Enamavu to Palghat and back...!

The bus stop was empty as the time was late morning.  The extreme busy period is the school time.  We were there by eleven of the clock.  But then there will be waiting.  Sure enough, there are no long intervals for a line bus.  In fifteen minutes the bus took us.  the sun `was strong, but the cool breeze kept the climate under control.  Trichur was forty minutes away.  Once there, it was the panic to catch the next KSRTC bus to Palghat from near the King's Statue near the Dharmodayam Building or the St. Thomas College. 

The bus conductor mumbled 'Binni' is the next stop, if not then the next one is at 'Shaktan'.  That is a warning.  Either you get down at Binni or else.  We got down at Binni.  'Binny' is a cloth shop where clothes from the brand name 'Binny' is sold.  Next is Shaktan meaning the famous 'Shaktran Thampuran' Bus Station which is the private Bus Stand.  Soon we understood the mistake we made by getting down at 'Binny'.  As we walked up to the Dharmodayam and Paramekkavu Temple front, we understood the Buses to Palghat are not coming there any more!   Times have changed.  There are new routes in force now.  The Buses have to be found out.  We enquired of the KSRTC bus conductor whose bus was there.  He advised: "Catch something to KSRTC Station or go to Shaktan.  We had already disembarked from our bus which was going to Shaktan.  Now we can reach by Autorikshaw to the KSRTC Bus Station which we did. As soon as we reached the hilarious Fast Passenger Bus was coming out the Station which took us to Palghat.

From Palgthat we were to get our car and drive back.  The roads were fine except for some constructions going on for a toll are near 'Kuthiran' mount and  a couple of other places.  We got the car soon enough, after getting off from the Bus at the Palghat Station.  A gentleman had driven it for us from Coimbatore.
The drive home in the afternoon against the afternoon sun was really good but for the hitting sun on your eyes which had to be warded off with the sun shade.  A two hours clean drive reached us back to Trichur as the sun was setting which was enjoyable.

The Chicken Soup....!

The Chicken Soup....!

I am an admirer of soups. Both chicken soup and tomato soup. My favourite of course, is asparagus.

When our son said he wanted us to have chicken soup, me and my wife were thrilled. He said he would reach it across and he did. When it arrived we were slightly taken aback. On one afternoon, he brought it gift rapped and in beautiful blue ribbon bind. On opening the rapper, we found it was “The Chicken soup for the Soul for Empty Nesters”.

Our son had got married the previous spring an our daughter a couple of years before that. Since his soup was only a book, which we may own in future, like all other books one owns, I kept separately to be read later.

The soup wasto be taken little by little, in the years to come. ! It was the experiences of hundreds of parents who had their children married off to suffer the ultimate bliss and loneliness of their lives.

We have a fw pigeon couples on either side of our apartment who routinely build and rebuild their nests and bring forth loittle ones time and again. Painstakingly they teach the little ones to fly and they fly away. The old pigeons are ready to rebuild and do another trip. However, we humans do it only once and when the nest is empty, engage in other activities or philanthrophy if we have the energy, some ofcourse, start praying for the long journey..!

I for one was not allowing myself to have the soup so far, even though it had been with me for the last four five years. But one of these days when I lost my sleep, my eyes fell on the book and I thought of going through it. It was about the lovd and angst and pain of parting with children whom we painstakingly prepared for life always under the false impression of being together all along,l as was the old custom in the underdeveloped country side. Electricity and motor cars were rare then and the lucky few (so it was thought) only went high up in the air in an air plane. Were “Chicken Soup” available then, people would have laughed at it. Times changed. Progress came. Countrysides started to become empty. Children flew off to distant places in search of nest and bread. At times they wrote letters, then telephoned and 'skyped'and always their work load increased.

The calls and letters became fewer and fewer and in certain weeks they did not call at all. Even if they did not call or write they still remained our little kids. We could never put away their thoughts. That is how I started to grab the full meaning of the chicken soup for the Empty Nesters.

Me and my wife are now empty nesters often times discussing our happy times to keep ourselves amused at the “wise” present given by our son..! His kissing wish on the inner cover of the book was “To Mom & Dad – For the youthful years of you two....”

The boy who made it to the Capital: My Father and the Fountain Pen!

The boy who made it to the Capital: My Father and the Fountain Pen!: My father and the Fountain Pen! I was studying as a border, in a small upcoming school a few miles from house, in those days. I...

My Father and the Fountain Pen!

My father and the Fountain Pen!

I was studying as a border, in a small upcoming school a few miles from house, in those days. I was around ten and almost looked eight. All undernourished children of that time in Kerala, coupled with various childhood diseases looked younger than their age. But we were fed well in School and I was picking up.

I had my belonging of a small box containing a pair of dresses and a little soap and a Kerala cotton towel. A sleeping grass mat, a cotton blanket and a pillow completed the belongings. My father had told he would come of and on to visit me and then I can have any money if I needed. I never needed any money as such.

The Principal cum Manager of the School a very kind and generous man, had, on my our admittance given us, a small diary to write our accounts even though we did not have any money. As I was in Class V we had started writing with ink pens. At least, we were allowed to. I had a few ink pens with their blocks and nibs which were discarded by my elder sisters who were in higher classes. These old pens looked good but there was the little problem of leaks from their neck parts. I thought that I can fix them with the washing soap and kept applying them with the same. It worked to some extent. But after a time when the flow improved with continuous writing the ink slowly came to my three fingers which gripped the pen. The fingers turned blue with inki which I used to wash off with the washing soap called 'Sunlight' (Or was it called 'Sun Lite' ?). As I was a bit lazy in washing clothes and all my soap didn't have much other use.

A few months passed and in between my father arrived one day enquiring after me. After his talk with the Principal, he came to me and spoke for a while about everybody else in the family (We had a large family with a number of brothers and sisters, which is huge in any respect as per the present day considerations), all of whom had enquired of me and had sent their Good Wishes. Then he told me that he has brought a present for me. He checked his large shirt picket and brought out a beautiful brown fountain pen -brand new at that-Imagine my surprise! It had a nice brown cap and a glittering yellow brass clip topped by a black plastic clip holder! I hit the ceiling with surprise.! At our financial condition any kind of equipment was considered a secondary need as he had to meet both ends for the family with his small incomes. I feebly mumbled to father if he really did have to spend on the pen or me as I have two - three old pens to which he stroked my hair longly and said “ I had noticed your pens earlier. They are all leaking. It will be good for you to write with a good pen. Even if we are poor in other things, we should not be poor in studies. It is my duty to get you a good pen if not many other things”. That completed the conversation. And he slowly wished me 'Tata' and walked off.

I was speechless and very much touched by his insight and kindness. All through my studies I wrote with that pen until my Under Graduate days. The present day ball point pens were not prevalent then!

On a Tuesday Morning...!

Getting stuck at home is not a very good proposition for men folk if they can move around.

On a sunny morning of November, I was easing at home reading the morning newspaper.  The permanent companions at these times are the pigeons who do their continuous singing..'h...m....hm.....h....m....hm....'  They keep on for a long while before falling silent.,  at times I got up to ward them off, but many a time they flew away by themselves...  Only to come back at the least sign of my moving away.  It is, as if, they are saying: 'this is our place, you move away'.
They very well know that these human folk are not that good a group to live with, and used to make homes only on tall tree tops.

Now that the tall buildings came up they are making houses at corresponding heights and my house falls in that height.  The carrying machines called elevators, are provided these days by we which we can conveniently reach these high spaces.

The news paper in hand had a lot of advertisements on cars which are being sold a lot.  Next come a lot of mobile phones. I don't know who all buy them.  Many be, many are buying them too as there are no space left on the roads and I rarely see any one without using a mobile phone.  It is to that extent, that many use them while driving as well as on the roads and at every place they are walking.  At times, I heard a phone ringing in the church in between the sermon.  It sure, rattled the speaker as well as all the listeners, their dismay is complete when the owner took it out and pretended to squeeze in a few words in hushed tones which every body listened avidly "I am in the church, shall  call back after the church".

