Sometimes, we can do nothing but wait. Depending on the result anticipated, that wait becomes joyful, fearful or suspense – soaked. The result could also be much against our anticipation, as it happened in my case when I sent a love letter to my girl friend (not now, as I have become wiser, but long ago when I was a boy!).
Within a few seconds after the letter was handed over by my courier, neighbor Appukuttan of 4th standard, I cursed, myself, ” che, is this the way to write a letter to a lover? Is there in it a single poetic flow or a flower of flattery? ”
I wanted to re-write it.
“Monae, get that letter back,” I requested Appukuttan, ‘‘run like a hare”. He did that. Ran like a hare and reached the destination within half a minute. My heart was playing idakka. Idakka, as you know, is a small drum used in Guruvayoor and other Sree Krishna temples, generating melodious soft beats, sweet to the ears. Had I any doubt in my mind that my girlfriend (for convenience sake, let us call her Ammu), would shout at the courier, my heart would have been beating like a chendai. You know chendai, again is a percussion instrument, pounded left and right with hard sticks, produces big sounds.
Anyway, when Appukuttan approached, Ammu was making dosai on a kummutty. Kummutty again, as you know, is a small coal-oven, used in olden days, to provide uniform heat, as is required in dosai preparation.
“Chetchi, chettan wants that letter back”, submitted my little friend.
“Which letter?” asked the innocent girl, wide-opening her small mouth and big eyes. Her mouth was small then but would have become large later).
”That paper I gave you a short while ago” clarified the innocent messenger.
“Oh, I used it for wiping the dosakal” replied the girl with small mouth and big eyes. Dosakal again, as you know, is the iron tawa or thick plate on which the dosai is made.
We didn’t have non-sticking griddles those days for making dosai. The iron pans, preferably thick ones as those from Chenkottai were considered to be the ideal ones, because of their higher heat-retaining capacity.
I don’t know whether Ammu was using a Chenkotttai pan or some ordinary brand. But that matters little. She didn’t have a non-sticking one.
Were non-sticking pans available then, she would have given back my letter and I would have poured all my skills to ornament it.
As you know, certain things are not in our hands.