The New House

We were all going out to look at the new house we were going take on rent. After the measles everything was starting to get back to normal and school had just started again. The new house was near George’s house and Appan’s office and it was also bigger. We could see the trains from the house. There was a big jasmine bush in front of the house but the garden and yard looked neglected and unloved. It was a two-story house but the upper floor had the exact same design as the lower and they intended to rent it out to someone else. The lower part was to be ours.
“Do you like the house?” Appan asked Vena and me.
“Hmm Hmm” Vena nodded
I wasn’t so sure. I liked having a friend near and watching trains from the house but I loved the bougainvillea tree in the old house.
“What about you, Leila?” Appan asked.
“This is good, I think we should take it.”
And so it was decided.
We moved the next week and settled in. Kousu came with us and Appan’s office peon Masilamani, visited regularly to run errands.
The first problem we encountered in the new house was bold crows; they flew in through he dining room window and flew off with food from the table, sometimes even when we were all sitting around eating. Closing the window made the room stuffy and we were all at our wit’s end when someone suggested that we trap a crow in the room kill it and hang its wing outside the window. Masilamani came to our rescue in the killing and trapping and soon we had a dead crow’s wing tied to the window and it worked, the crows would come swooping down take a look at their dead comrade’s wing and would fly off. I loved sitting and watching the crows take an about turn at the window and sit and watch for hours on end. Vena started talking and walking and was turning into a very opinionated and stubborn little girl. Her mornings invariably started with three hot idlis, she would wake and up in the morning, go sit on the door step of the kitchen and amma would the idlis and she sat their quietly finishing it all off. Then she waited for Appan to come home and the moment she heard the gate opening she would run screaming “Ente Appan Vannu, Ente Appan vannu (My Appan has come, My Appan has come). Appan loved hearing that. As the sun went down and bed time approached she would start saying, “ Appan poe, Appan enne idekkenda, Appan enne thodennda, Appan enne nokkennda (Appan go away, Appan don’t pick me up, Appan don’t touch me, Appan don’t look at me)” and every night Appan and I end up on a mattress on the floor and Amma and Vena on the bed, because Vena refused to let Appan anywhere near her after sunset.

Devi Vilayattom

“Get up Get up, Vena is very high fever” Amma shook Appan.

“Hmm Hmm” He went right back to sleep.

Amma shook him again and he got up at last. “What time is it?” He asked, sleepily, and then turned to look at me. I was sitting on the bed rubbing my eye. Vena had rashes all over her and she looked very ill.

It is not morning yet and it is dark outside. Machachan, Appan and Amma get dressed and take Vena to the doctor. I am left with Kousu and her mother. Kousu’s mother says, “Don’t worry, this is Devi Villayattom, the goddess is visiting this house, that is why Vena baby has rashes all over her. The Devi is blessing this house.”

She then goes and soon is back with neem leaves, bundles and bundles of it, She ties them around the cot where Vena usually sleeps and we wait.

The news about the Devi blessing Vena soon spreads and people start coming to our house and when they comeback from hospital, the front yard is filled with people waiting to see and get blessed by Vena. Vena is sleeping and the noise of the waiting devotees wake her and she starts crying at the top of her lungs. Amma tries to calm her but they themselves are scared seeing the crowd. They manage to reach the door and take her to the bed.

“Oh My God, What in God’s name is all this?” She asks.
””This is Devi Villayattom, the Devi has blessed the child and is now inside her and people have come to take her blessings.” Kousu’s mother explains.

“Non sense Vena has measles, not Devi inside her” Amma is almost hysterical. “Why are all these neem leaves tied around the cot like this?”

Appan tries to calm her down; “Neem leaves have disinfectant properties so it is okay. The thing to do is stay calm, don’t get upset.”

“They have different customs and while we may not like it, as part of the community we may have to let them do at least some of it.” Appan tried to reason.

“Well, I am not letting them touch or do any mumbo jumbo to my child, she is sick as it as and I don’t want any of them performing any black magic on her.”

Appan asked, “Kousu, what do these people want?”

“They want to see the Devi and take blessing.”

“Now! Vena is very sick and needs rest. Maybe after a few days.”

“I don’t know how they will take it. Anyway I will tell them.”

She goes off to tell the crowd outside, Appan follows her and she tells them they can’t come in and see the Devi today but maybe after a few days. They are angry, some try to reason, others try to push in but then they all leave without much of a scene.

Kousu’s amma stays to help with the Vena, who sleeps peacefully surrounded by neem leaves.

In the evening I don’t feel so good, and I start breaking out in rashes and a trip to the hospital confirms measles. I too go to sleep near Vena surrounded by neem leaves.

When I wake between bouts of sleep I see people standing around with hands folded, praying. Amma sits near us keeping a watchful eye on the devotees.

Days later, as the fever leaves us and we start getting back to normal, I see that the old leaves are replaced every day with new ones. Then it is all over and Vena and I are back to normal, fully recovered and ready to take on the world.

“It was scary when it happened but in a few years we will look back on the Devi Villayattom as funny.” Appan said.

“ I suppose so but coming home from the hospital and seeing all that crowd in front of the house really scared me.” Amma replied

“Good thing all this happened before the house shifting.”

“What shifting?” I wanted to know.

“Didn’t we tell you? We are moving to a house nearer Appan’s office.”

“It is also near George’s house, so you can play together.”

“Okay I like that. But what about Kousu?”

“We are taking her with us.”

