The Swimming that wasn't....!

A Swimming in Chennai which did not take place.

The morning had pretences of slight rain but it did not rain but remained cloudy. A son offered his father a swim in a pool connected to his office building if they were allowing it that day. They were road born with their simple swim gear and landed up at a nearby office building with very good gate arrangements. The cloudy atmosphere had changed to sunny and it had become steamy by then. The strong black gates told it was perhaps not possible and the two kept their wish under wraps.

Then the son went over to the little sub gate to enquire, since they had come thus far and found out that it was really open but they keep it closed as the custom was to open it on requirement only. That is good fo the new times. The son said, he would be allowed in as he is working member of the company but the father has to go through another gate. This was undertaken and the father was ushered in by a smiling security youth.

He was usheered to another registry desk where an elderly security lady was reading the day's vernacular daily. The moment she saw the outsider she did not even raise her head, but said simply, “Today no body can go in” . The the security assistant intervened to mention that this is the father of an employee on which the lady kept away her paper reluctantly and came over to make a photo ticket for the outsider. Once that was done, was a regisration and signing, both by father and son. There onwards, they moved to the next room to enter the main area where there was yet another registration and signing. The security arrangements were really good and competitive with the agency's name, resembling a dog's name, dash-hunt or labrador, on the pockets of the guards. It was really funny. Somebody had thought of that great animal who are so helpful in security and saving of humanity from time immemorial..!

After that they walked in the bright sun in very clean atmosphere with flowers on flowering plants arranged on both sidesof tile spread walkway which was sizzling in the bright hot sun shining through the coulds. Two minutes walk brought them to the pool building where they were told that there is no swimming allowed in that pool but only gym was only available but only for the employees which was useless to them.

A look at the pool was heart warming. As the crystal clear water in the shallow blue pool was rejuvenating. It was decided that there is no point in going for a swim in such a shallow pool in any case. On the way to the pool they saw a boy and his team at work with some road laying stuff. The boy started walking in their direction with some material in his hand. His jersy had the following caption on it : “IT IS THE SAME SHIT, A DIFFERENT DAY.” The father son group could not hide their smile while the youth walked away unknowingly what his jersy was blairing.

The father son started back on the 'hard drive' of OMR to return home.

Driving it Again......!

Driving it again

My fiirst thoughts of driiving is learning to drive a much longed for little fiat car (an Italian fiat, which was available in plenty at that point in 1972s in Kerala). At that point teaching was by small driving schools who had a trainer master, who taught his student to drives and those who did not perform well were treated to strong whackings on the head or neck or any other means like pinching or beating on the thigh etc. as the instructor pleased. As the people at that time had not liberated from the old Gurukul mind set where Guru is never questioned, it went on with all except those who categorically took special allowance not to be mistreated.

I was one among those who took special allowance as I took it as a great slight as I was already working in a responsible position in a local office. The Trainer School Manager agreed to this as he knew me and my family and he and my father were friends. When I put forth the suggestion he squirmed a bit at first and after giving it a thought and my difiant position he agreed saying: “Then I shall ask the Junior Master to take you in his sessions”. This was acceptable to me as I was not keen on who was training me and also I knew the Junior Trainer guy. The Senior Trainer cum Manager Owner was quick on his temper and bet up any one who happened to be helpless in front of him, especially in his training sessions.

Once this issue was settled and a brief introduction to the Junior Trainer we were on the road in the little bundle whose doors opened from the front side and we fell back into our seats. One is given the wheel straight away and the Trainer sitting on the left controlled the pedals but pretended not doing so initially. Once we got the feel of the road and generally started to control the wheel satisfactorily so as to avoid any accidents to self or other road users we were taken to a large tract of land for intensive training in reversing and moving backwards in different angles ultimately making each one take a test in driving forward in the hands of an “H” which shape was made of small iron wires which will stand straight on loose earth and will fall down as soonas a part of the car touched them. The test was to move the vehicle up in the left part of H and then reverse and move on the reverse to cross over to the right of the H through the middle. Then repeat the same through the right hand of the H and come back on reverse to turn and reach back to the left of H.

