CHENNAI: There are some things in life that carry the weight of generations, a microcosm of centuries of civilisation. Be it the grandfather clock that found its way back to the living room from the attic or the manual printing press that’s survived in a nameless corner of your city, you need little to know that it comes with stories of its own. Within the confines of one’s home, offering such a repository of reminiscence (even if borrowed) and the chance to script fresh memories is the humble (if only by concept and not the price tag) oonjal (swing).
A universal architectural element, the oonjal has evolved into several subspecies and sister species over the years. Yet, in whatever form or shape, the space it has carved out for itself extends far beyond the realm of construction and complementary decor. For Mithuna Maran, a young architect, the oonjal is a primary element of her dream house; right up there with colour oxide floors (she can’t decide between red and yellow yet), rammed earth walls, Aathangudi tiles, and woven cane furniture.
“They say architecture is frozen music. So, everything is frozen in architecture. Amid such a set-up, the oonjal is about the only element that offers dynamics. It’s perhaps this aspect — this to-and-fro motion — that has us inherently attracted to the oonjal. We probably picked it from being rocked in a thottil as a kid. No wonder we associate the oonjal with sleep and relaxation too. Antha oonjal la aadum bothu t h o ok am varum paarunga…,” she trails off.
Thirupurasundari Sevvel, architect and founder of Nam Veedu, Nam Oor, Nam Kadhai, touches upon this aspect to point to the universality of this piece of furniture. “One beautiful thing about the oonjal is, it doesn’t have a place of origin. It can be seen in every other country. After it was a result of what humans gained and experienced and enjoyed from swinging off the vines hanging from trees. You can call it the oonjal, jhoola or swing.
It can be indoors or outdoors; it can have multiple purposes,” she points out. Nothing about Amudhan’s* wedding was conventional — it was a ‘love marriage’, he was ready to get married even before the family had found a suitable match for his elder brother, and the girl was a good four months pregnant on the wedding day. But, when the baby girl was born a few months later, he found himself reaching out for a tiny bit of convection — a thooli made of his mother’s sari.
For Mithuna, the bamboo chairswing was the place of recreation. It was the place her mother used to make calls, it was everyone’s favourite spot for TV viewings, and much more. For veteran photographer Balasubramnian GV, it isn’t oonjal without the solid wooden plank and ‘trusty’ iron chain. Having grown up with such opulent pieces at both his mother’s ancestral place and his father’s, he doesn’t get the same feeling of peace and tranquillity in the modern variations, he adds.
Swinging memories
The oonjal remains an object of legacy — a carrier of memories — for Shrishti Prabakar who reminisces about the one she grew up with at her grandmother’s house. The one that has seen five generations on her mother’s side. “It has been around for my great-grandparents, my grandparents, my mother and her cousins, and for my generations and the one that came after me. The wooden plank is four feet wide, good enough for two people to lie down on it.
The chain has beautiful peacocks fitting into it. My mother studied for her exams, sitting on that oonjal. Visiting the house as a kid, I used it to play with my cousins,” she narrates. Beyond its place in everyday life, it was its representation in art and literature that had Thirupurasundari fascinated. “There’s a scene in Kalithogai that involves a young man and woman, the latter sitting on the oonjal. The pre-scene goes something like there’s someone who comes by every day, he sees me, he appreciates my beauty and I, his. We lock eyes but he goes away without saying anything.
So, one day, I invite him to push my oonjal; he comes over and pushes the oonjal. I deliberately let go of the chain and fall on him. This leads us to start a conversation, she narrates. “Iyya! Sirithu ennai ookki”, I think, is a beautiful line. She is not only telling him to push the oonjal but invites him to push her love, push his emotions, put it forth. Solliden, en ivalo vekka padara...is what she is indirectly telling the man,” she points out, adding that the oonjal naturally fits into the landscape of Tamil literature.
Thamizh Iyalan, poet and director of I Am An IAS Academy, recalls what Sangam literature terms as oonjal paruvam. “There’s this literature called Pillai Tamizh. It categorises a child’s growing years in 10 parts, right from the time of birth. The tenth stage of a girl child is called the oonjal (or oosal) paruvam,” he explains. You sit the child down on the swing and talk about how special she is (that’s how the songs are designed). The design of the oonjal, the way the girl swings on it, every praise that is sung of her, and what the listener gathers from this — all this finds a place in this section.
On-screen grandeur
Bringing this frame of reference to contemporary times, the significance of the oonjal is not lost on the stories told on the big screen. Depending on the period of the film, who made it and who stars in it, the oonjal has signified — without need for a single word — authority, royalty, patriarchy, love, freedom, sadness, solitude and much more.
What stands out for Arunkumar Sekhar is, of course, Padayappa and Rajini’s titular character whipping open a locked up oonjal in a grand show of power and oneupmanship. Srishti refers to the song Konjum mainakkale and how it always conjures up the picture of Aishwarya Rai singing along while swinging on an oonjal (with elephant-masked men dancing around her). But Saranyaa Murkesh points to the song Thediye Thediye from Vaa Quarter Cutting.
“It’s a song of contrast. In the first half, with the woman all sad and gloomy, the metaphor they use for life is a child playing the see-saw and forced to go up and down. In the second half of the song, one oozing with joy and delight, the metaphor they pick for happiness is the oonjal of course! Oonjalil pillai pol adidum, pin vanthum munne pogum (playing like a child on the swing, stepping forward every time it swings back). What more do you need? Ultimately, isn’t this the basis (loosely) of the oonjal ceremony in Brahmin weddings?” she offers.
Lockdown demands
Increasingly now, the oonjal has also been touted as a great exercise tool. Oonjal Yoga is a thing and people seem to be buying into the trend. Be it for health regimes, or the simple pleasure of leisure, the demand for oonjal has picked up over the past two-three years, reports Suresh, owner of Vivek Associates — a store that exclusively deals with swing plank and accessories. Surprisingly, the period after the lockdown has brought in a significant increase in sales, he adds.
“With all children stuck at home during the lockdown, people want to bring in the oonjal to add to the entertainment they can provide at home. What was once a luxury product, now people of all backgrounds are purchasing oonjals according to their needs and budget. Sales, since July, has gone up by 20-30 per cent.
While we used to get about three enquiries a week, now we’re answering 20-30 calls a day,” he shares. His shop has the traditional oonjals from Rs 6,000 to Rs 75,000; whereas, floor-mounted variations are available for up to Rs 4.5 lakhs. Suresh was surprised with the development. With everyone’s income taking a hit during the lockdown period, he had not had much expectation for the store.
Yet, things have been well, he says. For a populace used to fashioning oonjals out of Banyan roots, a busted tyre, sturdy saris, bringing an oonjal home could mean a lot more than just purchasing furniture. Mithuna suggests that you keep this in mind when you’re looking for a swing, especially when all you need is a length of rope and a rectangular plank to make one. Whichever way you go, happy swinging!
Besides being a universal and unanimously loved architectural element, the oonjal finds itself in a place of significance in innumerable ways in many people’s lives. Architects, artists and everyday dreamers talk about how the oonjal has changed theirs.