The Angel fight

Christmas was approaching fast and we were doing a nativity play at the school. I was to be one of the angels. We practiced and practiced everyday. Amma and Suja aunty came over everyday to pick us up after the daily rehearsals. Sometimes as we waited the flower man came over carrying a huge basket on his head, a basket full of Red Roses. Everyday I asked amma to buy one for me to put in my hair and everyday she would refuse. On the last day of the rehearsals Suja aunty came to pick me up and she bought me a rose. “But Amma will be angry, she will say I forced you to buy it” I told her.
“Don’t worry I will explain to her that I bought it because you were a very good girl.”
The rose was big, red and smelled good and I kept pulling it out of my hair and smelling it, by the time we reached home very little was left of it, all the smelling and counting of petals caused all the petals to fall of and I was left holding the stem. Amma was excited on seeing me, “How did the dress rehearsals go?”
“Good, I wore wings today.”
“So all set for tomorrow’s play.”
The play was scheduled for the evening of the next day. I was taken to the school early and all of us were made to change into the costumes, make up was applied. Out of the window we watched the parents and other guests coming in to watch the play. The teachers ran around making sure things were all ready and soon it was time and we were all on the stage. The play started, on the stage were three angels including me, we had huge wings and were crowding one another.
I asked the angel next to me, “Can you move a little, there is no place for me to stand here.”
“She glared at me, “Shhhh… Don’t talk.”
I tried adjusting my wings a little to make them a little more comfortable. In the process my wings touched other angel’s wings and she pushed me and then I pushed her and in minutes there were two angels fighting on the stage, pulling and pushing and hitting each other until the other angel’s wings broke into two and she started crying. I felt myself being pulled off the stage, I screamed and looked at the person holding me and saw Appan. He was looking amused.
“Well, Well, This is the first time people saw two angels fighting like this” someone said from behind Appan. I turned around and saw Machachan, Amma’s youngest brother and my favourite uncle. I smiled and he held out his arms. Soon I was in his arms, explaining how the fight broke out.
“She refused to move and I had no space to stand on the stage.”
“But we saw you break her wings and pull her hair. Why did you do that?”
“She pushed me.”
We looked at the stage; the play had stopped and there was a crying angel on the stage.
“I think that is it for today, we might as well leave and go home. Vena did not seem well so amma probably wants us home fast.” Appan said
“What’s wrong with Vena?”
“Just fever and cold. She will be fine.”
At home, Vena was sleeping, slightly feverish and Appan and Machachan had a great time telling Amma about the play and my role in it.

The first lie

“Sneha, Sneha Come here” Appan was screaming and he sounded angry.
I tried to think fast, I have not been naughty, I haven’t broken anything, then why was he angry. I walked inside and went to where Appan was standing. ”Oh my God” I thought “the statues”. He was standing in front of the cupboard and holding the broken statue, the rest of them were on the table. I held my breath terrified, knowing that I was going to be the recipient of Appan full terrible fury. But instead he asked calmly, “What happened? Did you break this?” holding the broken statue out to me. I shook my head, “No, I didn’t.”
“Really, who did it then, Amma, Vena?” he wanted to know.
“I don’t know’ I shrugged “I haven’t even come near it.”
Amma also had come running when Appan called me and now she said, “ Sneha, it really is okay, tell us the truth, we are not going to punish you.”
“No, I am telling you, I did not do it.” I was adamant.
Amma glanced at Appan; she was scared Appan’s temper.
“Listen Sneha, we know you did it, no one else could have done it but I want you to tell me that and tell me how it happened.” Appan sounded calm but I could feel the anger trying to break free.
“Did you take it down to look at it?” He asked.
I refused to open my mouth, and looked down concentrating on finding new shapes in the speckles of the mosaic tiles on the floor.
“You have to tell us, and do it fast, before I lose my temper and spank you.”
“Tell us what happened.” Amma tried again.
Then Appan walked out of the room. I stood there scared, not knowing what to do.
The day passed without my confessing to anything. Appan did not talk about it again.
Then one day sometime later as I was telling Appan about George, I said, “Appa, the, I showed the statues to George one day.”
“Is that when you dropped them?” He asked.
I did not know what to do, I hadn’t intended to tell him but it just came out with any plan.
I nodded, “I told him you will be angry, but he still wanted to see and then I showed him one and he wanted to see the rest and that is when one of them fell down.”
“But then why did you not tell me that? Things get broken all the time but why did you have to lie. Good children don’t lie.”
Later that night as we lay down to sleep, I heard Appan tell Amma, “It is her first lie. The broken statues don’t bother me much but her telling a lie made me feel as if I am bringing her up wrong.”

A New Friend

“Did you meet Thamby?” Chachan asked Amma.
“No, Not yet, we will ask them to come for lunch now that you are also here.”
“They have a son, her age.” He nodded in my direction.
When George and his family came to lunch the next day, we hit it off immediately, running around and playing in the sun. The mango trees had tender mangoes; sour not yet sweet and amma plucked a few, diced them and mixed in chilly powder and salt. Everyone loved them. As the day wore on, the adults sat around talking and we were left to our devices.
“Do you know, my Appan has been to Calcutta?”
“So what?”
“Well, it is very far off and a very big city, much much bigger than Madras.”
“No place is bigger than Madras” George said with certainty.
“Really? Are there statues here like the ones appan brought from Calcutta.”
“What statues?””Statues of women. They are so pretty that no one is allowed to look at them and so appan has stored them on the highest shelf of the cupboard.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Well, it really is true.”
“Well show them to me then.”
“No, No one is allowed to take them down. When we build a new house we will display them. That is what Appan said.”
“Well I don’t believe you have any statues. Otherwise you would have shown me.”
“George, Sneha, come inside, it is hot outside, don’t play in the sun.” Amma called.
“Amma, when is appan coming back from office? Can you show George the statues, please?”
“No, Appan will be angry if we take them down.”
“But Amma..”Amma shook her head, “Please don’t start whining Sneha.”
I looked at Chachan; he also shook his head to show he was helpless.
Then Appan and George’s father were back and soon the statues were forgotten.
“It is good that you guys are here, at least Suja will stop complaining about having no friends here. Now once the children go to school you can meet and do what you like.” Thamby uncle said.
Soon George left with his parents.
A few days’ later Suja aunty and George came back. Suja aunty and amma went to the kitchen and Vena was sleeping.
“Show me the statues.”
“Okay but you shouldn’t touch them or break them.”
“We went to the bedroom. I got a stool climbed on it and gently pulled a statue, unwrapped it and showed it to George.
“Can I see another one?”
I took out another one. After we finished admiring them. I put them back and then I dropped one of the statues. It sounded like an explosion going off. I got down from the stool looked at the statue on the floor, it had broken into two and I quickly got up the stool wrapped them up and put it back just as it was before.
“Don’t tell anyone.” I told George and we ran off to play, the statue and the crime soon forgotten.
“This is a good age, old enough to know the basics but not old enough to be brats, still able to coddle and have fun with” George’s father and Appan were watching us play.
“But they are still pretty unpredictable” Appan said, “A few days back we were lying on the bed and playing with her, when suddenly for reason she aimed and kicked be hard in the face. My!! I saw stars for sometime.”
“Yeah, unpredictable but soon they will grow up, start lying and learn other bad habits and then these things will seem small and insignificant.”