This was achieved in a matter of a month by which time one learned the beautiful little gear system which was operated through a stick set below the steering wheel, which was lovingly called the steering-gear. It had a steering mounted horn almost the same technique seen now also. There were no mirrors on either side, but a single rear vew mirror in side the cabin. The mechanism was too simple considered to the complex vehicles today.

Once a driving licence was earned, one was on top of the Everest but there was no further driving. Only one entered a car whenever one used a Taxi car. The taxi cars were mostly the old timers like Ambassador and Land Master and a springling of the old Hillmans and Plymouths. The fiat cars were mostly private cars used by well to dos like Doctors or Engineers or Business men. Ordinary millions only saw the cars. At times where there was an emergency they hailed a taxi car and sat through to reach a particular place.

The Ambassadors the ubiquitous of them were almost everywhere. They had the great backward closing doors, additionally mounted side rear views. A light shifting button to be operated by foot, a side indicator to be operated by hand but the button for the same provided in the centre of the steering wheel, a steel or chromium plated little circle above the steering wheen for the horn which was too very convenient. A common seat both in front and back which was supposed to take three each was used in an economy fashion to accommodate four almost all the time and in case of necessity to push five in the front seat and upto seven or eight in the rear a few little children also pushed in to utilise the whole space. Howsoever it was, all enjoyed a journey as the driver of the vehicle was almost always a known fellow and he in return also knew almost all in the village and conversed with them en route all through the journey.

A great part of the ceremonious work which all taxi drivers craved for was a special call to carry a marriage party. It was considered to be an honour to be called for such an errand as the fare collected is a lump sum plus a sumptuous lunch at the marriage venue. The cars in such cases are used for the whole day as it has to be taken early in the morning itself to ornament them with flowers and garlands, at times a smear of kalabham and chandan paste, a little perfume is also applied inside of them and it is taken to the house of the bride or de-groom as is the order and from the house of the caller it will go in an entourage of other cars too called for the same occasion carrying all the near relatives and friends called to grace the occasion. They had to wait at the marriage venue, where they can have their meals and rest and then return with the same group of people whom they carried along with the bride if it is a boy's marriage or with out any body extra but 'less' the bride who remains in the groom's house.

Of course, one of the same or more taxis will get a fare to bring back the bride after a few days according to custom. Except very rich people no body drove a car for pleasure as we see now.

A car, a taxi at that was summoned only on occasions of emergencies like accidents, diseases, exceptional meetings between relatives only.

All the time people were of and on seeing these moving chariots and were mesmerized at the convenience of moving. But a serious thought of such a requirement did not occur as the public transport was pretty good and in the old farming oriented society, people were mostly living in their own places of birth only. The life was in the village only if not in the farm lands and evenings were a time for one and all to assemble at home. With new governments and progress and information explotion that system was being changed. Cities were fast getting two wheelers which started to be considered a necessity by those who can afford them. A few motor cycles like Bullet, Jawa and Rajdoot from Yamaha etc. ruled the roost.

In the eighties, a new urge came to the people in general. Telephone possibilities and long dialling facilities were being increased and improved, news via television were becoming popular, the colour television was making an impact and people who saw them all started to become impatient in using more fast moving objects for their travel. There came a number of little moving equipments called mopeds with fifty cc engines and they were the fore runners of a driving India. As the common man could not afford a good motor cycle or scooter at that time, a little in between vehicle, between a bicycle and a motorbike was quite the thing to introduce. Once people got them they fast lost interest in what they got.

Then came the 'Marutii' from Suzuki which taught most of the people to use a personal vehicle. There after the interest in cars and their models have not looked back until this day when those who are too much used with all of them are starting to think if they can get from the world of all these vehicles to a vehicle-less period to avoid pollution and save the earth.

The old times..!

Times were of old and the boy lived in his big family. Their difficulty to meet both ends were common among all their neighbours too. The place did not have electricity and electricity was considered to be a luxury of the rich living in city towns or those who lived on either side of the important roads of the village angadii roads.

