Reading The Roots - 'Verukal'

The book called 'Verukal'...The roots.

The old novel by Malayatoor Ramakrishnan. Malayatoor as he is popularly known, had written this novel towards the end of his literary career. As is well known in Kerala, he was a member of the IAS and a very senior beaurecrat. From among many of his books, this book seems to be the reflection of his life..!

The angst of a middle aged man when he looks back to his life of youth and childhood, any of us would go through such experiences, which are silently recorded in our minds to be buried wiith us in our graves, when our departed near and dear would rejoice with us on it! Such a situation makes it an unusual story of ayone in any circumstance. Here the author belongs to a Brahmin family, but with relatives of all sorts, rich, poor educated and some in very precarious circumstances.

He paints his Paatavu, Paattti (Grand father and Grand mother) and his own Dad in so colourful paint that they starts living in our hearts and we also feel the pain and love they impart. Through them, we also start seeing in our minds our own Grand mothers and Grand fathers who gave us too much love in their own way and our dads and moms who did everything for us sacrificing themselves!

Nine in Hundredand Fifteen

Nine is Chapter 9, Hundred and Fifteen is Page number 115. Just reached Chapter 9. Only reached, not read as yet. As it takes time to read in this busy world of too many other urgencies like TV, mobile, inter net and all. But the reading shall continue, nonetheless! By the time I reached one hundred and fifteen, the main character of the novel had been through college almost. But not fully. With the candidness of an open youth, he relates his escapades while away to town and college of smoking and slowly trying to quench his curiosity of drinking, first with the local desi 'arrack' and then with the other English liaquor forms like Gin and Whisky. He gets a friend in college called Rajappan who decides run away from the college uninformed and he joins with him in his running away without much thought as all youths do to face the reality later the hard way. As there was no chance of his having heard the story of the 'prodigal son' he slowly sees the reality in the far off city of Madurai (It was a far off city in those days when travel facilities were not this far as we have now) where his friend gets selected to the Army and he is left high and dry as he himself could not get selected. The hardships clears his head and he comes to reality and wise as he is, he takes the decision taken by the prodigal son by returning to his father and home where every body was living only half way due to his unannounced absence from college. That was a time when phone and other facilities were not as prevalent andhis return fills them with new hope.

As we read, if we are in the elderly group, we will be filled with emotions of our youth times and later lifes and we can see our parents whom we may also have pained in some way or the other and the great silent way in which they would have suffered it and still smiled at us and would have discussed among themselves as to what would have happened to us and if we have to be treated for the mild little derangement of youthhood as some one jelous may have tried to poison their loved son through some desi foods etc. In the further treatment in which everyone in the family and near relatives take part it is definitely established (?) that 'yes, it is certainly some body poisoning their loved one which was reason for his loss mind and consequent running away. The boy is treated with ayurvedic medicines and treatment methods in which it is shown that some spirit is in possession of the boy and that spirit is sent away by a priest (temple pujari) which appeases all in the family especially the parents.

The School Photograph..!

The School photo graph

The photographer came at five o' clock. He was slated to come from the city town. We were small children studying in class six in those days. We were told that he would come in the late afternoon and we should be ready for photo-graph after the school.

So all of us waited with baited breath to hear the final bell. Once it sounded all went out running to take their baths and get ready for the photograph. This was the first time a photograph was being taken. There was no taking of photographs in those days. Children were seen directly only. Now the photographer is coming. !

All of us and the two elderly brothers all came ready after their baths and getting dressed in our best clothes. The bath was quickly accomplished at the well side. We were trained for that. One of us will draw the water from the deep well and pour on another one who will be standing in a small Kerala bath towel at the waist. One or two more little buckets of water will finish the bath of one. The the one bathed will repeat the process for the other. All went for their dressing which included a small shorts and a slack shirt and bit of the Cuticura  carefully preserved in our little boxes. Once ready all assembled in front of the residential school and arranged a cou;le of benches. That was the seating arrangement.

The Master ji gave orders for the fine tuned arrangements. Small children sat in front row, the teachers and medium boys on the benches and the tall students stood behind. The three rows made it it all. A football which we used to play was filled up and brought. The year '1964' was chalked on it and it was kept in front with a small trophy cup which the school had won in a local boys match on top of it.

In between the photographer came. A white shirted middle aged man was the photographer. He came in a rikshaw being pulled by another man who respectfully put down his side of the rikshaw on the ground and helped the traveller in his rikshaw to get down. Once he came down, the rikshaw puller took out a huge box and gave it to him. This was the photography camera. He brought it in front of us children who were arranging ourselves. He surveyed us and moved to a distance and opened the box to pull out a black box and a wooden contraption. He manouvered the wooden stuff and made it into a huge tripod and settled it in front of us children. He came close to Master ji and murmered to him to get us seated according to height and moved back to his box and stand.

Once at the stand he picked up the black box and settled it on top of the tripod and covered it with a black cloth, similar to a blanket. The camera box had a glass eye facing us. Once the blanket was in position he went under it from behind the tripod stand and started to moved the stand back and forth and settled in a place in a wy he thought was best for the capture of a picture. Then he started to do something with the box. Master ji told us that he is adjusting the length of the box. Once that was over he came in front and looked at all of us who were sitting like statues with eyes bulging out to see what he will do next! He told us to sit in relaxed positions and went near the camera cloth and removed the cloth from the front and removed a cap from the aperture eye. Now we could see the glass eye of the camera. The photographer went behind the camera once again under the blanket and started adjusting the box a little more. Then he settled that and once again covered the camera glass with a black cap.

The he went down to his box again and brought out a slate sort of frame and took it inside the blanket. Once inside, the Master ji explained to us that he was fixing the film. The man came out with the frame in his hand which he kept back into his box. Now he became very serious! He came near us looking at each one of us.

He pulled down some ones face a little, pushed up some others faces, told some of us to be more relaxed. He even went to the Master ji and physically turned his face a little. To some he told to turn their faces a little to the left or right etc. Then at a point he said ready and moved back to his camera. Once near the camera he surveyed all of us from left to right and said: “Now I will say 'Smile Please' – and then all of you should smile, ok?”

This was going to be the moment. All of us kept ready to do our Smiles and he slowly, ever so slowly, facing us put his hand on the eye cap of the camera eye and looking at us said 'Smile Please' and we all smiled. This was the first time somebody was telling us to smile and all of us pulled our lips to both sides and stood with the blandest of smiles and kept on standing like that. In the mean time the photographer removed the camera eye cap in a jiffy and covered it again. Then he turned to us in a relaxed form and told us “Sabaash” ! The Master ji got up and told us that the photograph is over. That was the first photograph which was ever taken in our life.

We were told that a proof will be available after a week and then the real photo will be available in a month when each one will get our copy on payment of its value of one Rupee each.

When it came it was a great photograph with the Master ji sitting in great style in the middle sitting row and all others in their respective place. I was in the front sitting with my lips pulled maximum to both sides presenting a large smile as much large as I could! It hang on our little house wall for many years with the football in front with '1964' written in chalk on it until we lost it to the photo-framer who had been entrusted with it for a new frame.

Sri Sriiganesha Mahima, a book by Maha Sweta Devi - a great read..!

Maha Sweta Devi, the great Novelist Philanthrophist... Sri Sriganesha Mahima.. A great read. ..!

