Abraham Lincoln, Gandhiji, and Kochappan.

'' I have done nothing to make any human being remember that I have lived. yet what I wish to live for is to connect my name with the events of my day and generation, to link my name with something which will be of interest to my fellow men.''

Abraham Lincoln ( 1809-1865 )

Kochappan used to quote this frequently, saying that the purpose of his life is also the same; to provide something of interest to his fellow men.

Steven Spielberg's movie "The Close Encounters of the Third kind" gives you an audio visual idea of three encounters with the UFOs (Un identified Flying Objects).

'Heard but never seen.'
'Heard and seen', and
'Coming in actual contact with the object'

Having had the fortune of having the close encounter of the third kind with Kochappan I have been at the receiving end of matters of interest from him.

Let me relate to you and provide you with some of them.

I sent him a mail of ' Heartfelt Congratulations' on his receiving 35th Anniversary Commemorative Award for Management Services from the ICRISAT, a UN organisation, at Sri Lanka two days back.

In reply, instead of thanking me for the message, he corrected my English and mentioned that
though 'Heartfelt' means sincere, it's normally used with sadness like 'Heartfelt' condolences,
and that I should have used the word 'Hearty' if I meant what I sent. This is what he wants to
provide people during his life time.

Many a time in my life have I got such invaluable guidance from him, a few of them I would like to relate to less fortunate people like you, who have not had the 3rd type of close encounter with him.

When I was infactuated with a young lass of surpassing beauty during my adolescence, he had warned me that though she is like 'pure snow' to look at she has a tendency to drift like snow, and that if she drifts like what she was doing then, she would end up like the 'Indian Railway' ; laid right across the country.

Once when I used the expression, 'I want to have the cake and eat it too', he admonished me by saying that I should have said 'I want to eat the cake and have it too' to mean what I really meant.

When I reminded him to put his 'best foot forward' when he was entering his newly built flat
at Hyderabad he asked me sarcastically whether he had the option of 'good' and 'better' foot to choose! Such is his brilliance!

In another occasion while travelling long distance by train he asked me ''If a turtle loses it's shell
is it naked or homeless?'' Another occasion when we were in his car he asked why one gets
'in' and 'out' of a car but gets 'on' and 'off' a bus. Questions of sheer brilliance which made me think.

He advised me not to 'assume' things in life because it will make an 'ass' of 'u' and 'me'.

To impress upon me the necessity to know about great people and their lives he used ask me questions about them. One late evening,while sitting and sipping a cup of tea in his balcony he asked whether I knew what one leg of Marilyn Monroe say to the other when she was dead and laid in the coffin. I couldn't give the answer. '' At last we are together''. He gave the answer himself.
'' Between you and me we have made lot of money'' ; before being buried, at the end of a long journey of life, that was what one leg of Marilyn in it's last conversation to other said; with a sigh of relief.''These might sound a bit lewd, indecent. But see the construction of the sentences
and the clarity of expression'' .He added.
Profound knowledge; that was what he was parting with .

He taught me that 'History' is about past and I need not say 'Past history', that I need not 'lift up' (because I cannot lift anything down) nor 'raise it up', he doesn't like getting 'free gifts' and 'advance warning' and that I should not ' mix things together' and that he won't 'repeat again' these lessons.

While on the topic of history he told me that they were called 'Romans' , because those people had the habit of roaming around.

I can go on with examples of his attempts to be of use to people. The one such saying of his which I still remember is the one he told me on the day of my marriage.

''Aniyan, a happiness of life is having a loving,caring, and close knit family; in another city''

That could be the reason why he goes on frequent tours to cities of Syria, Africa and SriLanka.

Like Gandhiji he practises what he preaches. Such is his greatness !!!

menon ( aniyan )

Paris Hilton and the elephants of Meghalaya.

'' Conservationists on Tuesday hailed the socialite Paris Hilton, who has been convicted of driving under the influence of alcohol, for trying to highlight the cause of 'Rice Beer' drinking elephants in the northeast.'' I read the news headline and had a genuine doubt.

We, Menons, by tradition, donot like carrying doubts in our respective minds for too long. It's unnecessary; carrying doubts and walking around; esp when brilliant people like Kochappan is up and around.

I asked him ''Doesn't the head line suggest that Paris Hilton was driving around in drunken state and got arrested to highlight the plight of the elephants.?''