Those who lived in the inner lanes and bye lanes were used to the non electricity life. Rain and sun shine was plenty. The boy's house was a cutcha house with walls made of mud bricks and a tiled roof. The roof frame was entire built with bamboo stems and the whole structure gave a lot of fresh air. The little house stood on the side boundary of a largbe cashew orchard and it was the duty of the house hold to lok after the orchard. It gave them plenty of unripe cashew which was used to grind chutneys for morning break fast recipes like iddly, dosa or plain ice pudding called kanji.

The land did not belong to the boy's family house hold but to a rich land owner who came once in an year to collect an amount as due, for the usufructs of his land. He was a generous man as he did not insist on a huge amount and this made the life of the boy's family a bit easier compared to the tough land lords who meted out high charges to their lands entrusted to others.

The boys along with his brother roamed around the cashew trees, played there, at times made swings on the branches of the trees and enjoyed themselves. At times their sisters also joined them in these activities and it made the time all the more enjoyable. The father and mother looked after the house hold, father with his meagre incomes from a technical job he was doing in a leather business house and the mother doing all the house hold chores. She was a simple soul whose life revolved round her husand and her children. There was no other division of labour except all the chhildren were free to assist the mother all the time depending on their availability at home.

Mostly there were available as the only out side activity was to go to school which was from ten to four on six days a week. The school was nearby within a two kilometres of the house and all of them walked to school bare foot along with all other children who were also of the same predicament. The children (two girls, if one remembered correctly) from a rich Ayurvdea household came in a black ambasssador car and one child from another rich merchant's house hold came in a colourful single bullock cart in blue colour and the bullock having a bell at its neck. The bell jingled from time to time the cart ran and children made way for it automatically. The car also rarely made a horn, as the children on the road knew almost by heart when the black ambassador will pass.

The children had the aroma and smell of rose flowers which emanated in the gardens of the Christian Convent sister's school. The boys liked the school building as it had, apart from the smell of roses, a first floor with a wooden stair case which once in a while the boys got to climb. Small children were not allowed on the upstairs as the classes of the little ones were always below on the ground floor. The higher classes girls went upstairs to their classes. The boys' elder sisters studied in the first floor and that is how the tiny brothers could enjoy a climb to the first floor and see the little flower garden from upstairs. The boys were surprised to see that the garden had, apart from the roses, chrysanthamums, sun flowers, the yellow scented golden yellow chetti flowers and the purple ten o' clock flowers which opened up at ten o' clock every day.

All these made the school a little heaven from ten to five and the holiday on Sundays they could enjoy the breeze and quiet of the cashew orchard. The schooling of the boys and girls parted ways when the boys passed out of class three as boys above class three were not allowed in a girls school. The school was a girls school and the boys parents were to find other school for the boys. They got a far away school for an year for class four and another Government school after class four. The far away school was good in fresh air and so so in studies which suited both the boys and once they pushed that, were urceremoniously put to the Governent school whhich was also far away in the exactly opposite direction. Putting them to school was simple in those days as the only thing needed was to take them to the new school, give their head count and get their names written in the register for the particular class to which they are to be enrolled. The age etc. was what ever is told to the teachers by the parents or those sent by the parents who accompanied the children. The rest was according to the common sense of the registering teachers. The teachers carried a lot of weight and respect in those days and they also in return gave a lot of honour to the parents or the elders of the children.

Once studies upto Class ten was over, the elder boy went to study a trade in photo graphy and the younger one went to pre college. Both went to the local town, one to a photography studio and the other to the college. The one who went to college had to give a monthly fee to the college where as the one who went to the studio got little sums at times for doing extra work on holidays. The week day works were considered to be apprenticeship and hence the studio owner excused himself. This was fashion in the days of old.

Whatever holiday wages the elder got he brought home and it made their holidays a little posh..in their extreme poverty. Another thing he brought at times were the little batteries which were used up for flash photography. Their parents and all the children w ere surprised to see the small cells as the only cells they used to see were the big torch light cells used in the jeep torch when the elders had to carry at night for being safe from tropical snakes which were abundant and they crossed the roads and rivulets many times at night and one had to be careful as some were extremely poisnous.

