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.

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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.....

Week day Musings....!

All days have 24 hours, but holidays have only twelve hours, no? Perhaps, not. But to a usual working guy, it would seem to be. The morning itself opens up at nine o' clock and matures to be noon after the holy mass in a matter of two hours. After lunch, if you have friends, you lose your after noon nap and the evening dinner is soon to be at seven and then you have to be ready for the Monday morning..!

Monday mornings will hurt you only until you have started the day in office and had the first cup of tea. Once on the high way of the week, you do not remember which day it is, but go by the dates and programs. All days alike the news paper is a big solace in the morning! Once it is day break, there the over zealous little boys comes running with the paper and at the thud of the paper at the door one feels like getting up. At times the boys have to absent, getting up gets difficult. More difficult are the morning ablutions for want of the paper.

Once the paper in hand, one has all the interest in life and proceeds to the bathroom for ablutions. During the ablutions, the mind if busy noting the happenings of the day before and the statements oand arguments various leaders made and the criticisms offered by matching opposite thinking people. Mind becomes full of criticisms and other ways how things would have been done in a better way. A few decisions are taken to send a letter to the editor, to form a new political party, to join an existing one, to begin with a new start up and giving life a new try different from the one which one is used to so far.

After a clean shave and bath all those things are sent away with the bath water and a clean fellow comes out ready to take the day's burden extactly as it was being done so far and preparing the neck to carry for burden like an obedient bullock under the yoke. On the break fast table, one more last look at the day's paper gives a feeling of goodness and one feels like taking to the advertisements for various items offered.

The paper starts with the new android phones with its various facilities offered including the camera in front and at the back, the various applications available on it and its detailed specifications which normally one do not understand. The words, qualcom, snapdragon and octa-core etc. flow like water and the only thing I have heard is the chinese dragon. The words I could not understand are big enough for me to lift and I think the more troublesome the word, it may have something great in it. Quick recharging and huge number of MP in its cameras and all head start to turn which make me drag to the next advertisement about all the gold in the world. Since South India is the new E;-Dorado, all the gold in the world is here, so it would seem from the advertisements. People advertise all types of gold ornaments and challenge us to buy them if we are the greatest, which we would always presume to think. Even if we did not think ourselves as the kings, at least one can think of being a rich land owner for the matter of buying all sorts of gold offered.

When it comes to the Gold Supermarkets, we pass on to the auto motive advertisements which has been told to be the hark and hit of the times. An automotive jumps through a wall and claims to be the greatest with mettle and muscle! Another one says it has owned all the roads, yet another challenge one to make roads where there isn't any! Once your eyes are fixed on one of them, below there are small letters saying a few accounts as of cc..s, torque, Nm meaning Newtonmeter and what not. The head now really starts turning. If it is an old car, the company will put up the advertisement stating their new version with some 'FREE' stuffs like a Fog Lamp, or 'Shining Glitter on the Wiper Blade, a small steel bit some where else or yet again, a new feeling in the seats or a little LED light on the mirror etc. Which normally do not make any difference to the contraption which has to pull you! But then, they have to sell their wares. The old town cryers are not there to drup up and tell the public that such and such stuff are being offered.

That is time about to go to office, and I have to throw out the paper to the near by old paper stack and I am leaving for office. See you. That is it for today...!

The bi-cycle 'Bike'

The Bike called 'the bicycle'

No body speeks of bicycles these days. But it was not so thirty - forty years ago. This was when the Maruti cars were not born and the roads were ruled by the Ambassador cars and Fiats.

In the old time Delhi (exactly the New Delhi of 1976), a friend of mine told me he used to go to his college and other places on his bike and when I demanded to see it, he took me to an old bicycle (which my friends in Kerala used to call a piece of thorn hedge). I was not surprised, though it was half joke and half simple vanity of intelligent folk. This was the order of the day among the simple people, who worked either in a government office or a factory or private office where the take home salary was meager and ends were to be met and children were satisfied with what ever was available.

The bicycle had appeared in the market as a new invention far back but the buying capacity was meagre and even if one had the capacity, one had to be careful of the caste and social positions before one attempted this extreme event. Since New Delhi was a newly built cosmopolitan city where very many people from all States assembled, the caste stuff was not much in prevalence and hence, one could easily buy a desired transport, which was the bicycle. The other modes available were the 'tanga', the famous horse cart, a horse itself, if one could ride, the bullock cart, and of course the super rich could possess a motor car and the motor cycle. Other wise, buses were the convenient mode of transport which people embraced with great zest.

But the bicycle became the heart throb of many and one felt elated to be with one and possess one. In that respect, my friend youngster was right and I was thrilled by his expression of the 'bike'. That time New Delhi (not Old Delhi-which is a city apart from New Delhi even though both the cities are side by side places complimenting each other) was a place of peace and tranquility, a well laid out city with different sectors with its own housing units and parks and places of worship. From sector to sector one had to walk a few kilometres and a bicycle was a really helpful equipment then. Each sector had a sector market. Different sector markets had different shops which specialised in some item or the other and when one needed to to vsit such special shops is the need of the bike.

My young friends bike is a rusty bicycle with a stick for a pedal on one side and at the other a full pedal where the rubber supports were loose and hanging making a sound every time one pushed down the pedal. Somehow the guy used it with great expertise and took advantage of possession of the same. I had seen that kind of a bicycle with my uncle in Kerala who also used to use it with great love and affection. He had corns in his feet and walking was difficult for him. Hence, the use of the hedge was really a boon for him.

He used to come to see me every time I came down to Kerala from Delhi. Kerala soil had lot of little sharp stones in it making walking bare foot difficult for those who did so. This was interspersed with a few sharp thorns too which was available from the bamboos on the side hedges of the roads and by lanes in those days.