Nurungukal: Nurungukal….. When Baletten’s photo appeared o...

Nurungukal:
Nurungukal…..   When Baletten’s  photo appeared o...: Nurungukal…..    When Baletten’s   photo appeared on my mobile screen I was virtually taken aback to grasp the speed at which twelve ye...

Nurungukal…..

   When Baletten’s  photo appeared on my mobile screen I was virtually taken aback to grasp the speed at which twelve years have passed by.

    Mother might have named him Balakrishnan in memory of her brother who offered his young life at the altar of India’s independence struggle in 1921, the year which has once again been referred to in recent hot debates, in the name of a movie which is yet to be conceived.

     If I roll back the memory tape about him, the first clip would be about the hectic preparations mother used to make, to see him off to Madras to join a bachelor course in Madras Christian College, Thambaram. That unusually sized trunk box, stuffed with clothes, pickles, records etc. still remain fresh in me. Then his return during the two vacations, Christmas and annual for which we looked forward eagerly expecting petty gifts like a fountain pen, magnifying glass etc.

    He would be in his peak when all of us get together during Onam celebrations. The house would be in seized   frenzy in his company, with jokes, counters, laughter, while our father would be enjoying the drama gracefully relaxing on an easy chair. My mother like a busy bee would be wandering from room to room as a co- artist to Balettan, occasionally raising her finger to subdue the crescendo of the chorus.

    While in college many a time me and my kid brother had followed him to Manachira surreptitiously and persuaded him to buy tickets for us too, to witness football matches in Sait Nagji Football tournament. Each time he obliged us, though with a noisy reprimand. Similarly we had enjoyed many second shows with him and Thampyettan and Padmanabhettan. But he seldom had the patience to remain in the seat and enjoy the film. In those days, roasted potatoes and dhall vadai were the delicacies in Crown and Radha theatres and of course the Masala dosa in Rama Vilasam and Shanta Bhavan hotels. Whenever I visit Calicut even now those moments creep in unknowingly.

      It was much later in my life I came to know about his yeomen service in organizing the co-operative movement in Malabar, especially in the dairy sector. His ardent contribution was a prelude in forming the Malabar cooperative Milk Union.

       His pet hobby was chess. He was an addict and gave his heart and soul in promoting it. He was the pioneer in initiating and practicing the correspondence (now online ) chess. Each day at least a dozen post cards indicating the moves of a distant player were received, to be answered and in a few cases I had the privilege of assisting him.  I even now remember how much effort he took to organize the first ever chess tournament at Zamorin’s School in Calicut. Later his perseverance culminated in a Kerala State level event in the memory of our Father who incidentally was a lover of Chathurangam. I had seen them on several occasions playing this ancient version, by carving out the pieces from the bark of a single banana leaf. It was he who showed me the move in …unthun thund, thund thund,  ale  undhu  …..Many a time I had the chance to play with some of his veteran chess mates, M/s  Prabhu, Lancelot Thomas and Krishnan Nair.

      Late in his life he even tied to give expressions to his humor sense by caricaturing some cartoon characters. I think he had written about his eventful life, right from the Burma days, which is still to be published. A dream unfulfilled. I fervently hope that this can be accomplished by his illustrious daughter.

     He was conspicuous in any company by his light hearted jokes and innocent loud laughter. He was a class apart in acquiring relationships and even now many of his friends, especially in the YMCA circle cherish his memory,.
     I always feel his presence where there is joy and happiness........

     

      

Nurungukal: Nurungukal…. It was after aprolonged, strenu...

Nurungukal:
Nurungukal….      It was after aprolonged, strenu...: Nurungukal….       It was after a prolonged, strenuous and concerted effort that I managed to get a transfer to Kozhikode warehouse. Fr...

Nurungukal: Nurungukal…. It was after aprolonged, strenu...

Nurungukal:
Nurungukal….      It was after aprolonged, strenu...: Nurungukal….       It was after a prolonged, strenuous and concerted effort that I managed to get a transfer to Kozhikode warehouse. Fr...

Nurungukal….

      It was after a prolonged, strenuous and concerted effort that I managed to get a transfer to Kozhikode warehouse. From the social and personal point of view the new assignment was pleasant as I could join my near and dear, but officially it poised many challenges. The trade union activity in those days in Kerala was very sensitive, vibrant and volatile, which demanded endurance, proper perspectives in tackling trivial issues which erupted unexpectedly. Previously I was sailing in safe waters as the work culture in Tamil Nadu and Pondichery was totally different.

      Any way my first priority was to ensure admission to my children in a good school. It was not an easy task as I thought to be. I had to go from pillar to post, taping at every door as the admissions were already at the verge of closure. I wondered how easy it was once upon a time, for me to step into the first standard without an entrance test or an evaluation of the social preparedness of my parents.

       We managed to live with my mother- in- law till her death and moved on to a rented house. Although it was near to my office, on the whole we were not happy and satisfied with the surroundings. After a prolonged search and hunt we were lucky to move to a new place, where even though there were a few inconveniences, the neighbourhood kept us to remain there until after a few years when we moved into our own house. There were twelve identically designed houses, in two rows separated in the middle by a service road which also was used as a play ground by the children. The tenants belonged to many walks of life. There were officials, businessmen, advocates, bankers, insurance agents etc. Even though each of us hailed from different back grounds, considering our cast and creed we lived like a cohesive commune in perfect harmony. Our togetherness was so intense that we never felt wanting in anything. It was sharing, caring, helping each other and an air of tranquillity ever prevailed. The rest of the family was always safe in the hands of the next door dwellers, even when the bread winners were away.