The Coconut Thief

“Why are Appappan and Ammamma leaving?”
“If they stay here who will take care of our house at Pudukad? Besides Ammamma likes to attend early morning mass in Malayalam everyday, which is not possible here,” Appan answered.
“Can I go with them?” I ask
“What about school?”
“Maybe I won’t go to school for some days.” I suggest.
“No, you have to go to schools everyday”
Soon Ammamma and Appappan are gone and we are back to being the four of us.
“Some one has been stealing the coconuts from the tree” Appan announced one day.
“Non sense, how can anyone do that, the tree is in front of the house and we would hear it if any coconut fell on the ground.”
“Well come and see for your self, the entire bunch of ripe ones are gone.”
Amma and Appan go of to check and Vena and I follow. Amma is livid, “Now we will have to buy coconut for our daily use. I really cannot imagine who could have done it.”
“Well thieves are every where, anyway ask Kousu if they heard any sound at night.” Appan says and leaves for his office.
In the evening, appan brings a guest, the gardener at the railway depot. They go to the coconut tree and look up at the remaining coconuts.
“Well, whoever stole it will be back for more” the gardener says.
“You do whatever has to be done, I don’t want anyone robbing me like this anymore” Appan tells him.
Then as appan and I watch he climbs the coconut tree and starts putting broken pieces of blade into the tree. This he does for quite a length of the tree and comes down.
Appan looks worried, “Even if he is a thief, the man mind hurt himself with all those blades.”
“Well, serves him right for stealing. This is what do at the depot and always the thief is someone we know.”
Appan still looks uneasy. But the gardener is sure this will work. “Aiyyah, this is how we do things in Tamil Nadu, you malayalis are too soft, feeling sorry for the thief when he is robbing you.”
Early next morning I rub off to check the result of the previous days handiwork but everything is normal. I run back and shout, “Appa, Appa the thief did not come yesterday, the coconuts are still there.”
Amma smiles and tells Appa, “Just like you to inform the biggest chatterbox in the world about your thief trapping plans. She has probably told everyone about the blades, the thief included.”
Appan picks me up and whispers, “This is a secret between us, don’t tell anyone about the blades. Okay. If you do the thief won’t come and we won’t be able to catch him.
The door bell rings and we go off to open the door.
“Chachan, Chachan Amma Chachan has come, Amma, Amma, See Chachan is here,” I shout happily.
Chachan picks me up and kisses me, “Where is Vena?” he asks.
“With Amma. You know Ammamma and Appappan were here with us, but then they went back to Pudukad.”
“Lucky you” Appan says, “One set of grand parents leave and the next grand parent comes to see. She always has someone or the other to fuss over her.”
“Chacha do you know we have stuck blades into the coconut trees here to trap the thief who has been stealing coconuts from us.”
Amma laughs at this, “She really cannot keep anything to herself.”
“What blades?” Chachan wants to know.
Appan explains and we all sit down for breakfast.
“Do I have to go to school today? Chachan is home and he will be alone if I leave,” I tell them.
“No, go to school now and in the evening we will go out with chachan.”
A few days later, Kousu comes running, crying.
“Aiyyah Aiyyah, My Appa has hurt himself, he says he fell and bruised himself, his body is covered with cuts.”
We all run to her house and sees him cut badly, “Come I will take you to the hospital” Appan tells him.
“No No Aiyyah, I will apply some medicine and it will go away.”
“But what happened, how did you cut yourself like this.” Appan wants to know.
He looks down and mumbles something.
“Did you fall somewhere? Were you drunk? Appan is shocked; he has never seen anything like that. It is as if someone had cut him up with a blade. Then it strikes Appan, “Oh my God! You climbed the coconut tree, you were the thief.”
Everyone looks shocked. Kousu and her mother start wailing and beating their chests, “Aiyyah please don’t report this to the police. This good for nothing man steals things to keep drinking.”
“No, No don’t cry, I am not reporting this to the police, but this should not happen again.”
We leave the wailing women to their misery and get on with our routines.

The Johnson's Children's School

“I don’t want to go to school” I cry unhappy after the first day at school.
“But Why, What happened? Did someone hit you? There were so many children for you to play with in school. Why don’t you want to go to school?” Amma and Appan want to know.
“The teacher isn’t beautiful, she looks ugly. I hate her.”
“Then don’t look at her, play with the children”
“I want to go to another school, the teacher here is ugly.”
“Okay we will move you to another school but there will be no excuses after that you have to go to the new school everyday.”
“Okay, agreed” I smile happy at not having see the ugly teacher again.
The next day Appan takes me on his cycle to another school. I look around and cling to appan with all my strength screaming my head off at the prospect of being alone in this strange new place. Appan tries to pull me away from his body but it is as if I have become a part of his body. At last he gives up and takes me home. I am relieved to be back at home but I see that Appan is not smiling any more. He is very angry. He doesn’t say anything to me but I can hear him discussing something with amma. The next morning I am at a new school, The Johnson’s Children’s School, just on the other side of the road from our house. I can see our home from the school and I have watched the kids from the school going to school everyday for the last few months, so I am willing to give it a try.
“Appa, you have to take me into the class room and to my seat.”
“Okay”
“Then wave before you go out of the class room.”
“Hmmm”
“Then wave again at the door”
“Hmm”
“Then come to window and wave again”
“Okay”
Then you have to stay there till the class ends.”
“Agreed.”
At the school Appan takes me to meet the teachers, they make a fuss over me.
“You look very pretty in your new uniform” they tell me.
I am scared and refuse to let go off Appan’s hand. He takes me in to the class and to my seat, then waves. I watch as he waves again at the door. Then I wait for him to appear at the window, I let a sigh of relief when he comes to the window. He stands there smiling. I relax and turn back to the class. I turn every now and then to make sure he is at the window. Each time I see him my confidence grows. I relax enough to pay more attention to the class, I almost forget Appan and then I turn around to take another quick look to be extra sure and he is not there. I look around, he is no where to be seen, I panic look around and see that one part of the class room wall is made of Pannambbu, a leaf and wood partition. I get up run towards the pannambbu partition and push it with my entire strength make a hole in it and run with all my strength, I cross the road and am home. Amma sees me and is shocked, “Where is Appan?” I am breathless then I see appan coming in through the gate happy,
“Well, She is fine today, sitting and attending classes without any problem” he announces to amma, and then he sees me sitting on porch step. And he does berserk, he picks up a cane and canes me, makes me walk back to the school caning me throughout. I am crying but he is too angry to notice. The teachers are waiting shocked and upset at my crime. I go back and sit in the class and cry and cry. I know from today there will be no excuses for not attending school, no matter what, I will have to attend class come rain or shine. No more carefree days at home. Appan has decided the rules and it will be implemented in full.