Small book of about one hundred and ninety pages with the yesteryear Bihar and its villages drawn up in simple words.

The little girl 'Lechima' touches our hearts as of all other could have been souls in that stature in that part of the world. The old 'zemindaari' is drawn up in such clarity that the effects will make an imprint on all readers who goes through their pangs in simple detail. In between is slight traces of Government and authority as it was seen and felt by the author on her several interactions and visits to the various villages.

Lechima is engaged by a village elder to look after her house hold. The girl is got from her guardian on payment of little money and some articles and the girl starts working in the house of 'Medini Singh'. As his two wives could not give him a boy child the house lord Medini Singh marries for a third time and this poor girl gives birth to a child with a tooth in the mouth at birth itself, which is taken as a prominence of 'devamsh' a belief in that part of the country, in that people believed the child is partly divine. Meaning that the child has a part of Lord Ganesha in him.

The mother of the child dies of shock after seeing the child, immediately after the child birth.

Lechima who was the house keeper, who also had to give in to the wishes of the house lord, Medini Singh, has now got to bring up the child till his marriageable age of ten years, a custom in olden times. She does it with great love and care and hopes to get released from the bondage of the house after the boy child gets married. 

Her hopes are belied when the house lord tells her that even after the child gets married she just can't leave as she has to look after the household until the newly married girl comes home after his son Sri Sri Ganesha reaches the age of eighteen., which is the custom. Lechima is crestfallen as her plan to set up home after getting married to the village barber youth will have to be thrown away now. She slowly reconciles to her fate and once again looks after the household during which time the house lord Medini Singh slowly fades away due to paralysis, exhaustion and old age sickness and the new house lord, 'Sri Sri Ganesha' takes his place with new vigour and makes a name for himself in 'Zemindari' and leadership, which his father had earlier, in which the poor people around the place are much more harshly affected.

One has to go through the book to get a real feel of the story as the whole story can be understood and only through a cover to cover to read.

The Morning Newspaper....!

The morning newspaper comes early in the morning if it is on times. At times it may not arrive on time with the vendor-distributor and then it may get late affecting all of us readers badly. But mostly, by and large, by all means it falls at our door at five thirty in the morning, by the grace of the enterprising youngster who finishes distribution by six thirty in the morning to start his regular work of running his shop till noon to go to college in the afternoon ..! That is some enterprise. But he does it.

Once he distributes he may have more people who waits for him, especially those in retirement and old age, wanting eagerly to know what has happened to the world the day before, and also to know what will happen to the world tomorrow as visualised by the newspaper houses. A fair paper we read is one with a large circulation and once in hand we are appeased. The front page shows us the two faces of the Galaxy (of course not the real Galaxy but the mobile phone called Galaxy) and we are enthralled and we are told we can get it on flipcart. I will not write the price, mentioned, here..! Many consider it a great price if not a big price.

Times have changed these days. These are new times. Oldies will never understand. We used to stand in line to pay the telephone bills which cost us two hundred Rupees or more and started a conversation with the next man or woman in line about the exhorbitent charges ..! Now no body talks about the exhorbitent charges or the price of the phone. A telephone had to be booked in advance remitting one thousand Rupees and had to wait for installation. The line men came and fixed the cable line for the phone and fixed it at a place we mentioned and also gave us a directory which contained almost all the names and numbers of the users in the city. That is unheard of now. We could find out a long lost friend or acquaintance from the telephone directory, if he or she had started living in that city by merely chasing their name in the directory which had all the names arranged in the alphebetical order.

Those cute huge directories found their way to the 'accri' shop (The shops which buy residue materials and used items including old newspaper etc.) owner and since trees are not to be cut any more, no more directories are coming out.

After the whole page of 'Galaxy' next turn over is to show us the availability of parathas, ready to eat available in the local super market. The convenience quoted is that you don't have to make it but can have it and just warm it to eat! Great items. Then starts the news I was waiting for avidly.After the name and date of the paper and iits emblem I have the four urgent needs little bits just below them mentioning about the next would be American President and something about the top cricketers' achievement which is equal to another top cricketer. Then the flip flaps in various parties in the nation and other troubles elsewhere. Below before I t a turn over I have hope for home loan by a major bank and a top ditergent liquid.!

Browsing on I find beautiful poetical advertisements with interspersed news on flight tickets, eye testing, health improvement and fertility enhancement. They are followed by cars and computers with new additions here and there with matching poetry with prices which or ok for the advertisement and for well erning youngsters but not to the interest of old people with old mind sets who saw them as simply an object for simple movement to be sparingly used. In between there are troubling news, happy news, do goodders' news and philanthropical news!

An area of one of the pages show a lot of obituary photographs which throw us into down memory lane to think what all those in the photographs would have studied and worked at, whom all they would have helped etc. Etc. These are followed by matters of taxes and savings, a bit of climate which of course interest us to see, if we have to keep an umbrella while going out! The views and cartoons really help us to find a balance in the whole reading directing us at the proper directions we have to take. The cartoonist does it in the most simple way by telling it all in a small area which covers the entire happening of the day..! Kudos to them, the cartoonists who tell so much through so little and enthuse any one with amind to enjoy them. They are followed by more news of the day before and interspersing pointers are about investments invitations to various states. The paper comes to the conclusion of its first section now with the ubiquitous advertisement in colour and poetry for scooters and motor cycles which we are told is a great presentationwith economy, mileage and celebration, you know it all..! Wow. The paper of the morning is a great enjoyment satisfying our hunger for news and views these days. So I pack of my paper to read later at ease, starting from page one again, this time I shall have to ready a few additional pages called metro plus (this is additional to the main paper) and some other small trivia sectiion along with a city section.

Let me stop writing now, and proceed to read it early complete it as I wish every day, as I have to read tomorrow's paper tomorrow..!

Traveling to Chennai!

Traveling to Chennai is a nice experience always. The wait at the station has become better with WiFi at the station. The only hiccup is the evening mosquitoes which come unannounced to bite us to fill their tummies with blood. They are blood robbers. The earlier the train comes the better for the travellers.
During the day they do not come out for fear of the day light.
The WiFi told the train is 34 minutes late. It rolled in at the newly stipulated time.  The coach was two coach behind than announced. We took to our heeks with our luggage and scrambled.

The compartment was pretty neat amp

The old man and the little baby!

The palm leaf horn was lying on the centre table. There are a few palm leaf fans with their stock in place ready to turn with sight wind lying around. A small baby coconut twister, used by little boys to play was also lying around. They will all dry up in course of time.

They were all made to enthuse the little baby of the old man's son whom he used to play with. The little one definitely understood the old man and he waited to see dawn to play with him. The old man lived in the village and his son and daughter in law had come down from the city a nights travel away, with their baby boy to spend small vacation. Now they have travelled back. The toys and their left overs are lying around to be removed.

In the city, children get Chinese toys and plastic stuff which does not have much of natural things in them. Mostly nylon, plastic, electrical writing, and together combinations of light and sound to keep little ones happy.

The little family of the old man's son left the day before by train which came half an hour late. The old man worried about their position in the train which was next to the entry. Warned his children again and again about looking after the baby and their luggage etc. to the extend of making them mad! The old man was well used to the trains. That is why he wanted to warn the children. But his children were well used to travel themselves but the old man was anxious about the baby whom he considered his friend now! Old people are like that. They slowly move away from the grown ups and moved towards the little ones who interact better with them!