My newspaper also told me of the doings and non doings of the political leaders and the connected opinions which I turned over after a glance.  A lot of ink is always put on these matters as in every country.  From the headlines anyone who are regular readers knew what one would say or would not say.

Then came the advertisement pages called "Classifieds" which is just a pain if you are not either looking for a needle or crowbar in the paper or very young in age.  The elderly after a long life, generally resigned away from them.  That page over are the pages on sports.  In India we sit and we get to read that someone has won a bonanza in America, Australia or some other far away land and feel joy over it. Never knew the guy who one nor does he know the readers.  But still, we feel proud of them.

Once their running and playing are over comes the great pages the supplement.  It is as if the newspaper runners knew that one would be tired by the end of their newspaper and needed some relaxation in the form of entertainment.  In this 'Supplement' section, one generally got to read of the filmy news also called movie news, and this thrilled most of the readers.  At least there will be reports of one film suiting each reader.  There will be come accompanying pictures too which all of us are supposed to like. Some of the pictures are of heroes whom we adore in movies and some are of heroins, those beautiful ladies whom we cherish to be around us, but are not. There will be write ups of the parties and conversations of those who are in the upper echelons of either movie world or the power world with suiting pictures as per the judgement of the paper they are published.

The paper over the reader moves in the house around to do other house hold works. Or further readings.  There is an almirah full of old books which I have kept of reading at leisure, but dread to go near.  Books once read generally create a feeling that we know it already.  And if the book is my own, then I keep it away to be read at some other time.  I don't know what is the case with other people.  To cut at this bad habit, I joined the public library.  Here I have to put myself to some inconvenience to go and get the books and there is always a date by which I have to return them.  This date generally prods me to read it and it has worked so far.  My hats off to the Library.  It works.


If ever the Library allowed me to keep the books as long as I wanted, I may not have read many of the books I read. Here in, it becomes time for me to visit the near by grocery store for daily groceries and milk and there finishes my winter morning session.

A simple journey by the Delhi Metro!

Everybody was sitting listless as the metro train moved on. “The next station is......the doors will open on the left” the familiar voice of Rini Khanna or some one keep on coming from the microphones in the compartments. Sometimes, the doors will open on the right as per announcement. Most of the regulars knew where the doors will open.

It is the new comers who will be at unease about the side of the opening. There are uite a good number of people waiting at the Botanical Garden Station waiting for the train. How fast all got trained to get in as well as use the automated ticketing system including the use of metro cards and using the escalators etc. We are a fast and remarkable people, indeed! The youngsters are fast learners, indeed!

Most of them had ther mobile android phones in hand and their roots going into their ears. They fingered their android phones from time time. There is an occasional phone talker who may talk aloud as if to make all around to listen to his talk. This was much earlier now has become very rare. The compartments are very good in their lighting and fittings which is a solace and with a great airconditioning system, one would have a pleasant journey wherever one is slated to go.

I undertook a journey from the Botanical Garden to Dwarka which was superb.

A drive from Kerala to Delhi by Road..!

We took off on a pleasant morning in end September, in our little i10 car with a due check up and certification from the local car expert. The car always functioned well and there was no doubt about the drive in the trusted little guy. We had a plan to skip the Kuthiran' bottle neck' but decided otherwise as we could pass it without much problem as we started quite early in the morning. Our assumption proved right as the passing was smooth there. The big tunnel which was being made for the straightening of the road and removing the bottle neck could be seen on the right. The road had its share of huge three axle and four axle vehicle carrying weights to be carried by two trucks or more. The drivers of those large beauties should really be stury ones as it takes many days for them to reach their destinations covering several states. We passed Coimbatore still in the early mornings and headed straight for Salem to get the Trichy curve. The roads in Tamil Nadu were excellent but for the large number of toll tax gates where we have to give the small tax which is also called a toll for passing them. A due receipt is also given and they were generally well managed. Each toll ensured a good distance of good road which is a driving pleasure for any road user. This time the Trichy curve was easily visible as the road signs were sere put in such a way that the drivers could catch it if attentive.

Once th Trichy curve is recognized, we took the customary left turn to be born on to the Chennai road. The signs will bring brough us to the Vandalur zoo from where we cut across to catch the OMR road which brings us to our cherizhed destination at Kelambakam.

We rested fopr a few days before starting off to Bangalore a joyful run of five to six hours. The run has its own scenic beauties and good road signs. We cruised in to our destination in the after noon, of course, starting in the early morning. We had been advised by other driving bloggers that night driving is better avoided and we took those advices of the experts or our earlier road users. The traffic in Banglore was heavy but we avoided entering the thick of the city and went and stayed at a far end called Jakkur Plantation side where the traffic was a little manageable. No doubt, even there, traffic was heavy, compared to olden times. New constructions and cheek by jowl shops and establishments leaves very little room for any one to park or do any thing lavishly on the side of the road. If one got a little space to park for sometime without a shop owner or his assistants coming running to tell you to not to park, one is lucky. But if one could, there is a chance one may bet affable people to talk to and enquire of the surroundings according to ones needs.

I got an old gentle man to enquire of the road direction I had needed and of shops where I could purchase some articles. We could spend well half hour talking , which went from introducing the roads, how to criss cross them, where to find a few needed shops, to heavy traffic and parking availability. In between we slipped on to how is life?, Ar you retired? How is the family settled?, How are the children placed? If life really comfortable? So on and so forth. He told me of his Delhi life, how good times were, how tough life were at times, but could grew up children in a peaceful atmosphere where schools and colleges werre good and teachers were dedicated. I could easily relate to him as I had also been a Delhi worker and had similar experiences even thoughbring ing up children were tough in those days of old, but people aroun, all from various villages in various states were too simple and truthful without much ego. Those times each one understood, the others around also had similar situations at home in their own states and the good will they had were enormous! Oh..bothof us agreed to meet a continue with the talk, if Almighty allowed us to meedt and parted ways by the time my co-driver had brought the car after making a long phone call and setting the GPS on the phone where are now available in the new kind of phones.

He joked at me about the way side conversation that I may settle down there, if I had more time to converse a few more people. In elderly years, it is like that! When one gets to hook on to, the time passed if the opposite gentleman is good and to your liking having a flare to speak. We started off without much ado discussing our own small work in hand as the power had suddenly shown a fluctuation while driving. We also thought the muffler of the exhaust has loosened somewhere. We could find a mechanic on the side of a small road who checked up in a few seconds and said,that our silencer tube is worn out and that has to be replaced. Then was a search for the possible shops. Most of the shops were closed due to the Deepavali festival but some were to be found on a small road. There was a work shop also shown on the inter-net. We visited the work shop, a small crampy place with a biting step steep gradient. The nice English talking and well educated Engineer came out checked the vehicle and said he needed a further check to thoroughly check the vehicle and wantede to drive check and also examine in his little workshop. We agreed. He took to the driving seat and the car brought out added energy and the little vehicle bit on the biting gradient to his shop in a little growl and cough. He showed a sign to his younger mechanic who went under the car and came out to report of the worn out tube again which our earlier mechanic had already advised, without any fanfare. The moment the junior mechanic came out, the senior English speaking friend got the front wheel opened and advised a possible simple problem on the right wheel brake side which may not make a problem as such, but could as well make a problem in future. We checked up his total charges we if we wanted to fix them. He did not give a straight answer but took us to his special cabin and started writing on a small receipt book a few figures and spoke to us about the possible causes of all the exhaust tubes available in the market and the best tubes he would use for us which is really a smart tube and also the simple work on the right front which he will to for a little sum to save us a headache in future! He showed us a total figure of seven thousand and odd rupees for the whole work at a go and would need half a day!

