a huge bungalow, and we maintained a kitchen garden then. Ever since then, my father never used urea or any other chemical. We used cow dung and bone meal. Our bottle gourds would be a foot or a foot-and-a-half long!” says the 52-year-old. After her marriage in 1993, she moved to Chennai, at a time when it was difficult for her to find the right tools to start her organic kitchen garden.
In 2007, her parents-in-law fell ill and needed her constant attention. “At that time, I was stressed. I turned to gardening as it was the only thing I knew, and it became a source of joy for me,” she says. She then attended a meeting for gardening enthusiasts and she made two friends with whom she set up The Organic Garden Foundation, which holds conventions on organic farming and produce, all over the city. Now, Anju sells organic soaps made using the produce from her garden.
“A lot of people look at what their plant needs, not what the soil needs. The soil has to be healthy. I recommend people concentrate on soil. Once a plant’s cycle is over, I take out the soil, wash the container, leave the soil out in the sun for ten days, and add nutrients to it,” she says. She also recommends rotating vegetables, as different plants require different nutrients, which are depleted from the soil and needs to be replenished. For example, after growing a vegetable like okra, she grows spinach as it restores nitrogen in the soil.
Anju spends time testing and trying out the current trends in organic farming that she finds on the internet, and noting down the results in a diary. She is currently trying organic hydroponics and a composting method by Dr Krishna Jargan.
Her container farm also grows Barbados cherries, figs and pomegranate. She also grows turmeric and chillies, which she dries and powders to use in her kitchen. Her husband Sanjay, who she says is a huge supporter of her passion, often checks the garden in the morning and evening. Surrounded by spring onions, cabbages, cauliflowers, papaya, bananas, guava, lemons and sweet potatoes, she uses a drip-feeding system that Sanjay installed to ensure her plants are taken care of.
For details, call Anju on 9941010441 or check her FB page, Anju’s Garden.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Rochana Mohan / Express News Service / November 14th, 2018
Vijayabhaskaran is another example to prove that not all heroes wear capes.
Vijayabhaskaran outside his tailor shop at Alwarpet | DEBADATTA MALLICK
Chennai :
Vijayabhaskaran is another example to prove that not all heroes wear capes. The 67-year-old tree warden — a public official in charge of shade trees on public town lands — has planted close to 150 saplings in and around Alwarpet to try and restore the green cover the area lost after the fury of Cyclone Vardah. The numbers may not be staggering but when you take into account the limited space in a congested city like Chennai, it would indicate his conviction and determination.
While he is used to putting his hands to good use — he is a tailor when he is not planting saplings in and around Chennai — he has gone over and above his calling to replenish the greenery. Though an officer of the State forest department (appointed two decades ago), he spends money out of his pocket to protect the environment.
“Every month I set aside Rs 3,000-Rs 5,000 to buy new saplings of rare trees that we do not find in the city anymore. Whenever I spot an empty space either on a sidewalk or near a house I make a mental note to plant a sapling there the next day,” he informs TNIE. Over the last 20 years, he has planted more than 10,000 saplings in parts of South Chennai. An average of 500 trees per year may not count for much but considering the hurdles he has to jump (lack of finances and no support from the local body), his contribution can’t be measured in numbers.
He doesn’t stop there. His pet projects include planting fruit-bearing tree saplings in neighbouring villages like Palur in Kancheepuram. “Last year, I took close to 50 students from Anna University to Palur. We planted 100 saplings in four hours. The saplings I planted 10 years ago now give the villagers a variety of fruits like mango, guava and coconut,” he beams.
His best work gently sways to the tunes of winds all over the city. Through an environmental NGO, Exnora’s tree-planting division, he has planted 350 tree saplings in 13 bus terminals across the city, at two temple tanks in Mylapore, close to 1,000 saplings in multiple city colleges, parks and along numerous footpaths at Kottupuram, Teynampet, Boat Club, RA Puram and neighbouring localities.
While he has planted more than 25 varieties of trees, he takes special care to plant native species like Poovarasu, Badam, Maghizham and Vembu, which are known for their resistance to natural calamities. He has also roped in students from NSS wings of many colleges in the city to assist him in the planting process. The next time you come across a rare or exotic tree in the city, you can thank Vijayabhaskaran, the unassuming senior citizen who plants and safeguards trees for a living.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Madhumitha Viswanath / Express News Service / November 09th, 2018
A Natural History of the Indian Sub-continent by Valmik Thapar, Walking the Himalayas by Levison Wood and Dervla Murphy’s books on touristy and travelling.
