Author: shivam

The moment I heard that Kavitha’s wedding didn’t last even 24 hours, I rushed to meet her, without wasting time even to put on a shirt.

When I reached her home, in the next street, her father Vembhu was settling the accounts of Usmaan, the flowers and garlands supplier.

‘Kavithaaaa’, I entered the hall sobbing and placing my thothumundu, (small towel on my shoulder) to wipe off the tears as and when formed. She was arguing with her mother about a ‘#MeToo’ report of a cook, Thankam. Though she mentioned the cook’s name more than once, and meaningfully gazed at me, I thought that was not the time to worry whether Thankam had served us anytime in the past. There are many cooks in the world by the name Thankam and why should I worry about any of them?

‘What happened uncle?’, enquired the sweet girl, ‘dust entered the eye?’

‘No, my child. My agony is trying to emerge in the form of tears’

‘Agony? Did you overpay a rupee to the vegetable vendor?’ That was her mother, who too buy vegetables from the same supplier.

‘No. My heart bursted when I heard that Kavitha’s marriage didn’t last even the first night. I expected you all in a sorrowful mood, but you are, thankfully, in high spirits’

‘In high spirits’, the desperate dad intervened,
‘ I am yet to settle the account of some of the service providers but my daughter is back home with the shocking news of the marriage – break’. Vembhu, like me, was almost in tears.

‘What is shocking about it?’, questioned his wife, ‘is this the first marriage – break in the season ?’

‘And you know, SP, the reason?’, asked my friend.

‘I’m anxious to know’. I responded.

‘Why you’re anxious?’ That was again Mrs. Shambhu. ‘Is Kavitha your daughter?’

‘Is she?’. I returned the question to her. ‘You should know better’.

She got up from her seat and shouted,
‘is there no one in this house to show this gentleman the way to our exit gate?’

‘Cool please, all of you’, pacified Kavitha.

‘Uncle I will tell you the reason. The cots in the hotel room were laid North to South direction. Kish said, it was not auspicious to lie that way. Head should never face North. He cited a slokam too, in support of his belief’

‘Oh, I know that slokam. ‘Venam kizhakkottu—‘, I offered to recite the four-liner of pure wisdom.

‘Stop it, SP’, screamed Shambhu. ‘Is it the time to exhibit your scholarship?’

‘But, Kavitha, you could have asked the hotel boys to adjust the cots and beds, as per his choice’, I suggested to Kavitha. ‘Should such a silly reason be the cause for the rupture of your wedding?’. I have a knack of asking good questions, which Ammalu used to praise.

‘Uncle there lies the difference between the thinkings of old and new generation people’, Kavitha clarified without any emotion on her face. ‘Had I surrendered my views just to save the night, I will be sacrificing my views, thoughts and rights allowing his stupid ideas to rule me throughout my life’

‘But, still my child, as an intelligent girl, you could have somehow solved that small issue and saved your marriage’.

Kavitha didn’t answer. Her mother did.

‘The only solution would have been for my daughter to allow Kish to lie on the bed with his head towards the direction of his choice, though may not be in alliance with my daughter’s. But, they were in the hotel for their honey moon and not for drawing a ‘T’ design on the bed’. She laughed mildly, enjoying her own joke.

‘’That ‘T’ formation would have, perhaps saved a marriage’, I wanted to ask her, but didn’t. A man of my age should be careful in discussing such topics with women.

Soon after reaching home, however, I wanted to talk about the topic with Ammalu but, hesitated. Instead, I asked her, ‘Ammalu, can I ask you a fundamental question about the first wedding night ?’
As I mentioned earlier, I have my own way of asking questions which my wife admires.

‘I forgot about our first night long ago,’ she replied, carelessly.

‘I don’t want to discuss about our first night’

‘Then, about someone else’s first night? You ask always foolish questions, but never before, once did you ask such an utterly foolish one, as the present one. Wonder what is happening to you, SP!’

She dampened my enthusiasm of asking my next question about the #MeToo madam. But, Ammalu, the super clever woman she is, guessed my question from my face and replied,
‘don’t worry. We never had a cook, Thankam by name.

In the file picture below from Boston, my brother in law Patchu wondering whether I really have any spiritual powers as I claim to have or I’m another Bogus Muni.

Drizzling. Roads are wet, marshy. With a handbag on shoulder, I went to buy vegetable from the Friday market in the Sai temple complex, close to our house. My steps were unsteady, but not my mind. What will happen if my children happen to see me now, I thought. They never allowed me to go alone, even for an evening stroll inside our colony.

Scene changes

Olavakkode Padathu elementary school.

Walking to school through the narrow marshy path dividing two paddy fields. The school itself is in the midst of paddy fields. Rainy season is fully enjoyable. We jump into the fields, splash muddy water on each other, get scolding from HM Pankunni Menon and from Appa too, when back home.

Back to Habsiguda

Forgot my age and wanted to flash rain water stagnated , on the face of a lady fashionably dressed, going to the adjacent Sai Baba Temple. Try to lift my right leg. It pains. Realize that is the problematic leg and I should not play with it. I lift my left leg. The lady looks at my raised leg and stares at me.

