I rang up kochappan.this time it was about the writing skills of Meera.

''From some samples i have seen her written communication is very good.But, Dai, you will not believe this, she has started writing poems''

Let me break here for a second and tell you something.This mode of address 'dai', though used in Kerala extensively, is more prevalent in Trivandrum and surrounding areas.

Like 'kumkumapoov' in Asianet resumes every Monday after a break
I resumed my conversation with him ; after the above mentioned break.

'' I had a a difference of opinion with Mrs. Komala Menon,who, by sheer coincidence happens to be the mother of Aparna and Meera,in that order.
I was very vocal in that conversation with Komala, that my neighbour Mr.Simon pointed out later,that my voice has scratches and should do something to improve my performance. He also made a query regarding the raaga in which i was conversing with Komala on this occasion.He liked it''

I paused, had a dash of water and contd again; like the serial 'Kumkumapoov' on Mondays.
 
''Half an hour later Meera handed over her impressions on the incident in a paper in the form of a short poem.''

I read it out to him

'' Please mother don't stab father with a bread knife
Remember it was a gift when you were wed
But if you still want to stab father with a bread knife
Please, mother, use another one for the bread ''

''What touched me,Kochappan, is her equal concern for me the father,Komala the mother, and even the Bread knife which we got as a wedding gift''

I was overcome with emotions.I had tears in my eyes.
I felt a lump in my throat;the sort of which those novelists mention.

I disconnected.It's not good to talk with lumps in the throat... I will call him tomorrow....

Kochappan,Last hour and I

My classes for the BCA 3 sem is the last session on Wednesdays;from 4 PM to 4.50.Students are generally tired and will be looking for journey back home by college bus.

I rang up kochappan and explained about the situation and asked him to give some suggestions or options to solve ,may I say, this issue.

'' What solution can i suggest ? What option do you have?. I cannot think of any '' quoth kochappan.

suddenly I was struck by an idea and conveyed it to him'' One Sardarji who was travelling by the last compartment of a train from Mumbai to Delhi had lot of difficulty , because he could not buy any food or even tea because all the stalls are in the middle of the platform in all stations.
He wrote a letter to the GM of Western Railway.
''I have explained all the difficulties I had to face as a passenger of the last compartment and i give you two suggestions.
Sir, please don't attach the last compartment at all and if at you still insist and want to attach the last compartment attach it somewhere in the middle''.

Kochappan was silent for few seconds and asked me " What has this got to do with your issue?''

'' I can suggest to the students to speak to our Director and request him not to have the last hour at all, and, if at all he wants to have the last hour
he can have it sometime in the morning itself.''

I heard a 'thud followed by a crash.

If my memory serves me correct this would be the fourth time Kochappan has fallen for my creativity , my brains.

ഞാൻ അരാ മോൻ.

DESTINY, KOCHAPPAN, AND I

It may have been around 2 in the morning.They carried me to the car to be taken to the hospital.I was semi conscious.My weight,per se,was not a problem.What weighed them  down was the condition of some part of my anatomy ; heart,liver,kidney...;in my case my liver had grown little too big for its size.

Kochappan had come to Kochi and had advised me that I should not let things in me grow disproportionate to its design.

I used to look at the out side world,like any one of you,  through a window ,but here in the hospital I had
a look at another world through a 'ventilator' ; it was fascinating.

Immigration was denied and I returned home after one month.There was agony for a lot ; not ecstasy but a sigh of relief later on.

Nine years later,last week I went to the same hospital ;this time there were differences.
I rang up Kochappan and told him that I have taken quotation from three hospitals for an operation I had to go through, and have decided on the one where I was carried to nine years back.

I and Komala,packed a small bag stuffed with some clothes and walked to the auto stand and took one to the hospital. That was a re-enactment of our return to Kochi after a stay at her house after our marriage. we had caught an auto to kottayam bustand that day.

Sat in the room after reaching the hospital at 7PM.Climbed up to the fourth floor canteen had chapathi & Kuruma.
We sat in silence for some time.Looked out through the window from where we could see the main road and the three star hotel across the road.

That hotel was there, even then, nine years back ;but I could not see it because of  the ventilator.

The Barber came and shaved me clean, my chest. He insisted that I have a clean shaven face too. He dabbed Old Spice on my cheeks.

I smelled fresh for the surgeons who did the surgery.I returned home the next day.Walked up to the car.This time nobody got weighed down ; except my bank account ,which lost considerable weight.

It was history repeating itself, probably a re-run. I travelled to Powai to L&T and waited in the park to get an appointment letter.Years later when I should have retired , I travelled to Amrita Coimbatore and sat on a bench to get another appointment letter.

This time it repeated in my trips to hospitals.The first trips in both cases were anxiety ridden ;both to L&T, and the hospital whether I will make it ; the second one, relaxed.

 'Turn of destiny or fate' said Kochappan.'' Not only yours, but ours too.Its our destiny and fate too that you are back,alive and kicking''.

Was he being sarcastic, my being back and his fate etc... I want to clarify that ... I will not leave him..