The loss of the Tooth Pique and the ear pique!

Jayanthi Janata express which used to ply to New Delhi (not New Delhi for exact...but Hazrat Nizamuddin, which is near to New Delhi) from Cochin used to carry me when ever I travelled to Delhi.  In Andhra a lot of nick knack seller will enter the train with many useful little articles.  One of them used to the a bunch with three little copper knick knack.  One is an ear pick, another is a tooth pick and the third one is a little forceps. The whole thing put on a little tiny copper ring it cost me two rupees of the olden days!  I fell for it at the first sight and ever since I was a user and a devotee of this great equipment.


I bought them on almost all my travels and gave it to mother when I reached home.  She will distribute it to those who wanted them.   But I kept my first one.  Chicken curry was a delicacy in those days in the train.  After a chicken curry lunch, I did not have to use it as I was a lad of 26 and very healthy.  I had no health issues and never had to use a tooth pick.  I had got the bunch for the beauty of the ear pick.  As a finger will not go into the ear, it is good to use the copper ear pick.  It cleaned the ear spic and span after a bath.  I used it for a long forty years all through my working years, but lately the use slowly changed from the ear pick to the tooth pick.

Any fibrous food will send in a few fibre into the cavities of the teeth which is simply taken out by the tooth pick and at times the forceps.  That bunch of three items, lately became a bunch of two items containing only the ear pick and the tooth pick only.  And among the two the tooth pick started to run before the ear pick as the use of the item increased..! Ask any one above sixty, and you will see they generally agree.

(to be continued..)

The survival among the land mines!

Mother faced the ordeal of giving birth to a child!  She was supported by a village house-wife and I was there.  Father and all the elder brothers and sisters chipped in to help the mother and child.  Among the natural settings of Kerala I started my life's journey as a toddler and grew up with the other little brother and little sisters playing games and eating the niceties of the cashew nuts and cashew nut fruits and jack fruits and many other fruits which were available around in those days!

Father helped in refurbishing us with the daily needs and I went to school out of curiosity!  Then in quick succession I changed schools as there were compelling reasons for a child coming from difficult circumstances!  But father, brothers and sisters closed in to see that I go to school.   I found many of my fellow students falling out of schools as they many a time did not have our kind of closed rank brothers and sisters or lacked a loving father or mother at home.  That was the first land mine in life's cycle, I saw.

Then came the Government schools where there was no close watch on the children or their education.  Let alone, their family circumstances or their understanding of the subjects.  Those who could grasp something survived.  Second mine!  Those who could not, fell on the way side and went out of the schools to face the world!  So often children had doubts and there were no body to turn to.  I had my elders to clear my doubts and give me support in my studies! Then father was there, rock solid to support me in other matters.  Those who did not have, fell out of school.   If someone did not come back to school, no body checked on them.

Many children understood the meaning of the words and lessons wrongly and the number of children in the class was too high for the teachers to correct them.  The teachers were generally not interested in the students.  The children had a lot of problems at home from among which they used to come to school.  If they felt uneasy at a point, that was the end of their education!..No body ever checked on them, thereafter.

Then for those who completed the Secondary School Leaving there were two options. To leave school to try for work.  Those who opted to study further go to college to do their Pre-Degree where they faced formal Teachers called Lecturers who lectured to at lease 60 students and at the most 85.  If the students could understand, good for them.  Half understood!  The other half come and go.  Then there are side shows to spend time in the form of various programmes which the unsuspecting students fall into out of being too very straight and wanting to putting in their bit.  But, they did not know that these cut into their very valuable study time.   Most of the students who came from villages had to spend quite some time in travel.

If all these did not prevent the students from continuing their studies, then is the real test of getting into professional colleges!  Get an admission if you have first class marks in those days!  If you don't have 60% or more you register and wait your luck in the college notice board!  If that did not work go through an intermediary which is generally called recommendation route!  After all that you are in the class but the college Lecturers have no special or personal attention to the students!  Students may or may not learn.  This becomes a problem with the students coming from the village homes and poor families!  Some students will have political leanings and they may organize strikes and all the poor students become spectators and return home without studies.   Portions do not get completed many times and this affects them in examinations.  Those who are from well to do families and those who have educated parents see other means like special tuitions and helps to cover all the portions and face the Board examinations and come out with colours!  Others fall on the way side, unless they are prodigies!

Story of a Stomach Pain!

Sarojini Nagar is a city in Delhi.  We used to live there.  It was a hard time!  I used to work in an office and the office had provided me a living quarters.   My wife worked in a school in Faridabad side as Teacher.  I used to take her in the morning shiver, on my two wheeler scooter (a two wheeler scooter was a big thing in those days, for the simple folks it was more than a car) to a bus stop in front of  'Medical'  (the people in Delhi did not say All India Institute of Medical Sciences for AIIMS, they only said Medical).

A bus used to come from Punjabi Bagh which she caught.   That day, when I was dropping her, I was feeling the stomach pain.  On the return journey I told my wife that I will, perhaps, drop in to the Safdarjang Hospital and see if they could be of any help.   My wife left in the bus and I returned on my scooter, but the stomach pain was increasing..When I reached the gate of Safdarjang, a thought occurred to me.   I just can't stand and if I get down from the scooter I may fall down or may even crawl into the casualty of the hospital.   But there would be a number of other employees whom I would have to bypass to reach a doctor.  I may not be stand as much and may finish before a doctor saw me.

I decided against entering the hospital.  I know the hospital.   It is a good hospital.  But in an emergency, the other staff whom I will have to bypass frightened me....No.  it is better to continue on my scooter in this extreme cold morning and if possible reach home.  I changed gear and moved on..    At the Kamal cross which is a furlong up I had to turn right.  If I get a red light there, I am gone!   I was just lucky.  The light was green, and I took advantage and turned right straight on..  And that was the end of it.  Now I have to lie down. The pain has become imbearable.

I remembered my friend Gopalakrishnan living in the third row of houses among the Government quarters.   I automatically turned left to the quarters row.  I thought I can just lie down on the verandah of the flat next to me.   I was able to put the scooter on the stand and lock it in a jiffy and turned to the verandah.   As I said it was early morning and cold.   When I was trying to lie down I found the lady of the house was washing the verandah as her morning ablution.   I just lied down on the wet floor which surprised the woman washing the place!

Her eyes bulged out seeing somebody just lying on the floor but she understood I was in pain.  She enquired if I wanted some water!  I said, she can call Gopalakrishnan of upstair flat who is my friend.   My friend who was getting ready for the morning walk came running down and took me upstairs to his house where it was very warm.   His old father and mother was there and they insisted that I lie down in their bed.   The room was warm and cosy which made me relax and I fell into a short sleep.  In a while I got up and when I awoke, my friends old mother was sitting near me watching me.   His father very lovingly told me :  "Please you only slowly get up.   And have some break fast with these warm dosas."  I slowly got up and washed my face and came back.   I sat down as if I am a small child and my friends on either side was watching me slowly eating the dosas which  they had so lovingly served.  Again, I was asked to relax in bed after the dosas and I did so.   I would have slept for half an hour.   When I got up the stomach pain was gone!

I profusely thanked them...remembered my father and mother.   I wondered if my father and mother, who were reappearing as his father and mother to help me in this occasion of stress and pain and make me whole.  I thanked my friend and took my scooter and rode home.   Even years after, I remember all of them with great gratitude and still wonder at the course of events that unfurled that morning.   I still see my friend at times, but the saintly father and mother of my friend has moved to their heavenly abode in later years!  Very loving blessed people, indeed!  

******    ******

Lessons in Driving!

The green coconut palm leaf fan was a marvel.  Mother made it with finesse.  That was the second toy which I got in a cold December morning when the special east wind was blowing.  The east wind brought the benefit of a great feeling, especially in the morning.  It howled and whistled, but provided a head wind for the palm leaf fan on which it turned with speed.   When the speed was low, I had to run with it which unknowingly made the daily exercise complete.  Even otherwise, we ran for many things during the day.

The first present was a spinning top from father.  It was difficult to hold it in little hands with the thread around the top before throwing or putting it according to the ground or house floor.  With the fan we also learned to make blow horns with palm leaves.

The running improved into longer runs with the small steel wheel which was to be driven with a small wooden  handle with a curved wire at the bottom.   The curved wire guided the little steel wheel.  Of course the player ran with the stuff to enjoy the wheel drive.  The wheel drive improved into the rubber wheel made for playing.  This was the inner side of the truck and car tyres.  All things had one thing in common, Speed.  The wish was to drive, drive, drive.   On the way to school was the bullock carts.  Horses were only in pictures or movies, which were rare. 