We tahnked him for his advice and moved on to find the required exhaust pipe. Without much problem we could locate the shop with the help pof a few other mechanics who were also going to the same shop. We could recognize them easily as it was a mechanics cum automobile area and most of the real mechanics had greese and black on their hands and they all wore soiled clothes whhich is a sign of good mechanics as they have to go under vehicles all the time and do the work on vehicles which are worn out. Affable people though, they guided us to the shop and we made a good buy of the tube mentioned.

The bill showed a fine charge plus a few taxes and the latest GST tax which was really a bit to drink in. Once the tube was our own we had to wait to get the bill cut and payment done. I was standing at the shop holding the long exhaust tube as a pole for a while and then thought I shall as well put it in the car some how. Once I was putting it into the car a boy came running from the bye-lane and asked if I wanted to fix it straight away!

He said his Ustad was free then, and he could fix it for a small sum and his shop is just few meters only. We agreed and in a matter of half an hour his Ustad, a middle aged youngster, with a broad inviting smile, in all grease and black in totally soiled clothes fixed it, drove the car around and took his fees of four hundred rupees and that was it. The work was done in half an hour and including the price (which was a bit high with the taxes) it came only below four thousand. The car now became smooth and the lost power came back and the extra noise was gone! A day's rest and we were ready for our next leg to Goa.

The next morning took us through a panoramic drive under a cloudy sky through the mountainous curves and hair pins, zig-zags and hill ranges of Karnataka to ultimately arrive at the city of Churches and St. Francis Xavier in the late afternoon. We could get the blessings of St. Mary as we reached a church of the Immaculate Conception and attend mass there. It was raining and the blessings were there, sure to be enjoyed. We could find a little inn nearby and settle down for the night. Could walk around the beautiful and clean streets around and see the boating going on in the inlet waters with the huge signs of the boat companies and a very very large board of 'Kingfisher' drinks. (The bird itself is a very very small one, those who have watched the kingfisher would know. Of course, it is a colourful bird and a joy to see always).

(Continuation..)

We walked in the streets near by our stay holding little umbrellas as it was raining heavily. The Arabian sea is generous with its abundant rain clouds over Goa which the mountains in Goa and Karnataka stop from going easterly and they rain over Goa profusely. The feeling is great and any one can enjoy it if they liked rain as such. The small hotel were we entered had culinary delights and at very reasonable cost. There are plenty of eateries and places to drink in Goa which are generally people friendly as in Calcutta or its suburbs.

There were pleasure boats cruising in the inlet waters and were collecting customers even in late hours. One could see the boats sailing away with lights and the Managers and Executives of the company were accepting guests with great gusto in a gentlemanly way. We did not go for a cruise as we had to travel out early and a lot of places to see the day after before we started out the day next. The hotel which we stayed in too were very family friendly and provided all needs for the little kid with us. The next day we visited the St. Francis Xavier's relics and the undecomposed body (even after five hundred years) of the Saint kept in a casket. The body was buried twice and exhumed to find it was uncorrupted. Then transported to be interned in this church called Bom Jesus Church, meaning Little Jesus Church. A red stone structure of great architechural beauty. Any one who visited got a blessing from the Saint and felt the peace within.

Opposote or Eastern side of the church is a much more beautiful Cathedral Church! Being a World Heritage church it is well maintained while there are no charges for the visit. The culture of St. Francis Xavier and St. Francis of Assissi were evident as the whole place of a complex of four wonderful churches are a marvel by any standards!

The day next we travelled out again into the forest zig-zags which we had used to enter Goa. This time it was another way but the same mountains and mountain roads to catch the national High Way. For a couple of hours we had to follow the boards and be very careful as there were boards informing crossing of wild animals on the route. There were signs of caution about falling boulders. If the rain is too heavy the danger may become real from the present warning. Luckily for us there were no rains but fog which was also a matter for caution as head on traffic would have to be tackled at times. However, we got considerate drivers and road users all through and we entered the national highway to Mumbai. Once on the high way one is alerted by the frequent tolls and most of the time the roads are really very good. Until we reach Mumbai one has to be on rapt attention on the road and be careful in his lane. There are generous number of Toll Gates and one only has to keep a bag with loose money to pay as and when the toll comes. At times the Toll Gate Operators are slow to slow down and irritate the road users in as much as there will be clogging at the gates and huge lines will be seen waiting to pay the tax, undedrstand, to pay our money to them and to proceed. For this one loses time on the road which was meant to increase your easiness of travel from point to point. Next is POL. I mean petrol which one pays of and on as the tank empties out on the constant run. The travel goes without incident till the Pune Mumbai High way which is generally considered to be one of the assets of the travel as it is a prestigeous roads.

The long drive had made us a bit complacent and we did not check on POL for a while. We we noted the danger we were already ending on the Pune Mumbai High way. We decided to pull up sat the next HP Bunk and we did. The highest price we paid for Petrol was here a sky rocketing Righty Two rupees per litre. Since we had no other option we filled up and continued our journey after a little snacks at the exhorbitantly priced airport like shops there. It seemed there was some under arrangement to skim the travellers from the side of all the authorities together the HP leading it. The lesson learned was there is no room for complacency while on a long haul and fill up at convenient places without waiting for the last drops or the empty light to blink.

We entered Mumbai in the late afternoon with the help of the Google GPS and it brought us to the place of our friend where had to make a visit.

To Udaipur from Mumbai

We had a day's rest with them and visited the famous Mahim Church where the prayers to St. Mary are always stated to be granted. The picture and statue of St. Mary of Perpetual Help were on all sides of the Church and a continuous flow of devotees from all walks of life to the place made it a great prayer centre. Even though it was hot and humid, the people visiting were enormous. It was informed the Novenas are attended by one and all without consideration of religion as it has been reported to be fruitful to attend a prayer there. After our prayers there we proceeded to the old Bandra church Fort and the adjoining park which seemed to be a lovers' paradise. We could see the Bandra Worli Link Bridge from there whichis also a great sight. We wished to take a ride on the bridge but decided against it as going up upto Worli may get us into heavy traffic and would take away a lot of time in the humid heat. We thought it better to save our energies to the other drives on hand.

After a nights rest at Gandhinagar Gujarat, next day early morning we started the maze again to catch the High Way to Udipur in Rajasthan. The GPS on the phone were extremely useful in guiding the correct route to climb to the High way to Udaipur. The roads again were good with enough tolls to spend our money, of and on, and the early morning breeze were soothing! We drove on the toll ways and switched off the GPS. Once we are on the highway, the sign boards in green will guide us well either to Delhi or Calcutta which are great cities. Enroute is Udaipur or Jaipur. Since it would be tiring to catch Jaipur or Delhi in one lap we had planned a pit stop at Udaipur. We had prebooked a small hotel called Ramvilas Hotel, where two double rooms with three beds each were good for us. This we did only as a matter or caution as in case we reach late etc. we may not have to wander around searching for a stay. Once there, we could find plenty of small hotels which would have taken us on arrival too. But a pre booking on the net saves us a lot of on the spot paper work and all.

The road was good and smooth with the land-scapes on either side with either plan land or fields or mountainous terrain. At times there was the sudden spurt of small winds throwing up the reddish or white dust which makes an air conditioned and closed vehicle a good asset to travel. This kind of wind is natural to this part of the country as there were less rain in this period of time. If the wind is strong it can throw up a dust cloud too called a 'loo' here. Luckily for us there was no major wind or 'loo' (as such winds are called here) on the way. At a little way side tea stall a young boy was selling tea in the morning. We made an unscheduled stop for a sip and it was worth it. A few country gentlemen had already assembled for their morning teas and the boy was meticulous in serving them, first come first basis.   His charge was a simple Rs.5 for tea and Rs. 7 for a good samosa. The village people are full of goodness. They do not overcharge!