Lilian Jasper has co-authored the travelogue, Kenyan Odyssey (Photo | Nakshatra Krishnamoorthy)
Chennai :
Vaishali Vijaykumar It’s 9.30 am on a Monday. The college bell rings. We wait for Lilian Jasper, principal of Women’s Christian College (WCC), as she wraps up her English lecture. Soon, Lilian, draped in a pink silk sari with golden tree motifs, greets us with a warm smile. As we take a seat in her room, we notice a row of souvenirs and a stack of nature-themed books.
Classics like Land of the Tiger: A Natural History of the Indian Sub-continent by Valmik Thapar, Walking the Himalayas by Levison Wood and Dervla Murphy’s books on touristy and travelling. “I don’t believe in sight-seeing. I need to get on the field and experience the adrenaline rush. Traversing through rocky terrains, adventurous animal-spotting safaris and living with nomadic tribes give me the satisfaction of a purposeful trip,” shares Lilian, who has been a part of the institution since 1993. Lilian’s home is nestled in the lush green college campus that has 110 varieties of trees and several species of birds making frequent visits.
The biodiversity extends into her home as well, where she has set up her garden, which is dotted with orchids, water lilies and potted plants picked up during her various travels. Lilian’s in-depth interest in ecology combined with a flair for writing led her to start eco-literature in WCC in 2009. “This is a paper for English literature students. I’ve made it application-oriented with field trips and study tours to keep the students engaged. Kids these days might not be excited about rural trips or bird-watching sessions.
But, these are life-changing experiences. The itinerary usually includes a visit to the wildlife park, mountainous terrain or a tribal settlement. They’re expected to document the people they meet and the species they spot, so there’s no chance to bluff in their assignments. I’m thankful to Nirmal Selvamony, a pioneer in ecocriticism, who inspired me to take up this subject while I was a student,” she shares. An avid traveller, Lilian has taken her students to Parambikulam National Park near Top Slip, Kolli Hills on the western ghats, Kaziranga National Park in Assam, Rameshwaram’s fishing hamlets, Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary and Attapadi village in Kerala.
Before visiting, she reads about the place, its forest cover, unseen localities and tribal communities to make the best out of these trips. “Three years back we went to Dhanushkodi. We wanted to interact with the indigenous group to get a realistic perspective of their livelihood. A fisherman suggested we taste a fish fry made in their style. Freshly caught fish was flung into the fire and roasted with no spices. It was delicious. These instances teach us to go back to the basics.
The food was simple and it also nourishes your body,” she shares. “Apart from college trips, we have a team of five faculty members-cum-friends. We plan all-women trips and travel frequently. One such trip was to the Jim Corbett National Park. That was the first time I spotted the majestic creature — a tiger. It was close to a water hole, and suddenly jumped and stood in front of our jeep.
These experiences prepare you for long hours of trekking and untimely meals,” shares Lilian, who has co-authored the travelogue, Kenyan Odyssey. The book has vivid images clicked by Lilian about the species that lived in a forest in Tanzania, during her eight-day journey. “I’m a mountain person. The hills are a rich source of medicinal plants, sacred groves and endangered animals.
We often take faculty members from Zoology and Botany departments to help us identify the flora and fauna. These trips make you humble and expose you to the side of reality that you wouldn’t see in cities,” she says. Leh Ladakh, Netherlands, Ranthambore and Great Rann of Kutch are a part of her bucket list. She hopes to make eco-literature a compulsory subject for all students to inculcate the importance of ecosystem.
Memories
During our journey to Rameshwaram, we stumbled upon a group of women. They were sari-clad deep sea divers. They earn their livelihood by collecting seaweeds that grow along the coastline. Comfort zone was never a concern to them and they made no fuss about it. These were also the women who headed the panchayat and played a prominent role in the village administration.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Express News Service / October 09th, 2018
A village near Coimbatore was once an edible oil heartland, with every household owning an oil press. Today, only one man continues to operate it
Decades before edible oil became a mass-produced consumer product packaged in plastic bags, an entire village in Tamil Nadu depended on oil presses for a living. Some 30 years ago, almost every household at Kadampadi near Coimbatore had an oil press. There was a Government-run societyin the village that supplied families with sacks of groundnuts and sesame seeds to be pressed every week. Bullocks going in circles around the press, drawing a wooden shaft attached to it, the action grinding the nuts to a paste, was a common sight. Today, there’s only one man in the village operating an oil press.