The driving school was old and so was the learner car.  A little money was  needed  to be allowed in for the training class.  Mother suggested I learn when I earn.  And that is what was done.  Since, I could earn I walked around the old fiat car to inspect the same.  It was a good car but dirty.  The place being wet half the year, it needed a wash after training which it rarely got.  A conversation with the old manager friend saw me in the driving seat. Training in those days were all practicals.  In between little little pieces of advices will fly.  You catch it if you are good enough.   Or you get it from the trainer either by invectives or a slap or a push or an elbow hit.  I warded off these by making a contract with the manager friend.  I was a bit boorish in that.  I told him:  "I should not be manhandled during the lessons.  If any fault occurs during the lesson and your car goes broke, I shall pay for the car and make it mine!"  The manager friend froze in his standing posture near the little blue fiat car and looked at me for a long while.   I can see all the wheels in his brain working fast to make the calculations.  After a long while a deep breath he said:  "OK.  then, I will not come for the classes, I shall tell the paid Trainer and he will take the classes!"
I agreed.  I never could imagine the cost of the car or repairs at that time.  But these little shovings in the small cute little car, I despised or say, hated to the core.  Somebody should tell them, so I thought, why not I, since I am standing in the eye of the storm now.   It worked!

To me, driving was only one of the movings like the little wheel I used to run with the steel hook.   I did not understand why somebody should be attacked to teach him driving.  Of course some of them miss a few clicks of the levers while learning.  This is because they are not explained the activity of the wheels and pinions inside the mouth of the car.   If they knew, they will make far less mistakes when they learn as well as when they use the drill themselves ! In any case, now, I had to ward off the unnecessary hits which I did not agree to!   But I was keen to listen to the Trainer.  I was all ears and eyes towards the trainer and also the colleagues who were student drivers!The student drivers also got into the car usually when we went for the trip.  This gave an experience from the goings on between the driving student and the Driving Trainer.

When one student completes his twenty minutes of training driving, the next student will change seats with the earlier student.  The Trainer sat in the left seat with this clutch and brake pedals, which never came to the notice of the student drivers out of extreme anxiety and elation!  Most of the student drivers came to learn it to find an employment which many youngsters liked.  In my case, it was only for learning the trick, as I was already working, as suggested by mother, you earn and learn.  This gave me a leverage over the other students, even though the basics were the same for all.

All the same I have surmounted the first difficulty.   Now I have to keep the Trainer in good humour! I thought of way....nothing was coming to mind.   I was very much excited of the fact that the next day, I shall be in the driving seat of this little contraption of a car, which was really cute!  There was a little while board in the front and back showing the letter "L"  This said the car is being used to train students to drive and other vehicles may take precautions while approaching the learners' car!

On the road in those days it was a joy to be in a car! Roads were empty during the mornings and we went two to three kilometres to a large ground in front of a temple where we were made to practice reversing, turning etc.   On the road, once the student is in the seat the Trainer just made minimum  touches on the steering wheel to steer the vehicle  straight from possible veerings to one side or the other which usually occurred initially.   In a matter of one or two days, the steering control stabilized and then is the reversing and turning!  One thing the students, especially whose IQ is low, was in trouble was about the change of gears.   The training is by directly telling the student to put the gear from one to two, two to three and three to four!  The students were not given a proper class of the modalities before the class.   This led to a lot of confusion to many.  The students invariably miss proper change of gear with the result the tooth wheels in the gear box hitting each other or the lock pin touching somewhere which made the grinding sound which made the Trainer red with anger and at times into physical attacking of the students if they gave in!

All the same, the Trainer was a wizard as he said some of the principles in his simple ways which I caught straight and I did not have any problem on that count.   He said:  "The gear arrangement is like an 'H' . On the four hands  of the 'H' is the four gears.  From the central cross bar you push down a little more and down is the reverse.   The gear is fitted just below the steering wheel".    There was a small handle, a beautiful handle with a colourful knob, was the gear.  This in tandem with the clutch pedal worked for the shifting of the gears.
We did it in turns and whenever I got a free time I practised it in the car and when I was away at home or in office, I practised it in my mind.  This was a great way of practicing so that we were ready for the next lesson with the full mental picture of the earlier lessons. Moreover, many a time we travelled in other cars or buses.   I made it a point to sit near the driver in these occasions and watch the movement of the driver which gave us the actual happenings on when we really drove.

The Trainer said: "You do not think and drive.   Thinking and driving is only when you learn,  in the large compound place where you are along with your vehicle.  When you drive on the road, you should be driving bye-heart, and the body should be doing the work of driving by reflexes.  That much it should be ingrained in you, so that no accident occur on the road".  That was great advice.!  "You have no time to look at the meters and switches!  They should be bye-heart!"I really marvelled him for that advice, coming from a boy who did not have any formal education and learned driving by moving other people's cars for washing and putting them into the sheds! Great guy, indeed!

He continued to help every one who came for training.   He said the steering wheel turns three rounds.  The wheels turns a maximum of 45 degrees.  There is not much turning of the steering wheel on the road.  Just a little to this side or a little to that side.  A sharp turn comes only in a strictly 45 degree angle road joining  the road you are travelling or a hair pin curve. Mind you, at such places, you bring down the speed substantially so as to be able to manipulate it and once done increase the speed.  No fast driving and turning at curves.   According to the intensity of the curve, the speed should be slower and slower!

On the way was a Tea shop in a four cross.   I made it a point to get everybody including the little Trainer, Masterji some good tea and snacks (such nice arrangements were there in those days at very low rates) which enlivened us all.  As the advertisement goes there was a surge of adrenalin whenever I landed in the driving seat to move the car.  The purr of the car, that little blue fiat, was fantastic!  Slowly it will move and take speed.  The horn in the centre of the steering wheel was a marvel.   The gear lever positioned just under the steering wheel is superb and still I pine for it.  Oh...what a drive.. What a car!

In the temple compound ground, we tried a reversing training called 'go through the 'H"  As the "H" has two hands and a cross connection, the effort is to enter the bottom of the left side of the H go up to the top, come on the reverse and turn the back first to the right and then to the left to come down the bottom of the right hand.  Then go up to the top of the right hand of the H and then vice versa.  One has to have some control of the clutch and brake and steering wheel for this and has to turn well in the seat to look back and see to the back of the car through the driver's window.   One sat like a screw in the car and did it without much effort if one is young and agile.   As age goes by one has to put in a little more effort, especially the looking back to the back of the car stuff!

The point to point driving in making an "H" was considered to be the great finale to the driving lessons.  A number of light iron rods are planted in the form of the H and we are asked to perform the "H".   If any of the iron rods fall, for each rod a point is deducted from the marks and the candidate is considered 'failed' in the test.   In the same way if one clears both the handles of the "H"  one makes a pass in that category and then proceed to the road drive.   In the road drive only the Vehicle Inspector, a Government Officer only sits with the candidate on the front seat and all others in the back seat.  One or two simple tricky points the officers  watch in this as asking the driver to stop when he is in good movement.  A person wanting to fail will apply the brake straight away.  Actually, he is supposed to show a sign that he is moving to the left, move to the left, go slow, brake and then stop.

Another one is to stop on a climb.  After the stop, here the trick is, when the student driver is asked to move again many of the unsuspecting student drivers will falter in that the car will move backwards where by he can be declar4ed failed.  If the vehicle moves backwards he is a 'fail'.  If well trained, he will not do that, he will, rather keep the brake and clutch down and with the same right foot apply a bit of the gas pedal and when the raving is enough slowly release the brake and clutch and continue to press down the accelerator which carries the body mass of the car forward!  This is achieved with some good practice.

In the classes, the Teacher cum Guru, even though he was too young, gave me some beautiful tips! One was, do not get upset, if something did not work.  Simply do it again, and it will work!  Second is, when you attend the test, you have to first start the car when the Inspector will be sitting in a chair outside and watching you.  You make a mistake, and he may fail you.   But you do not know what he considers a mistake.   So do not put marks yourself.   One common stuff which happens is the car may go off immediately after you start it.  Do not panic.  Simply push down the clutch and brake and turn the key again, it will come on.  If you do it with confidence, the Inspector may not mind it.   If you get upset, and not start the car again, and look at the Inspector, then the story will change.  And it exactly happened like that when my turn came for the Test.  His advice worked for me.  I passed the test!