The Rajasthan country has a lot of marble excavation and hence one can see the long lorries carrying marble to various places in other states and most of them one will get on the high way from time to time. Even though the lorry trucks are huge by any standards, it did not seem they are properly air conditioned for the drivers and staff accompanying in their cabin. May be the conditions will improve in the coming days.

A mass at the Pompei Shrine at Enamavu..!

I will not say all these, but.   The mass time is five in the evening. We walked stiff through the by lane and covered a few areas which were full of rain water accummulated on the road. That is normal on our way to the little St. Mary's shrine chappel. There were other church goers on the road. A few ladies in dfferent kinds of dresses. A few scooter and moter cycle riders going with their near and dear to the mass to reach on time. A few, in their cars for whom we moved to the extreme side of the little road and keep praying that the water puddles are not sprayed on us. The cars decrease their speed. We take a breath of relief. Then continue our walk to reach the chappel. The entry of the chapel has a statue of an angel carrying a small bowl of holy water. The water had been lying there for quie a few days and the mosquitoes had not taken lightly to it. The little larve were springing up and down. The mosquitoes have taken them for their egging space.

The kole padam in front was getting ready for next seeding time and had been well ploughed. The visiting white and black cranes found it a bit a tough time as their normal food of little fish mostly disappear in the plowing. But they are hopeful in front of St. Mary's shirne as the mother is benevolent on them and some food for survival are still found in the muddy padam fields. A cool breeze wafted through and the multitude congregated well inside the little round chapel.

The rainy season is beautiful but it also brings a lot of dirt and loose red mud through the water movement. The difficult part is to keep the dresses clean and dry. Next is perspiration in between the rains as the climate is tropical and day times are always warm if not hot.

The music singers soothe the nerves which is jumbled and ruffled time and again by the corg operator who makes sudden jump sounds which strike everyone in their ear drums from the strong sound boxes which are really powerful these days!

The mass starts in strict earnest and slowly we are absorbed into the prayers and supplications. The father leading the mass also sings well sending us to a great level of extreme prayers for quite sometime. Each one recives the required blessings and come out happy and peaceful to take part in a procession carrying St. Mary's statue of the famous Pompei Matha who blesses Enamavu through and through, including the extreme cultivation efforts of the people in the kole padams. The candle light procession goes well in the overcast evening when the cranes flock to their house island over the little shrine in their long 'V' formations. Group after group take off and go over. By the time it is dark the procession and blessings are over and all group up for a drink of the blessed 'payasam' which are given after the programme., always sponsored by any one of the blessed ones in honour of the Holy Mother of Pompei..!

A Morning Bus Ride...in Chennai....!

A morning bus ride......in Chennai..!

It is good to have a morning bus ride or a morning walk any where in the world. But the same in Chennai is special for me as I rarely do it. This was a morning after a nice rain and it was cool but the sun as the Chennai sun is always, came up bright and warm in the early seven o' clock itself. As every body comes out early, sun also come out early. The problem was there was not a single or tree or plant at the bus stop to take a shade for a while when we waited at the bus stop.

I kept on anxiously looking at the on coming buses and other vehicles coming from the south from the bus station called Kelambakkam and a bus came which was going in my required direction but won't reach my destination. It was marked for Koimbedu another location. So I left looking anxiously at the buses and turned to the bus stop instead to watch and judge the people at the stop at that early hour. Most of the waiters were students both school and college who kept on talking to one another with their huge back packs and all. Then there were a few technical wizards who are called 'Techies' these days. There were two politicians (small time politicians) both in sparkling white dress with one having a very large moustache and the other normal. Both had a couple of pen in their pockets, some papers folded and a little colourful comb jutting out of the pocket from behind the papers it was holding. One of the politician had a white towel with a border on either side, on his shoulder.

Many among all these people spoke on their mobile android phones from time to time. The Techies led the lot in this and I also kept picking up my phone and putting it back from time to time to console myself. Thought of making a call to some one to show every body that I have it, but decided otherwise, for fear of losing the battery charge. I had a journey to have and a time consuming wait (it may or may not be according to the condition at the dispensary where I was going to get my monthly medicines). A couple of times I pulled it out and looked at the time. (These days I look at the time clock in the android and conveniently forget my wristwatch whenever possible. Sometimes, I have the watch but won't look at it as it is inside my shirt cuff and by looking at my android I can see the time, show everybody I have it and then don't have to use it).

While at all these I see the bus coming and I get in at the back side after the while dressed politicians, as the front side is used by all the youngsters and students. While the early entrants got a couple of seats I was not getting one and I enjoyed standing near the conductor seat at the back entrance looking through the clean back glasses at the oncoming vehicles and other buses. This is a good posture as it allows a good view to both sides. In a minute a new idea came to me that the conductor himself is not there and his seat is vacant and why not occupy it. And I did. This is a welcome relief for a little while as the conductor will come sooner or later as he will be scrambling among the customers o collect the fares. I saw him from the corner of my eye at the front, looking at a small ticket disburser and cutting tickets to various new entrants and forgot him for the time being.

I relaxed in my gracious seat and looked both to the front and back as this conductor seat gave a general view to either side of the bus to survey all the travelers. But all the same, the conductor, well trained at his work, will not sit until he has disbursed tickets to all those who are travelling.

The morning sun shined on the right side of the bus and the seat I had was on the left. Again a plus at that. I thought of writing about it and then..Lo..the conductor appears in front of me asking me to come out of the seat which I did..without a second thought. He said my fare and I gave the money and he brought up his ticketing machine and punched the fare and pulled the paper receipt or bus ticket as it is called and gave it to me and sat down. My enjoyment here was over as more people were entering and I had to move forward. On going forward I saw a few people sleeping in their seats as if they may sleep the whole day. It did not seem if they are going anywhere at all, but for their dress up and bags. Some how it was a hurt to those who are standing.

Suddenly a man got up two seats ahead of me and two people tried to scramble in. I couldn't have made it as I was two seats away. Only those who are immediately near the seat can make it. But neither of them could make it as the man next to him at the window moved to the isle seat which was vacated and called for his friend, three seats behind! I was an onlooker in the whole drama. The friend sent a little boy of ten to occupy the seat and sent another boy of nine to sit in his lap. The seat well utilised. I was happy for no apparent reason. The sun was climbing up and I was slowly wearing out. Now I can look both ways but can't see much as more people have come in as the bus was reaching 'Sholi' ! Sholi is for short, the real name is Sholinganallur which is a major four cross with a long long red light. Earlier the red light stops during the mornings in peak hours used to take half an hour to forty five minutes, but now after a few traffic rearrangements it took only ten minutes and we could pass the red light and come to the Kandanchavadi Toll booth stop where more people and a large number of school girls and boys got in. They all were carrying their huge back packs and talking happily to each other. Some girls had jasmine lines well tied to their hair which filled the bus with its aroma.

After the Kandanchavadi stop, I got my seat and was happy to be seated after a half an hours standing. The driver pulled the huge gear lever from time to time as the bus had to weave its way in the huge number of vehicles which had all sorts of vehicles, from bicycles and motor cycles (which were the maximum, next to cars). There were also huge lorries with water tanks, goods carriage minivans and all sorts of cars jostling with one another all the way and the bus driver a patient youngster pulled his lever and managed his way on his extreme left side of the wide road.

The vehicle took a driving test passing through the narrow channel of the toll booth and came out to see the overhead metro going with passengers and after the metro came to a right turn where the light was green but was full of all other vehicles jostling for space. Again the driver did his stick work and moved the bus among all the other vehicles and came to 'Jayanthi Cinema' (which is my stop to get down even though I have never seen any cinema in such a hall or a hall with another name which is there). I got up to the ultimate relief of the person standing on my shoulder and slowly made my way to the front entrance and got down. The outside was busy but was cool and crispy after the overnight rains. That was a cool journey by any means without any extreme waits anywhere in the morning!