A small board announces the sale of cold-pressed oil at the entrance of C Ramasamy’s house. Bordering a cornfield, it holds the last of the oil presses of Kadampadi. It is made of wood, but runs on electricity, unlike his father’s that was bullock-driven. “A bullock-operated chekku (press) needed two people to operate it — one had to control the bulls and the other had to keep scooping the groundnuts into the press,” recalls the 57-year-old. “I assisted my father as a little boy. I was usually positioned at the chekku while he controlled the bulls,” he says.
In the 1980s, there were 60 oil presses in the village. “We ground sesame seeds, groundnuts, neem seeds, coconut, and amanakku (for castor oil),” he remembers.
Seated on a string-cot, a wall separating us from the press that stands in a lime-washed room, we can smell the thick, nutty aroma. The floors are sticky and the walls by the press wear tell-tale oil splashes.
Ramasamy tumbles a tin of groundnuts into it and switches on the power. The press grunts to life — the gigantic wooden pestle crushes the nuts to a chocolate-coloured paste, tempting us to scoop some up to try. Ramasamy sprinkles water into it occasionally — “Otherwise, it will become powdery”. Within 20 minutes, clear oil collects by the pestle. We contain our excitement and ask with a straight tone — “That’s all it took to produce oil?”
Ramasamy smiles. “Yes. Groundnut oil tastes like ghee when sprinkled on dosai,” he offers. A kilogram of groundnuts will fetch 400 millilitres of oil. “For coconut, the same amount will provide 600 ml and sesame, 400 ml,” he explains. Ramasamy hasn’t finished school, but has studied the nuts and the oil they produce so well that he can tell by looking at the soil the quality of the crop it can grow. “I don’t buy nuts from places beyond Pollachi. Soil there is semi-white, and is not fertile for the crop I require. I stick to areas north of Kinathukadavu.”
Coimbatore ,the land of textile mills, was their chief consumer. “We supplied oil to the canteens of the mills in the region,” remembers Ramasamy. His father delivered them in tins on a bullock cart. A cart could carry 30 tins, each with a capacity of 16 litres. “In the 70s, 60 families registered with the Khadi Board-run Society and took turns to go to Tiruvannamalai to source the nuts,” he explains. “We travelled every week to buy on auction, and once back home, we divided them. Each family got seven sacks a week.”
Business thrived and people were happy. But as the big crude oil players entered the fray, they lost out. “Our customers switched to packaged oil and our presses shut down, one by one,” Ramasamy shakes his head. “Villagers turned drivers and mill workers.” In fact, Ramasamy himself called it quits and did odd-jobs to no success, and finally revived the craft he learned from his forefathers. “These days, people have renewed interest in chekku oil. A lot of youngsters stop by to buy my oil. Demand has gone up; this is a good sign.”
Ramasamy is suddenly overcome by emotion as he recalls his past. He gets teary-eyed and we gently remind him of our presence, asking for his cooperation for a photoshoot. Would he like to change into a dhoti? “No, this is what I wear to work,” he tells us, standing up in his oil-kissed shirt and shorts.
For details, write to krgoilmill@gmail.com, or call 8760927281.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Life & Style> Food / by Akila Kannadasan / September 27th, 2018
Mannargudi farmer shows an alternative to water-intensive crops
When K. Marimuthu decided to cultivate yellow marigold, a flower in demand for garland-making, instead of paddy in Mannargudi, situated in the Cauvery delta rice belt, other farmers warned that he was taking a risk.
“But I proved them wrong. I have harvested eight tonnes [of marigold] even though those who supplied the saplings predicted that the yield would be between three and five tonnes,” said Mr. Marimuthu, who has already started experimenting with cultivation of other flowers, including kozhikondai poo (hen’s horn flower), jasmine and sambanki (Magnolia champaca).
Garland-makers in Mannargudi regularly buy flowers from Thanjavur and Tiruchi. Mr. Marimuthu’s experiment fulfils local needs and the money needed for transportation is saved.
He also opted for drip irrigation and, in the process, saved about 80% of the water that would have been required for paddy cultivation. “The profit is also very high. I would have earned a maximum ₹20,000 per acre [cultivating paddy]. Marigold has so far earned me ₹1.5 lakh, after all the expenses, including labour, pesticides and fertilizers,” said Mr. Marimuthu, who buys saplings and manure from farmers in Hosur.