The train moved away slowly leaving a vacuum and a lot of dust in the Station. The old man checked his phone if it was properly 'on' to receive a call from his children to say everything was all right.  Of and on he picked up the phone from his pocket to check if a call has been gone unheard.  'No.' No calls.  He drove his car silently manouvering the on coming traffic with high beams on. Once in heavy traffic he forgot about the phone call.  His mind raced to the times he used to go by train generally been seen of by any of his family members.  There were no phones like mobile phones in those days.  A land line phone was a rarity.  The normal mode of communication was an 'inland letter' which could be purchased from the post office and written and posted with the village home address on it.

After four days or a week, the village post man brought that letter home and mother waited for the elder children to come home to read it.  Father was told that the letter has come and everything is well.  They were people with brave hearts, who have left for their heavenly abodes.  But not this old man.  He has seen a few of the phones and their transition into mobile phones.  Once he thought of the old times he became brave.  No need to worry.  At home he and his wife had a silent meal and prayer before hitting the bed.  Next morning he got the message:  "Well, in car towards home" !  The old man was appeased! He heaved a sigh and murmured:  "The new times"

A Morning in Chennai..!

The morning in Chennai was cold after the rain and thunder of the night! There was no sign of any rain in the evening before, but all on a sudden the whole of it started when it was time to go to bed and it sent me straight into deep sleep. The off and on lightning and thunder only had minimal effect on me as I mistook them for possible late comers driving over lose cement slabs of the condominium and their lights. They came in all hours and at times there is a terrific motorcycle maniac shooting off or shooting in after his day's tiring work.

In the dream I dreamt of the book I was reading, a fun book by one Bryson, a humorist, which my son had brought for me to keep me in good humour! A book of humour is always welcome with me. My gratefulness found no bounds. But when I opened the book, the first humour was that the first thirty pages are gone and I had difficulty completing the immediate morning ablutions, in hand. I took it as part of making humour at the beginning of a book, of course, the Author and Publisher do not know about it as it happened with constant use in the library. The book I had inspected well reading the back cover first as always, watching the front cover and the immediate inner page which said many things including the small letters on piracy policy etc. This made me think of a great feast of reading, when I really set to it. And here I am with the first thirty pages missing. The thirty first page onwards did not dishearten me as the writer also seemed to be having all kinds of difficulties which I too had been facing in life. He lived in London and its suburbs and I lived in my place in Chennai. Occasionally I went to Kerala or Delhi to re-enter Chennai or any of the other two places anew!

This gave me a great feeling even though travel is tedious! The author Bryson spoke about parking difficulties, finding street names, the normal to be expected from cabbies etc. Etc. These things change here according to people and climate. We never could enjoy parking difficulties earlier, but now we are progressing and we get good parking difficulties and loss money on that count in most of the places! Scratches, accidents or cruel looks are bonus in this exercise! Earlier there were times we never could enjoy parking difficulties and any body parked any where as only a few possessed the four wheel running machines. In the villages the running machines were only bullock carts which were only walking machines usually. Once in a while when the driver is a youth or youngster and in his mood, he made the cart to run by beating at the bullocks or showing a show off to the bullocks to terrorize them. Not any more, now the animal protection groups are in place, and no driver or assistant would dare to beat a bullock!

Now every body travels light and in cars, not the bullock carts, the four wheel contraptions with fire in side.!

I have no inclination of describing London or 'the underground' as we have our own city and various kinds of stuff to complicate or simplify morning and evening life.! Everybody faces it every day and some of them write it down in news papers which help us in the morning ablutions. Those who do not understand the news are a happy lot and they live life king size and enjoy. Those who understand are always anxious, if the satellite will reach on time, whether the signals will decrease phone charges, a new system of rule will decrease petrol charges etc. Etc. Some even look for the down trend in the vegetable prices, home prices et al. But the only price coming down is the TV price and with every TV it is a new connection for the cable net work which will be another monthly bill..!

Once we come out and catch the OMR life begins in strict earnest.  We are spaced properly by the various red lights, police posts and the ultimate good will of all the road users who generally cooperate and go well with one another. at the Sholinganellur red light one can catch up with the head lines of the newspaper but not the deep news as one has to keep moving to readjust one's position and be ready to move when the red light changes into green. A couple of toll booths on the way re-arrange your speed and have your road test done as one has to pass through the narrow lanes paying the toll booth dues!

After the driving tests at the toll passes you are ready to take on Chennai proper by taking the Adyar road giving a right turn just before Tidel Park and then making a number of lefts and rights.  If one is patient enough and have enough petrol, it would be wise keeping behind a bus going in the direction one wants.  After a number of turns and narrow but well done roads (one has always be careful of pot holes which may creep up in-spite of the best efforts of the authorities) the Marina Beach will welcome you with its nice breeze and you are near the main city.  There after the drive will be better.  The roads are more straight and one has to take occasional turns as one wants.  But still, it will take some time to get acclimatised with the roads and the place.!

The elusive brake..!

The bicycle was not fast but my friend in class five was coming against me, who was on testing myself and my friend was also doing the same.  Both of us yelled to each other "brake pidikkoo.." (apply the brake..!).  But both of us could not find the brake and my friend fell infront of me and I rode over him to go a little longer and fall down.  That scene ended in both our trainers coming running up and helping us to get up and also setting our little bicycles right.

Next was the second session in which we were having our session on the road. In this we were to ride down the main high way (which was only a simple tarred road then) in which all kinds of vehicles plied.  We had fellow friends to watch over us in that we should not fall on the route.  I was driving on my return trip as I had successfull completed the onward drive.  Half the way was a padam on either side (padam - paddy field) of the road and a huge transport bus was approaching  from behind. There was a cute car coming from the front.  We drive on the left here and as the car was on the extreme right I presumed the bus will come closer to me.  So I have to give side and move more to the left.  A gentleman going in front of me was walking with a packet on his right hand.  In my giving more side to the huge bus and closing in on the gentleman in front, I frantically wanted to brake but it was not to be seen.  And Lo.. I went straight under the hand of the gentleman in front of me to the left and went straight down the side canal of the road which had water in it and was full of water plants.!

The bus and car passed and a hand lifted me from among the water plants.  I was shivering and was also afraid.  I asked the gentleman:  "Are you hurt?"
He replied with the same question: "Are you...hurt..?"  .  I said no.  Then he said: "I have children like you at home.  If they go against some one I don't want them to get hurt" "So you drive safely and reach your place.  But from here, do not bicycle on the main road.  Walk with your bicycle until the bye-lane.  Then you can ride!"  That was a time, fifty years back...making me mesmerized when I think back..! 

But the good thing is I became very keen about the brake thereafter ..! Till date I have kept it up and also advised my near and dear to please hold on to your brake in any eventuality in driving as that is the first and foremost life line in driving.

But when one first rides a bicycle the first thing coming to ones sight is the front tyre moving forward which sends the adrenalin surging even though it is only a bicycle! The trainer always advised not to look on the wheel but far ahead on the road and keep balance and eventually I did!