Kochappan looked at me. Lord Parama Shiva is the only other known person to have a look like that, which I presume, can make the receiving end burn and turn ash in colour. Ash colour we all know, is not associated with glamour or good looks of men.

''You idiot'' he said thus.'' The Hindu paper head lines are written by world class journalists. If you can't understand good English keep quiet. Read it once gain and make sense.''

We were at the airport lounge waiting for the security check call. Kochapps was leaving for Syria.

I read the head line once again.Things didn't improve much.

What is Paris Hilton?. You might ask.Well I had made a mention about her in connection with the Pamela Anderson case. To recap, she is one of those actresses of Holly Wood who fills her sweaters well.Not to the level Pam Anders or Bipasha of Bollywood does but good enough to be in business.

''Read it and tell me more about that news?'' Kochappan was arranging some papers in his brief case.

'' The wild elephants of Assam, of late, have got into the habit of getting drunk on the farmers home made 'Rice Beer', and going on rampage destroying farms etc.This alcoholism among elephants of Meghalaya is growing and is causing concern among the conservationists and animal lovers.'' I summed up the story. ''Paris Hilton came to know of this alarming news when she was attending the fifth wedding of Pamela Anderson in New York. She left the function in a hurry ; concerned.

'' The elephants get drunk all the time. It is becoming really dangerous. we need to stop making alcohol available to them.'' She said to the World Entertainment News Network, the same evening.

'' Five elephants have died of Cirrhosis of liver and three more have been diagnosed for that''
a concerned Paris Hilt told press reporters on her arrival at the airport in Tokyo yesterday, on her way to Guwahati in India to study the problem.

'' We are happy that she ( Paris Hilt) has taken note of this incident and is coming to Guwahati to prevent elephants from consuming farmers home made Rice Beer and dying of Cirrhosis''
said Sangeeta Goswami, who heads Animal Rights Group of animals in India.

Soumyadeep Dutta of 'Natures Beckon' a conservationist group said that Elephant alcohol abuse is a real problem and it will get a boost by the visit of a person who is known in this field of
alcohol abuse.

On being asked by a correspondent about Pamela's expertise and credentials in this issue of alcohol abuse, Soumya in her deep voice replied '' Nobody from Hollywood can have more credentials and commitment in this matter than Paris Hilt.Like Mahatma Gandhi has courted
arrest and jail for the cause of freedom of India, Paris has been arrested and has spent time in jail for alcohol abuse.Such is her commitment to it.Jailed not once, but several times !'' .

I conveyed the news item to Kochappan thus; sat back had a sip of coffee and added my impressions about the news.'

'' An actress from Hollywood like Paris Hilt is concerned about the growing alcoholism of elephants of India.Has any body from Bollywood shown any concern ; Has Rani Mukherjee uttered a word about?. They have no patriotism.''

'' Why do you call her Paris Hilt.? Is she not Paris Hilton as you were mentioning earlier.?'' The genuineness of his doubt was apparent from his voice.

" That's how I call her affectionately''. I said decidedly.His jaw, the lower one, was about to fall but he managed to hold it. Some silken voice announced the security check. We stood up.

Then he asked me. ''Aniyan do you know the difference between tragedy and calamity?.''

Without waiting for my answer he said. ''The fact that I am leaving you now and will not be seeing you for over a month is a tragedy.But if the security check and the flight departure were to be delayed, then sitting here, and listening to you about Paris Hilt would have been a calamity''.
I knew that he was taking a dig at me. If you ask Kochappan ' What is it that you can put down without lifting up.?' he would say 'Aniyan'. This was one such put down.

How much and what would he know about me and my Paris Hilt, and of course the elephants of Meghalaya?.


menon ( aniyan )

Mallur kaadukal (The Mallur Forests)

'' This is not a very old story. Yes,it's about those times; the bridge across the river at Kuttipuram was not there then.

Stray travellers to south, far and few, had to cross the river by ferry boats. Once you cross the river,the pathway to reach south of Kuttipuram was only through the Mallur Kaad (Mallur forest).
The sands of the river bed and the pathway has lot of stories to tell; gory stories of robberies
and murders of travellers ending up in 'Mallur kayam'. ''

'' What is Mallur Kayam?'' asked Naveen the six year old grandson of his neighbour;he drops in at night to hear stories from Kochappan and fall asleep.It's almost a regular affair. Today I also joined the story listening session. I sat on the floor stretched my legs in front and leaned on to the cot. Cool breeze blew in. It was quiet.Ideal for story listening session.