Not safe. I should be careful with fashionable ladies.
I withdraw, honorably.

Scene changes

Going to High school by walk, through the old bridge near the Olavakkode Commonwealth Tile works, as the Kalpathy river is flowing in full force. Venu and another boy is with me. The ottucompany or Tile Works manager’s daughter is going to school in a kuthira vandi, or horse -drawn cart and we are following the cart. We are happy to follow the cart. She looks at us. I thin she is looking at me. Venu thinks she is looking at him. We both are happy for our own reason. The third guy is a manukku, a dull fellow. She won’t look at him. We are happy again.

Back to Habsiguda

Due to rain, the vendors come late to the market and are just unloading the vegetables from their carts. Have to wait in the rains or go back home and ask someone to get vegetables, later. Going back without finishing the job is not in my practice. I wait. Rain increases . I go inside the Sai baba temple.

The fashion lady comes out, after finishing her worship.

‘Kaal noppi ettila undhi, thatha?’, she enquires – Thatha, how is your leg pain? I woke up to the situation. I’m a thatha, old man and not an elementary or high school student. Very bad. I stare at Sai baba. No expression on his face. ‘Baba, I’m a thatha, you are a thatha’, I tell Him. He deserves it for keeping mum.

I see only old people everywhere. All the vegetable sellers are old, buyers are old, the temple visitors are all old, the poojai is old.
The fashion lady has spoiled my mood by calling me thatha. Is she taking revenge on me for my attempt to splash muddy water on her sari?

‘I can drop you at your home’, she offers a lift in her car.

Politely, I reject. I start walking back home. My dreams have totally ebbed away.. I’m an old man, limping back home and not the enthusiasm overflowing elementary school student or a high school student running behind a kuthiravandi carrying a girl wearing pavada, davani.

I enter home. Vicha in a chair, near the entrance, placing his bandaged leg on a stool.

He doesn’t bother to enquire how I managed to negotiate the rains as well as the marshy roads with an unhelpful leg and carrying a bag-full of vegetable. My children in USA would have come running to me anxiously and bombarded me with affectionate, hearty enquirers about my travail and also mildly admonished me for venturing to go out alone, disobeying their instructions.

Vicha, looks at me. He wanted to say something. I wait. He says, ‘ nalla mazhai! Chudukkanae oru kappi kedachal jorai irukkum’ – excellent rains. Will appreciate if I can get a cup of hot coffee’

I look at him. He is not an old man nearing 80, but a child of eight years or even less. I didn’t come all the way from USA , at the cost of their displeasure to shout at this eight year old child, who is worried only about his kappi and not about my discomforts.
I look at Vicha again. I see only the innocence of a child and not the apathy of an old man at my discomforts, which I’m undergoing solely for his sake.

I’m no more an old man. That fashion lady has no idea about my age. If my younger brother is 8 years old, I’m just 10 years.
I look around. There are no old and disabled men or women anywhere in my neighborhood. And at my central hall, wah ! My children and my sister’s children all are playing. My sisters, their husbands, other relatives all smart and young, enthusiasm bubbling and overflowing all around are moving around. Anantha Jyothy is ever young.

Vicha anxiously gaze at my face wondering what happened to his kappi request. Why am I standing like a statue.

‘Anna, kappi!’. He repeats his request.
I wake up from my dream state. The hall is empty, but not my heart, which is full of compassion for my disabled sibling.

‘Give me five minutes, Vicha’. I tell him and move towards the kitchen

In the file picture, my siblings Vicha and Meena
when Megh visited Anantha
Jyothy a couple of years before.A

Life should have a purpose, other than eating and sleeping. (I’m not underestimating the role of eating and sleeping , which are the basic needs).
In USA , my sons and their wives, my daughter and her husband, treated me like a VIP guest in a 5 star hotel. But, I was living there for myself as in no way, I was useful to them. One should live for others too, whatever be the age, provided he is not bedridden. Had my wife been alive, she would have been useful to our children. I can’t drive their cars and if I touch the steering wheel, the vehicle will turn to a
Pushoakavimanam and fly up! I did babysitting for a few seconds and she started yelling as if I was there to kidnap her!

This was how I started teaching Shreya- aswathy, bharani—-! Do you think a girl born in USA going to pre-school will like my coaching. But she was so good that she learnt not only the names of stars but many more Malayalam words.

‘You have done enough for the family, dad. It is our turn now, to look after you’, was my children’s approach, when I offered my services . Good children. May they live long happily! I wanted to have more children, but my wife was not prepared. If I could do on my own, I would have created not less than a dozen kids.

Man wishes, wife disposes !

As if to compensate my lethargic life in USA, God has created an opportunity to serve a disabled, my younger brother Vicha. I get much satisfaction while serving food for my brother, when I thankfully recall Megh prompting me a dozen times, to come to the table, not food kept ready on the table.

Vicha enjoys good food, typical Kerala type. Pappadam is a must. No need to fry it. Chutta pappadam, roasted in the flame would do. That too just one piece. He enjoys good filter coffee.
‘Anna, kappi konjam koodae irukku? Some more coffee available ?