The Vegetable Market

The vegetable market is a place where the ladies of the house galore and have their time in buying the required vegetables for the house hold and thus keep their hegemony on their homes. The way to the market is well defined and the time is always in the evening. As a matter of course, the women get themselves ready and go for the ritual by themselves if their husbands are at work, or sons are away etc. But those who can get their spouses to accompany them are more happy as they can be used to carry the bought out stuff and also to work as the moving ATM.

The husbands who have not gone for this ritual usually escape the monotony of waiting for their wives at the shop door or move with ther women while the women select the required items. Many shop keepers have sensed this prejudice of women in selecting the best of the vegetables presented and allow them into the shop to do their selection! Those shopkeepers who do not like women come inside the shop and select their vegetables are consiidered rude and women usually despise such shops. Their pretext have been very right in the sense their husbands have later found out to their diismay that the vegetables which were so lovingly and quickly bought turned out to be rotten and only half of the purchased item were usefull.

One of those days, Ramu set out with his wife for the normal custom of getting vegetables. The shop was four kilometres away and a small bus ride took them to the dustry market agog with the hustle and bustle of vegetable sellers, the regular vegetable shops, grocery shops, the fish sellers and all other kinds of every day ware. The time and place is a good time spend for any one having not much other work. But the dust and cheeck by jowl vehicles of all sorts make it very uninteresting these days as Ramu soon found out.

Since the ritual has to be somehow performed he moved with his wife with then obedient stature of a good husband and the lady entered the shop. At the entry, she handed over the bags to Ramu and went in. Ramu simply followed her with the express intention of helping out. The first item to be purchased was the 'french beens' which is an item for the usual 'thoran' or side vegetable dish. She checked each been with the alacrity of an engineer inspecting his plans for a new building. In a matter of fifteen minutes the selection was over and she moved to the next item, the tomatoes. Tomatoes these days can't be simply relied upon. The heap will have both good and rotten, the ripe and over ripe as well as the non performing stiff ones. In another half an hour most of the fruits were inspected and half a kilogram of the stuff was collected. The next items was the underground yam which in any case has to be inspected only by sight as these are huge lumps from which as much is cut out and weighed. If the yam is good the colour will be white and if it is not that good, the colour will be reddish. Here the colour was white which made the selection easier. In an hours's time the selection was over and Ramu was pulling out the cash for the bill, when his wife suddenly found another item for the house hold, namely, the 'bhindies' (the ladies finger).

That was the last item but Ramu was at his wits end. Bhindies are a love with all cautious ladies shopping. The modus operandi is checking most of the bhindies in the lot by pressing each one of them and slighting breaking a little part at the end of the bhindi. The young bhindies will break instantaneously where as the older ones will not break that easily and are naturally discarded. This exercise usually took some time, even though, the shopping ladies usually took it as routine. The shop keepers, meaning, the good shop keepers, never complained as they knew it these women who brought business to them and kept it running in good form. If one looked only for men folk shopping much of his ware won't be sold as men coming to buy vegetables are few and far between in India. But not so with ladies. If there is a house hold there is a lady and if there is a lady, she will shop for vegetables which is her prerogative. With husband or without, they will shop for vegetables. If the husband is available he will come for accompaniment and helping out and will be generally harmless.

Ramu thought of the good old times when he used to go for the market and buy his whole lot of vegetables in half an hours time and ”Where are you lost, don't we have to move for groceries and fish?” He mumbled “oh..oh...” and moved with her to the next shop carrying a bag of vegetables. On the way, there was the knick knack vendor where his wife mumbled in his ear, “just a minute”..and was simply lost in selection of little knick knacks from a hair pin to hair band to so many other little things .... thise is can take quite some time.....Now Ramu has stopped thinking and was at solemn ease.. The has ended for Ramu as it will be still later they completed their whole urchase for the day....and he decided “So be it”

Out on the road in Chennai..!

      Eating the road dust is a big problem in Chennai if one is out on the road walking.  As long as one does not consider it as anything, no problem.  The buses ply regularly and side by side are all kinds of huge vehicles whose power and numbers have increased manifold from the time of R.K. Narayan novels.  Now there is a new found energy and concept among the people who want to get things done fast and quick.

So, there is construction all around, from buildings to bridges, roads to clover leaves and so on. All these throw up dust and we are free to have it. The buses jostle with cars and in between are the bikes, scooters, mopeds, three wheeler scooters, the water carriages, bicycles and et all.  They all go hand in hand.  Mini buses among them are the solace to help people to reach destinations if one is without his or her own vehicle.

The miracle is, with all that the traffic still go smooth.  But the health of those on the road has taken the brunt along with the traffic officers and road side vendors.  Accidents do happen so many number of times in with the two wheeler drivers are hit more often.  Among all that, those who drive on two wheelers and scooters with gay abandon, zigzagging among other vehicles leaves me speechless..!

Nostalgia II

Elsie chechie is no more.  It was she who gave me Two hundred and twenty five rupees to buy my first bicycle.  It was a time Kerala was a beautiful place and families had their own simple love relationships with a lot of children in the family and the parents bringing up the children woth lots of love and less money.

One good thing of the time was the grown up of the families who got into various jobs helped those without it.  That was how I was getting my first bicycle's money from my sister who was employed by that time.  One fine morning she asked me if I would like to own my own bicycle.  Till then, I was getting a bicycle on need based from a local shop on rent.  The rented bicycles were good but to own one and that too a new one at that was a treat by any means in those days.

She brought brand new notes and I smelled it, as it was from her Income Tax Office where she worked.  But all the same, it was Two hundred and twenty five rupees.  I shop off to my eleder brother's house to ask him to accompany me to the Trichur Town City to buy my NEW bicycle. Being a pious guy he got up from the work which he was doing, pulled on a shirt and started walking with me, discussing various shops and bicycles which we will have to check for before getting the one we wanted.

We took the old 'Sreeramachandra' again and got down near the King's statue to cut across the 'Pooraparambu' also called the Thekkinkadu maidan to reach the south of the 'Round' ! People in that place only mentioned it as the 'round' which initially I could not digest.  They will say "I am going to the round"! What round?
You don't say exactly where.? Or is that that he may be wanting to go round and round  like a merry go round?  No..no..! Slowly the clear terms came to the fore.  It is 'Round South', 'Round North' etc. where the shops and businesses are located.

So we came to the Round South and got into the bicycle shop what was like a mini-scooter agency in those days.  We made enquiries and the price suggested took away the pride of having the amount for the first bicycle and all that.  It was Four hundred and sixty nine rupees.  God....! While I was looking at the guy with awe for suggesting such a sky-rocketing sum, he was simply standing there with an anxious look as if we may really buy it.  My brother saved the situation by telling him that we will call on again after making a few more inquiries. We moved to other shops were different other prices were mentioned.

We had started in the morning and now it is almost afternoon when my brother brought out his new idea.  He said he would catch High Road where he knew the shop of CM Joseph and in no time we were there.  The board said 'CM JOSEPH Cycle Store"  The owner guy, a simple person like my brother received us and asked us to be seated which we readily agreed and took our seats.  After our long walk in search of our heartfelt search, we were really wanting to sit somewhere.  The CM Joseph spoke on.  "Don't worry about the amount you have.  Just tell me how much it is, then, I can make a bicycle suiting your purse'"   That was a great suggestion.  We mentioned our amount and he came up with the most positive and colourful idea.  He said "We will have a "Hero" bicycle frame with various other assortment of parts.  The seat will be a large leather seat which will be cheaper than the other seats, he said.  So it was agreed upon and in a matter of two hours he and his assistants made a beautiful bicycle in front of our eyes, from fixing the wheel with spokes onwards to fixing it on the frame, leveling it on their leveler and owards the end fixed the beautiful large seat in green colour.