'' Mallur is a point in that jungle path. There was a huge trench filled with water; unused, un touched and filthy; quite deep too.That's Mallur kayam.''
'' Tell me the story''. Naveen was impatient.

Kochapps continued. '' The ferry man was a crooked and wicked fellow. He had a wife and a son, 10 years old.This man used to give information, about the arrival of travellers by his boat, to a gang of robbers. These robbers used to waylay people, rob them,kill them, and throw their body into the Mallur kayam. They used to give a share of the things robbed to the ferry man also.''

Naveen was listening with concentration written on his face. Let me admit; so was I. Long time since I listened to a story;Chittappan (uncle) used to tell similar ones years back.

'' One day the ferry man, for some silly reason, got angry with his son. He heated an iron rod and pressed that on to his son's legs above his knee ; like he used to brand the cattle whenever he bought a new one for identification. His poor mother couldn't stop the ferry man from doing it.
The mother was in agony seeing her son writhing in pain.The ferry man never repented any wrong he did in his life.''

I could see the pain in Naveen's eyes.

'' One day the boy didn't return from the forest where he had gone to collect firewood. The mother waited; for days and days. He never came back.The mother grew sick and died few months later. The father continued his activities and helped the robbers ; ate , drank well and lived.''
Kochappan was intense in his narration. It was not listening. It was seeing; the story.

'' And one day came a traveller who looked rich.As usual the ferry man signalled to the robbers about the arrival.The traveller refused to part with the money he had. They killed him by by cutting his throat. Took away all he had and gave the ferry man his share and left.''

'' And then it happened'' Kochappan continued.'' While taking the body to be thrown into the Mallur kayam the ferry man noticed a mark on the thigh of the traveller. It was the burn mark; the scar of the wound he had inflicted on his son years back.The wound had healed but the scar remained.He had returned after years of exile to see his parents.It was a moment of realisation for the ferry man of all the wrong things he has done in his life.He dragged the body and threw it into the kayam.Feeling repentent about the atrocities he had commited ,he also jumped into the trench and commited suicide.'' Kochappan finished the story.

Naveen nestled closer to Kochappan. He was a bit scared.Naveen liked the story. He was probably turning the story over and over again in his mind.

Kochappan looked at me. He was stroking the head of Naveen to comfort him, to put him to sleep.

'' Are things any different now?'' he broke the silence posing a question; to himself, to me, to no one in particular.

'' There is one Jessica Lal cut to pieces, loaded on to an oven and roasted;not in Mallur kayam or Chambal forest. In Delhi, not by robbers but by rulers. Now such things happen every day These children will have lot of stories to narrate like I did to day.They do not take place in forests but within the cities. They are not done by ferry men but men of power and pride.They don't hide in the forests or valleys. They walk around under the flash light of cameras. They come by BMWs, Skodas , loot, kill, rape and go scot free.''

The moral anger flared up in him.He finished his soliloquy.

A 'soliloquy' as defined in the Oxford Dictionary, is, the act of talking when alone or regardless of any listeners, esp, in drama. If you have a clinical hatred towards the usage 0f such dramatic words for such a simple situation, may I compare it to the delivery of a monologue by Amitab or
(if you are particular about south) Rajanikanth.

After finishing that 'Soliloquy' or 'dialogue' he looked at me.I was overawed by his diligent summing up of the two different scenarios , of the past and the present. I sat there looking at him admiring his capacity to narrate a folk tale to a six year old with the same expertise with which he used to teach me nuances of British and American English. Amazing man this Kochappan!
After covering Naveen with ablanket he turned and saw me sitting and staring at him.

'' Why do you sit there and look like an envelope without an address written on it?''

I smiled in reply; looked at Naveen. He was blissfully asleep.

I couldn't get sleep when I went to bed.

No, its not the sad story of the ferry man and his son.It was this mention about me and the 'envelope without address on it' that I couldn't understand.

Hats off to Kochappan!. He always speaks things which people can't understand.

I must ask him about it tomorrow!


menon ( aniyan )