       The day as usual begins with a slow tempo. Men enjoyed a walk on the adjacent highway or went for marketing, invariably unaccompanied by their family. The prayer calls and devotional songs from the nearby temple and mosque kept us conscious of the time. My wife switched on her radio to schedule her chores in the kitchen and to manage the time efficiently. If by chance that tiny machine went off, the rhythm of her daily routine used to be in shambles and we had to bear with her through the rest of the day. As the day progresses one by one, starting from the children spurted out either in search of knowledge or bread as the case may be.  Say by ten in the morning the colony settled down in a slow pace, followed by the sound of the washing machines. Gradually by noon a silence prevailed as the inmates fell into their habitual slumber. Once again the tempo would slowly increases, when the women flocks for an afternoon gossip. If by chance any of the male members reach earlier than the scheduled time, he had to be a dog in the manger. By evening the children will take over the ground and it becomes a battle ground in all sense. There were many girls and boys of the same age and agility. A few babes also were there. It was the most enjoyable part of the day. As we witness their games and prangs, enjoying every moment, we elders shed our worries. This will go on and on until one of us forcibly put an end and call it a day. It is no wonder that many of them are even now frequenting us through our social media as intimately as they were used to be face to face in those days. 

       Those few years we consider were the best in our life as it taught us many lessons of the values of give and take, deriving immense pleasure and satisfaction.

These thoughts flared up in me when the other day I happened to chance through a video clip, celebrating the seventieth birthday of Mrs. Kumari Abraham who was our neighbour.  Mr. Abraham was popular and a good friend of some my relatives. He was a much desired personality in the then social circle of Kohikode. Perhaps he was the only one in those days to own an exclusive SKODA car. Their four kids Ojes, Thejes, Ushes and Martin were the bosom play mates of our children. I still cherish the happy moments with them enjoying many a movie and cricket match on our Keltron television screen. Together how we chased a rat snake, fetched buckets of water from the well when the public water pipes went dead, the cheer full faces of the children peeping through our window bars are some rare occasions still fresh in my memory chip.  

   I wonder how we might have behaved if a contingency like the one we are facing now would have confronted us in those days is beyond my comprehension. Whenever I feel lonely, for being forced to be away from the near and dear, thoughts like this appear in the distant horizon with a note of consolation. Venturing into the wilderness of the past and picking up a thread here and there is a mere fantasy and fun to drudge away boredom and loneliness……so refreshing...is in't it.....

Nurungukal: NurungukalYes, my father was….A Sun ……….for warmt...

Nurungukal:
NurungukalYes, my father was….A Sun ……….for warmt...: Nurungukal Yes, my father was…. A Sun ……….for warmth A Moon……..to remove darkness An Earth…….for patience An Ocean……for knowled...

Nurungukal

Yes, my father was….

A Sun ……….for warmth

A Moon……..to remove darkness

An Earth…….for patience

An Ocean……for knowledge

A Forest……..in diversity

A River……….for perennial love

A dew drop…in purity

A fire ………….Against corruption

To me he stood for many more essentials in life and that made me what I am today.

Not a day passes without seeking him

I am proud that he fathered me……

Nurungukal: Nurungukal…. I am not able tostill understand ...

Nurungukal:
Nurungukal….    I am not able tostill understand ...: Nurungukal….     I am not able to still understand the delicate mechanism of our mind or that invisible organ which helps us to rewind ...

Nurungukal….

    I am not able to still understand the delicate mechanism of our mind or that invisible organ which helps us to rewind memories how old they may be. Many vivid pictures of old incidents appear in your mind’s screen as fresh as it was when it happened. To quote a few…….How I enjoyed the way I was carried by a family friend on his shoulder to enrol me in a near by primary school, fondly named as Kunhan  college……….how my teacher in 3^rd or 4^th standard made me to stand on the bench when I was caught for copying the answer of an  arithmetic mental riddle………the minute details of the marriage of my sister,  and the delivery of her first child, which had happened when I was still in school…….the thrill I enjoyed while accompanying my father on foot to a distant place to purchase a cow……….many many naughty  advances made in the pretext of heroism during my college days to draw the attention of the other sex ……the finest details of me packing the luggage to go to Trichy for joining the Railway Training Institute, while my father was relaxing on an armed chair and mother chewing her pan leaves sitting on the wooden plank in the Poomukham…..how I missed to collect the telegram  conveying the serious position of my father’s health from the post man, which denied me to be with him during his last moments on this earth…..and the many episodes while I was in service..

        I had in the last few years put my efforts to dig many such unforgettable events, from the fathoms of my memory. I am not sure whether the depiction was complete or effective, yet it was only an attempt to reveal the past. In the past and in recent time as I traversed through the literary works of many famous authors viz; Bhasheer, Vyshakhan, M.T.V etc, most of the heart rendering works were based on their past encounters, experiences in life. Bhargavi Nilayam, Manassinde Rasathandram  and Nalukettu are all a few to mention.

       During this lock down impasse, I love to lock my heart and soul  in the nostalgic pavilions of my past , under an Ashoka tree, while the birds in different colours and agility chirp, prompting me in my solitary sojourn ……