When I was asked to start, the car was in front of the right leg of the "H" made by a number of steel poles which were just fixed in the loose earth and can fall at the simple touch of the car without hurting the car!  I have to go up and come backwards turn left, then right and reach the bottom of the left leg of the "H" then do vice versa!  I took a deep breath, sat in the driving seat, said a little prayer and turned the key.....The car raved up and then died!  Gosh...!   Without losing a moment, I turned the key again and held it and the engine came up !! Yes..I had got it right!  The next going up and coming down was easy as I was having a very pliable body at the age of 23 where I could almost turn like a screw!  When I stopped the car after the exercise, the Inspector smiled at me, took out my form and ticked in one column and said "Come for the road test once I finish with the other students!"

We went on the road and drove on keeping to the left of the road.  On the way, I was asked to stop.  I can either fail or pass.  If I stop straight on, I fail.  If I slow down, move to the extreme left of the tarred portion of the  road, show my right hand up, to say that I am going to stop and then stop, I pass!  I did that and passed.  Then I continued with another stop on the up hill area from where I had to use both the brake and accelerator together supported with the clutch!  I moved on without difficulty.  Next was the final stopping and parking.  I was asked to park on the left cut road after just crossing it over.  Here I had to reverse and slowly manoeuvre and drive backward to the left cut road where there was a pool of muddy water.   I slowly started backwards sitting like a screw and looking back at the cut road and brought the little fiat car just covering the muddy pool and behind the pool I parked the car and that was the final PASS..!   That was a driving licence for me..!

The Inspector told me before entering back into the car to test the next student: "Come to the office after the test, I shall give you the Pass Receipt".  Later, when all the students were tested and we were back in the Road Transport Office, the officer was there and with a smile he said: "Here is your Pass Receipt" and handed over a printed receipt with my name filled up saying. . . . . . . . . .passed in the Driving Test.  Issue Driving Licence.  As soon as I was out of the Inspector's office my Guru who was waiting for me outside, all happy and with a wide smile on his face, suddenly took the receipt from me and said:  "You can collect it from the Manager later when the accounts are settled".  This was a crude way of doing it in Kerala, as many times, the student drivers defaulted in their payments to the driving school.

I was somehow unconcerned as I had settled every thing with the Owner Manager of the School and since I was also working in another Government Office, he can't think of anything against me.  Moreover, he was a friend and well wisher!  After three days or so, I was issued a licence!  I was really elated to get the licence and showed it off to every one at home!  Father and Mother were exceptionally happy!  While parting with the Driving School Manager and the Trainer Teacher, both were very happy for me and said;  "When ever you want to use the car for personal driving, you can come to us. Only petrol will be charged for you and if the Trainer is free and if you so need, he can also come with you"  This was a bonus, I knew. 

I took it once, just to impress mother and sister.  But initial driving was not as easy as the driving test.  Every time a bus or car came from the opposite side, I was in great panic.  When a vehicle going in the opposite direction honked, I thought there is a vehicle behind me.  I was damn afraid to look at the mirror, for fear of losing the road.  After I completed once side to Trichur, I thought, I had done all the driving in the world!  Basically I had gone to help my brother in law to carry his personal effects in the car as he was vacating his room in the lodging house where he was staying.  The place was just near the Kerala Transport Corporation Bus Stand.  Near that place, you will be swarmed by the red and yellow coloured Kerala Transport Corporation buses from all sides.  Actually, there were only the simple usual buses, but for a new driver like me, I saw buses on all sides plus other vehicles. 

While returning I told the Driver Trainer friend (He had become a friend by now) to take the vehicle.  I was in a lot of perspiration.  As I was driving, I had mother in the back seat.   I was always feeling that how mother will react to my first driving!  So the easy way was to tell the Trainer to take the vehicle on the return trip.  Then mother interfeared:  "Why are you feeling uneasy?  Just drive on.  Nothing will happen!"   I was taken aback!  What a force in her words! How confident she is! I agreed:  I knew mother is very strong even other wise.  This was a great support to me at that point of time.  Yes. I sat along and drove back.  The worlds of mother was going in my mind again and again. "Why are you feeling uneasy?  Just drive on.  Nothing will happen!"  We completed the trip nicely.  Till date,  mother's words reverberate in my mind whenever I am in the driving seat!  And I drive on...

THE MORNING MASS!

THE MORNING MASS

Morning used to be six o' clock.  The sun will rise up at six and come through the cashew tree leaves, the dew drops at the dips of the slanting leaves sparkling with pearlish rainbows in them, the place being near the equator and central Kerala.  In the winter times, mornings will be late.  The rainy season also used to delay the morning, not by late sun rise but by the cloudiness or rain which is copious at times!  Among these mornings the holy mass in the local convent chapel, was a blessing as this gave a mooring to the morning and direction for the day.  Once I got this feel, I made it a point to get up in the early morning and go for the mass in the nearest Convent Chapel.

The Convent Chapel was a kilometre away from my house and was less in distance from our main church which happened two kilometres away!  Moreover, the Chapel was smaller and cleaner compared to the huge Church. As all the members of the family was in support of this pursuit of mine, I was happy and jubilant in the mornings in getting up and preparing for the morning attendance.

At that time, a course of training was on for little boys to make them fit to serve at the altar during the morning mass, which is almost like a puja in the temples, which take place in the mornings everyday in the Convent.  Naturally, I took part in the same and got fit to take part in the mass helping the old Father who used to be the Chaplain of the Convent who said the mass in the old style of 'Suriaani'. 

I used to get up around five o' clock as learned in my boarding school and after ablutions and a bath, I am ready for the mass.  I wore my little white dothi and white shirt and walked fast to the Convent.  As I walk up, I can see the various night birds and other beings returning to their nests and the morning sun walking up to the eastern skies throwing a hash of red and yellow in the firmament.

The convent will be open by six o' clock and the mass used to be at six thirty  morning.  The old father will be in the sacristy usually to which we the altar boys had admittance.  He will be standing facing the cross with his hands on the table cloth in a calm and serene look with his eyes fixed on the cross or eyes closed.  As soon as we are there we light up the candles and do up the thurible for the smoking of the frankincense and then return to the old father who will be now ready for his dress up.   We used to help him with his huge outer cassock and hold the double huge white ornamental rope from behind.  He will take it with his both hands and tie it up at his waist, as if he is going to war.  Over the huge outer cassock and stalk he thus tied up the rope and pushed in the ends of the rope to his left and right side of the tide up rope and over that he would put the red outer ornamental dress!  He looked like an angel after fully dressed up!

The mass was in 'Suriani' language in those days.   The father once on the alter, started with 'Puthanekon....'   this he said in a some what longish way to which we the altar boys replied 'Puthaneda Mishiha...' and the mass went on with its various turns and twists in which the old father turned and offered and wished 'Peace to the Congregation'.  In between we had small small areas to say our return prayers which included a lot of 'Barek Mores' and all.  At times we rang the small cute bell at important points of the mass and also at times we had to swing and show the thurible, which set up white perfumed smoke which made the place very pleasant to be in.  

It is a pleasant work to fix the thurible ready for the mass.  The simple coconut shell charcoal is filled in the thurible and a piece of cotton wick dipped in vax is lighted and put among the charcoal to light it up.  In a while by giving a little air either by blowing directly or by a small fan, it is brought into a little furnace on to it the frankincense is put brining up a decent whilte smoke.  At the time of the offering, when the old father stood with his hands crossed with the cup and the chalice in them, the white smoke filled the altar sending the whole area into a super natural glow.  The old father stood for long with the cup and chalice in his hands, which made us think that he is really speaking to Jesus!  The mornings became a clelebration with the mass every day.

There were plenty of people on the main hall of the Chapel where as one side hall was filled with the holy nuns who provided all the needs on the altar and also arranged the altar so beautifully every day with new decorations. The sweet St. Mary's statue on the top of the altar was a treat to the eyes.  Over the statue, there were two colour glass windows from which the morning sun sent in coloured light.

There was more than one altar in the chapel.  The main altar is the one on which the usual morning mass was offered.  The main altar had full sight to three wings converging to it.  The front wing ear marked for the people from outside attending the mass or say, the general public, the left wing solely for the sisters and the right wing for the aspirants and the assistants and the lady inmates who lived with the sisters.

The father with his ornamental vestments turned around to face the people only to bless them or offer them 'Peace' etc.  Otherwise he faced the altar and if he was not attending the cup and chalice on th altar table, he was looking up at the sepulchre or the cross with the statue of Jesus on it, in a deep reverie of prayer! The whole atmosphere was one of great holiness and purity!

What ever said, the mass and the prayers had its light moments too at times, even though rarely.  The old father was a stickler to the important principle of love, affection, charity, purity, holiness all turned into one.  He used to get us new playing cards whenever we visited him in his personal parsonage! We visited him rarely, though.  He had a huge garden tended by the workers of the Convent and over seen by the sisters. 