There were small green covers pulled on the brake handles, again green soft handle covers on the handle grips, two nice colourful coir flowers rounds in the hubs of the wheels, nice mud flaps etc.  We forewent the facility of a dynamo and connected light in front as we decided we will cut down on cost for the time being and will add it as an add on after wards as this will bring the bicycle really in our budget.

At last, the shop keeper handed over the bicycle to my brother (my eldest brother who was acting as my guardian for the time being) and he in turn struck on the seats a couple of times as if he was inaugurating it and said : "Ok...it has come out well.  Have this..!"  and gave it to me.  We started out of the shop and walked out towards the 'Round' again.  We still had some money left.  So he suggested we will have something to eat now.  We have worked hard till now.
We walked to the nearest tea-shop, olden times, hotels were few in Trichur, all were known as 'Tea-shops' . We had a 'masala dosa each and tea' and I could not wait to do the bicycle.  Once outside the shop, my brother said :  "Now you can, 'perhaps, go on your bicycle and I shall catch a bus, if it is ok with you?"

It was very much OK with me and he walked to the Bus stand called the Municipal Bus Stand which also had another King in the centre.  I for one, was on the bicycle, as soon as my brother was out of sight.  I reached home on 'Cloud Nine' that day!  That was the first and last time, me and eldest brother travelled together.  I still keep a bicycle of the same type for memories sake..!


Elsie Chechi saw through my progress on the bicycle and in life.... and was amply happy about it all through till her very end,, which came a few weeks ago.

Enjoyment of the Retirement Loves..!

Enjoyment of the Retirement Loves..!

The morning starts without programs. That is the first joy.  There is no set time to get up or go to sleep.  But one cannot sleep after day break as the birds on the trees around will start chirping so furiously, it would seem, their sole aim is to get me up on my feet.  The endless number of teas will be halted by the thuk of the news paper followed by a soothing ziik of two packets of milk being placed in a paper box kept for it by the morning newspaper youngster who it would seem does not sleep after mid night.  The young people!

Once the paper falls in front of the door, I can't wait, but to grab it and see if any body has slandered or said anything untoward any of the leaders around the world.People around the world do such silly things at times and such silly things are printed.  All the same, I go through it, before my eyes grab the local news of what happened in the neighbourbood and in the country.

"Killed, stolen, accident, prejudiced, abused, bitten, beaten, done for, broken, robbed, dacoited and all sorts of terrible things happened, and the authorities, police and all the other nice people on the other side trying to do everything possible to prevent them"  Spliced in between are the new drumming for all the goodie, goodies in the world from Gold, Jewellery, Cars, boats, buses, children's toys, ladies make up, saries, foods, hotel services, and all other kinds of services to houses, villas, flats, bungalows and farm houses all at low prices, with bank loans which is just for asking, and all other stuff which can be simply imagined most of them with a huge 'FREE' of a small little thing along with it. A small steel pin with a car, a beautiful greatly bewiching sticker 'for children' with all house hold items"

If this does not wake me up fully, I take one more cup of tea and go ouutfor my walk in which I see my son's car which is badly soiled.  Due to the wet roads and the cattle on thee roads, the car has accumulated a lot of diitch which has to be washed...My God.  To drive such a dirty car...Grr.   I am instantly at it, washing it out furiously.

I clean the floor of the car with a little poly broom and sweeping vessel, shower the car, wipe it with wet cloth and smoothen it with chamois and the car smiles when my son comes down to go to office.  "Oh..you have made it new"....his comment, and my day is made.!  My chest expands, my son drives out, and I am back to the house where my grand child is rolling in his bed, being too small to walk he throws his innocent smile at me and makes indecipherable sounds at me all meaning he wants me to be with him....It keeps on turn by turn ...and then we wait for my son to return from work.

Once he return all of us converse all the matters in the world, have prayer, food and more conversation and go to bed....and it repeats...Retirement is over.....
Good...no?
The sleep time is reminded by the umpteen number of frogs and insects around our house which start their choir by ten and continues till morning when daylight break out! It is a photo arrangement with them and nature. They are very regular at it so far. Children take it as a lullaby!











































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The Library

The library. The great Trichur Town Hall. Smell of books, endless number of them. Sign boards and flex boards of various programmes around. The great people reading books and newspapers. Altogether a reading atmosphere.

Reaching upto Trichur because of the Library, Ittikuru thought, and not going to the nearby Ollur. Ollur was Ittykuru's house. That house does not belong to Ittikkuru. It belonged to his father who is no more. Then it seemed to be home for a while when mother was alive. Her health slowly deteriorated and ultimately she was bed-ridden with side paralysis and then came the innevitable departure for her heavenly abode. She went smiling and peacefully. But those around her, including Ittikkuru felt the loss. She was a gentle soul always asking about the welfare of Ittykkuru and asking for nothing.

Mothers are like that. They never make any demands. From the very beginning they give. They start with their body and soul. Then anything coming to them are shared with their children. Ittikkuru felt like sobbing. But no, nobody cries out openly these days. That was all in the olden days. Now people are ashamed of every thing.

Ittykkuru came to the present when the Librarian smiled at him and said “Oh..you there..!” The Librarian is always like that. He worked for a small allowance, but for the love of books and the reading public. He always encouraged people to read. He never considered about himself. The books smelled of old paper. Many of them required re-binding and re-covering. But the books were lively from their titles and subjects. Ittikkuru felt happy among the books. Many people in this country do not get to read books. Many getting the chance also do not read. Now it has become more difficult with the onslaught of the TV, Cell phone and Mobile phones. A great number of other playing objects. Future generation has to take care of this. Ittikkuru's generation has already passed that period.

He excused himself from the Librarian to move forward to the racks to meet his favourite and and new authors. OV Vijayan, Madhavikutty, PK Narayana Pillai, Dr. Kunjabdullah, Vaikom Mohmmed Basheer et al were there.  Great writers who felt the pulse of the masses or their contemporary souls.  Many new authors mingled with the old time great names.  The people frequenting the library was few compared to the population and literacy of the place.  The Library culture is slow to get into a people who had been seen too few opportunities to learn at a not so recent past. 

The old system of the place was farming and life was generally feudalistic.  It was the nuns of the convents and the fathers in the churches who made an awakening in the masses inducing them to learn and acquire knowledge and to free themselves from the bondage of ignorance!  They did a marvellous and selfless work to see those who reached them opening up to knowledge and freedom and doing good to those around and becoming a blessing to all around!

Those were the old times.  Education was not seen as a business in those days. Education in smaller classes were free.  But to send their children to school, in a farming and bullock cart period, parents found it difficult.  Without fan fare and inaugurations, the schools gave midday meal to children which held a number of children to their classes.  Even then, some of them fell off, due to calamities in their houses.  Ittikkuru remembered his friend Chandran whose father died when he was in class IV.  Chandran was a studious and pious boy but after the funeral of his father, who used to drive a bullock cart, never returned to school.  Ittikkuru's enquiries with friends brought the reply "Oh, he has taken up his father's work!"