The Beautiful Morning Rains!

The Beautiful Morning Rain in our Noida Colony!

This morning it rained in our colony in Noida. It rained heavily. It is a well built colony with good greenery and flowers. But there is enough room left for rain enjoyment by the catchment water flowing around and staying around for some time until it is pumped out !

The light thunder and lightning started before it was dawn and the wind brought the rains as a drizzle first and followed by a heavy down pour through the dawn which stopped by seven of the clock in the morning! This the time for the little kids to go to school. Various children were being either carried by their parents or sent out in little colourful umbrellas to get into their vehicles to be dropped to school.

Some could get into their cars in their sheds or garages themselves and ride through half foot deep water which had collected. The very little children who came out to go with their parents to buy milk, bread or butter enjoyed the accumulated water to the most, by splashing it around.

Normally a heavy rain and downpour will send off the electricity supply for a while but today that did not happen. So, the elevators were working. Inside the elevator was always cosy with the warmth of the little tube light. But one should not look around inside for once the sight falls on the long red spit which normally lies dried up in the corners will dampen the mirth which comes out of the great rain outside. It is customary for the workers to eat paan, ie. betel leaf with calcium and arecanut which when chewed gives a very red colour and keeps away foul odour of the mouth. But if the person spits out it spoils the clean places around and many do spit out even though there a lot of awareness advertisements, but the eaters mostly miss them.

Outside a small wind was there passing through the flowering plants and trees giving out their aroma. But the roads well tarred and the spaces well done up with warps in cement will not allow the water to go down and this floats around for a while when the little children who are lucky to come out can play for a while.

The sky remained overcast with a continuous drizzle which brought the temperature well down and all around enjoyed the beautiful graces of the rain.!

 Other side of the rain was the facility it allowed the animals and being around.  In the flowing waters was a little earth worm going on a visit to its near and dear.  In far away  Kerala, it is the water snakes which start out on visits in the flowing rain waters.  Olden times, it was the frogs which rules the roost in the rains and before and after it.  But now, that has changed as most of the frogs have disappeared and the ones available are few and far between.  Likewise the fish in the fresh water.! The little puppies taking a dip with their mother she dog ever watchful of its litter.  The flowers and leaves floating all over.  The only danger is from the live electric wires if they touched the water by any chance and an open pit where the cover slab has been removed.  If this happened one has to be cautious to climb out or cry out for help.  But such accidents, by the Grace of God does not happen in our Colony or in the city.  At times such are reported from far away places.!

Whatever it is, the rains are always a blessing which is enjoyed by one and all.  If we are lucky, which we are, we will have a wonderful week of rain now! Let me dedicate this to all the rain lovers!

The Steamy Steamy July Delhi

The steam tube called Delhi

The weather, in Delhi and suburbs in June and July,  is good if it rains.  If it doesn’t,  then we are in a steam bath.  The rains will bring in untold problems of water logging after the rains even though the temperature will come down very well and the breeze will be cool. 

Our little Maruti car did it well at eighty in the Express way which is a good road from Noida to Delhi.  The oft-driven route was a joy again to drive through.  Only place it slowed down is at Pragati Maidan where one has to be very careful as vehicles move inch by inch here,  up until the High Court and beyond till one enters the circle of India Gate.  Once we turn left at the end of Pragati Maidan we closein at the long red light near the end of the Old Fort.  Here we can stop and relax as the red light duration is pretty long here.  Once we stop and relax one can see a lady driver ahead continuously making up her hair, another typical regular Delhi Driver keeps his driver door open and elaborately spits paan juice (paan is generally a mixture of betel leaves, areca nut, calcium and at times a pinch of tobacco)  to the road.  Road is considered to be a regular place to spit, if one can stop for long.  As betel chewing is a normal phenomenon which is a heritage. 

The number of vehicle on the road is increasing day after day due to the rapid progress being made in all circles including the increasing number of car companies exhorting one and all to own one’s own vehicle.

Once in the circle of India Gate, the traffic is smooth and we take our smooth turns at our required road to the beautiful Raj path Road from which we go to our Krishna Menon Marg.  The little ‘Gnat’ fighter planes displayed at the Air Headquarters are unmistakably awe inspiring as they are small and had done their heroic bit in the 1971 war which had made several heroes and a new history !

We visited our Bank Branch of State Bank of India where with all the cooperation of all concerned we could get only half our work done.  Many a time things are like that here!  The first officer directed us to another officer for getting a renewal  of an account which we required badly.  The officer to whom I was to approach was surrounded by several people with a lot of papers in their hands.  They were all standing to get a linking of the ‘Aadhar’ which is a unique identification.  The officer concerned under a lot of pressure of the work volume, still, took my paper and offered to do it.  But, then the computer printer would not work. He tried to coax the printer into activity for long and ultimately failed.  Then he turned to his desk top for other works other than printing.  Then the work won’t  go further as the server was not working.  That was the end of our tether. 

We thought of riding back before the office release as the officials returning from office work will swell on  the roads.

Our assumption did not fail.  We got a generally free road through which we flowed back for forty five minutes to reach home in the evening breeze.  The moment we got down it started perspiring. The humid climate will persist till a good rain lashes Delhi and suburbs.  Hopefully in the next  three four days.

The story of Langclaath and Vaamclaas

The Langclaath and Vaamclaas

The above are two items of cloth. One is Langclaaath and the other Vaamclas. Such words come up once in a while and how quickly we get it deciphered will ease our concern, inquisity and anxiety for the word and its meaning so that we can go further with the conversation or the further action out of the conversation.

The first word happened to me when I was an eligible employment seeker and was in seartch for a job at the age of twenty. An old friend of mine at that time, far back, wanted to help me out of kindness and told me that I can come to the office where he was working and meet his boss for a job in cloth sales. I met his boss who interviewed me quizically and after concluding various items of conversation told me to go and meet an old man in another big cloth shop which belonged to his family. I met the old man who was in his seventies and he asked me straight away in a great Malayalam accent: What do you know about claath and what do you know about laangclaath?

My quick answser surprised him in that I said: “I was asked to come and meet me and these is no need of a lot of questions. I have already been questioned by the gentleman who interviewed me”. The old man whom I did not know at that point of time looked at me for a while and disposed me by saying: OK..OK..You may go back to the office from where you came: and kept on looking back at me as I was leaving.

In the office back, my earlier interviewer was amused at the whole incident and told me in humour: “You know who was the gentleman whom you met. He is my father and the owner of all these!” I was taken aback but did not show my surprise. The interviewer boss appointed me, however ! I knew the word was 'long cloth', one of the two kinds of cloth being sold by the company, viz. 'long cloth' and 'mull' called here in the southern part of India as 'malmal'. Malmal is a sought after cloth in pure white cotton, which is bought by one and all for various kinds of uses in dressin the southern part of India, in the olden days and to an extent even now.

The second word happened few months after wards when I was getting ready to leave Kerala for Delhi on a Government job and was making enquiries to those who had travelled to that part. In those days of the early eighties not many people had travelled to the far of Delhi from Kerala.  Mostly peoploe read in newspapers the news coming from New Delhi. My father and elders suggested an old Newspaper Editor who was in his eighties and I went to meet him along with my father. He was a well built, very tall and majestic gentleman infront of whom I appeared puny, at twenty two-twenty three years of age. He heard us patiently, looked at my appointment order for a while. Then he looked up at the skies as if he was seeing something there and slowly started telling us in a very friendly way: “Oh..Delhi...Delhi is OK. You need vaamclaas and the usual other items. It will be cold there. The rest doesn't matter” . We heard him and thanked him profusely for his great advice and walked home.