I was an expert in lighting up the candles, which was very tall and stood around 10 feet in height from the floor, including the heights of the altar, the candle stand (which itself was three to four feet tall), and the tall candle which was from fine quality yellow bee wax and three to four feet tall and with matching thickness.  There was  a long pole with an inverted funnel on the top and a wick on the side just below the inverted funnel.  The wick was to light up the candle and the funnel was to put off the same when the mass and prayers ended.  It was my joyful privilege to do this!  Next interesting stuff was to light up the thurible which could be laborious when there is not enough wick to light up or not enough time to blow the charcoal into a good fire. 

One day, it so happened that the thurible charcoal for smoking the frankincense had no fire in it.  As soon as I saw this before the mass, I brought it to the notice of the sister who was assisting.  The sister was not keen on it and told me "You only show it!  Don't go too much into the other aspects, OK?"  The sisters had an upper hand in these things, as we are only called to help as a matter of piety to be practised as little children!  When a Sister asked us OK?, it is OK with us!   So, I returned with the dead thurible and at the appointed time when the Father turned to bless the frankincense, I swung it in the usual manner!

The thurible had four chains which we held in our two hands in such a way that the thurible vessel can be swung up and down by shortening the chain length by holding them together or from side to side by leaving the chain in full length.  Here, I was doing it on my knees, in the up and down fashion, and the father was facing me with raised hand to bless!  To my surprise, I found the thurible which I swung up did not come back and as I watched the father was standing with the hand raised to bless but not blessing!  He had fixed me and the thurible with his steel look and I was at a loss to know what was the reason!

I did not have to look long, as the Father, slowly turned around to face the sisters wing on the opposite side.  Fortunately the assisting sister was at the back so did not have to take the heat of the father's steel look!  He slowly asked:  "My children, why are you doing this penance?  If you do not want it, just tell, and I may not have to take the trouble!"  This was anyting but not a compliment in the morning and especially in between a mass!  Most of the sisters started going helter skelter and in a moment my thurible was on fire and smoking well and good and in a short while the altar and the chapel was full of the thick white smoke! 

As soon as the mass was over, we were free to go home and we did! There were people who practised more piety who stayed on to offer various other prayers and practices!  One old gentleman, who had his house near by was outstanding as he prayed on almost upto lunch time, which tea etc. being brought in for him from his near by house. Such prayers and piety needed a lot of affluence at home!  We never had that kind of privilege and we if at all we had to, and thought of, had to do them at home along with the night prayer or morning prayer!  Usually, as children we rarely remembered to pray during the day when we were busy with other aspects, and our knowledge of prayer was very limited.

Angaadi (The Market Place)

Angaadi is the village market place.  At the city of Ollur this was a four cross. a north south road was criss crossed by an east south-west road.  Coming from the east road was the old red bus called Sreeramachandra.   It came from a hilly terrain called Thrikkur far up in the east.  When we came out of our house from the bye-lane, it appeared with its face to the west and proceeded after taking passengers waiting for it under the Madras Eeantha tree.

It also stopped whenever some one showed a hand, generally a left hand as the entry was from the left and the road driving in Kerala was always keeping to the left.  It stopped at the Police station where the Conductor got down ran to the Police station, made a signature, gave a polite reply to the police man who threw a question or told him to keep the timings etc., ran in shouting "weiisss..."  This is the other form of saying 'Right' which was used to warn the Driver to start.   In fact the driver kept on looking at the direction of the Conductor and as soon as the Conductor made a hissing noise the bus shook, shivered and moved on spitting a lot of smoke at times.  Emission was not a problem in those days.

There was no need of any lane driving as the road was a small one and only one vehicle could pass through it at a time.  If any other vehicles came from the opposite side, they came straight at it and near the vehicle, Sreeramachandra moved a little to the left and the opposite oncoming bus moved a little to its left and both passed in their directions peacefully!  The bus moved at a sluggish pace and there was no problem of overspeeding !  The Driver spoke to as many poeople as he cared to, many in the bus spoke to him and so did the
Conductor.  There was a gentleman who was a 'Cleaner' of the bus (he was a mechanical cleaner cum general cleaner - such Cleaners later became Drivers in those days - they learn the ropes propitiating the Driver and the Conductor) who had a lot of people, of course, all passengers, to speak to!

It reached the four cross junction, the Driver looked to all sides with caution and went ahead at the central lamp post donated by a village elder and turned right.   The lamp post had a beautiful round and slanting base with a copper plate with the writing "Donated by Mookken.....Thoma....etc."  There the bust turned right to the north to proceed to the Trichur Town City the end point of the bus carrying all the passengers travelling for various works or attending offices.  The market had all kinds of shops from ware shops, grocery shops, barber shops, tea shops, vegetable shops, cloth shops, tailor shops, bakery, hotel etc. etc. and one particular village mall for meat and fish.   A mall in the village was never called a mall but a market only.   Some people called it the fish market.

The fish and meat market was followed by the Toddy shops and Curry shops which was the star attraction of the able bodied gentlemen who had the mind for it. Both the places were the dirtiest of the whole place.   But the place was frequented by all the families of the village for various items from vegetables, to fish to meat and other assorted items.  Since the market and the surroundings had a lot of unused land the waste and waste water were pushed into those places and hence, the dirt and filth was not so much of a trouble to the visitors.  Now such places always called 'puramboke' or village land which is not in any body's account, but only in village records, are all disappeared.

Any body reaching the angaadi stood around for a while watching the evening going-on for a while.  There would be special on the spot sales, at times, village doctors doing instant treatment, some doing a little magic show or acrobatics etc.  A gentleman offered to take ones painful tooth and offered some odd treatment.  Another one was making a clairvoyant speech and offering various forest herbs treatment in which he was elaborating on the 'vella pokku' of youngsters.  I also once joined the crowd who generally stood around such people to hear their local ,google, speeches of olden days. The 'vellapokku' was the normal change of puberty to youthhood and  many poor people were befooled by such simpletons of and on.  All kinds of vehicles from buses, cars, bullock carts and single bullock carts came and went from all sides to all sides.

Sometimes, a local police man controlled the traffic.  This appened only during peak hours.  Aroma of foods came from all the tea shops and hotels and filled the air.  Most of the village people visited the village centre for buying daily necessities and see the goings around.  There were star attraction shops, ordinary shops and little box shops.  The star shops were the grocery shops and the stationery shops.  The biggest grocery shops was in the centre of the angaadi.

The owner of the shop was a local gentleman who sat at his mahogany desk which was also his cash box.   He had quite a few employees who arranged or packed the different wares for his customers.   Customers only had to mention how much of each item they wanted to any one of the employee and they would neatly pack them in either teak leaves of old newspapers and give to the customers.   Before the items are handed over to the customer, the value of the items are added by a clerk next to theowner of the shop.the employees packing the items told the items in quick successionn with their measures which the accountant clerk quickly took down and priced according to measure and passed on the slip to the owner who collected the cash from the buyer and handed him over the account slip.   This was the old time manual computing in its finness!

Anybody of that period liked or hoped to run a shop like that one day!   None of the things were packed in polythene in those days as polythene were not there.  This was good for the surroundings as the problem of plastic and polytheene were not there!  Oils were measured with different 'thavis' (thavis are small laddle type vessels with an upright handle to dip into the oil tins which are generally deep) and poured into bottles which the buyers brought with themselves.  Since the lentils and pulses and other day to day needs were simply packed on the spot or measured out into the natural bags or bamboo kottas (kotta is another type of bamboo basket used to buy groceries and keep other carryables from the market) the packing charges were not there and hence the items were not very costly.

In the fish market one got live fish to all types of sea fish.  All assortments to be added to a fish curry was also sold in bits and pieces in the market.  There was a few ayurvedic medicine shops which was a busy shop in those days. People from all walks of life came with prescriptions for kashaayams and aasavams and also needing ready made medicines which the shop keeper always kept.   The shop keeper was an Anthgonychettan who memorized most of the kazhaayam ingredients and did the packing deftly which was a joy to see.  He had a wooden tray in which he put the different ingredients and once all the ingredients were put he would recheck the whole thing with the prescription.  Then he packed it in teak wood leaf or old news paper.All people were happy with the Ayurvedic medicine shop and thought that their health depended on the well being of the shop.

That was true to an extent.  Every body bought the children's requirement called the 'chembaratyadi velichenna' or kashaayams for over all health, the eye cleaner and eye treater called the famous 'elaneer kuzhambu' which I personally used to use.  There were many other medicines in his shop including the dashamoolarishtam and lohasavam and a number of other aasavams which were all dispensed to each according to ones requirements.

