I grew up in rural Kerala, an idyllic verdant landscape of paddy fields, coconut groves and rubber plantations. Much of my early childhood was spent in the branches of mango trees, playing with friends in nearby farms or roaming the beautiful countryside on my own for hours on end. The summer holidays were magical and I have vivid memories of climbing the treacherous, slippery red tiled roof of our house in the monsoon to the great distress of my poor grandmother, my fertile imagination bringing to life Flash Gordon or the Phantom or Tarzan or the Lone Ranger or some such character from the most recent comic book I had read. It was a rustic paradise indeed for a young boy.
There was seldom traffic on the lone street that bisected the little village where I grew up. Often my brothers and I would run outside when we heard the familiar refrain “Ailasa” of labourers pushing heavy laden carts in the blistering mid-day sun. “Ailasa”, a heave ho chant in unison that they would grunt together, in response to the leader who would exhort them to “Unthu vandi” [push the cart], often punctuated by choice curse words as they toiled in the heat with the sweat rolling off their bare backs. “Ailasa” was the magic word that got the job done.
This song is a lament for these uncertain times we live in. “Too many times, too many mess ups”. But maybe, just maybe, if we all heave together in unison.... “Ailasa”....”Ailasa” ... just maybe......we can get the job done...

Unthu vandi Push the cart
Ailasa Heave ho

Parannu poyo Has it flown away
Avasana avasaram Our last chance
Parannu poyo Has it flown away

Marannu poyo Have we forgotten
Anandam anugraham Joy, blessing
Marannu poyo Have we forgotten

Too may times, too many mess ups, too many mess ups
Too may times, too many mess ups, too many mess ups

Unthu vandi Push the cart
Ailasa Heave ho
Othu pidi All together
Ailasa Heave ho

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