He planted 25-day-old plants and the yield began from the 60th day. Though marigold continues to yield for 120 days, he was able to extend flowering up to 145 days. “The only problem will be rain. We can save the saplings by giving them support, but flowers will not tolerate heavy rain. We will learn the art of floriculture through experiments,” he said, adding that a few farmers had already taken a cue from him and begun cultivating flowers.
Mannargudi MLA T.R.B. Raja, who has been advocating the idea of switching to alternative and less water-intensive crops, agreed.
Roping in experts
“Forget Cauvery water. Climate change is a major factor. Heavy dependency on water is not possible,” said Mr. Raja, who had already consulted experts from Israel and is planning to rope in their expertise in a big way.
He said there was a need to change the mindset of the people and farmers in the Needlamangalam area, who had successfully cultivated cotton crop, even though the workforce for plucking wasn’t adequate.
Reiterating that “precision farming” was the way forward, he said farmers who cultivated paddy in the Kovilveni area were waiting for the government to open procurement centres, and gradually fell prey to middlemen. “Heavy use of fertilizers for paddy has already killed the soil. Let us opt for alternative crops like millets, cotton and flowers. They will help replenish the soil,” he said.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> States> Tamil Nadu/ by B. Kolappan / Chennai – September 05th, 2018
SQUIGGLY DELICACY: The ayirai fish is usually sold in padi, a Tamil unit of measurement | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
A Tamil Nadu favourite, the native fresh-water fish has become rarer to find with the drying of the Vaigai river
At 7 am, inside Madurai’s Nelpettai fish market, 75-year-old K Bose sits on a cemented platform with two big aluminium basins in front of him. As he uncovers them, customers eagerly peek in. Inside the water-filled containers, a school of alive and active Ayirai fish (Lepidocephalichthys thermalis, also called common spiny loach) swim restlessly.
As the old man carefully ploughs a plastic bowl into the vessel, the jiggly squiggly mass of the worm-like fish lash their tiny fins and gambol around, some hopping out onto the floor, twitching for breath before being caught and let back into the water. “The major catch comes in from the Papanasam dam, apart from irrigation tanks in Cauvery Delta region. However, the ayirai from the Vaigai river and the ponds of the Sivanganga and Ramnad districts are considered the tastiest,” says Bose, who brings around 10 to 12 kilos of loaches every day from the town of Tirupuvanam.
“Ever since the Vaigai dried up, there’s been no ayirai fish in our meal,” says M Shenbaga, an expert home-cook. She recalls catching the fish in the Vaigai at Manamadurai in the ’70s, when the river was still flowing.
Ayirai Meen Kozhambu, signature dish of Amma Mess in Madurai. Photo: R. Ashok | Photo Credit: R_ASHOK
“During summers, the water levels in the river would go down and we used to set up a panai pari (a pot made of clay or bamboo that’s tied upstream, so that the loaches that swim against the current are caught in it) and by the evening, we’d take home a potful of ayirai fish.”
The fast dwindling population and the growing demand has made ayirai a pricey delicacy. “There are lots of specialities to this small fish, including the peculiar flavour and taste. Since, they live in the marshy bed of rivers, ponds and lakes, they are rich in mineral and the taste differs according to the soil type. It’s probably the only fresh-water fish that’s sold in padi (a Tamil unit of measurement) and not kilograms. They can live for days in containers if the water is changed daily,” says Bose.
Harvesting ayirai fish | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
One padi of the fish equals to about 1.25 kilograms and is sold at ₹3,000 at the Nelpettai market. S Sumathi of Amma Mess, buys about three kilos every day. The Amma Mess’ ayirai meen kozhambu is a brand in itself, without which Madurai’s food scene is incomplete.
“Our restaurant is often visited by celebrities, including politicians and film stars, and they never miss the ayirai curry. It’s a favourite of poet Vairamuthu,” beams Sumathi, who learnt the recipe from her mother-in-law. “Since, there’s no business of weeding out bones, it’s easier to eat for kids and old people, and is also a rich source of calcium.” The fish lends its unique muddy flavour to the curry and that gives the kick. With spicy reddish oil films floating on the top, the curry is thick and is typically eaten for lunch, mixed with white rice.
“Ayirai is always bought alive and is a robust fish that doesn’t die so fast. As part of cleaning before cooking, the fish is let to swim in either coconut milk or butter milk. As the fish thrives in the bottom of water bodies, they tend to have mud sediment in their mouth, which is removed when put in milk,” explains Shenbaga.