The ubiquitous tea shops and barber shops were always patronised by all those who could have the need and afford.  The rates were nominal but the money was less.  Still, when compared to these times, it was small or minuscule. When ever one wanted to have a hair cut, one strolled into one of the barber shops one liked and had a patient sitting at the bench reading a newspaper or magazine, which the shop keeper would care to put there, until one is called to the cutting chair.   Once there, the barber would jovially address the patron and do the cutting or shaving with a small dialogue going all through the cutting ceremony which is normally enjoyed by all patrons.  At times, some people went for a cutting to a particular shop just to enjoy the company of the barber speaker. 


The barber shops in the village city centre was slightly of a higher grade in that their rates were slightly higher than the ones a little far away from the centre. The one we went were near the police station which we always hated to go!  This place was one of the terrible difficulties we faced once in a while under the care and supervision of our father.  We suffered the barbers rough hands turning our little heads in this direction or that or he pushed our head down to the front to clear up the back of our heads.   For suffering this trouble, father always made it good by getting us to the nearest tea shop.  We got the customary white tea and 'parippu vadas' (this is a ground lentil recipe wetted and mixed with onions and fried in coconut oil) the fried smell of which always made our mouths to water!

The road from the east in which the Sreeramachandra bus came was not tarred, but a gravel road and from the village centre called the 'gramodhaarana kendram' it was tarred.  Then it joined the national high way at the village city centre with the lamp post and all the market shops called the angaadi.  The national high way passed the angaadi coming from the south and going to the north to the Shaktan Thampuran's Thrissur. 

The national high way is a small constriction at the Angaadi entry area when it enters from the south passing the 'Sathram' a place for all the poor on the right. The entry constriction is constricted by the buildings on both sides and the little box shops attached to them. The buses and hig vehicles have to be careful not to take away the tiles from the little box shop. The drivers were experts, so such incidents were rare and the vehicles were always careful in road crossings.

Once it passed the central lamp post, the buses stopped on the left to help passengers to alight and to enter. On the same side was a large grocery shop which had a huge verandah which allowed everybody to wait there while they awaited their buses. On one side was a cobbler who polished the foot wear and made leather chappals and shoes in his spare time. He also did assorted other works as mending old foot wear and ladies bags. Gents in those days never carried any bags. Only elderly, only some of them, carried a leather purse which was local made. He made that too with leather binding tag which was always very long.

The cobbler sat with his cobblers box full of instruments and his twine and pins, nails and top pins, leather and other attachments for various items he made or repaired. He sat near the dirty waste canal and suffered the stench. Luckily he was unaware of the stench or he had no other go. I never asked him. No body else, I knew, did. Every body thought it is his way of finding his livelihood and all liked him to be there as it was very convenient to find him just before getting into the bus or when one is in the angaadi.No body advised him on any thing nor did he take any advice either.  He was unaware of the goings around but for his custom.

Passing him to the north was other shops selling cloth, kanji, and bamboo wares and mats and mattresses of old.  On the right side, which was opposite to the cobbler was the cuppola of Angel, St. Raphael where many said a prayer.  The Angel is the protector and co-travellers for those who call upon him!  His statue was a beautiful one with a gold ring on his hand and his other hand is in the hand of a boy, Tobit who also holds a fish on one hand!   Behind the cuppola is the common market selling meat, fish and other assorted items connected with making the daily curry in houses which goes with the staple food of rice.


After the cuppola is a vacant land where all the rubbish is dumped and a part of it is a walk way to the Toddy Shop with is a wetting outlet for the men and oldies who had the mind for it.  The Toddy shop is also interspersed with many shops called the 'koottan shops'' which are shops which sold toddy liquid (this is a mild alcoholic drink extracted from the coconut palms) in retail and charged more.  Those shops attracted their customers by their captivating curries with great aroma which arrested anybody's attention if they passed by those shops.  Whenever I passed such shops, my mouth watered!  I never told anybody about it.   As a child one cannot do it.  The place is considered taboo and any body going there are considered a drunkard!

Then came the barber shop of the city town.  This was a part of a dilapidated building.  Slanting tile roof and a barred wooden crazy on one side.  The barber's chairs faced the wall and the on lookers in the chair always saw wall calendars with pictures of half naked film actresses on them.  Those who had to wait had news papers to read, which many read from back to back and at times discussions followed.  The shop keeper took part in most of the discussions always adding a bit of his own knowledge without joining sides!
In totality it went well for all and increased his custom.

After the barber shops is the bi-cycle shop and the great tile companies.   One tile company had a small St. Mary's Statue and this company central entry was lovingly remembered by all of us the school children for the small earthen drum with a tap which always held clean cold water to drink along with a few glasses kept ready near by.  The Company Manager could have been a very godly person as it was always cleaned by one of the employees and water filled again and again, especially in summer when we the children went there to have a drink on our way to school or off from school.   We never had an occasion when we did not get water there!  Of course, those days are gone now.

Then comes a few of the great houses of the rich of the city town where no one saw people generally, but cars going in and out at times.  In those days of yore, when the roads were quite free, the going  and coming of the cars were looked on by all of us with great surprise.

Now here came the School, the St. Mary Convent Girls' High School,  a Catholic Sister's Convent which imparted free education to almost every girl child of the place around and to little boys upto the class III  from quite far back in time. The school had a lot of roses in its gardens when rose gardens were unheard of in other places.   Sisters were always pleasant, jovial and a great support for the girl children of Kerala.  Little boys studied there upto the third class.

From the convent onwards a number of great houses a huge pond called the Chira which had special steps to get down inside for both, separately for men and women from far back in time.  These were done, perhaps, in the Kings time! Any body wanting to take a dip could do so without fear or avour and it was free.  The local panchayat looked after the place and cleaned it once in an year during summer!

The came the inter connected rivulet which carried the extra water from the pond during the rainy season!  Elephants being given a wash was a common sight in this rivulet!   Many famous elephants used to be brought here for a healthy dip in olden days when the water was very clean!  Hereafter comes the star attraction of the place the St. Antony's Forane Church!  St. Anotony is the main deity here.   But on a side altar is set up the consecrated statue of Arch Angel St. Raphael along with Little Tobit who is holding a fish in his hand.   eople all over the state and near by states come here to pay obeisance and receive blessings from the Angel, St. Raphael, who is the protector of travellers.  People in Ollur always thought it is a matter of great advantage to be a member of this place and this church!

The Church festival was the biggest event we all saw and witnessed every year!  There was celebrations all around the City and the Church and almost everywhere in the Ollur City!!  It was th festival of angel, St. Raphael who was the protector of travellers!

Alone in Delhi, Employed in Delhi!

On a February evening I landed up in Delhi to work there in a Government office.  For a few days I stayed in a small hotel and this  had to be ended.  A gentleman in the office belonged to Kerala and he advised that I rather move out of the hotel and start living independently.   I was unaware of the ground realities there, in Delhi.  He advised me further that a youngster lives in a room where he would need a room mate.

This was the normal thing for any youngster to do in those days.   I agreed.  The youngster was a bank clerk and he was at a loss to stay alone as he will have to pay the whole room rent alone.  For me it was a God sent, that I can get the room as well as can stay with someone who had been there for a while and knew a bit of the Hindi language which is used in Delhi in colloquial language.

I moved my little leather box (these days, it is suit case, in those days it will be either a trunk box, a tin trunk or a leather box) and reached the room along with a few of my other colleagues who was of somewhat my age.  I had a cotton blanket, a light woollen blanket and a thick coarse cotton sheet which we called 'jamukkalam' which was to be used for a mat.   My friends advised me to buy a 'charpoy' a kind of natural cot, made of bamboo bars, wooden legs and braided grass rope platform for sleeping on.  This was really good like the leaf mats available in kerala.

Once it was settled in the room the jamukkalam was spread on it.  A pillow was added to it and using the light woollen and cotton blankets I settled down to sleep.  My friend room mate was also in a similar bed on the opposite side of the room.  As soon as I hit the bed, I was fast asleep.  I liked it.   After a few hours deep sleep, I came awake feeling very cold but could not know from where. I checked my watch. It was two  o' clock.   I remembered my father and mother and all my brothers and sisters at home who always saw to my welfare.  I felt uneasy.  After a long while I fell asleep.   Same thing repeated the next day.   I looked at my friend in the next bed.   He was fast fast asleep and was snoring.  This made me thhink.   What can be that I alone cannot sleep.

