Opinion- Knowing who you are, who your ancestors are and where you come from can give you a sense of identity in this vast complex world.
You can find out if your family belongs to a particular faith and why, or discover where your family name comes from.
Learning your family history is a vital part of understanding yourself.
And during your search you might confirm something you always wondered about, or reveal something you never knew.
Creating and building a family tree lets you leave a legacy for your children or future kin.
Precious family memories that could be lost forever can now be kept alive from generation to generation.
Knowledge brings understanding. Learning more about the stories behind ancestor facts softens our hearts.
Names from the past become alive and real, with insights and lessons to teach the current generation.
Hearts softened by understanding bring people together.
Discovering the sacrifices and positive contributions our forefathers made to improve life for their family develops greater unity.
Instead of focusing on differences and contention, it becomes easier to focus on common ground and positive traits passed from one generation to the next.
It is with this in mind that I embarked on an interesting journey to find my roots in India, the Motherland.
The first step was to ascertain whether my grandparents came to South Africa as indentured labourers or as traders/passenger Indians.
I was lucky to find old documents belonging to my maternal grandparents.
The documents had indenture numbers and this made it easy for me to trace their roots as well as their journey from the Motherland to South Africa as indentured labourers.
The outcome of my search provided some interesting insights.
Both my maternal grandparents, Tiruvengada and Valliammal Pillay, came from a village called Siruvallur of the town Polur in the North Arcot district of Tamil Nadu.
Polur is 140km from Chennai and 35km from the famous Tiruvannamalai Temple.
My maternal grandparents arrived in South Africa in May 1908 on board the Umfuli X ship, which departed from the Port of Madras.
They were deployed to the Cecil Prospect Sugar Estate in Isipingo, south of Durban.
After their indenture was completed they purchased land in Umbumbulu Road, Malagazi, where my late mother was raised and also where I was born.
For many years I was determined to visit the village of my grandparents to find closure and to give meaning to my family tree.
Both my wife Nirmala and I than decided to go to India with this mission in mind.
After arriving in Chennai, I consulted with two friends, Nagu Nagendran and Ashok Kumar.
A taxi was booked and the journey begun. Both Nagu and Ashok accompanied us on this journey.
After driving through a number of towns and smaller villages with mostly single- lane roads where we had to stop a number of times to let cows and goats slowly pass, we arrived in Polur and made enquiries about the village, Siruvallur.
It was not difficult to find. On arrival we met a local councillor, who accompanied us to my ancestral village.
I immediately started making enquiries with mostly senior village leaders.
I had a photograph of my late grandparents, which I used in my quest to find some answers.
We were directed to possible “family” members.
I arranged for a meeting with them, young and old at the village temple.
During the gathering I explained the purpose of my visit.
I gave a detailed account of my late grandparents’ journey to South Africa and how they settled and adapted to their new home.
I shared photographs, which fascinated the villagers.
I spoke of the successes and the many challenges my grandparents experienced in their adopted country.
The elders were interested to know about all family members in South Africa, more especially their occupations and what they were presently engaged in.
The villagers were astonished when my wife sang devotional songs in the Tamil vernacular as they had a totally different perspective of Africa.
We were then taken on a tour of the village, which was a highlight of my visit.
The main occupation in Siruvallur was farming.
The cultivation of rice and turmeric were the main crops grown there.
Walking through the same roads where my grandparents walked and praying in the same temple where they worshipped was overwhelming for me and I became very emotional.
I borrowed a bicycle from one of the villagers and merrily rode through the streets of Siruvallur.
I took the reins of an ox wagon and manoeuvred through the rural landscape with great enjoyment.
My wife later told me that I became uncontrollable. But then it is not often that one gets to visit one’s ancestral village.
We concluded our visit to Siruvallur by partaking in a simple meal, which was bought from a small village food outlet.
As we proceeded to leave, we were given some sweetmeats to take back home for our children.
It was indeed a sad moment when we finally departed from “my” village.
But I will surely visit again with other family members, maybe to attend an annual village festival dedicated to the presiding village deity, Govinda.
My next journey will soon begin as I have recently traced the roots of my paternal grandparents, who originated from a village called Sholingur, also in the North Arcot district in Tamil Nadu.
POST