 

Ittikkuru was nine years at that time, studying in Class IV along with Chandran who was of same age.  After a few days one day Ittikkuru heard the shouts of his friend Chandran "Voowh vaah...idede kaale.."  Ittikkuru was coming from the market and on turning his eyes in the direction of the sound from his right, he found his dear friend, on top of the driver seat of his father's bullock cart with the drivers stick in one hand and the two controlling ropes of the two bullocks in his right hand!  The bullocks were coming close to Ittikkuru and he was skillfully controlling them with his 'voh....vahs' which he did with great skill. That was the end of his school education and reading. Now studies will be to his next generation!

When in the library Ittikkuru always had the problem of choices.  There are too many great books, but one can only borrow two books at a time.  This is again a hindrance.  Once the books are taken and if they have to be returned Ittikkuru has to spend half the day to travel and get it done.  He never minded it in his thirst to read his great masterly authors!

Diggin to the past

Digging to the past

The 'karu' that came out was dark in colour with a piece of mud stuck to its bottom. This is a piece of smoothened black cement! I was trying to dig a small pit to plant a banana plant, I mean the usual sprout of a banana plant. The karu had the black smoothened surface which I could instantly connect to fifty years back when as a small child I had helped my mother and sisters in smoothening it with a smooth stone. The floor was of mud which was beaten with a hard wooden piece with a handle called the 'nilamthalli' to make it good in level and smoothness. Then cement mixed with the kitchen soot was mashed and spread on the floor with trovels and allowed to dry for a day or so. Then was our hard work of smoothening it with the little round stones which we enjoyed like Tom Sawyer. Mother, brothers and sisters all took part in the work and all of us kept on talking, joking and laughing all through! At times we took a break to wash and have some food and went straqight back into smoothening of the floors! After years later we leaned that this is quality time we spent together as some of the sisters have left for their heavenly abode and some are not available to meet or speak.. Time flies fast and changes every thing!

Mother always worked along with us, led the team, and enthused us..! We thought we were making a palace for ourselves as the canopy was already there! Only the floor was to be readied. Those were the days! The climate was according to its cycles, shine and rain to measure. Most of the people around were good but poor and we believed that better houses are for the rich! For the poor and the commons if at all they had something to slant their heads in extreme climate, that itself was too much. And we thought we were rich in that. We had nine people around in Pop, Mom, brothers and sisters, our lovely dog called Brownie and ofcourse half a dozen cats. A parrot we had in better days had once flew out from its cage and of course succumbed to its natural end at the hands of one of the pious cats.! My brother was in mourning for a few days after that as he loved it a lot. Once the operation was over from the cat's side, the only thing left was the green feathers to give us a chance for the forensic enquiries and decision making.

But the death of the parrot had something portenting in it as the better house we were living in broke down before long and we had to mak a shed house quickly to save ourselves from the impending rains of Kerala which are severe in the monsoons of those days. A high thinking low caste gentleman came to our rescue and told father that he can fix a house in three days. He worked along with all of us as assistants and lifted a long structure with the left over bamboo materials from the cracked house. We had to procure six mountain bamboos for supporting the structure on pillars. The mountain bamboos are huge in size compared to the smaller bamboos near all the hedges.

Once the structure stood, then half walls were made with mud bricks. After this was our operation of leveling the room floors and smoothening the black cement top of the floors.

Now that time is up and I am at the archeological excavation mode with my pick axe and spade.

We had a coconut tree with few coconuts on them and a mango tree which rarely gave any fruits. But we planted many small time plants and got good fruit and seed from them. One of the plants which we always remember with gratitude are the large bananas from the plantains, which we relished in those days as directly from Paradise..!

Times changed...!

The Princess with the Diamond Necklace! - The Old Story!

The Princess with the Diamond Necklace! - The Old Story!

There is an old story. That, once upon a time, long long ago, far far away a beautiful princess lived in a palace. The princess was very beautiful and always was good to all and appeared in beautiful clothes, but there was something which added to her beauty. That was the beautiful diamond necklace which always wore. Every body in the kingdom including birds and animals appreciated the beauty of the queen but all were curious of the beautiful diamond necklace which the princess wore.

As in most of such stories a poor wood cutter boy was enfatuated with the princess and was trying to find a way to get near to the princess. The princess had a pretty parrot which flew into the jungle and back to eat the choicest fruits there. The wood cutter boy came in contact with the parrot as the parrot came near him of and on and enquired of him of the places where the best fruits were to be found. In gratitude to his advices, the parrot became friendly with him and told him about the beautiful princess in the palace and her beautiful necklace. Through the parrot the boy got the friendship of the princess and she called him to her palace. When they were alone the princess divulged the secret of the necklace to the jungle boy. She said “Without the necklace, I would die”!

After a while the boy got back to the jungle.

In the meanwhile a wicked prince in a near by kingdom was trying to get the princess in marriage and tried many tricks. But the princess looked through her diamond in the necklace which showed her the real purpose of the prince who was mean and cruel. The prince through the help of his soldiers got the the King, who was the father of the princess, to marry the princess to him. On the first night itself the prince who was hot headed and wicked set his eyes on the beautiful necklace and imagined the huge booty he can amass by selling the necklace and removed it while the princess was asleep....! The Princess was sleeping like a child. A couple of beautiful hairlocks kept on flowing in the breeze around the place. The villain had a last look and went out to do his bad deeds! The surprise was when he returned to wake up the princess! Whatever he does she won't wake up! The princess slept on and on....

The King the father of the princess was concerned. He passed an ultimatum to the villainous prince “If you can't awaken my daughter for a week, take the marriage as dissolved” All the soldiers and the people of the country of the King were up in arms and the prince had to give in. He could not awaken the princess! The King carried back his daughter ceremoniously and kept her on her beautiful bed which she used to sleep on..! The parrot came to see this and informed the jungle boy who set out to procure the diamond necklace.! After long searches in the palaces and jungles ultimately he found out the necklace and brought it to the palace and requested the king to allow him to try to wake up the princess. He was instantly allowed to do so by the already heart broken king.

And the boy went to the princess straight away and adorned her with the beautiful diamond necklace and Lo..! the beautiful princess got up as if from sleep and sat up looking benevolently at the boy and the King and all others who had assembled to watch the miracle the boy was going to attempt. This was the happy ending of the story where upon the King got the princess to be married to the Jungle Boy and they lived ever after in the King's palace as prince and princess and in course of time, when the King became old the prince took over as the King and the beautiful princess became his wonderful Queen and they both ruled their kingdom for a long time where their people were extremely happy..!

When we heard the story we all became happy.. but the catch is the diamond necklace. What is the diamond necklace in these days? Is this a real diamond necklace? No! In place of the necklace we can conveniently replace the kind of medicines each of us are taking for various illnesses! Also the beautiful princess to be replaced by any body suffering from any kind of simple illness where medicnes and treatment have become unavoidable! We hear many stories of deaths where the people do not get their proper medicines on time as required. The speed of death can be aggravated or speeded up by the villainous behaviour of the near and dear who may inflict much more grievous injury to the minds of the concerned individuals who would otherwise live a happy life for a long time...!