The school bag

“I asked the photographer to come. Appan and amma are here so we will take some photos before they leave.”
“Are they leaving soon?”
“No, No they will be here for sometime but still photos are always fun. Any problem with that.”
“No, I just asked, besides the children love having them here so I would rather that they did not leave soon.”
In the evening we are all ready, waiting for the photographer. I am wearing the “Shirt Appan got from Calcutta” and soon we are posing for the photos. The family photo, the four of us in a group, Appan and Amma, then Appappan and ammamma and Vena and me and individual photos of Vena and of me. When it is over all of us are tired and ready for bed.
“Don’t go to sleep without eating dinner.” Amma tells me.
“But Vena is sleeping already.”
“She is a baby and she has been fed.”
“Hmm Hmmm Hmmm.”
“Stop making that noise and finish your dinner, then sleep.”
“You are a big girl, in a few months you are going to school” Appan tells me.
“Really when?” I am alert, not feeling sleepy any more.
“She is only three and a half, why do you want her to go to school so soon” Ammamma wants to know.
“Amma, children start at the age of three now. Besides she will start going to play school now and then when she is four next year she will start LKG.”
I don’t like the way the discussion is going, what if Ammamma manages to convince Appan that I am too young to go to school. I really want to go like our neighbors children do.
Appan turns to me, “ What kind of school bag do you want? The aluminum box or the bag children carry.”
“The aluminum box” that is one I know for sure, I have been dreaming of the aluminum box for a very long time.
“Okay I will get that for you and may be next month we can start play school.”
A week later the photos are ready and everyone is sitting around admiring them, even Vena is pleased seeing herself in the photos.
“Amma, where is Appan?”
“He has gone to buy the aluminum box for you.”
Then we hear the bell of Appan’s bicycle. I run out and see that he does not have the box with him.
He looks sad, “Sorry darling but they don’t make the boxes any more and no shop stocks them in Madras.”
I try to be brave and try to smile but tears well up in my eyes and before I know it I am crying my heart out.
“No, No please don’t cry, I got something else for you instead. Look, Look at this.”
I don’t want to but when they continue to insist I look up , but can’t see through the tears. Appan lifts me up and wipes my face and shows me the bag he got me. It was my aluminum box, the exact one I wanted all shiny and metallic. I look at Appan, unsure about what had happened. He smiles, “I was joking. You know your Appan will get anything you want even if he has to go to the moon for it. So why did you cry?”I am happy and eager to start school as soon as possible.

The shirt from Calcutta

“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To the railway station, Appan is coming back from Calcutta by today’s train.”
The railway station is crowded and noisy. People are waiting for the train to come, some are waiting as passengers others waiting to receive their relatives while still others are seeing off relatives and friends. And everyone is talking loudly.
“Amma you are hurting my hand, you are holding my hands too tightly.” I pull trying to free my hand from her grasp.
“Stay still. If I let go some beggar will come and make off with you and turn you into a beggar.”
I move closer to amma, look around for any suspicious looking beggar who is plotting to take me away. A man in dirty taters come close holds out his hands and says, “Amma thaye, give something to a poor man.”
I look away move even closer to amma, then turn around to peek at the man again, he has moved closer to me and I can feel his smelly breath on me, I scream. Amma looks down and sees I am scared and picks me up. From the security of Amma’s arms I look down at the man but he is nowhere to be seen.
“Listen, Can you hear the train coming?”
Appappan takes me closer so that I can see the train coming from afar. Soon the train is in the station and people are rushing about, getting in getting out, vendor hawking food and porters carrying bags.
“There, There Appan is coming.” All of us turn around and Appan waves.
“You have lost so much weight.” Ammamma says.
“Well what did you expect, I was sick for nearly a month and a half.”
“So how are my darling daughters?” He picks me up and all of us move towards the entrance.
“What have you brought for me Appa?”
“Wait till we get home. I will show you.”

At home I am impatient for him to open the bags and show us everything. But the adults have other plans they want to talk talk and talk. So I put my head on Appan’s shoulders and close my eyes and listen to endless adult talk.
“The typhoid must have been form something I ate, that plus the cold made me very weak so I ended up with pneumonia as well.”
“Good thing they decided to take you to the hospital immediately.”
“You see I had planned a trip to Kajuraho temples as the train goes through Kajuraho on the way to Calcutta. I think that is where the typhoid came from.”
“How was it?”
The temples are beautiful, statues and statues of the perfect woman. There are sets of statues showing a usual routine day of a woman. She gets up, bathes, combs her hair, wears jewelry, gets dressed and the beauty of it is that in each statue she looks perfect almost as if she is in a dance pose. I have actually got a set of replicas of these statues.”
He goes off and gets them.
“Most of these replicas are made with stone but where I could not find the stone replicas I bought plaster of Paris ones.”
They are beautiful. They are naked. “See the perfection of the figurines, it is as if the breast were made using a compass to make a perfect circle.”
Everyone admires them.
“When we build a new house we will display them.”
Appan takes them back and carefully arranges them on the top shelf of the wall cupboard, out of my reach. Then looks down and says, “Don’t take them down, don’t touch them. They are very delicate and will break if you handle them carelessly.” Then gives me a kiss.
Then he shows me the things he has got for me, a beautiful block printed shirt.
“Look, Look the shirt Appan got me from Calcutta.” I run off and show it to the others. Every one comes over to watch appan take out things we had brought. There are gifts for all, Saris and shirts and dresses and frocks. Everyone has gifts but the shirt Appan got from Calcutta is the best.

Calcutta Trip

“Leena, Leena, Where are you?” Appan was back from office.
“Why, what happened? Why the excitement?”
“Guess what? The railway is sending me to a one-month training in Calcutta. After that I may also get a promotion.”
Great, When will have to leave? I can’t stay here alone. Maybe I should go to Kerala.”
“No, I sent a letter to amma and appan to come and stay with you till I come back.”
“What Ammamma and Appappan are coming?” I ask excited.
“Okay what about the meat?” Amma is worried that without appan her in laws are going o eat her alive.
“Don’t worry. We will explain the situation to them.”
“What do you want from Calcutta?” He asks me.
“What is Calcutta?”
“It is place far off in the north. A place where Gosayis live.”
“What are Gosayis? What do they look like?”
“They are people different from us.”
“Calcutta is a very big city and ….”
“When are Appappan and ammamma coming?”
“Maybe day after tomorrow.”
Appappan and ammamma reach madras that week. We take them to the marina beach. That week we spend sight seeing.
“It is December and it will be very cold in Calcutta. Be sure to pack warm clothes.” Appan’s colleague advised him.
“Well, this is India, how cold can it get.”
“Still why take a risk, pack them.”
“Nonsense, I am not carrying any unwanted extra weight.”
“Okay up to you.” He had come to help with the packing.
Packing over we see off Appan at the railway station.
Having Ammamma to play with is treat, she knows a lot of stories and is always ready to play games. We play our favourite game for which the song goes:

Athalla Pithalla Thavalachi
Chukkume irickyanne Chulappe
Mariam vannu villakke oodhi
Goondu Mani Sarappe

Another favourite game is taking a big bowl of Porri (Puffed Rice) and putting it in the center of a freshly cleaned and sanitized drawing room, then switching on the ceiling fan. The Porri gets scattered around the room and Ammamma, baby Vena on her knees and I scrabble to collect and eat the Porri. Amma hates the game but it keeps us entertained. Ammamma is great fun to have around. Being the mother of an only son she loved girls and was the only one totally happy with her son’s two daughters.

