Nurungukal….

        To love and to make love are two different situations. If one is mental, the other is a combination of both mind and body. If one is like melting an ice cube in your mouth the other is like dissolving a sugar cube. Both flows down tickling each cell in its path. Love at first sight is a foolish statement. No, it’s a slow process. It develops gradually. In its course of progression many elements have relevancy viz; caring, sharing, understanding, ethics, transparency, confidence, concern, compatibility etc; not the least compromise.

         It is human to fall in love. If you look back into your life, at least a few instances of infatuation, if not ardent love, can be dug out. Other wise you are devoid of a subtle mind.

        Love lost or snapped have been the theme of many a love story, for authors world over. Ramanan, Nalini, Oonhnal, far pavilion , to quote a few. In epics around the world you can come across many more. So it is love and love alone in this post.

       My uncle was a historian by birth and an advocate by profession. He had written two volumes of world history in Malayalam. It was during my college days in Kozhikode. He ventured into this epic task, at the fag end of his life. Had it been earlier he would have written many volumes and accomplished his life ambition and our mother tongue would have been blessed. He loved reading.Even at his advanced age he spent hours on books written by famous historians like H.G.WELLS. I had seen him tenaciously writing notes in his crisp Malayalam hand, sitting bend on the varandha. On and off  I had the privilege of assisting him in writing the manuscript. Such sessions had no doubt benefited me to acquire a comprehensive view of the historical events, besides urging me to access great works.

         I have not seen his wife. My mother used to talk about Ammayi, that’s how I know her. The first and the last  Ammayi  we could call. She was very beautiful. She was the daughter of the eldest brother of my father. Her father was a doctor of those days. Mother married my father and in exchange uncle wedded ammayi. It was a closely knit family bondage. She passed away at a young age, leaving behind six kids, five girls and a boy. It was at this juncture my mother had to return from Burma to take care of the children and her brother.

      My desire to join the army was in one way related to the high ranking position held by one of my cousins. In fact he was the only one who could rise up to such heights in army hierarchy in our family. We were all proud of him. Although I have not seen him in his chequered uniform, many of his photos on duty has envied me. My inspiration to join a short service emergency commission during the Chinese aggression in 1962 was actually the result of the admiration to my cousin. But unfortunately my hope in getting a rank failed at the alter of the SSB in Bangalore. My  only consolation was that I could live as an officer for a week in the camp and had a glimpse of the  life in the barracks.

        He married the eldest daughter of my uncle. It was a love marriage, I presume. It was so in those days to establish a romantic claim with in close family circles.A love story unfolds here. I do not know the finer details of it, because I was not a witness. Hence I leave it to the those who know better. As in the case of any soldier he had to often leave his family at home and move with the troops either in our frontiers or in another country on a peace keeping mission. In 1957 when I was in college his wife and children, three girls, were in Calicut to pursue their education. It was from them actually I learned many of the nursery rhymes, which helped me to recite them in correct pronunciation to my children. It was then I came to understand the importance of a well organised primary education. The discipline and order they impart in public schools at the lower standards can no doubt create a base for moulding a perfect character. Perhaps this basics might have been an important factor for their success in life, more so in acquiring worthy and enviable life partners. His wife being the eldest had to shoulder the responsibility of a guiding force to her younger sisters and brother. And she did it immaculately. There had been many an occasion to me to seek her matured advise.

        Their wedding took place at Ponnani, in their ancestral house known as PARUTHOLLI. Before the marriage we used to go on visit to this house and stay there for a few days. It was a nalukettu majestically built in the midst of a three acre coconut grove. There was a gate house, a pond, sacred grove.All aligned in tune with Vasthu Shasthra. The function was solemnised in traditional style with all the ingredients such as mani panthal, the bridegroom procession accompanied by nadaswaram,sadya etc. etc.

        Many years later we resumed  meeting when they came down to settle down in Trivandrum. I remember to have made a ride in the standard herald car, which was a craze at that time, with the Brigadier gallantly. His pet vehicle which he maintained till his last.

         We have many friends and relatives with whom we move closely. But there are only very few among them who can claim intimacy and respect. This family is one such to me.