NOSTALGIA

NOSTALGIA

The old time piece sat in the brown wooden show case which is used as a prayer stand. The stand is two glassed cupboards joined together with a flat wooden piece. The wooden cup boards were made mimicking the old Greecian pillars with flat tops. As the two pillars stood apart with a television stand cum cassette holding drawers we had added the new idea of the flat plate on top to use it as the prayer stand.

While the upper stand can be used for prayer purposes, the show cases below held the old items like used prayer books, the old merit medals of our children, some photographs and the old books which had been presented to them which they had left behind on leaving the house on marriage and their own works.

They had kept it diligently, till they left and, often reminding us of the importance they carried to them, with the result we thought of not disposing them off. They remained in their places and now after years together, whenever we came across them, when we opened the shelf for cleaning or searching for something else, they at times overwhelmed us. Thus was the time piece of the yesteryears named “Swito” A 'Swito' alarm time piece with a handle on top and also aN alarm stop button, is not an item of these days. In olden days, it came to houses where somebody needed to wake up on particular times and this was the equipment to be had if the family had the wherewithal.

Children's school was our fright of the morning, especially in winters when any body can sleep upto eight o' clock in the morning, if not they were insistent to get up at six. For this, the alarm-time piece was a big help, as it started ringing with a slow 'grrrrr' sounding bell, at five in the morning slowly unwinding the wind, which we filled up before going to bed the day before.

It is not that our children got up at the bell, but it helped us to get up as parents and start calling up the children. That also had its own rhythm! First my wife will call me and the children and will move to the kitchen to make tea and boil a little water for the children to take bath. A geyser for hotwater was not fashion or possible for the lower middle class! Once she moved, it was my turn to move and call the children, our daughter and son to get up and start the day..!

Our daughter got up either at the first call or at any of the subsequent calls according to the degree of tiredness of the day before. Generally it was by the third or fourth call..! And since she was elder she had a sense of seriousness in this matter and tried to get up after a few calls mostly. If not, we picked her up from the bed and said some endearing words which made her alert and there after she was guided to her moring chores by her mother. But the case with my son was slightly different! He was a good sleeper and could sleep fast and long and normally did not want to get up in the morning..! So had to be called many times with a few shouts thrown in at times. Sometimes it came to no avail and he called back in half asleep mode: “Hmm...kya hai?...” That was when we generally picked him up and slowly carried him to the bath room for the bath. We slowly seated him in the bath room floor on his little chappels and he sat there sleeping. Once luck warm water is poured he would warm up and take part in the next part of the ablutions of the morning and will come out charming by the time for the school bus.

The driver of the bus, a sturdy fellow from the villages, did not wait even for a second, if the children are late! Coming from a village back ground of farmers who generally get up very early in the mornings and go about their chores, he could not stand chhildren not ready for the bus on time, even though, it is too early in the winter months. At times, we thought, he had a grudge against all those children who are able to go to school in the cities bu bus as children in villages always walked to the nearby school. The Blue Dialled, 'SWITO' alarm time piece supported us in catching up with the furious driver who was a stickler for time punctuality and we always thought his morning appearance is a blessing in disguise..! Now the time piece sits comfortably in retirment in the great wooden show case.Now our children are away and no more need them and the Alarm Time Piece it self has taken retirement, but we have not allowed it to go into oblivion. It is our fetish and privilege to keep and look after the old things of yore which gives us a kind of nostalgic pleasure even though it overwhelms us at times.

Below the alarm time piece is the picture frame with the beautiful picture our daughter made with our help, of a buttlerfly sucking honey from a flower with various colours in a white back ground neatly put into a glass frame! Simple families in the villages did not have the power to buy this costly equipment for forty or sixty rupees or so in those days in the eighties and ungrudgingly, they made use of the household cock, who gave an alarm from time to time or at least at five in the morning or sometime around.

Both my daughter and son do not use such equipment these days, instead uses the android or the computer which makes music or peculiar soothing alarm sounds which we the oldies are generally unfamilier, even though we like them..! This is today, but tomorrow may still be different!

The funny side of the Bank Account..!

The Bank Account Management-The funny side of it!

Times have changed. These are global times! The old order changeth..and the new is struck in to make leaps and bounds in transactions, progress in general life and “achhe din” all along! These welcome steps always sent me, a village man into great euphoria! We always doubted or thought why earlier such things could not be thought of by any body. They in their authority in the Banks and those who transacted with them in the villages only thought of Banks as places where they deposited excess money when it was available and took it off when they needed a little money here and there when there was any immediate necessity.

The Manager knew not only you, but also your father, the family tree and all those related to you.

He welcomed me as soon as he spotted me and I proceeded just after reciprocating his helo so as not to encroach upon his time and to get our own transactions done. The counter clerk did almost all that was wanted by me and at times took the money from the cashier and gave to me. But those times have changed ! Now globalling is on the roll, Bankers with MBAs rule, the clerks and others have become executives with computer knowledge and computers and the Banking has changed altogether into Air conditioned suberbs1

In these circumstances, like the computers and executives all are new and no body knew the other person and the old customers are simply forgotten as we are all fed into the computer and are told to bring new KYC formats. On enquiry the counter clerk in his chair looked quizzickally at me as if he was looking at an accused in a police station and said “Have you an Account here?”

My polite reply “That I have” brought his next order: “Then you have to fill up the KYC” and pointed me to a counter clerk sitting in another corner with a lot of forms. He on approaching gave me my required forms. I searched out an empty chair and sat down to fill up the forms both for me and my wife and after a lot of references to this and that got all the little squares filled up and took it to the earlier executive. He went through it in great detail and demanded “Where is the photo?” I was taken aback and said “ have it in my bag”. “Take it out and fix it in the column above signature and sign it” was his next command which was obediently executed. He went through it again and instructed “All right, this is complete now, attach a residential proof and an identity proof and take two photo copies each and bring it to me” to which I meekily asked him “Can the Bank make the photo copies?” to which he retorted “Are ither kutch nahi hoga..aapko yeh cheese banaake laana hai” which ended my arguments and I started to make photo copies from the shops in the market cluster where the Bank was located.

***                ***               ***                          ***

The shop just opposite was closed and it had a small board saying “Photo copying” -> and an arrow to the right. This meant I have to walk to the right side of the complex. To be doubly sure I enquired in the next shop next to it who directed me in the opposite direction. He said “Walk to the right side of the Bank building and there is a market. As soon as you enter the market turn right and photo copying is there”. I walked as he said taking the right turn and I was looking into a old dilapidated shop in which an old gentleman was talking to a young girl. I entered and enquired and he replied in the affirmative. He was talking to the young girl and disposing her off after laminating some papers and making her identity card water proof etc. So, I waited for my turn and when the old gentleman turned to me enquired the charges for photocopying.

He looked at me quizzickally and said “It is two rupees per copy” for which I put forth my bargain, “Not one rupee?” The old gentleman looked at me benignly and said “I shall make it one rupee and fifty paise for you, which is the minimum you can get in this market.” I agreed.