'Vaamclaas' troubled me for a long time and I assumed that it could be either a particular item or it could be 'warm clothes'. My father asked me if I could get what he said for which I just shook my head which my father took that I had understood. I thought, I shall use it the next day in to-to. Next day, at the big cloth shop, I asked the sales-executive : “Do you have vaamclaas?” The smiling executive did not think twice. He directed me to go upstairs where I found all sorts of warm clothes which were available in that shop ! Yes, vaamclaas is 'warm clothes' for sure! Thereafter whenever I hear vanclo or vaamclaas, it used to bring a smile on my face! 

Father's Blessing...., the Mother's Blessing.....!

Father's Blessing, the Mother's Blessing....!

The train to Delhi rumbled out slowly from the Thrissur station. The Jayanthi Janatha was a 'all second class' train in those days. My brother and sister had come to the station in the taxi car from the village which came to drop me. The Thrissur station was called 'Trichur' in those days. There were no pre paid booth or too much rush for buying tickets. The present separate reservation centre was not there!

My brother helped me to bring up my small suitcase and bed bundle along with the umbrella which father had given. The train arrival was announced by a tripple bell and then the train, a diesel engine arrived. The entry was unceremonious and once I settled down in the seat near the window our countries changed: Now my brother and sister will be in Thrissur and then back home where as I will lose their connection and the train will move forward. Slowly it happened. We were separated into different worlds. The diesel smoke came through the open windows. It was cleared by the fresh air which blew in from the Wadakkanchery and Ottappalam paddy fields and coconut palms.

There were no pockdet phones or cell phones as we know now, the only connections were the letters which I can send by post. I had kept blank inland letter forms and post cards, enough to keep me for a fortnight. The first letter will be after I reach and it will reach only after four days at the minimum and a weeks time at the most. In unusual cases, it may be a very long time wihout any sharpness of time. Slowly the time became dark and the lights in the compartment came up. It was a clean compartment with oak wood seats and berths without any bed. The kosady bed (a light cotten wool bed) was useful in these circumstances and I took full advantage of it in my early journeys along with the pillow which mother had specially sewed up for me.

The train had a pantry car with all the members from Wadakkanchery as bearers or servers. They endered all the travellers soon with their contnuous servings of tea and snacks. Took orders for meals for those who needed it. At times sat with travellers who were first timers and gave sincere advices and related their own experiences etc. Etc.

I surveyed my co travellers, a family of four, a young girl and a stocky youth sleeping in the upper berth. Time became dark and dinner was served. That is the time for the evening meal. I opened my little pack of home made meal neatly packed in a piece of plantain leaf covered again with news paper and nicely tied up. Once it is opened, I could see my mother and all my sisters and brothers in it. It was all their effort and this will be my last meal from home until my next visit. That brought tears in my eyes, but I tried to control it. The nice fish curry had its aroma which was mouth watering, and it had a piece of fried omlette and a big piece of fried fish which I was really fond of. It was an unduly huge piece, just put there as a parting gift. Slowly, I worked into the food and soon got it all over and prepared for sleep. A few minutes we chit chatted among the co-travellers and then it was the nicest of sleep in the low rocking mostion of the train and the light wind blowing with no rains.

Once in Delhi, after two days of rolling up in the Jayanthi Janatha I was in my work station where the whole life style was different in a single room residency. I wrote home of the hilarious journey in the train to appease my mother (Otherwise she will panic for me and will think 'my child is put to too much hardship'. To amuse her I wrote: “Mother, why did you put such a huge piece of fry fish in the pack. You should have give it to Father.” After two weeks, I got back a letter from home in which my mother wrote back with the help of my sister : “I had kept it for Father, but Father only said: “I am here, and the little boy is going: Give it to him in his supper pack” “We don't know when we will have another meal with him” ...I was really wonder struck at his simple kindness and forethoughts about me which he never showed outside!

The June Rains

The June Rains

Raining cats and dogs is only an idiom. But in Kerala it really takes shape in June. This month starts always with a severe rain. The rain continues all through the day and gives relief to the parched earth which had been fied though a severe April May heat.

The paddy fields get filled up and the rainy season is selected for ploughing and putting new saplings or sowing seeds. The natural coolness of the climate is good for great sleep. June and July are the rainiest people getting maximum sleep during the period. But all this are enjoyed with other members in the family.

When time passes, in Kerala, the number of members become less in the family and the left over members pull on the days in the fond memory of the times they spend together with their loved ones, the struggles they had to pull on and fix their children, the anxiety they faced together in seeing their wards employed etc. Then the great rupture of love and affection when their little children grew into big people, brought in their earnings to sit around and enjoy a sumptuous meal or go on a small tour etc.

Then the time machine turns again and the big little children get married and bring in new people who do not know the times and struggles they faced together. Then naturally due to the pressure of the work and place the new little families travel away and live in far off places, making an occassional call on the phone or appear rarely for a celebratory occasion at hom. Now they have to adjust to each other and make a new beginning. That is the time the rains and shines become more endearing to them. The time they come home, the parents keep counting the calendar and the children come hap-hazardly with their express plans to get back to do their work chores where ever they come from.

When one come fare a busy city life, they remember some of the old times, but most of the times they have forgotten. But memories become prescious to the old people and they cring to it. It is not that memories have any value except for them, but those who have the memories, those memories keep them going..! Strange as it seems, it is the story of most of the elderly and many a time they do not think of it or relate to it unless they get an opportunity.

In the old times when it rained children used to be enthused to play in the rains by making dams and water tunnels. When they enjoy it through and through, it was the parents who became happy and thought it was a reason for life. The little ones' happiness always burst into loud laughter as they shouted their achievements to their parents and grand parents. That is another group of people, the Grand Parents. Olden days most families had the added happiness of having Grand Parents with whom the little children made instant company to the joy and relief of the young parents. Now, that has become a luxury. Either they have lived out or died out or in rare cases, they are kept out.

How so ever, they kept their grand memories prescious until the very last. The rain time is also a time for instant diseases when parents run helter skelter to get their little ones treated back to good health. Old people who are too delicate and bed ridden pass on to the other world during this time of the year. This time it was selected, it seemed to me, because in an agricultural world, most of the people would be at home due to the rains when a peaceful death is possible after seeing most of the family members around. Many had their premonitions, and called the family members to give their advices and blessings before they closed their eyes for the last time to be reborn into their next world. It is a type of account closing, one may say.

Regardless of whatever happens, the rain continues to complete its course. The plants and trees are jubilant during the period and grow with great vigour. And this make the farmers happy. The birds and animals generally find the think rains and wind somewhat comburesome. The birds can't fly enough to catch their prey and the cattle find it difficult to graze in severe rains. They wait till the rains ease., which ultimately it does.

At times, the rains are coupled with great lightning and thunder when the electricity fails and everybody can take rest. Nothing work at such times. The wall plugs of the instruments have to be pulled out for fear of the instruments burning out in the extreme charge of electricity in the lightning. This happens rarely, but at times, it does happen in some place or the other. In any case, the nature is generally kind in this and most of the time our prayers to God to protect us from all kinds of calamities are heard and answered. Life goes on after the rains in the next bright mornings with a new vigour and enthusiasm.

The Seven sisters...!

The seven sister birds landed up on the jack fruit tree in the early morning itself.  They were just starting the day but from the early morning itself they had their differences of opinion.  The babbled so severely, that I had to make a show of 'about to throw a stone' acting on which they dispersed to distant trees but did not stop babbling. They kept on chirping on some unsolved issue as usual.

I never could get to know what could be their difference of opinion.  But from the various sisters who seemed to quarrel, these seven sisters could be human beings at a far far back time.  After a while I moved to the well to take water for daily use when these sisters came around again but without chirping.  They were keen looking for worms and other little food they could get under the trees where I had cleared some old leaves and branches. 