..

I had difficulty breathing...!

I had difficulty breathing. It is like that in old age. Can't say it is actually a difficulty in breathing. Just a kind of breathelessness when I think of my ten children whom I brought to this world and tendered and nurtured so dearly through poverty and lack of everything except a small house and a devoted husband.

They all grew up in the difficulties. At times it was lack of food, at times it was absence of immediarte necessities other than food. The house is going to fall! The well we used to draw water is going dry, needs cleaning and deepening! A son or daughter is seriously sick! Or I am about to deliv er my next child and there is no money to go to the hospital. When I think of all that, I have difficulty in breathing.

I delivered ten children in a matter of twenty six years. The first two were boys, the next two were girls. The first girl died of 'karappan' a kind of skin disease which breaks up the skin surface, mostly on the legs. The treatment for the same is by ayurvedic potions and oils suggested by the local vaidyas (who were the ayurvedic doctors of old and their medications were mostly effective in almost all cases but the unfortunate few, of course, could not pull it out). I bore six more children in the long run and they were all slowly coming up through thick and thin. As soon as my little boys were in school they also started helping me at home as much as they could.

But then, there were their youngsters to be looked after which made house hold work a real job of twenty four hours every day. No body ever called it a 24 x 7 job in those days. Every thing started from the very early morning with the early chatting of birds. But then, it had its own advantage and happiness. All were happy together...as every body shared what ever food and clothes available! And for the lack of any thing, we had the local church where Jesus was always ready to hear the caries of the poor. There were other deities who also pitched in in case of urgent and crucial needs when anyone specially called upon them! Church attendance and activities were mostly free for the poor which looked after a great burden which otherwise would have increased the difficulties.

Time passed with great speed in which the first two sons grew up fast to support the family with their small jobs and in time they got married to suitable girls and that was it. Once married, they were gone. Now the third child was lost to the little disease of 'karappan' and the rest seven and the father of the children and I remained to eek it out. The father of the children was a great family supporter and very strong at that. His confidence in life was unparalleled. He was a 'he man' according to his little kids. And he stood up for all of them. The fourth girl was at school with her scholarship which was the major main stay of the house. A tower of hope.

The little house we had needed yearly maintenance which was a great burden to all families. It was here the girl proved a boon by providing her scholarship money to get the house redone all the years. She was followed by six more children, four girls with two boys thrown in. The fifth girl was pulled out of school and sent to a tiles factgory to add to the family kitty as my eldest son fell badly sick needing extensive treatment. That was the end of her education. The scholarship girl went on to get a government job and she helped all the rest settle down in life and got all of them married too including hereself. I have difficulty in breathing as I am bed ridden now. Feeding all of them to grow big and loving them all through was an enjoyable work which was the relaxation and satisfaction of life.

The loving husband stood his ground all through in supporting the family asx much as he could and after his heroic job at that departed in good time, just faded away after a long term of work, working till his last day in llife and doing everything for the family and took leave of this world to a massive heart attack which could not be deciphered until after his death. That was common among the poor people of the earlier period as they all had first back pain, then chest pain, followed by pain in the shoulders and hands and again severe chest pain followed by death. No body ever checked what was the pain and it was considerd below decorum to say 'I feel pain' and true to his greatness, he never said it. Our children gave us their love throuogh and through and that made our lives worth. But as time went by and as the children grew into bigger people and acquired their own little families, their love, we doubted, started to be come slightly less, or less and less, which was a feeling which made us think, living in this world is almostg enough. Then was the time, the love of Jesus, St. Mary and Joseph, that loving Holy Family started giving me their love which was slowly replacing the love from my children. I am breathless now. I can't write too much now, but shall continue later.

The village city centre..The Angadi..!