He took the papers from me and very metiiculously took the photocopies on his computer copier adding: “My copier is superiour to other machines. It is a computer thing. It costs more, you see” I saw that and agreed with him. I remarked in reverence to his age and experience, looking at a huge photo copier stacked on one side of the shop completely dusty and in disuse. “You should be using the large machine and lessen the price for us” for which he said: “Who is going to get this repaired

and reused? Even otherwise there is not much business here these days”. He completed the copying, counted the pages and gave me the two copies each of the three pages and I walked back to the Bank where lunch time had started!

THE LUNCH: When it comes to village banks, the lunch time is sacrosanct. The clerk sir who was to take my originals and copies was walking out wiping his face and stroking his stomach. Once outside he did not recognize me which is OK. I entered the bank to wait for him and my wife who was with me said”It has become lunch time now, should we wait or have lunch and come back.?” “Naturally, we can go for lunch and come back, there is no point in looking at those who are taking lunch or at those who are having a little piece of mind during lunch time.”

We left for lunch to a relative of ours and at their house I started rechecking my papers and found out to my horror, that I have missed out my original KYC with the lovely old gentleman who did my photo copying. Now I have to go back there to collect the original copy first before giving it at the Bank....I knew, things are compounding. The KYC is going to trouble me a little.

*** **** ****

My wife was agitated at the loss of the original at the photocopying shop and enthused me to go and check the shop once again which I did. I found the shop was shut half way with a blue shutter and the internal glass door is visible at the bottom side. I tapped on the shutter and the door for a little while and then came back to the bank to report the matter to my wife who said she will make enquiries at the shop or around and find out if she can get the same and went out in a jiffy. She came back promptly with a phone number and showed me how simply things are in place. I kept wondering, what is happening to me. I never saw the phone number. She said the phone number was on the top of the shop. (Perhaps..!, I thought). I called on the number brought by my wife and the gentleman on the otherside seemed to be appologetic. He said : “saab jee, mey thoh sochaa bhi tho ek khande se pehle uthar aah nahin sakta. Meh toh Luxmi Nagar meh hoom is waqt.” (Sir, even if I wanted, I can't reach there before an hour at least).This threw away our idea of getting the paper back immediately and giving it to the Bankers immediately after lunch.

We came out for lunch and once on our own, thought of looking at the shop once again. We went to the shop and found out the shop which was now fully shut and the real inside of the shop I could not visualize. I remembered the old gentleman, sophisticated in his talk, but the whole shop in shabby conditions, a huge dusty” photo copier at one corner and his having a computer copier on the shop table and his standing infront of it with a small laminating machine on one side etc. But now I can't reverify them until the shop is open. Also, the glass door which I had seen just behind the shutter was also confusing as I had not see a glass door when I went in for photocopying. I thought “Now, I can't do a thing, until I saw the shop opened”.

Then, of course, we thought of asking the neighbouring shops. The girl in the opposite shop said, “The photo copy shop on the other side? He closes for lunch and comes late after lunch. Why you worry, we can also photo copy for you. What is it that you want to photocopy?” I was amazed! I had not seen this shop in my hurry to get the copying done in a hurry when I came the first time. The shop was full of hanging leaflets and pamphlet advertisements on various issues which made the people inside the shop invisible. Since I did not have anything to photo copy now, I said lazily:

“Oh..no..we have to collect a paper from him”. The girl said “Then you can come back after your lunch and siesta. The uncle takes a nap after lunch and then only comes.”

We surveyed the whole area for the near by shops and the location and left for lunch. We could relax a bit at our relative's place which made us recover from our crestfallen feelings and once we felt good, I called up the phone number again to check if the gentleman had reached the shop. He replied in the affirmative and ever so promptingly saying “Saab jee, shop meh toh hai, magar aap ka photo kaunsi hai. Mere paas athaareh photo hai, aapka kaunsi hai?” This gilted me. You see, there was a quirk in the conversation with him. I am talking about photocopies and he is asking me about photo. I sensed something is not correct. Why he should ask me about photo instead of photo copy? I told him : “Don't worry..I am coming there..so there will be no problem” He said: “Aayiyeh ji, aayiyeh...” We reached there in the shortest of time when the skies were getting cloudy and a rain was about to come down. The noon time temperature had come down and we were relaxed. Once in front of the shop, which was now open it was clear to me: “My lord, this is not the photo copying shop. This is a photo studio. !”

The shop keeper saw us and came out to invite us in with a broad smile: “Aayiyeh....ji.” Once inside, I appologised to him Bhai sahab, we were looking for a photocopying shop near around and not your shop. This is a faux pass. Sorry for the inconvenience” He was a young sikh gentleman at his best in politeness and hospitality. He said “Areh saab, kyaa baat karthey ho, yeh toh hota hi rehtaa hai... koi baat nahin” He continued “Hum toh photocopy nahin, photo kheenchteh hai. Yadi kabhi photography sumbanthi koyi jaroorat ho, yaad karleejiyeega” “Aap kaa photocopier vaaleh uncle ji doh shop aage hai. He comes late. Timepaaas keliye aathey hai.” (Sir, what are you saying? These things keep happening. No problem. We make no photo copies but photographs. If ever you needed a photography connected necessity, do remember us) (Your photocopier gentleman uncle is two shops ahead. He comes late. He comes for time pass only).

It was clear a faux pass has occured and now we are at the receiving end just for a photo copy because our bankers won't do a photo copy for themselves ..! The studio owner showed us various albums and their varieties which he can make for us on order whenever needed.

We decided to wait, even thoughit was only past three o' clock. A wait which made us cut off from all other worries of news paper, tv news, internet and cell phones. My wife kept standing infront of the newly located shop. I had missed noticing this shop properly. I was reminded of my new traits of not noticing the places and shops properly these days, which I fully agreed in my own surprise.

The new shop which we now aimed, had the small sign board saying “FOTO COPYING”. The shop had the old and fading large sign board of “CHEMISTS” written on the Shutter followed by thefurther sign of “Specialists in ayurvedic medicines” . I had not seen this earlier, when I went in as the rolling shutter was up then..! My wife, now adamant that she will collect our paper as soon as the shop keeper came in, took position in front of the shop and I walked back to my car to sit down and watch when this old uncleji is returning...! The climate was cooling down as the clouds were becoming darker. Now the market had a desserted look and there were no body outside the shops, except my wife standing alone. A girl from the nearby shop came up to her and started chatting with her. I went to join the conversation to see what is happening. Once with them it was clear. The girl is an emplyee in the near by shop. She could not stand the sight of an elderly madam just standing in front of their shop all alone in this humid climate. She invited us to sit in their air conditioned shop. That is a piece of Indian Hospitality. We profusely thanked her and said we would rather keep outside where we are to which she made a great suggestion: She said: “You give us your number, I shall call you when the uncle ji opens the shop! It is not necessary that he comes in the evening. Sometimes he does not turn up” That was great of her. May God bless her. We told her that we shall take her number and call her after a while which she agreed to and gave us the shop's visiting card.

We left after giving the girl our number and with the visiting card of their shop in hand. We came to our relative's house again,had tea and left as it was getting darker. On our way back, it started to rain heavily. It was a beautiful drive in the heavy rain remembering old times and free from the bank stuff and photocopying.

After two days, we got to know, our relative had got the original from the old uncle ji and now it is our turn to go and collect it. Our KYC (Know your Customer) is still not given in our Bank with which we have an account for the last twenty years or more..!

Will continue.....