Appan’s colleague pay us a visit, “There is bad news. Anton is in the hospital down with typhoid and pneumonia. He became ill in the train itself and railway authorities admitted him into a hospital. He is getting better but he won’t be able to attend the training as he is too weak.”
“But what happened? He was fine when he left.”
Amma and ammamma started sobbing.
“No please don’t cry, he is recovering. It must have been the cold, it is freezing in Calcutta and he had refused to take warm clothes.”
“When will he be back?”
“Maybe after another two weeks, it is better than he travel only he is totally recovered.”
He leaves unhappy at the prospect of being the bearer of bad news. Everyone is silent, frightened and sad and no one wants to play with us.

Baby Brother

There is a huge bougainvillea creeper in front of the house in Madras. It is like a tree covered with red flowers, the ground below strewn with the flowers and place looked enchanted. On one side of the house was a mango tree and around the house coconut palms swayed in the wind.
A few days later, “Where is amma?” I ask the maid.
“She is inside working.”
I go inside and check and find her in bed.
“What are you doing in bed? It is still morning.”
”Go outside and play and let amma lie down for sometime. I am feeling tired.”
“Can I lie down with you? I am feeling tired too.”
Okay come on in, where is Vena?”
“She’s with Kousalya.”
I climb in and the bed feels wet. I look at the bed and see blood all over the bed.
“Amma there is blood all over the bed. Amma are you hurt?” And I start crying.
Amma gets up checks the bed and sees she is bleeding.
“Kousalya, Kousalya, come here come here fast.”
“She comes in and sees the blood and looks terrified.
“Here help me clean up. Change the sheets.”
She comes out of the toilet and looks terrible, pale and sick. Kousu helps her sit down and then picks Vena up and goes off to get her mother. A few minutes later Kousu’s mother is here and she shakes her head and asks Kousu to send someone to get appan. Then Kousu takes Vena and me to her house.
“What is wrong with amma?”
“Oh don’t worry nothing, maybe she cut herself.”
“Then why did your mother want appan to come home?”
“Maybe she has to be taken to hospital.”
“Why?”
“To get a check up.”
We eat at Kousu’s house. Then go to sleep. At night I feel I am being carried, I open my eyes and see I am at home in my bed. Appan and amma are talking softly.
“Don’t worry. It was not meant to be.”
“But it was a boy and we didn’t even know.”
“It was not in our hands. God gives and He takes away.”
I listen for sometime before drifting back to sleep.

The Night Train

Our first trip to Madras was on the overnight train.
“Why is the train not moving?” I ask impatient for the trip to begin.
“It will in a few moments” Appan assures me
“Make it move.” I knew appan could make anything happen. Appan put his hands on the windows and pushed and pushed and ohh la la the train started moving.
I stare out of the window and see the trees and houses rushing past us and get the feeling that we are standing still, the world is moving.
Then the silence is broken by Vena’s bawling, loud ear splitting. Amma tries to feed her and calm her down. Appan carries her around. Nothing works. Half an hour later she is still screaming at the top of her lungs. Everyone around is watching us, some are amused, others irritated and all are surprised that a six month old can be this loud. Appan and amma are at their wits end and then a man who had been watching them for sometime comes over. ”Can I help? Give her to me and let me try to calm her.”
Amma does not know what to do. She doesn’t want to give Vena over to a stranger but then what was the harm in trying. She hands over the baby and the crying stops. He carries her around for sometime and she settles down and goes to sleep. He brings her over and hands her to amma and the bawling starts again louder than before. The man takes her from amma and sits down near us. Vena goes to sleep on his chest and stays there till morning.
I am sleeping in the upper berth with appan and tell him, “You smell of snuff. I hate the smell and it is going into my nose.”
“But I did not take snuff now.”
I know he did, he always does. He loves his snuff very much.
In the morning, when the stranger hands over the baby he is apologetic, “I have this effect on children.”
He does not want to hurt Amma’s feeling and make her feel inadequate.

Wedding, Birth and Baptism

“Her birth bought death to my mother”, Appappan said on Vena’s birth. After a granddaughter everyone was looking forward to having a grandson when amma became pregnant and when Vena my sister was born, there was disappointment. No one wanted another girl and they were angry. In a society where boys are coveted and girls were just an afterthought, Vena was certainly not welcome. Coupled with Muthi Ammamma’s death on her birth everyone considered her unlucky.

Amma had gone into labour early and there had been no time to rush her to the hospital and she had given birth to Vena at home at Perumbavoor attended by a midwife. When Appan heard of this, e was working in Madras at that time, he was upset and shouted at Njama (Amma’s mother), “You were trying to save money, if anything had happened to her, I would have killed you all.” Though Njama certainly had no such intention, the premature labour and the remoteness of the place made it difficult to get amma to the hospital on time. And immediately after the delivery, they had been rushed to the hospital. Vena was a sickly child but she survived.

Appan and Amma had had a love marriage they had eloped. In a conservative society like ours it had been a terrible thing bringing shame and ridicule to Amma’s aristocratic family. Appan’s family such lower on the social scale had accepted the marriage without any ado. Amma’s family’s rejection always rankled with appan and to him everything looked like an unforgivable slight. Maybe it was his guilty conscience at taking off with the sister of his best friend when they had treated him like family and let him stay with them. Appan had come to Amma’s house to design and construct a tombstone for her grandfather who had been a priest in the Jacobite Syrian Orthodox Church. He designed a beautiful tomb whish is still considered a masterpiece but also made off with the eldest daughter of the house.
Vena became the light of my life, the person I loved most in the world. Everyone thought there would be sibling rivalry towards her considering the fact I had had all the attention focused on me, being the only grandchild in both Appan’s and Amma’s house. Instead I was Vena’s guardian, willing to take on any one any size that thought or spoke ill of her.

She was baptized in the Catholic Church and ammamma was the godmother. No one attended the ceremony. Amma does not even remember it. She says Appan was in Madras and ammamma took her to the church one day and got her baptized but that seemed too far-fetched to be true. Amma probably did not care, angry with God for giving her another girl when she wanted a boy. Anyway no one remembers her baptism and for a long time everyone said she had been named Anna after Ammamma. Only Ammamma’s name is really Mariam and no one even knows who Vena is named after. According to custom the first-born is named after the paternal parents and second born if of the same sex is named after the maternal parents. In our case no one seems to know what had happened. I was baptized in Amma’s church and my godmother is Njama.