The national high way is a small constriction at the Angaadi entry area when it enters from the south passing the 'Sathram' a place for all the poor on the right. The sathram had been far back during the time of the Maharajas who were very kind to their subjects. They also made several Stone blocks on head high pedestals for helping the head load carriers to unload their heavy loads which they carried on their heads in olden days, so that they could rest a while and then proceed on their long walks. Those were the times of old. The 'athani's are long gone. The sathram was there upto thirty years back which is now gone. No body knows of the disappearance of such things. They just disappear in time. The entry is constricted by the old buildings with tile roofs on both sides and the little box shops attached to them. The drivers of buses and hig vehicles have to be careful not to take away the tiles from the little box shop. The drivers were experts, so such incidents were rare and the vehicles were always careful in road crossings.

Once it passed the central lamp post, the buses stopped on the left to help passengers to alight and to enter. On the same side was a large grocery shop which had a huge verandah which allowed everybody to wait there while they awaited their buses. This was the old style when the shop owners considered their customers as well as those who passed the place greatly and honourably. (Not any , now no shop owners considers the passers by, the whole area volume is considered and kept for the shop with glass coverings or such other new kind of trappings and people other than those exactly came to individual shops are kept out by all means).

On one side was a cobbler who polished the foot wear and made leather chappals and shoes in his spare time. He also did assorted other works as mending old foot wear and ladies bags. Gents in those days never carried any bags. Only elderly, only some of them, carried a leather purse which was local made. He made that too, with a long leather binding tag.

The cobbler sat with his cobblers box full of instruments and his twine and pins, nails and top pins, leather and other attachments for various items he made or repaired. He sat near the dirty waste canal and suffered the stench. Luckily he was unaware of the stench or he had no other go. I never asked him. No body else, I knew, did. Every body thought it is his way of finding his livelyhood and all liked him to be there as it was very convenient to find him just before getting into the bus or when one is in the angaadi (the market, as it was known then) (The word shopping complex etc. were unhead of in those days).

Once in a while I got my leather footwear polished by him and it was a real jolly thing to see him doing it. First rubbing out the dust with his sharp brush. Then applying polish and some kind of while cream on the leather portions. Applying another sharp brush on the cream and polish. Once that was over he applied another smooth brush and then put the two chappals at my feet and looked at me for his little charge for polishing it. It was fifty paise in those days. Several such polishings and a few pairs of chappals or shoes which he made and sold made his day. That was his simple way of living.

Slowly the ready made shoes and chappals started coming in the large town of Trichur nearby and the shops displaying them always attracted the young to it which made the old people ruminate sadly that the 'The old cobbler's time is about to end, he, now, will have to find some other job'.

This proved true before long, and now the village cobbler is gone. The grocery shop gave place to many to use its verandah transformed into a 'super market' and lost the verandah. The bus stop itself moved a furlong further due to extreme traffic congestion. It is now after the cuppola. The cuppola itself has its own history. As the chief diety of the local church is venerated here. He is angel, St. Raphael, the protector and co-traveller of passengers who called on him.

The shoe shops of the Trichur Town, which is the big city grew in style and fashion! And that was the end of an era...!

The Hair Cut....!

The Hair Cut..!

On a free day in Chennai, Rajan and Babu, father and son went for a hair cut. It was a hair cut for Rajan only, but Babu, his son was taking him. This ceremony was old time's sake. There were times they went for a hair cut in the Delhi's Lodi Colony, Meher Chand Market to the Sarojini Nagar's Pillanji, all taken as a leisure trip to talk and be together.

At Lodi Colony of Delhi and the Pillanji of Sarojini Nagar, Rajan used to pay, but now in the Chennai shop, it was Babu's turn to pay. There was not much of a ceremony in any of the places for hair cuts, which is usually called by the people of the places as simply 'Cutting'. It is customary for male members to go for cutting on holidays if the hair has become too much. Ladies in their society never had that necessity of going for cutting, as long hair is always considered to be a lady's charm.

Both Rajan and Babu walked in the hot sun to traverse the half kilometer to the shop on the main highway where among a cluster of shops was the little Hair cutting shop wth a huge painted sign “K K PROPERTIES”. The sign board did not mean any thing as far as the work in the shop is concerned, as this was a people oriented work where only the nearby residents came by searching for the particular shop where it was available, regardless of the board.