Next day, I shared this fact with a number of my colleagues who had become friendly by now.   One of them really wanted to help and started asking me the way I slept.  I explained.  He said "That is all right.  But there could be a reason.  Because the climate in February is best for sleeping as it is cold in the nights"  At last he said, "I shall come to your room and see if there is anything lacking"   That was a very kind and sensible thing for him to do for me. Once in the room he checked my bed and the sleeping materials and suddenly he came to the greatg find:  "Oh..pretty well, that is why you are unable to sleep.  Nobody sleeps on a jamukkalam.  That can only be a first sheet.  You shouldhave a small bed called a 'kosady' to lie down and a sheet on it.  And over you, you need a 'rajai'.  Both the kosadi and rajai are filled with air beaten and loosened cotton and hemmed up nicely.

We went straight to the market and got both of them.   That night I went to sleep at ten o clock and within no time it was seven o clock in the morning!!  That was the first day, I had a sound sleep in my independent life in Delhi!!
Oh...what a difference.   With a 'rajai' on top and a 'kosadi bed' below on a charpoy..Delkhi is a place to sleep in winter!  Oh..boy.   I enjoyed the sleeps for the next few weeks through and through.  At ten at night, I just go under the rajai and it is morning!  When youngsters come from hotter areas of India to Delhi in winter if they do not have the sleeping equipments as I related, they will really suffer.

In the morning I walked to the bus stand in the four cross of RKPuram, Sector 4 where all the buses started.  There was a few buses going to the Central Secretariat on the north of North Block. I went to office paying thirty paise every day and got down at the last point which was the Central Secretariat Bus Stop.  There was a small bus bay where the bus stopped.  Once out of the bus, I walked into the North Block, walked up the long flight of steps to cross the central hall of the North Block with the different star signs etched on the granite stones crossing which a further flight of steps arfe covered and one reached Raj Path.   Once I crossed the Raj Path, is the South Block which is to be crossed to reach the Hutment office where I worked.  The Hutments were covered with huge trees and the trees were full of monkeys where were generally harmless.

The hutments had heating arrangements with the hearth burning with firewood and coal in the morning.   As soon as we reached we kept our bags and warmed up our hands at the hearth and then settled down in our respective seats and work started.  Various clerks, Assistants, Section Officers all kept on with their files, papers, dialogues, telephone calls etc. etc. till five o' clock and then closed up the office, locked up every thing and came out to go home.  The offices worked from 10 am to 5 pm in those days with Saturday being a working day and only the Second Saturday of the month being a holiday.

The morning!

The morning air was cool.  It was raining all through the night.  The easterlies are bringing medium rains with breezy clouds which come down as drops of blessing.  But they do not stop in the night all through.  The morning comes with fresh fragrance of the little flowers and grass.   The long beaked pelicans go in formation to the eastern skies to catch the early meals from the col padams (paddy fields).   Their V shaped going is a real sight.   They do not go in mixed groups.   The white pelicans will have white pelicans only.  And black only black.  The freshness and fragrance invited me to the outside. 

I had overslept.  Not purposeful.  But it so happened. When it rains outside, it is like that, if the alarm is not set.  When the alqrm is set, sleep opens before the bell.  The anxiety of the alarm is alarming.  So, it was not set.

Outside, the trees kept on dripping with that last minute pearl drops of water. A buttlefly called the 'nercha thumbi' was swinging among the little plants.   A butterfly with two large black circles on each wing is called a nercha thumbi here.  It reminded one of a long forgotten vow to visit a holy religious place.  In fact, I have many of them.  Thge buttle fly is small.  So the place should be one nearby.  Had the butterfly been too large, it would be a far away place and at times out of Kerala.  I looked closely at the little being on the grass.  My God!  It is not swinging!  It is caught in a web, a delicate web set by a cunning spider.  The spider is hiding before attacking it.   A good trick like all villains, so that the butterfly will exhaust all its energies by trying to disentangle it itself.  Wanted to save it.  Took a small twig and slightly cut through the web and Lo! The buttlerfly was free. 

The 'Mukkootti'  flowers were smiling.   These are smallest of yellow flowers always smiling most of the rainy times in bloom, when the atmosphere is full of moisture.  Considered as a nuisance, we remove them always!  They are not disheartened! Like an obedient dog, they come up again and stand smiling at us all over the compound!  A honey bee was ging in and out of them sucking honey.   Even such a little flower has a little honey for the honey bee.  I felt ashamed.  What heartless beings are we?  Squirrel made a chil chil noise and climbed the coconut tree.  A rat snake looked up from among the 'kozhingals' (the coconut stalk is called kozhinjal).  Once it made sure that someone  moving around it made a swish sound and crept away at a fast slithering pace and disappeared in the nearby grass in the next compound.  That compound was full of green grass which are too tall. A fit place for them. 


The sky was half clear but the easterly clouds kept on coming and covering the sun.   At times a bit of sun shire came out but to be closed up again by the moving clouds!  There was talk on the small panchayat road.  People are returning from the church.  Every now and then a motor cycle or scooter or an auto riksha broke the silence.   The new kinds of transports.  Still the morning gave out a serene atmosphere!

A little child's recollections!

         One day, we had a meeting of all friends who walked together to school.  Our leader presided.  It was a simple affair in which without discussion the leader just announced the minutes and looked at all members for approval.  The proposal for all of us who had come from our houses to go to school,was to skip the day's school and go around through our short cuts, paddy fields, and wherever we liked and avoid class and studies, which he said was very boring.  I was petrified and started looking at other friends faces.  They were all shaking their heads in approval.  A couple of them had a grin on their faces as if it is a great thing to do and kudos to the leader who could think of such a marvellous idea and announce it without any hitch.  I for one, felt for the studies, and also wanted to see my class fellows on all days, was at a loss at this sudden idea.  I looked around to see if any one had my thought in them. Alas, all were in favour of the boss and I was alone!  For the first time in that trip I thought my knees were giving way.  I pulled myself up and kept very quite.  The leader started walking to the short cut paddy field way.

         We went through various compounds eating whatever fruits or junglee seeds we could get there.  caught a few small fish a kept them on leaves with water in them and enjoyed the sight.  After a while we came on the walk way on the bank of the Irrigation canal.  The canal was of medium depth with two-three feet water flowing in them.  I was really enjoying the journey and it was becoming almost lunch time.  Suddenly, the leader stopped and asked one of my friends to 'bring out the other thing'.  I started wondering what this other thing could be.  My other friend (he had an arrangement with the leader and was more close to him) brought out a packet covered with newspaper.  Once opened, I could see it was a bundle of beedis, the country cigarette.  These had tobacco in it covered with the desi or country tendu leaves usually green in colour.  My father and eldest two brothers, I have noticed, smoking them.   I always thought that this is for the big men to use them and I hated the smell of it.  I also hated those who used them.  I could not stand the smell of it and once around that smell adhered to your dress too.

         I shuddered at the sight of this terrible thing!

         First a shiver went through me at such a turn of events which I had not expected.  Not studying and skipping class was not OK, but sufferable.  Here things were slipping out of hand.  I kept my cool even though very uneasy.  At home in the small rooms we had at times my father or brothers lighted up a beedi.  The acrid smoke and the pungent smell of phosphorus and sulfur nauseated me every time this happened.  I moved away as telling anything against will only call for criticism in those days.   The leaders voice shook me from my reverie.  "Distribute the thing"  At this every one was given a beedi each.  I did not accept the stuff.  Others were examining it and they were all were putting it to their mouths as a prelude to lighting up.  One of the boys produced a match box and helped each one to start their beedis.  Once it was over the whole attention was on me.  I could not think of a way out.  There were moments of tension.  Slowly the leader came close and stood before me.  He towered over me.  I started to become smaller and smaller.   He ordered my friends to hold my hands and said "I have a way to make him accept it"  Two of my little friends who had grown bigger than me after my refusal held my hands.  Leader ordered a third friend "Light it and put it in his mouth"  There was a way of lighting up for others by lighting the beedi and taking a puff by somebody before putting it in others mouth.  This was being done to me now!  My face reddened.  I wanted to rebel.  I wanted to revolt.  I wanted to vomit!

               The lighted beedi  was put in my mouth and the smoke started to penetrate my nostrils.  The climate was pleasant.  There was a light breeze.  It had rained in the early morning.  The water was flowing in the canal with a gurgle.  Suddenly on the spur of the moment I spat out the beedi to the flowing water.  On contact with water the lighted beedi was put off with a hiss and it started flowing down stream.  Every body was stunned!  I expected the unthinkable may happen now, which I did not know.    Leader was also takedn by surprise for a moment.   No body expected this to happen.  The cost of the beedi and the irreparable  loss which I made, upset them.   The Leader told me, with .  a bit of sadness,  "No you can't be in our company.     Keep away from the team!"   I had nothing to say.  I was startled, just stared at him for a short while and started backing up.  Then he turned around and started his walk and everybody else followed, I at the last.