Luckily for us Appan was working in madras in the railways at the time and we moved there away from all the sickening competition going on between the paternal and maternal grandparents.

Mar Papa

Muthi Ammamma was a devout Catholic, making it to the church for the early morning mass come rain or shine. It was her life long dream to see Mar Papa (His Holiness The Pope) in person and her grandson loved playing pranks on her about this.
Once when she was in her nastiest moods, he arranged for his friends to come and tell him, “have you seen the paper today? Mar Papa is coming to our church today.”
It was be loud enough to make sure Muthi Ammamma heard it. She immediately changed into her finest clothes, rushed to the church. Soon it was dusk and she was still there, waiting. The priest seeing her asked her, “Why are you not going home?”
“Mar Papa is coming.”
“Where? Who told you?”
“It is there in the paper.”
Knowing Muthi ammamma and her grandson well, the priest convinced her to return home. She returned convinced that if she had stayed a little longer maybe Mar Papa would have made his appearance.
To anyone who cared to listen she said, “Do you know, Mar Papa has a golden complexion and has the softest skin on earth?”

As she aged, her mind played tricks on her, she became very paranoid, afraid that the world and especially ammamma her daughter in law was out to get her. The mornings were usually full of complaints of the previous night.
“Yesterday night, I was sent to bed hungry.”
“Really”
“Mariam had made Kozhallappams and other Pallaharam and she waited till I went to bed, then crept off and ate it all alone when I was sleeping.”
“I will check if there is any left over from yesterday’s night feast.” Appan would tell her.
“No, No There will be nothing left over, I heard her sweeping the floor and cleaning after she finished eating.”
“Really ammamma you should have called me and we would have put a stop to it all once and for all.”
“You see I can’t do that, because she has little magic elves working for her and they come and tie me up in the night to make sure I don’t get up or call out.”
“Where are the ropes they used to tie you?”
“They are magic ropes and no one can see them. Yesterday I lay down on the bed to sleep but they pushed me on to the floor, which is where I was in the morning.
Then they climb on top of me and punches me on the chest, see look at the marks.”
In her hallucinating mind she lived in a world populated by elves and magician and Kuttichatans. For her the pallaharams and the punches were real, the marks invisible to all but her. Appan and his friends loved talking to her and her hallucinated stories were great fun as they grew up. She had a special affection for me as her first great grand daughter. At nights when I stayed awake crying and everyone was trying to get me to settle down, she would insist, “Check under her arm, there are ants biting her.”
She was convinced that the ants had a vendetta against me and were planning to bite me to death.

Muthi Ammamma

My earliest memories are at the age of two and a half, I don’t know if it is really a memory or images made up after listening to the old stories told to me again and again by appan. Anyway this memory I have is about standing at my great grand mother’s deathbed and offering her water, which she drinks. The story told to me about this more elaborate, but I have no recollection of all that at all.
My great grand mother (Appan’s father’s mother) whom we called Muthi ammamma was dying and her family was standing around her. As per our custom each family member was offering her water but being a very stubborn lady she refused to take water from any of them, convinced that it was poisoned. Then I asked her if she wanted me to give her water and she smiled, drank the water I offered and passed away peacefully.
Muthi Ammamma was a typical woman of her times. Her belief systems were strong and her character even stronger. The mother of three children – two sons and a daughter, she loved them unquestioningly but when my grandfather got married she turned into the proverbial ammai amma, the dreaded mother in law.
At dinner time men eat first and then the ladies, as is the custom. Taking advantage of this she would serve the men dinner and when they finish and leave, she tells her daughter in law, ”Oh my dear what will we do now, the pot is empty, the rice is over. We have to go to bed athazhapattinni (on an empty stomach).”
The daughter in law can do nothing about this other than say, “That is okay. Don’t worry.”
Then the masterpiece, “Don’t tell this to the men, they will get angry.”
Again a dutiful daughter in law agrees to keep the secret.
But then in the night, once everyone is asleep Muthi ammamma would sneak off to finish the rice she had hidden away secretly from the daughter in law.
The daughter in law, my ammamma hears the noise in the kitchen and ignores it.
This keeps happening again and again for the next few days till the husband my appappan realizes something is wrong. Much coaxing later ammamma tells him what has been going on, and he solves the problem using a simple trick. Everyday when he is served dinner, he asks for more rice than he could possibly eat and then just eats part it leaving one half of his food untouched. Then when he gets up, Muthi Ammamma would want to know why he did not finish his food.
“I am full. Let her finish it, don’t throw it away.”
Muthi ammamma is stuck, she hates wasting food and she absolutely hates eating left over food. The only solution was to let ammamma eat it.Appappan kept leaving food in his plate till his death, many many years after ammamma had died.

Dreams

I dreamt about appan yesterday night. He was dead and lying on the cot on the white clothe before being moved into the coffin and all of us sitting around, crying, sobbing, upset. Then he started moving his eyelids and then his legs as if they were aching from lying still for so long. We all sat their surprised and our cousin AB moved closer to him and kissed him. Then all of us started smiling and laughing with relief. My son T moved close to him and started kissing him. Appan got up and soon everyone was talking excited at what had happened. We asked him what had happened and he said, “He told me that I had a lot of unfinished prayers to say, pilgrimages to make and thanks to give Him. He told me to wait till then. Besides there is a lot I have to do here. We need to make a new road to make the house more accessible to cars.”

J my hubby said that was okay we would do whatever has to be done. Then amma, C and I walked toward the gate and we saw people coming for the funeral and we were smiling happily when they asked where appan was and we said, “He is waiting inside.”

Dream Home

As an architect, he was very talented. The houses he designed afforded a level of privacy very rare in homes usually built for display of wealth. I never knew about this aspect of his design, but people who have lived in his houses often speak about it and I decided to check it out, especially after our house was built. In his houses the bedrooms and toilets are havens of privacy. In a very skilled way he ensures that one cannot see into the bedroom or toilet even if the door is open and you are sitting in front of the room. In contrast in our new house designed by a very famous architect, anyone sitting in the drawing room or in my brother-in-law’s house can see everything taking place in the bedroom, dressing room and toilet. So we have had to have curtains installed everywhere for the very bare minimum privacy required. All this would not have come about if my hubby had asked appan to design the house. But he was egoistic and has now paid the price by ending up with a house that is basically uninhabitable. If he had bothered to check out houses designed by appan then he would have realized how talented appan really was.