The chairs were old but good and the humble professional at the knife was very inviting as it is, in all small shops. Getting inside the shop was great as there was shade in the shop.Coming from the scorching sun outside, it will soothe one like air conditioning. A small overhead fan will cool you down. The barber wished Rajan and Babu and showed Rajan to the empty revolving chair with its high pedestal and foot pedal. There was only one cutter available and hence it was Rajan in the chair first. Saravanan, the cutter straight away went work with his scissors ly and silently. Babu, the son paid for the cut once the cut was over and said he did not need a cut. There was a few times, Rajan remembered that he and his son used to get a cut together. Now, that is being changed. Only Rajan needed a cut, not his son as he had it sometime recently only.

Rajan was lost in thought. When he was young, he used to take Babu a little boy, in those days, for the cut. Then only he had to have the cut and they went together to he cutting shop on Sundays as that was when Rajan was free. Then time went on and they started to be company as his son was growing up. They spoke of umpteen number of things under the sun and going to and from the hair cut shops both in Lodi Colony and Sarojini Nagar.

Then their hair cutting sessions together started repeating in Chennai where they went together for the heck of it. Both could go individually and pay for it, but they enjoyed the company of each other and remembered old times while they could also discuss other interesting family asides. Rajan thought, time is passing too quickly and only he needs the hair cut. The old role has been completely reversed. Now the son is taking the father for a hair cut....!A great drama in time..!

Nostalgia - The power of the little V.I.P.

Nostalgia - The power of the little V.I.P.

When my son was growing up from infancy our main occupation was to play with him and tell him stories and sing lullabies to him whenever he wanted. I could attend to him mostly on the week-ends and evenings. He used to be a great self in asking questions which I could never imagine, from “Why is the moon always up there?, Why can't we go to the moon?, Will it ever come down so that we don't have to go there and so on. When it came to the story of the King and the Lion in which the Lion tries to attack the King and the King suddenly turns and cuts the Lion into two etc. He was curious how did the Lion enter the Palace Garden? Many of my little answers satisfied him and he was appeased. He was only agitated if I went to sleep in between the narration. Then he will sit on my chest and keep asking me “Phir kya hua?” meaning “Then what happened” and will pull my chin. Many a time I got the tether and continued but sometimes when sleep was to heavy, I mixed up and started with “Then the rabbit started running” which at times sent him into laughter and he exclaimed: “There is no rabbit in the Palace Garden, it is the Lion which has to come”. This brought me awake and I repaired the story to the usual King and the Lion. All that has now become old stories and my son has forgotten some of them, like me too! But at times the thoughts recour.

Now my son is grown up and married and he was arriving with his wife and toddler son. The little bundle clung on to me after throwing a beaming smile at me as soon as we met at the Station. He threw the smile with such gusto and intent, for a one year old, I could not resist the feeling of old times and take him in my arms. I thought he was just jumping on to me because I showed my hands, but soon I understood, the real reason. He was set upon taking my spectacles as a little toy and that was the reason for the beautiful enchanting smile. Once on me he straight went to pick up my spectacles and started playing with it, trying different ways of holding it and ultimately holding it on one of its arms and turning it like a fan. I kept of telling him that this was not to be done but he never cared or seemed to understand my point! He kept on turning the spectacles on one of its handles and ultimately my son had to come and pick it up from him which irritated me and the little infant boy alike. I said that he would have been more polite to the little kid and he told me that that way you will normally not get the spectacles back from him in proper form as there is a little engineer in him who will go to work on the spectacles after a while, when the spectacles will be dismantled part by part!

Once the spectacles was rempoved he quickly forgot that part and started enjoying the scenery on the way where the moving vehicles and their horns were a god attraction. In between he lost interest in me and started beaming his little cute smile at my wife and slowly went over to her and started playing with her ear rings and the flowers on her saree. Soon he was to lose interest in all that as the temperature was rising as the day was becoming hot and he once again threw his great smile at his mom who took him in her arms and started giving him milk from his milke bottle. Soon he was asleep on her lap.