After a while he came back to me and admonished me saying that I cannot walk in line with them, so I keep a few steps away from them only which I obeyed to avoid further complication.   I walked with my head down and sad at the turn of events and feeling for myself, as to  lose such nice friends who were my walk mates!

    All of us walked in aline over the side bank of the canal which brought us to the road and at the joining point there was a small tea shop.  Once at the shop, the shop keeper in a lungi ( a coloured piece of long cloth) with a lighted beedi on his lips greeted our leader with a wide grin and a 'helo'.  I was sure that they knew each other.  The other friends were non-consequential as none of us were grown up enough to enter a tea shop on business or greet the owner. We were all considered small children.

    The Leader turned around and said that we all will have our lunch here.  He said, those who had their lunch with them, eat it there and those without to buy something.   I was sheepishly standing around bewildered thinking if at all I will be accepted back in the team.   The leaders suggestion of having lunch jolted me out of my reverie and dreams and things and threats of the moment became very real to me.

     I could never think of entering a tea shop and eat something as we were without money.  We never had it during our school times.  We only had books and writing materials.  We went near a tea shop at times only if we in need of cold drinking water, which were offered free of cost.  Apart from this, I still had my plate to collect my school lunch and it has become lunch time, which meant I may lost my school lunch.  I made a very bold decision then.  I decided to leave the team and face the consequences.  In any case, I had been dispelled by the leader.  All in the team were in side the tea shop where the leader were ordering some food for him and a few of the others who had not carried any food.

     I turned around and  walked fast to the school which was not far off.  As I reached the school gate the class master was coming out and he saw me.  He was a bit surprised and said why I am so late.  I mumbled some household problem and sneaked past him to the class room.  The classes had not   restarted after lunch.  Some of the other class fellows thought something is amiss and asked me.  I told some problem on the way had held me up etc.  But I did not have any answer to their further questions as to where are the others and the leader.

   Classes started.  My friends never appeared in class that day.  On return, I found them on the road but they did not speak to me that day.  Next day on wards we went to class as if such a thing never happened.  The Leader and one or two of the group enjoyed a smoke at times whenever they had the money. However, it never made any harm to our general going to the school.  (The only sad part was, non of them made much in life and some of them died young.  One of them, much much later in life acknowledged that "You made it because you broke away from us".  That was when I really felt sad for all of them).

Meeting a beggar at New Delhi Metro

Bharkhamba Road Metro is a busy station of Delhi.  One can take the metro from the Connaught place from this station to various station.  With some house hold work I landed up in the place and was to enter a building in the very hot sun when I walked a little to the nearby street to see what all are going on there!
There was a lot of knick knack sellers who sold all things about office stationery to all kinds of Delhi foods, mean fast foods which generally office goers looked for for a bite as entering a cafe or food court is not easy or reasonable to Delhi standards for the standard workers and office goers! 

That is when I noticed a beggar-man.  He was walking in my direction. The first  thought in my cruel mind was that he could be a crafty guy. But then he was so skinny, that he surprised any body who saw him that he still has energy left to stand up and walk.  The whole body was soiled and in tattered clothes and he had not seen water for long.  There was a girl giving him pieces of bread which he was leisurely munching.  Now that the girl has left him he is coming to beg himself! There was a soft voice in my mind telling me: Give him something. He is so poor in any case. My hand reached to my pocket and it came out with a two rupee coin. Now the man reached near me. I am ready with the two rupee and my mind is undergoing the great fight, give him something, no don’t give him. These kinds are like that only. They do not deserve better. I felt, I am in his position and he is in my position.

For a second, I thought myself to be in his position: I was eating the scrub of bread somebody had given my daughter. She said, Papa this is good. That gentleman over there gave me his left overs. Really good papa, do eat a little. You have not eaten anything since morning. So I started to eat it. I was walking in the direction of a group of people. On the way there is the silhouette of a man with a bag. While I was passing the silhouette with the bag I felt his handing nearing me. Instantaneously I showed my hand. There may be something he may be wanting to give me. The silhouette told me “here” and I extended the hand in that direction and lo! There is a two rupee coin. God has been kind today as ever. A two rupee coin. A meal costs only twenty rupees at concession. That too we have to buy only if the hotel does not have any left overs. I was happy. A few more two rupees and I can buy a fresh meal today. My two daughters will enjoy. And if they can’t finish it my wife can join. I do not need fresh food. I can eat all kinds of left overs unless they are stale. I digest anything. I am a worm. A worm eats anything. Our human position is not very important in this town. There is no Mother Theresa around here. Here all are human, very busy in their day to day affairs. There is not even place to stand in one place here in this city these days. This is not the old city of yesteryears! I moved on.

Once back in my position -It was automatic. I could not prevent myself from extending my hand and trying to put the coin in his hands. His hand was extended but not in my direction. I made a sound to attract his attention and his hand came in my direction. I put the coin in his hand!! I could not believe myself. The man was totally blind but for seeing a shadow. What further can be done? What ..what further. I have my urgent works on hand. I only thought of seeing this place around to acclimatise myself, if ever I had to visit this place again. I slowly walked away with a last look. The skeleton man’s wife, a stocky black lady had assembled her two darkish looking girls aged 8 and 12 around her and were seriously discussing about their business of begging. The skeleton man was still munching the bread parts of which falling from his mouth, and some showing up around his lips as he was unaware of the sight.

I reached near him and showed the coin. His long slender hand came forward and accepted it. There was a look of helplessness and a feeble smile on his face.

I qucily walked in the direction of the Metro train. I can’t wait! I have urgent work to do like all others!!

In the Metro coach, my mind was still around the forty forty five year old darkish skeleton of the man munching his bread and his wife and his little daughters happy and discussing ways and means under the hot sun with the temperatures soaring at forty five degrees!! How they will find a way of life and survive was a question which troubled me for long.

Nostalgia!

Return journey from Delhi was always nostalgic!  One year would have gone by, when I return home!    Jayanthi Janata starts from the Hazrat Nizamuddin station at seven in the morning.   Coming to the station gives a heady feeling, a feeling of expectation, a feeling of unexplainable joy!  The early auto rikshaw ride is always cool.  Once in the station, walk with a friend or room mate to the Station canteen for tea and snacks. Then go and sit in the train already in the platform.   All the train was full of second class only (which changed later).

The train pantry had a wonderful set of people as staff who ascertained our seats as soon as we entered.  Thereafter a rappo starts with their bringing us time to time meals and tea all the time.  We enjoyed a lot of tea, the very nice tea served by an all Malayali group of pantry car bearers who were always affable (This changed lately.  All kinds of odd guys started coming and the affability was gone).  Once the train started moving we looked on to see the sights around, the train passing Tuglakabad, Faridabad to Palwal and picking up speed.  The sun started to rise up and it started to get warmer and warmer.

 We looked on to see the Sikandra Fort by the side of which the train passed.  The train ran and ran with all kinds of little traders entering and departing the train from time to time.   We had fruit juice at Vijayawada or Warrangal.  Bought oranges at Nagpur. Purchased ground nuts and gauvas in Andhra.  By Tamil Nadu we are tired of waiting to reach Kerala and this is the second night we are spending in the train.  Many people played playing cards.  I disliked the card games.  Many beggers came and begged at different stations regularly. Some of them blessed you, some came with blesses and when they did not get anything cursed and left.  A few children's gangs led by their leaders or parents came to show small acrobatics after drumming for a few seconds and started asking for alms! If they got less, their leader or parent punished them severely, taking them to the entrance area of the coach where they rested until they got out at the next station.

Some beggers somewhat better dressed brought small printed cards and left them in the train seats for the travellers to read and make their own assumptions and help them.  They invariably collected the cards back before they asked for help.  Then there were sellers of different kinds of wares from playing cards, tooth picks, ear cleaners, chains to secure your boxes in the train, locks, soaps, tooth brushes and tooth paste and assorted other items.  They all came and went from time to time after selling their wares as much as they could.  These were always the norms in the Jayanthi Janata at that time.  


The feeling of the lost world will fill the mind when we think of home.  The smell of Kerala will start from Coimbatore.   The train will pass under a number of criss-crossing over bridges and enter the Coimbatore station.  There will not be many people awake at that time as it will be generally early morning hours!  Some die hards, interested in travel will be up and looking through the windows searching for little lights far away or checking for houses or people if any being seen.