He never was able to make his own house. If we had made him draw the plan for a dream house then maybe at some time, if we ever have the money, we could have build the house. But these are just desires that cannot come true. I remember when we had just bought the current house 20 years back it had 15 rooms, all tiny inter connecting with windows opening in one another. Appan redesigned the entire house and made it a very modern one. I remember him saying,” Usually when I have to design for someone else, I sit waiting for ideas to come but now when I am doing it for our own house, I have so many ideas that I am finding it hard to incorporate all of them into the plan.”

Novels and Notes

Appan always wanted to write. He had made a lot of notes for the novel he was going to write. As I rummaged through his stuff, there was this notebook where he had put down notes and passages of his novel. He could have done it too if he had not been so disorganized in everything. He had a way with words. Every little thing would turn into a fascinating story. His stories of his childhood were really the best. His observations about the various people who lived around him as he grew up. He talked about Chacklathy Ouseph, Placka Johnny, Chumaru and lots of others. The stories were funny. If he had bothered to write them down it would have been as great as Tom Sawyer’s adventures. There was an eccentric man who was obsessed with making an atom bomb inside a mustard seed. He talked about nothing else and appan was sure that if the conditions were right, he might even have succeeded. He used to tell them when we were small and all those stories have been forgotten.

It has just been 60 days but he is turning into a memory slowly. Everything was so sudden, the disease, the death and funeral, the tears, the pain and the guilt. Did we do enough? Could we have done more? Were we good children? Did we make him proud? There were times when I hated him and wanted him dead then there were times when I loved him and felt lost without him. But whenever there was a doubt I called him and asked for his opinion and he always managed to clear my doubts.

Condolensce Visits

People come to visit me and are surprised to see me laugh and talk. I understand that. But for me, Appan’s death is very personal; mine not to be shared with others. Every moment is spend thinking about him, he fills my memories but I am unable to share that with others, with people who did not know him or who knew after his businesses failed. Those who knew before know how wonderful he was, generous, patient and loving. To amma he was the greatest pillar of support, expecting nothing in return for his generosity towards her family.

I was his favorite daughter. Once he saw an accident in Ernakulam, an auto had hit a schoolgirl. She was scared but not hurt and crying. People crowded around but did not help. Then Appan saw the girl cry and her lips curled the way mine did as a baby. That prompted him into action, getting her to hospital, informing her parents. V used to say Appan would move heaven and earth to make sure I did not cry.

Letting go

I was searching for a recipe on the Internet when J came home in a hurry to tell me that Appan’s condition had worsened. This was on Aug 8th, after that tickets were brought and then everything happened so fast. When I reached his side, he did not look ill, he had lost weight and looked weak but he was talking with everyone who visited. But he was serious, maybe not smiling much even when we joked. Death was at that point the furthest thing from our minds. We didn’t think he would go, we didn’t think he would ever go.

Making dreams come true

Strange how we have feeling in us that we were never aware of. In my adult life I have thought of my self as independent living my own life on my conditions. There was a time when I saw a new and expensive car; I used to think, “Wow, I want that car.” Now I find myself thinking, ”But appan won’t be able to see it, then why bother.” I realize now that everything I have done or have wanted to do was to make him proud. His opinions were the only thing that mattered. Now without him nothing seems that exciting or worth working for. And he did have great dreams for us and maybe more faith in our talent than we ourselves did. We did turnout fine but we can do better and really do him proud.

Visa to Dubai

Sometime back before everything went wrong I told Appan that I would like to bring him here to Dubai for a visit. I told him to get his passport ready and he said that he could do it only after we got some ruling in the suits files in the court. He told me there was still time for all that and a few months later he is no more. Amma told me that coming to Dubai on visit was something he really looked forward to.
Appan took around the world. We visited Spain, France and England with him. He was different from other men in that he loved spending time with us, talking to us. He did not go out a lot. His temper was frightening, often without reason, making us hate him. He used to pick fights easily, always looking for slights when there were none. Traveling with him on a local bus at home used to scary because there would be the inevitable fight started by him in the back of the bus.

Friend, Philosopher and Guide

I miss appan. Each time I see his photo or think of him, I feel an emptiness that is deeper than anything I have ever known. I still cannot understand how he could just go off like that, away from us never to come back. Just stop living just like that leaving us all so bewildered and alone. When he was around we took him for granted but now that he is not, I don’t know whom to turn for each little thing.

In Libya once appan took us to the Grand Hotel on the marine drive, it was newly constructed and he did part of the designing. It was very expensive and he bought ice creams for us. The ice creams came in oversized silver bowls and there was so much that we struggled to finish it. In the end it brought on a fit of coughing that stopped only after we had downed glasses and glasses of warm water. Every Thursday we used to go out for drives, just long drives around the city and then eat out and come back home late ready to pop into bed. One of our favorite foods was Harees, we did not know what it was called then and we named it Pizza. We sometimes had grilled chicken, which we nicknamed rotating chicken. Often his company would take them on picnics on farms and orchards and he came back laden with the choicest nectarines or whatever other fruit was on offer there. Once he came back with a new idea, the Libyans ate bread dipped in olive oil and soon he made us eat that way and he did the same for some time after that. He was always ready to try on new ideas and ever open to new thoughts. He was a great man, the greatest father. We have been lucky to be born to him.

Passing on

Appan passed away on the 10th of August 2006. It was a very peaceful death, contrary to what every doctor we consulted had said. His condition took a turn for the worse on Aug 8th and C and me flew home to him, me in the morning and C at night. I spent the entire day with him. He was okay wonderfully well giving us not even a hint that next day he would be no more. C stayed the night with him. The children were also there, screaming playing and having fun. It was a great day. So great that we did not realize how near death was. After I left in the night, he kept complaining of discomfort. He said he wanted dialysis to be done and to move him into the ICU. In the morning by the time I reached the hospital with a clean set of clothes for him to change into, his senses had failed. He was sitting in the wheelchair and when they moved him on to the bed, it was as if he has bone or muscles. On the bed I tried to call him and he tried to tell me something and then he was gone.

He was gone, he just stopped being. Our wonderful appan was no more. Our guide, philosopher and friend left us.

24th August 2006

I was searching for my father in the notes I had made in my diary. Notes that I hoped would help me discover the man who created me, had been my hero , my companion , then at some point became a liability when I felt I had become more sensible independent and smarter than him only to realize now after he is no more how much I owe him.

We always knew he was never going to leave us any material wealth unless of course he won a lottery but we never reckoned how much he had contributed in turning us into what we are today. We were just three ordinary girls who he filled with lot of confidence self respect and a very strong survival kit. He loved books and turned us into voracious readers. He was a great storyteller and though he is no more, our children learn those stories from us. As we pass on what he gave us, our children turn into better human beings than their peers.