They also wait for my water which I used to put under the trees.  When the water is put they could get some water as well as some fresh worms which will come up when the loose soil is wet.  The well water is going down day by day as the summer is not receding even though there are shadows in the sky and at times lightning.  Monsoon is about to come.  The water in well has gone deep requiring the use of a pulley which I was avoiding so far.  The pulley marvel had helped people in this side of Kerala from a long long time.  The olden drum pulleys were built in wood which are generally non existent now.  The present pulley is made in steel with nice bearings on both sides.  The rope used in the pulley is now nylon instead of the old time coir which is now being revived.

The old time coir had an earlier competitor in the rubber beading rope which were generally cut out from the old time tyres etc.  Now that the tyre technology went on inserting steel plates etc. or so, the use of rubber rope is not seen being used or being av available. 

The 'seven sisters' have now moved away and a 'copper smith' has appeared on the scene looking for water and food.

In Honour of Mother...!

Mothers are a different lot. They come from heaven. They give everything they have to their children and become happy in what they have given. Then, they smile and return to heaven to smile at as twinkling stars at night to look after us. This was the case of my mother who never asked anything but always wanted to see us happy and wanted to give us something always, how so ever, little it was!

When we were little children she used to take us to the morning mass, through the short cut way, through the paddy fields and by lanes. In those days, the by lanes were un-tarred and on both sides were hedges made by little bamboo branches with thorns. Well done up by the artisans of the time and bound by the latest kind of steel wire, these hedges were places where snakes made their nests and even other wise grazing them will bruise us. Mother always watched over us to see we did not walk too close to the hedge or our feet do not strike against little rock stones which protruded at places on the walk path.

Once on the motor roads she was all eyes and ears to see that we cross the road safely, even though vehicular traffic was very little. She gave us directions to be pious in the church and be attentive before we entered the church. On the way back she allowed us to collect holy water for the house hold use from a special area where it was kept for taking by the parishners. At times I watched here during the mass and she was on her knees with the customary kerala Christian dress fully immersed in prayer. It seemed she was seeing Jesus and was talking to him for our well being. I never thought, she ever, prayed for herself. It will always be for us or for Father or somebody who is sick or in difficult circumstances in the family.

Once home, she was busy preparing food for us. In preparing food in olden times, it was A to Z work without the help of any kind of gadgeteries. Apart from the curring knife, scraping seat and the grinding stone everything had to be done by hand. The vessels were earthenware and the normal kitchen fire was smoky if one did it without expertise. Once suffered a lot of smoke and heat in the process any way as continuous standing near the item being cooked was a necessity as many of the dainty dishes were cooked under continuous stirring in low heat. Whenever things are put on low heat cooking, it is customary, the time taken will be much longer. This was the reason of the extreme patience of all golden mothers. And my mother did it every day.

The one and only request my mother made to me was “Son, now you can go and study”: She always said that and that sent me away to the front of the house where I used to sit down for study. While studying, she will come near me always asking “Do you want some tea?” Tea is only tea water only, a little tea dust boiled in water with a piece of jaggery. That was the stuff we had and that was the stuff we took. This too was normally supplied in the households only in the morning and evenings. But in our case as most of the children were studying, most of the time, one relaxation was put for us, that tea water is supplied and I was a permanent welcomer to this peculiar drink which till date thrills me. My mother will be smiling in heaven when I write this. She always knew, I liked it and she brought it to me upteen number of times, when she came to me to speak to me, about general matters.

Every once in a while she made some delicacy or the other and fed us. At times father brought choicest fish and it was mother who cooked it or fried it under father's directions. Such culinary delights from such ever fresh fish or meat, I have, never had even in the best of holtels, all over the world. Father used to say : “Eat as much as you can now when we are able to procure and feed it to you. In your own times, how so ever rich you may be, who knows, whether you can have all that delights”. He proved proverbial. Mother always sided with him and said : “Just heard what he said, have as much as you want” We did have as much as we wanted whenever supply was plenty.

Once while she was returning from church there was a small hurricane and all the trees were shaking. This was time just before the rains and rains were in the offing. She was walking home and she found the mango trees are shaken violently and all the ripe mangoes were falling on the road. She picked up as much mangoes as she could, kept in her whilte dothi (which she used to wear specially for church only) slowly walked back home without any consideration about her own safety. The garden fresh mangoes were a relishers delight. While relishing the mangoes, I asked her “Mother, you should have taken shelter somewhere, instead of going collecting the mangoes” She was casual in her reply : “When we come from church, Jesus will not allow any harm to come to us, not even a single mango tree or its branch fell whole of the time, I was on the road!” I was aghast at her deep faith!

Times went by and Ileft for my job to far off Delhi which took the first toll through the death of my father. He could not take the shock of my leaving the family. It became evident to me after a few months of my leaving home, which was a full home of several children and father and mother, as was the order of most of the households of the time. But against all odds, mother held on. She said “My son has got a good jobs far away in Delhi, but he comes every year” ! She said the every year with insistence. That was the ration of time, I could provide her! Once she said: “Ever since you leave, I keep counting the dates on the calendar..!” This statement of hers used to wet my eyes even to this day, even after long long she is gone..! She is still counting the dates for me in Heaver..!

The love of mothers...! That is unparalleled..! Those who enjoyed, those who relished it can never forget it..! (About the love of the father, next time...!)

Continuing to read Ruskin Bond......

Living in the present day world without books has become more difficult than earlier. Especially when you are travelling by train on long routes. Earlier people were more docile and good speak to. Now one has to pick and choose as we do not know if a person would want to speak to the next person or not. Many are hooked to their android phones, some are talking loudly to some one in some other city and some are out right glum. Some people come as groups, all their things will be in place, they have most of the things they want but will speak only with the members of their group totally ignoring those around. If you travel near such a group and if you are alone you would desperately need a friend to talk to and that is where books come in.

These occasions will be wonderful if we have our favourite books as the author will be our companion as long as we want to. I had a book by Ruskin Bond as I related in one of my earlier pieces. The book is named 'Friends in small places' Ruskin Bond wrote touchingly and soothingly in great English prose which any one would like to read and it will touch the reader, no doubt. In the present book of stories he tells about a couple of his uncles in different stories called Uncle Ken and Uncle Bill. Uncle Ken is a great guy who lived mostly as the guest of his many sisters and as the Authors Granny happened to be one of his sisters he turns up there once in a while to enjoy her hospitality and search for suitable employment nearby. Even though he succeeds at times before long he comes back to his unemployed status and continue to live on hospitality. Bonds beautifully puts before us the psychology of the person in front of us but only through their simple actions and speeches or dialogues which enthralls us as this could be any one met in any of the families with whom we are in touch. At times you or I can see someone of the same skin in our own families too.

In another story called Bansi and the Aaya he relates us to the life in Dehra where he spent most of his times writing his books and taking his long walks. As a little boy with cheery eyes and ever observant of his surroundings, he tells us about the everyday life and how a cart man comes in touch with the family and he gives him occasional rides for free butr with the condition he should provide some money for his tea which is agreed upon. This favour he does to the child as he consider him as a 'Angrez'. The Angrez (The English) were held in great respect in those days of far back when the British were in the ruling class. The life of Bansi who keeps his horse cart and the way he gives service for the needy taking a fee and how he keeps his horse clean by giving it an occasional bath in the river etc. Is very neatly etched out for the readers of posterity in touching style. Then in the same story we are related to the Aaya (the maid servant) who is ever envious of Bansi the cart man and in several of his advices to little Bond she narrates all the vices Bansi is indulgent to. A young and jealous woman's mind can't be more clearly put in. Without writing he imparts the underlying feelings to the reader.

To top it all comes the story of Uncle Bill, who worked as a Male Nurse in those days of old, around the time of the Second war. His story is suspense ridden and gripping but soothing in the hands of the author. Uncle Bill is a well behaved and nicely mannered soft spoken person who administers a powder to who so ever is close to him who can be of interest to him and whose porperty and assets can pass on to him after they pass away. Invariably the administration is secret and discreet without any doubt to any one including the taker as it is almost always given in any of the food or drink of the person. The suspense and anxiety would increase when Mr. Bill turns up to take the hospitality of the author as he is his only relative remaining. The story grips any one who are lucky to read his book – friends in small places- which keeps one in great spirits where ever one is. And when it is in a train journey, it is a joy.