After the Station  the train will be running through darkness with the eastern sky turning slowly crimson which filled my heart with a kind of joy that I am reaching home again.Father and Mother waiting for me, brothers and sisters discussing my return etc. etc.   I will always be up and anxious to see the Walayar Station which is a boundary station.  There after the mountainous terrain on either side of the train will be panoramic, dipped in the morning due and foggy blue far away!  The Palghat Station always filled our hearts with joy!  It is morning by now.  The Bharatapuzha on the way will give way and we reach Shoranur where a piece of the train is detached and joined to some other train going to Mangalore! 

At Palghat the smell of fresh Pazhampori (fried bananas) used to come.  In those days, the train used to reach Palghat around seven or eight in the morning.  It was nice to have a first bite of the fried banana and follow it with the best of teas which were available in those days!!  The present method of cheating by giving a paper cut with over sweet milk liquid and a throw tea bag in it with below measure quantity was not there then!  Tea was always served in glass tumblers which were washed and reused.  That hygiene is now gone! That has become nostalgia now.

Then we passed on to Wadakkanchery and Mulloorkkara with the peacock dance of the trees and plants greenery on either side of the train and one awaited the board of Poomkunna where the train stopped for two minutes.  The station which did not have a plat form in those days!  There after it majestically crawled into the Trichur Station where we heard the Malayalam of the Trichurians in its traditional sing song slow slithery sweet manner where everything was still, peaceful, no urgency for anything style!

Once on the platform or even before it, every one wanting to disembark start looking intently at the platform to see if any of the relatives or brothers or sisters or even parents have come to receive him and find one or more of them and are overjoyed.   But the general difficulties of travel mostly limit the receivers to one at a time and the arriver really get elated by the sight of the relative or friend.   But as time passes by at times, there will be no body even though how hard one looked, and slowly a kind of unhappiness and pessimism creep in.   Once on the platform, I take a deep breath, the same old air, which I was missing so far for the last one year, the old air of trichur full of oxygen, the smell of paddy fields and cut grass.  The smell of the mango leaves and cashew nut trees!  The breeze that comes touching several coconut trees!  Then some one came close to as in your ears "Saare vandi vende, evidekka?" (Sir, you need a vehicle? Where to?)   He will be asking as if he is your brother or near relative.  It is common in Trichur when they need a fare.   I looked at him.  He really looked like my brother.   Very thin built, a khaki shirt on.  I can make out that he may be a taxi or auto rikshaw driver.  


I asked him "How much to Ollur?"  He won't answer straight "All that we can settle later, Sir"  That gives me the danger bell.  Now I have to be careful with him.  He is going to take my brotherhood for a ride, indeed!

"OK.  If you tell me how much it is, we can walk further" saying this I put down my suit case and stop walking.

He comes back "Oh..Sir.  I never charge more.  Only sixty rupees."

"All right..Go on and find another ride for your car" I replied.

"Oh..Sir, we get something when people like you who are generous come down only"  This is a black mailing number which many a time works well.  But not with me.  I am dead se t not to throw away my meagre earnings to this brotherly guy for no reason.


I bargain now:  "Just understand, if you are on a level stand, you get a ride from me.  Twnety five ruppes or you leave and I can very well go by bus"

That bring him down.  "Sir, make it forty and we go"

"Think of it well.  Final, Thirty rupees for you. Otherwise the bus is waiting.Do not spend my time, if you are not serious"



Ultimately, he agrees for rupees thirty. Then I come out with him and he put my suit case in the boot and I climb into the back seat.   I sit elaborately in the back seat.  I am thrown into nostalgia.   Earlier times my brother or sisters used to come.  Now time has passed.   All have become tied up with their individual families with various household matters.The pleasant air was stroking me deepening my brotherly feeling to the only human being in the driver's seat.  He is a neat guy.  He is slowly turning and twisting the wheel and manoveuring with great ease.  He is a expert of course.  I start a conversation with him as always.  The best way to acclimatise me with the lost ground of the village is to start a conversation with the driver.   If he is a good talker, he will give a general picture of the place and by the time we part we would have become friends.

The important incidents in town, the building of the largest mall or greatest building, the terrific accident or rain havoc all will be referred to.  In between, there may be questions about me and my family too.  In old Kerala it is like that.  The Taxi Driver is also somebody belonging to some respectable family and they would want to know about the rider too.   Once it is given, if he is good and belonging to my own village will find out a couple of  my close relatives who is known to him and relate their relationship itself.  Earlier times, they used to know my father and will tell about him which used to make me happy.

But now a lot of time has passed after the death of my father, the village has progressed, new people have settled down in various pockets, the old people have either moved out or gone outside the State like me.  At times the guy may not know my people or near and dear.  Then the topic will shift to the conditions of the roads and the Government.Mostly the driver will become eloquent when it comes to roads in Kerala.  No one will say roads are good in Kerala.  The incessant rains always did its work and the roads get broken up.  The drivers suffer.  When it comes to Government, each driver will have his view point and suggestions how the Government should be run.   So also their grievance agains the Police who trouble them at times.   If the Driver become too critical on any subject, I change the subject and steer to some good and hilarious conversation and slowly we turn the last road corner to my by-lane, pushing up my nostalgia.  The bamboo clusters on the road turnings are gone!

New houses have come on the block.   New people around.  Some of the thorn hedges of compounds have been replaced with stone walls.  People are slowly changing and wanting to bring up stone walls among them.  Now the car reached in front of my half finised house, which we always called the "pani theeratha veedu"  The Driver has become a friend by now.

He comes back to the boot and take out the suit case.  He addresses me: "Appo sheri saare.  njan  potte"  (So, right Sir, Let me go) This meant, it is time that I paid him.  I pay him the designated thrity rupees.  He takes it and looks at the money, count it and look down and say again "Appo....Sheri Saare,  Varatte.."
This is a prompt to allow me to give him anything further, if I want.  His face is without a smile.   I pull out a ten rupee note and give him.  Once it was in his hand, his face let up as if the full moon has come up on the blue skies.I know this.   Every time I come, this is repeated. This is another nostalgia.

Mother will be standing at the door looking at me intently!  She always kept on looking out from the door if I am coming.   Once I settle down, it is as if, I have come back forever!  I normally do not open my suit case or any thing when I come.  Just put it in the corner of the room.  I go and settle down on the corner of the bench near the huge table where father used to sit.   Now, mother sits there when I am not there.  When I come, I sit there and she stands on the other side of the table.  Even if I tell her to sit she will not.   She will just stand there opposite me saying "let me see you"   For a long time she will stand there and then she will find out that I am tired.  Then she will just go inside the kitchen and come back with the black tea and put it in front of me!  I start taking the tea, as if I have just come to have tea!  It is an endearing action repeated every time I come home.

Then the fish fellow will call "Poooyi"  Mother will ask "you have some money, I shall buy some fish".  When I come, there after, I make it a point that I pay for these small things, which alleviate a little of my brother's burden, who looks after the house, otherwise.  Mother is happy!  Then she will start slowly narrating the incidents around the house, the village, the church, the convent,  and the town city of Ollur. Those stories will take me through the 20 days of my leave time.   I get the feel of going through an intense film movie and then I pack up  for the return which is always painful!!



The day before my departure used to be a kind of festival.  Mother will arrange all kinds of foods she can and fry the recipes which I like.  Mainly are the achappams and kozhalappams (Two kinds of rice receipes, which I still know only to eat and enjoy..making them are difficult and takes a lot of patience and perseverance, which mother had) which she packed in biscuit tins which I brought from the market.  These are for me to carry with me to Delhi.  The day of parting, she will stand opposite me serving my food and asking that painful question.  "Now, when are you coming next?"  that is a really painful question, as I was a part in the house always evident in each and every single particle there.  I will pretend to be happy and answer "Coming here is not as difficult and all as in the olden times, you just say and I am here"  My mind cried out loud at a super decibel which nobody could hear!  But all that pretention did not fool mother.   She slowly said " I will watch the calendar, to see when you are coming next."  That was a real fact.  And that is the same with most of the parents left back in Kerala, if their loved ones are away.

By the time I finish lunch, she would be packing a special pack of food for me in the plantain leaf from our back yard and that is the last meal from home in that trip while returning.   This I usually took after settling down in the return train and when the dinner time arrived around eight o' clock.  My eyes used to well up while I ate that meal alone as otherwise I would be taking it with all at home. I ate slowly and deliberately, remembering each word that transpired  among us in the house. 

Luckily such soliloquies did not last long as there would be a lot of other passengers and a few will be just near by who would be in conversation and I also used to join in and suppress my anguish and family thoughts for the time being.   Slowly a family camaraderie pick up among the co-travellers and me.