Appan was a special person and his love was unconditional. Though I feel even he realized the amount of love he had for us only in the final days. V says that during the final days his only thought was his daughters, nothing else concerned or bothered him. His leaving us has created a big empty void; though I still haven’t really let him go fully. The moment he died I remember feeling appan hugging the four of us in a big tight embrace, protecting us, as he has never been able to in life.

Every little thing in our live was turned into a major lesson in life. A small thing like buying glasses for our myopic eyes turned into a history lesson on the eye glass industry , the retail shops in Ernakulam and Kerala. I remember the name of the shop even now “Vithayathil”. We had lunch in Grand Hotel that day; there was “ Karimeen fry” as special dish that day. Grand Hotel was a favorite of his during that time. It has been so long since we have been to a good hotel with Appan. HE introduced us to fine dining, to good hotels and we were never able to return the favor to him, But then we never did return any of the things he did for us we never told him how special he was or how much we loved him. We were too busy judging him and blaming him, getting influenced and guided by what others said.

Home Again

Appan has become very weak mainly because of the removal of the fluid from the pleural cavity every other day. He has also getting blood transfusions regularly now.

B called to say that he was becoming weaker and weaker and that his condition did not seem very good. He also said that appan was asking to see me. But that there was no need for me to hurry home but be ready. I am planning to go home next week, if tickets are available. All flights are full due to school holidays and onam festival. And there is the problem of my son’s missing classes.

I told amma about this plan to come home and she sounded frightened saying, “ No, No there is no hurry, don’t come.” She has not yet come to terms with how serious Appan’s condition is. She seems to be the only person with some hope left.

Kidneys and lungs

Appan has been complaining of constipation and I asked him if he was drinking enough water. He said he felt like urinating every five minutes and that it was very inconvenient as amma had to help him to the toilet every time he wanted to go. He did not like using the bedpan and so amma was unable to get any sleep. It is because of his kidneys not doing their job.

He has had high blood pressure as long as I can remember and has been taking medicines for it. But sometime back he reduced the dosage by half of the pressure medicine and I think that is what did in his kidneys.

Amma said he had slight swelling in his feet and that he was weak after the removal of the fluid. Doctor has asked for an X-ray to be taken and I don’t know the result yet.

The good son

They removed the remaining fluid yesterday, so he was able to talk to me yesterday. He is upset that L has not called yet. The doctors said he could go today but we feel it would be better for him to stay for a few more days, till he is able to recoup his strength.

His father and mother died of cancer. Ammamma of pelvic cancer and Appappa of prostrate cancer and they died pretty young. She died when I was 5 and he died when I was 13. Somehow I always knew it would be cancer in his and my case too.

His cousin sister’s son is here in UAE now, working in Sharjah, and he was glad to know I called and spoke to him. Appan is an only child, the apple of his parents’ eyes, but he wasn’t able to do much for his parents. They died much before he was financially sound, though he was able to get them the best treatment available at the time. Amma was great too, looking after his mother like a daughter. They had a good relationship. I just we are able to do for as much as he could do his parents.

Sedated

Talked to appan yesterday. He had been sedated and just woken up so seemed upset. He kept repeating that he was not well at all, was breathless all the time. “Does J know I have been hospitalized”, He asked. Maybe he wants me to be near him now. I tried telling J that I wanted to be near appan now. It would also be a relief to amma to have someone near her, but J is worried about expenses of the up and down trip during peak season. He wants me to give him a guarantee that another trip will no required, he wants me to be sure that appan will die during this trip. Well, sometimes we invite punishments for ourselves by our words and actions and for J it was one of those times. Words that will haunt him forever and will follow him to his deathbed.

It is surprising that appan should have an unhappy end of this kind, when all his life has been very understanding of everyone’s needs. He never stopped amma in any thing she wanted. She was always there with parents in their times of need. He never objected to her helping her sister with money when her husband drank away the salary. But with his three daughters he has come up against a stonewall. Sis’s husband and mine refuse to let us visit our parents and youngest one herself is not interested. She is saving money by not calling her father at least once in a while.

They haven’t removed the remaining fluid yet, but may do it today. Right now he is being given cortisone injections to help him breath. Seems to be helping.

The Story Teller

Everything started with the persistent cough. Each time I called about the progress of the land deal he would tell me that he was too sick and cough into the phone. I used to get irritated assuming that he was refusing to get treatment to get out of the responsibility of clearing the mess he had created in the bank loan and land deal. Really it was a big mess. And he was cool about it, willing to let it fester and do nothing till the land got attached. We did not care about the land, as it was something he had made and he could do what he wanted with it but creating more liabilities without any source of income to get out of it was what really bothered us.

Anyway that was how it was and each time he spoke of illness I dismissed it. Even when sis wrote to me saying he was really sick I told her he was acting. When I returned home he had come to pick me up at the airport and he looked weak but I was angry and did not care. But at home I realized that maybe he needed to see a doctor. The cough was too persistent loaded with phlegm and looked like pneumonia. I was really scared he might become too ill by the time of wedding leading to more complications. An X-ray and MRI scan later, things were totally different. We were no more looking at a lazy man pretending to be sick, but a man with just a couple more months to live. The cancer had spread and was in the secondary stage. Both lungs were affected as well as his spine and lot of other parts.

Looking at him now brought back memories of what a great father he had been. At a time when other fathers tended to be aloof and distant he had been there for us all the time. Told us stories of kings and queens, and turned us into voracious readers. I remember him telling us “The adventures of Tom Sawyer”. I read the book much later but he had told the story so well without leaving out anything that even now when I think Tom Sawyer it is my father’s voice telling the story that I remember.

Fluid in the Lungs

July 31, 2006


Adenocarcinoma of the lungs, the killer cancer. Appan has been diagnosed of the same a few months back. The doctors gave him three months. Start chemo and maybe he will get another three, but that is it. Then the complication set in, his kidneys had failed and he needed dialysis to lower the creatin level and only then could we start chemo. Dialysis they said could send him into a coma as the cancer had spread and made him too weak. Every one felt it was just throwing good money away.
Though personally I wouldn’t have cared, good money or bad, if I had even a penny to my name I would have spend it all on him. It was what I had done before and would willingly do again, but marriage and no job has made a beggar in ways I just cannot imagine.

Currently on ayurveda, he developed breathlessness and has been hospitalized. He has developed Pleural effusion (fluid in the pleural cavity around the lungs). They removed part of the fluid and the rest they will remove today. I talked to him yesterday and he seemed stronger than he has in a very long time.
I pray every night for his recovery. He is just 65, too young too die. He is wonderful storyteller. He made a lot of mistakes but he has been a great father.