By the time people set bed and sleep you would have covered quite a few pages and can go to bed in the lovely hope of reading more the next morning as the benevolent author keeps our soft anxiety on all the time.

Reading Ruskin Bond..! 'Friends in Small Places'

The Gentleman Ruskin Bond (his pen name) is a great writer of English prose which evokes feelings of nostalgia, beauty of English prose and a  feeling of brotherhood among human beings who generally think this life as a gift.

The story of Masterji who taught Hindi and the students thought it was Hind and ultimately it turned out to be Punjabi is enthralling.  Inspector Kismet Lal who was never to be a Police Inspector but was one shows the kindness of human beings to other humans and (almost Godly) and loses his promotions but saves further complications for his fellow beings is  is a must read for todays generations.

The story of Kishen Singh, the Watchman of the Train Tunnel, was an unforgettable lovely friend to the young Ranji who could not forget him when he was leaving for Delhi for further prospects at the command and order of his Dad is one of nostalgia and keep sake thoughts which every one has, who travels out to new boundaries.

To enjoy the feelings one has to go through his book, 'Friends in Small Places' by Ruskin Bond.  I leave it to you my dear readers to go through and enjoy them.
Take a chance and enjoy whenever y\ou can lay your hands on the book.

The Sweetness of a Mother.....!

The Sweetness of a mother..!

Mothers are a different lot altogether. This is appreciated when one is a child and if they keep up that feeling in later life. Generally, such feelings are seen to be lost in many as they grow up. This loss of the childhood feelings are the reason behind many people belittling their mothers at times, even though rarely.

Mothers look after their little ones with great fervour and if necessary, apart from looking after the little ones, they also go for work to find food for the smalees. I saw this when I was a little one. We had a simple life in a small shed house where father used to get food articles and mother used to cook them. Cooking in those days meant all the house hold work from cleaning and washing for all plus cooking. In such a time father fell sick and things stopped abruptly. There was no more food articles at home and that is when mother had to go out for work.

In those days, there were several works availavble which women generally did as a team. One was going to beat the hay which is not fully removed of the paddy in them. This secondary removal of the paddy sticking to the hay was for keeping the hay in future stock and those who do the beating to clear the lect over paddy from the hay, can have the paddy which they beat out of the hay. By the evening everuy wp,am wpi;d jhave nbeat arpimd five to ten measures of paddy. This paddy had to be taken home, fried, agaom neatem om a mill stone to remove the husk and the rice taken out before it is cooked. All these mother did, as if she is doing a simple work which is a natural thing that every body does.

Now, looking back, I can't beleve her perseverence and enthusiasm. She kept on for a while until father recovered from his phyusical illness and startede going to work again. There after, mother did not have to go for such work. When ever we questioned her she had the stock reply : “Working is not a problem for me. I only want to see you people should be properly fed and looked aftger. And of course, when you grow up, you can get enough groceries and things for the house and then, I won't have to go for any work.” As an eager child to help in the household, I used to follow mother to the house where she went for beating up the paddy from the fresh hay. That is when I used to play around and whenever she had a little time free, she used to come to me to talk.

Every mother in our neighbourhood thought the same for their children. When the paddy was brought home, the first thing was to bring water for cooking and house holduse. This was the next immediate necessity. Here too, I accompanied her to the well without any wll protection in a comound much below our house compound. Here, the land lies in different levels one below the other the gradient slowly going down and reaching the paddy fields. The well I distinctly remember as it had a huge tamarind tree on the edge of it. Mother used to lean to the well and pull the water using a long rope which she pulled back folding the coir rope from right hand to left hand from time to time. In the last lap she caught the 'pala' (the water pulling vessel) which she herself used to make from the arecanut leaf stalks. Making a pala into a water pick up, itself was an art using a piece of stick and a measure of cmall coir rope. This equipment is not only beautiful but also very clean. I worked for a season if kept well. It should not be allowed to be in the 'pala' after its use for pulling water., so that the pala remained dry.

Oine of such days she felt dizzy and this gave us very anxious moments. She had put the 'pala' into the well and slowly she kept the rope under one of her feet and turned around to the tamarind tree and held on to the branch with her head down. I asked her what is the matter, but shed did not reply for a while. After a long while she just turned around, picked up the rope, pulled up the water and slowly started walking towards home. On the way, she told me “ I was feeling dizzy. My head was realing and I was not in a position to reply you. That is why I did not reply your questions” “Thank God, I am ok, now” This made me really ill at ease. I was wondering how long she went to look after us all, providing all our needs without any care about herself..!

Use of Cell phone and computers and so on..!

My first cell phone was a Nokia. A small simple phone which had grey crystal letters which was visible in a green lit background, but nothing visible in bright sun light. I had difficulty in using it as many a time I had a call while I was on mky two wheeler on the road. I used to stop on the side of the road and find it difficult to see the screen. On moving to the shade of a tree, there were the last trees standing then, I could make out the call and answer the caller. A long time use of it made it old, and need arose to get a new one.

The new one a Samsung at that, had the added advanbtage of a two speaker radio which couyld be conveniently used in my car while going out in the morniong and returning in the evening. The old little Nokia was conveniently handed over to home use. This new cell phone, the Samsung went on giving good service untile the back button started to falter and there was need for another replacement. This again was another Samsung called a RX 360 with screen and icons with other Jawa facilities on it. I still was not good into using an Android yet. Of course a Computer in the office, and a home computer was by now in vogue and there were used for official and personal uses according to whereever I used to be. Thgere was not much to do on the pc except checking personal mails and at times seeing the face book. Or Orkut by Google.

A television was another screen which we used to relax at home and get some of the news at times useful, and at times only for entertainment, like a movie or an art programme given by the TV Channels. A strong me, who was against any kind of automation or radiation waves from the very beginning, was slowly sucked into using them out of utmost every day necessity. As enybody knows, one had to run when everybody else was running. The old house phone which was being used to make calls and convey informations started becoming obsolete as one would be late to send a piece of information if one did not have a cell phone and when at last at times one reached home to see an out of order ordinary phone.

Nowe one has to go to the Department to get it repaired and that was not normally done at night. At times it took more than a day and this was the last push to use a cell phone on the first instance. Now some information if required could be passed on the internet mail too which made the use of

an internet computer a necessity. More over the use of the internet computer was slowly making its was to offices and those who could not cope with it was being considered slightly inferior, if not they were middle level or senior level officers and upwards. Those who kn ew where their bread is buttered had to go for the new trick on the block, the ability to use the internet computer. Or at the minium the use of a computer.

The use of a lap top computer was slowly coming up as travel always needed the internet faciliity for which the Desktop PC could not be carried. Use of a lap top made its up keep a necessity. Cleaning it up and keeping it recharged etc. This also went for all other earlier equipments.

The use of a tablet which will squeeze the use of the lap top into a much simpler activity was some thing which seemed to be a better option. Once it was at hand, the lack of space in it and lack of some of the programmes on them became a bottle neck, especially the inconvenience while using it as a cell phone. One had to keep a large slate to the ear or if this was put on sound, the privacy of the conversation will be lost. And that was the time when the majestic Android walked in with its cell phone capability coupled with its other facilities like, camera, radio, torch light, email, sms, phone banking etc.  I don't know, what all else..!

The old typewriter which was the great grant father and its successors the electric typewriter and the electronic typewriter all with drew with the rise of the other earlier equipments which is on at the time moment. But the users are at a loss to check mate of the time lost on all these equipments and seriously thinking how to reduce the time spent on most of these plus the TV Channels.