Once home and the car stopped he woke up and surveyed the scenario and slowly with sleepy eyes was trying to smile at me and it was time for me to pick him up and thereafter the whole set of cycle repeated it self. Many a time I played with him and at times he came to play with me or make me play. The surprising part was that he got most of his needs by a disarming smile..! He never said anything as he is yet to speak in full syllables, but his smile caught on to every body with whom he came in contact in the near relations and they soon thought out what he may be needing and did it for him. When we think of it, it is marvellous for a little toddler, isn't it?

In between my son came along from his computer works when he wanted a piece of wire or a plug point or some such things he needed in his work and seeing us at play he remarked: “You to make a good company!”

I smiled at him along with the little guy ...! (Thinking...far back he was good company with me..now he has become very serious..!)

Nostalgia - The power of the little V.I.P.

When my son was growing up from infancy our main occupation was to play with him and tell him stories and sing lullabies to him whenever he wanted. I could attend to him mostly on the week-ends and evenings. He used to be a great self in asking questions which I could never imagine, from “Why is the moon always up there?, Why can't we go to the moon?, Will it ever come down so that we don't have to go there and so on. When it came to the story of the King and the Lion in which the Lion tries to attack the King and the King suddenly turns and cuts the Lion into two etc. He was curious how did the Lion enter the Palace Garden? Many of my little answers satisfied him and he was appeased. He was only agitated if I went to sleep in between the narration. Then he will sit on my chest and keep asking me “Phir kya hua?” meaning “Then what happened” and will pull my chin. Many a time I got the tether and continued but sometimes when sleep was to heavy, I mixed up and started with “Then the rabbit started running” which at times sent him into laughter and he exclaimed: “There is no rabbit in the Palace Garden, it is the Lion which has to come”. This brought me awake and I repaired the story to the usual King and the Lion. All that has now become old stories and my son has forgotten some of them, like me too! But at times the thoughts recour.

Now my son is grown up and married and he was arriving with his wife and toddler son. The little bundle clung on to me after throwing a beaming smile at me as soon as we met at the Station. He threw the smile with such gusto and intent, for a one year old, I could not resist the feeling of old times and take him in my arms. I thought he was just jumping on to me because I showed my hands, but soon I understood, the real reason. He was set upon taking my spectacles as a little toy and that was the reason for the beautiful enchanting smile. Once on me he straight went to pick up my spectacles and started playing with it, trying different ways of holding it and ultimately holding it on one of its arms and turning it like a fan. I kept of telling him that this was not to be done but he never cared or seemed to understand my point! He kept on turning the spectacles on one of its handles and ultimately my son had to come and pick it up from him which irritated me and the little infant boy alike. I said that he would have been more polite to the little kid and he told me that that way you will normally not get the spectacles back from him in proper form as there is a little engineer in him who will go to work on the spectacles after a while, when the spectacles will be dismantled part by part!

Once the spectacles was rempoved he quickly forgot that part and started enjoying the scenery on the way where the moving vehicles and their horns were a god attraction. In between he lost interest in me and started beaming his little cute smile at my wife and slowly went over to her and started playing with her ear rings and the flowers on her saree. Soon he was to lose interest in all that as the temperature was rising as the day was becoming hot and he once again threw his great smile at his mom who took him in her arms and started giving him milk from his milke bottle. Soon he was asleep on her lap.

Once home and the car stopped he woke up and surveyed the scenario and slowly with sleepy eyes was trying to smile at me and it was time for me to pick him up and thereafter the whole set of cycle repeated it self. Many a time I played with him and at times he came to play with me or make me play. The surprising part was that he got most of his needs by a disarming smile..! He never said anything as he is yet to speak in full syllables, but his smile caught on to every body with whom he came in contact in the near relations and they soon thought out what he may be needing and did it for him. When we think of it, it is marvellous for a little toddler, isn't it?

In between my son came along from his computer works when he wanted a piece of wire or a plug point or some such things he needed in his work and seeing us at play he remarked: “You to make a good company!”

I smiled at him along with the little guy ...! (Thinking...far back he was good company....now he has become very serious..!)