He
felt a sudden need to scratch his foot – must be a mosquito. Without opening
his eyes, he reached for his toes, scratched it and turned on the bed.
‘Oru maathrayenkilum kelkaathe vayyan nin Murali
pozhikkunna gaanalaapam…’****
He
heard K J Yesudas singing in his home. Amma
had switched on their tape recorder, and it was belting out her favourite devotional
songs. It was that time of the day when M S Subbulakshmi, P Leela, K S Chitra
and other maestros performed for them. Amma
never failed to play the cassettes in the morning – it was one of her ‘things’.
The tapes were worn, and at times Yesudas sounded muffled or the songs dragged
a bit, but that ritual never changed. It also meant she was done with her
morning puja and she had moved onto
her kingdom – the kitchen.
He
felt someone gently shaking his shoulders. “Wake up Kanna…don’t you have to go to school…” It was Ammamma’s voice. She bent and gently kissed on his cheek and
ruffled his hair. His Ammamma smelt
of Chandrika soap, Cuticura talcum powder and incense sticks in the morning. He
always associated her with purity – his Ammamma
in the white mundum veshti, fresh
like morning dew. He refused to open his eyes. Ammamma shook him gently again, amidst her ‘Rama, Rama’ chants. He heard a creaking noise, and felt the
diffused sunlight on his face. Ammamma
had pushed opened the wooden windows. He felt the morning chill, despite being
under a blanket. He rolled himself into a ball. She left and he fell back into
sleep.
He
woke up with a start, to realize he had been whacked on his behind. “Get up,
lazy bum!” It was Rukmini. He waved his arm to retaliate, but he heard her anklets
as she left the room. “Look Amma,
Appu’s still sleeping! Why is it that he gets to sleep till seven and I have to
wake up at five in the morning?!” He heard her complain loudly. “He doesn’t
have to write his 10th standard public examination this March. He’s
only six years old, Rukku – let him sleep longer. Why don’t you act your age
and stop whining...” He heard his Amma
from the kitchen. He smiled.
He then
heard the sounds of a broom at work; must be Chechi sweeping the courtyard, after which she’d have to get ready
for school. He opened his eyes and looked at the walls. Today, the damp patches
had created a new set of designs for his pleasure. One looked like an elephant
to him. He kept staring to see what else would emerge. “Kanna, wake up now…you
will get late” He heard Amma calling from
the kitchen. He decided it was time and got out of bed. He walked out and saw Appa sitting at the table, across the nadumuttam. He went to the kitchen, and
saw Amma at work on the stove. The idlis, sambar and chutney she made for breakfast was placed on the counter. She was
busy preparing Appa’s lunch. The
smell of coffee came wafting out. He took a deep breathe in. He liked the smell
of coffee.
Amma’s back was wet from the
water dripping from her hair. It looked as if she had stepped right out of the bath.
He saw that it made damp patches on the back of her blouse; just like the ones
he saw on the walls. There was a small strand of mullapoo in her hair. Whenever the jasmine hedges in the courtyard
produced some buds, Amma would make a
strand for the Gods and a small one for herself. He liked seeing flowers on Amma’s hair. She turned around, and saw
him standing at the door. “Ahaaa…Kannan is up? Now be a
good boy and brush your teeth. Amma
will come by the time you’re done and Amma
will help you get ready for school” He nodded as he smiled. He kept walking
till he reached the table. Appa was
reading the morning newspaper. He was waiting for his breakfast and coffee. He
put his paper down, and smiled at him. He smiled back.
Appa left early in the mornings
for work, because he had to catch a bus and a train to reach the bank. Some
days, he doesn’t see him leave. As he looked at Appa, he realized that Appa’s
face looked tired and old. Was it that he hadn’t he noticed it before? The
lines on his face, the increasingly greying hair…his friends’ Appa looked young, but his Appa….
Amma served breakfast and Appa was having it quickly. He walked out
to the verandah. He heard Amma and Appa talk about money for the maid, some
books or guides for Chechi and
medicines for Ammamma. He looked at
the sky. It looked as if it would rain. He didn’t want it to rain today – at least
not during the short break. He wanted to play outside, as it was becoming
increasingly rare to do that, thanks to the monsoons. Appa took his black grandfather umbrella, tucked the small leather
bag under his arm, took the lunch bag and left.
*****
“Get
up Kanna…do you want to go to school today? Feeling better?” It was Ammamma. He rubbed his eyes while
opening it; it hurt these days, with all the crying he did. He looked at Ammamma. She still looked miserable;
like yesterday. She didn’t wait for a response and left the room. These days, he
hardly slept well. He tossed and turned before he could sleep and anything
could startle him awake. He stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know what to do
with this onslaught of emotions he felt; it always felt the worst on waking up.
He
got out of bed, and walked out. There was no music, like before. Chechi was seated on the ground, leaning
onto a pillar of the nadumuttam and
staring intently at the ground, like she was lost in thoughts. He saw a silent
tear run down her cheek. He looked around for Amma. She was seated on the table. He could see that her eyes were
red and puffy from constant crying. Tears were silently streaming down her
face. She had given up on wiping that steady stream. He looked helplessly at Ammamma – it appeared she was busy
trying to attain peace of mind through prayers. She had her eyes shut tightly,
forming furrows on her aged and crinkled forehead. She was chanting prayers
under her breath.
He looked at the three of them, one by one. He then looked up
at Appa’s photo. Amma had replaced yesterday’s garland, with a fresh string of
jasmine today. He looked at Appa
smiling in the photo. And he felt something tug at his heart – how could Appa smile when all of them were crying
for him?
He
went back to bed and curled himself. He shut his eyes. He should get back to
sleep. Things would perhaps get back to normal, when he would wake up next time.
****
For
non-Malayalis, here’s the meaning/explanation for some of the words I’ve used –
****Famous
Devotional Song of Lord Guruvayurappan, sung by K J Yesudas
Amma – Mother
Ammamma – Grandmother
Appa – Father
Mundum veshti –
the two-piece clothing, draped/worn like a saree (or a half-saree) by Malayali
women
Chechi – Elder sister
Nadumuttam – the inner/central
courtyard or quadrangle (a traditional architectural element of olden days)
Mullapoo – Jasmine flowers
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I know, it's been really long - like really long, since I've updated this blog. I wonder if anyone who used to read me before even remember me now! If you do, say 'hello'! Maybe more on my absence on blogs in a later post. How are you all doing? I've been infrequently catching upon the blogs in my Reading list. Good to know you'll are still writing.