‘People from Palakkad can’t enjoy their meal without pappadam ‘, he tells Lakshmi, our cook, who is from Hyderabad. But his trade mark is, chukku vellam or medicated warm water or even plain warm water. The moment he sits for food he asks for that and before going to bed too, a vessel full of water has to be kept near him. I believe that it is perhaps his sumptuous water consumption that has saved his kidneys getting damaged, despite his high blood sugar, many a time. And it could be his long walks during his young days that keeps his knees trim now. But diabetes has affected his eye sight badly, though not all that badly when he watches through the corner of an eye which woman comes in and what is her business with me!
‘Antha stree aaru- who is that woman, who came in now?’
is his standard question.

We can’t choose our siblings and that one reason alone shows their importance for us. Considering my own unsatisfactory health my children didn’t accept my option to come to India, but I had to convince them how I’m left with no option but to come here to help my brother. I hope that God maintains my health too while improving my brother’s health. He should and He will, I know.

And in this hall, which was like a kalyanamandapam for many years, where my wife moved silently, where my children grew, one by one and all together, where many happy celebrations took place , today we two old siblings are living and I can say living happily despite a defect in our lower limbs. It is a big consolation, still our legs exist though with a defect. It is a bliss that our body exists and if the body exists, in a fairly usable condition, what’s there to worry with a brother nearby to keep a close watch on me?

Happy journey back to Baltimore, my son Srikanth.

Had you not escorted me back to India, despite your busy schedule, keeping a watch of my every foot-movement, it would have been a nightmare for me, though I boasted to Megh that I’m fit to join the Mansarovar Yatries.

Without taking rest for a day, soon after coming home, you cleared the mess our house was in and reset and made it fit to live with all comforts. You made even arrangements with your friends for our emergency support. Recall the message of one of your college mates-‘let your dad give a ring. I have a Vanarasena at Habsiguda who will reach in no time for his help’
Tell Atchuth that it was good that he bought the air ticket ignoring my threat that I would travel ‘kallavandi’ (ticketkess) , had you guys were not prepared to sent me back to India.

Tell your siblings that I’m so relaxed and comfortable in Anantha Jyothy that I have started busy solving Sudoko as well as the family quarrels of neighbors.

A word to Aparna. Ideal ambience for practicing my singing here. When I sang a Bhairavi in uchsthai, Vicha thought I was practicing a new mouth exercise to heal my knee pain. His hearing aids are indeed in good health.

Have real fun here and Appa is enjoying Habsiguda life and Vicha’s company multiplies the joy.

All the best my children!

‘Mee intilu pedda pamotchinthi’ – a big snake was seen in your house, complained my neighbor, the day I returned from USA. I was not surprised, as I could see the premises looked so bushy and messy. She also mentioned that the fat lady, with cell phone in her hand always was separated from her drunkard husband. That was a surprise for me, as she was the mother of two grown up boys. A too -late divorce, I thought.

The next morning, when I came out, a lady wished me and enquired about my welfare. I looked at her face, then at her center portion, when she exclaimed,
‘Eami sar maritchupoyara.?’ You forgot me.? I used to collect flowers for pooja every morning from your garden before you wake up’

‘sorry madam, you have totally changed for better. You look now slim and young too; hence I could not recognize you’ . She was full of smiles not only on the face but on the central and lower portion too.

‘Happy that you continue to be here as my neighbor pleasing your gods with the flowers from my garden. Was sad when I was told that you were separated from your husband’.

Was it correct on my part to have mentioned about her separation?’ I worried.

But she was all in smiles, not only on the face —-——

And her reply was exhilarating.

‘Ettilanadi, how can I leave such a loving husband, though he has some minor vices, unworthy of his age and official position. What is wrong if he drinks a peg of whisky after a day’s hard work? What is wrong if he gives me a kick or two as I’m his own and only wife? I call it love! I will never leave my husband. Did Mandodari discard Ravana ? ‘

I kept quiet. When women talk in terms of love of their husband, I keep mum.

But, at the same time, I wondered why the first lady gave me a wrong information. I called her( I have the contact number of all good ladies in the neighborhood)

‘Doctor, your information about the boozer neighbor’s wife was wrong. I saw her a few minutes ago before her house ‘

‘Subramaniam garu, she showed me yesterday a copy of her divorce papers and said she would never look at her husband’s face again . What happened at night, I don’t know’

‘I know what happened at night, Doctor, love, pure love’. As a marriage expert, I gave my valuable opinion.

‘Lovuu lethu, kuvvu lethu. Pension Sir, Pension’, She was categorical in her statement.
‘Her husband will retire in a few months and will be eligible for a huge amount as retirement benefits and his monthly pension too will be good. And due to his vices, if the call from the Top takes place soon, the lady will be eligible for a family pension, which too will be attractive. Having tolerated him all these years, why lose him now along with many benefits, she would have thought and decided not to proceed with the divorce case. I know ladies’ mind much better than you’.

I didn’t say a word!

Habsiguda life is amazing, indeed.!