“Loaches are difficult to culture artificially. So far, there’s been only one instance of success where a fish farmer named Pugazhendi from Vaduvur in Thanjavur district has been able to raise ayirai as an inter-crop in ponds, along with keluthi and catla fish,” says K Karal Marx, Dean, Institute of Post Graduate Studies, Tamil Nadu Fisheries University, Chennai OMR Campus.
“Much needs to be researched on reviving the population of ayirai. Given the various unique features of the fish and their strong cultural connection to the State, we have given a proposal to the government from the Fisheries University to make it the State fish of Tamil Nadu.”
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Life & Style> Food / Madurai – September 03rd, 2018
Coimbatore 21/10/2012. A one megawatt scale grid-connected solar power plant commissioned by Swelect Energy Systems Limited under REC scheme at Kuppaepalayam near Coimbatore. The solar arrays are ground mounted with light sensing tracking systems for increasing output. Photo:K.Ananthan. | Photo Credit: K_Ananthan
Tastes better than bottled water: firm
Swelect Energy Systems Ltd. (formerly known as Numeric Power Systems Ltd.) has unveiled ‘Source,’ a hydro (solar) panel to provide pure drinking water using sunlight and air, said a top official.
“For this, we have partnered with U.S.-based Zero Mass Water,” said R. Chellappan, managing director, Swelect Energy Systems Ltd. “By using hydropanels, we are eliminating plastic and water waste of bottled and filtered water.”
Source is a combination of solar PV (photovolatic), material science and other technologies. It is a standalone product and can work anywhere — on top of the building or on the ground. It can be installed immediately. It doesn’t require any electrical input.
Absorbing water vapour
He said water vapour from air is drawn into Source through fans, following which special materials absorb the water. The vapour is collected as the air flow passes through a condenser, then flows into a reservoir where it is mineralised with calcium and magnesium. Water is pumped through a polishing cartridge before being delivered to a dispenser. “The water will taste better than bottled water and the total cost of ownership will be cheaper when compared with bottled water,” he said.
The price per panel will be ₹2 lakh and it will generate up to five litres of water per day depending on humidity and sunlight, he said. The panel would last for about 15 years. There is also a storing facility underneath a panel that can hold 30 litres.
“The product is very similar to solar PV. It is scalable and we can do one panel per home to 100 panels for a village,” said Robert Bartrop, executive vice-president– business development, Zero Mass Water.
Swelect plans to sell Source panels to government-run programmes on water, retail and institutional markets through its network of channel partners. The company will target primary health centres, schools, large villas, resorts and water-starved places.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Business> India / by N. Anand / Chennai – July 30th, 2018
It’s guava season now and here’s something new to try with this amazing fruit
At a recent wedding, there was a surprise element on our vazha yellais. A chutney made with green guava by a local caterer. An appetising green in colour, it was smooth, creamy and delicious. It had the sour flavour that one associates with chaat.
It is now a sought-after item at wedding feasts and the credit goes to Madhampatty Rangaraj for not just developing the recipe but for getting me to think about using the green guava as a veggie option.
The guava may have originated in Central America but after hundreds of years in the Indian subcontinent, it is considered local. When it comes to nutrition, the guava is to Asia what the apple is to the west. Guavas contain possibly the highest amount of Vitamin C present in fruits. They are equally rich in Vitamin A, manganese, which helps the body absorb other essecinal nutrients, and folate, which is necessary for conception and growth of the foetus.
Yet it is not a fruit that is found as often as some others at our homes. This may have something to do with the fact that it isn’t used much in cakes, pies or even salads. While I have heard of guava jellies, squashes and jams, I wonder how much of the actual fruit goes into making these condiments. Also given that these products are pink/peach in colour, they are probably made using the pink strawberry guava rather than the green, which are easier to find here.
The country variety ranges from a small one with dark green flesh to bigger ones that with a paler green exterior. I wasn’t too fond of the guava especially because of the seeds that wouldn’t break, no matter how hard they were bitten.
With guavas in season now and available everywhere here, the first dish I experimented with was, of course, the chutney. I didn’t want to ask the caterer for his secret recipe but going by the taste, I used onion, green chillies, tamarind, turmeric powder, rock salt and a few coriander leaves. In went the chopped guava, seeds and all, because discarding the latter meant losing so much flesh. Once it was all blended together, we had to strain the chutney. The smooth purée was tempered with dried red chillies, curry leaves and mustard seeds. One taste and I was supremely happy.
With the rainy weather we’re having, a warm green guava soup is next on the agenda. And a koyakkai rasam maybe?
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Life & Style> Food / by Shanthini Rajkumari / July 17th, 2018
