Long long long ago, lived a Gentleman, Adi, with his wife Iva in the Country of Eden on Earth. Little did he know he was made the King of Eden. He lived on rare fruits from the trees of his own orchard. So plenty were the yields in the garden that he was busy trying one fruit after the other until he fell down and snoozing. This continued in Eden until…
His wife, attractive Iva, on the other hand, was conscious of her image and beauty. Busy collecting herbs and rare leaves of cosmetic and medicinal value, she was very selective in her diets and never ever ate anything and everything comes her way. More so, she was kind with other creatures in Eden. She, in fact, used to make good friends out of the other creatures of Eden. Iva, being the most beautiful of all the Edenites, used to get very flavoured fruits of rare kinds from other Orchards too. Those were special fruits which were not often found in Adi’s orchard. Adi, though, had no knowledge of this trespass and continued his careless lifestyle. Iva used to induce her appetites with the apples and berries so brought for her from other orchards by her admirers.
Adi, though was to take care of Iva, seldom cared for her. He was trying on various fruits from the Orchard and had nothing else, but to sleep after filling his belly. What to say, his life was an interval between filling and emptying and refilling belly.
Eve, was often getting tired in the Kings Villa, that she had to be on her heals alone, many a time. What to say, after all, she was also made of flesh and blood. Her despair was growing day by day.
Then on one such day…
On one of her stroll in the back yards, she happened to come across, Serpan, a handsome young adult with long arms, dark blue eyes and wily grin on his lips. He was holding a very beautiful bunch of purple berry. With bubbling mouth Iva could not beat her tempt which eventually set upon the man and the berry.
Iva ate the berries. That day and days after.
She sensed pukish and pleasant uneasiness in her under belly. Never mind she had had a fine feeling inside. Her flat leaf-like under belly was growing……that it has become as big as a jack fruit found in her Orchard.
Tired and exhausted, one day while sleeping, Iva heard a voice. It was from the Watchman of the Orchard, who knew what had happened inside the Orchard.
The watchman pronounced, Iva ate the fruit which was prohibited in the Eden, and for that matter, she was no more eligible to be in Eden. She was asked to leave, no matter where, as that was the order of the owner of the Orchard. She held Adi’s hands, who was still asleep, and walked out of the gate of Eden.
The door was shut behind them.
When Adi woke up to his senses, he found himself out of the Orchard and in a dry land where he could not lay hands on his favourite fruits. He could not stand that and became angry. He beat Iva in anger that she was put on breathtaking pain in her belly. Not knowing what was happening Iva cried cried until she was parted with her burden. Beside her laid the twosome – later named Cai and Aai- both boys.
Slowly and steadily thereafter ….
Iva forgot all the pain of the beating she got from Adi. After all, she cheated on him by having those berries from that Wily Serpan. Otherwise they would still be in Eden and their beautiful Orchard. Never mind, Iva felt more happy as she has something to do here now. She was busy in nursing her two sons, Cai and Aai and fetching and cooking meat for Adi.
Adi seldom spoke after that, he, in anger, got hold of a sharp object and started tilling the land. From sun rise to sun set.
There was rain, and soon there were grains along the tilled lines. Adi plucked the wheats and ate. He found it good.
He gave some grains to Iva and the twosome. They ate and found it good too.
Then, cai and Aai had many of their brothers and sisters and lived in that place and that was named after Cai, the first born, Canai….
The story does not end here…
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
A sunday movie Outing
Sunday has, for long, been a day for reading columns of HT, matri-ad for Swap in MM & TOI, fishing at Seemapuri, eating, dozing and normally ends with Sunday marketing (buying vegetables for the week). This being the routine for all Sundays, we took a different course on 22nd May 2011. After trying seeing-off Latha and Premkumar at Nizam-Uddin (trying means only Baby could see them off as I was the watchman for the two cars- lack of parking space at both sides of Nizam Uddin – a sad story). We, Baby and me, took a break at TERI Library, had coffee and headed for a stroll at INA. Bought some more nappies for Gundappu, had meals at ‘Kerala Hotel’ , a Dhaba at INA. After that unpleasant meal we came back to IHC to watch Pranchiyettan and the Saint.
Pranchiyettan and the Saint- a beginning to end absolute entertainer with strong mind stirring message. The story in a nutshell is : Pranchi-(y)-ettan, a typical Trichur Nazrani, a rice trader by profession, with bags of money in his kitty, but gets little respect in society. (The Trichur Nazranis conveniently abbreviate names like Pranchi, Prunchu, Porinchu, Pinchoo etc from Francis – Varuthu, Vareethu, Varu etc from Varghese – Chacku, Chakkunni, Chakkappi out of Jacob). A straight forward, rich but uneducated Pranchi earned an adjective to his name Ari- Pranchi( u can interpret it in English as Rice Francis)from his school days.
Francis Cheramal’ (his baptized family name) who is Ari- Pranchi for the town, struggle to attain some name worth his financial status (nilayum vilayum). He tried various means to get his name included in the list of ‘Padmashree awardees’. His liaison manager, hilariously enliven by veteran Shree Innocent, even offered to get him a ‘Chevalier’ a French knighthood. Pranchiyettan, as a true Trichur catholic businessman , sees his baits soon. He realizes, the only respect he gets from the market is the yettan added to Pranchi, which he is aware, even Trichurites will call Jesus- if given a chance – Yesu-(v)-ettan.
Pranchiyettan, a staunch believer in Church and its saints, calls on his favourite Punyalan (Punyalan is Saint in Malayalam) and his namesake St. Francis of Assissi. St. Francis started his sermon in French, which stunned Pranchi for he believed that the prayers he made all this while in Malayalam went absolutely waste as the Saint could not understand a bit. But the Saint, took note of Pranchiyettan’s agony and thenceforth conversed in staunch Trichur slang.
The Punyalan opened Ari Pranchi’s eyes, though late, to the hollowness of Nilayum Vilayum and the futile efforts people make to please the Punyalans with bribes (offerings)to reach their goals and their finding solace in a bottle of water(holy water) or a blessed rosary. I suggest a Catholic should watch Pranchiyettan and the Saint- filmy melodrama aparts- for a change.
Pranchiyettan and the Saint- a beginning to end absolute entertainer with strong mind stirring message. The story in a nutshell is : Pranchi-(y)-ettan, a typical Trichur Nazrani, a rice trader by profession, with bags of money in his kitty, but gets little respect in society. (The Trichur Nazranis conveniently abbreviate names like Pranchi, Prunchu, Porinchu, Pinchoo etc from Francis – Varuthu, Vareethu, Varu etc from Varghese – Chacku, Chakkunni, Chakkappi out of Jacob). A straight forward, rich but uneducated Pranchi earned an adjective to his name Ari- Pranchi( u can interpret it in English as Rice Francis)from his school days.
Francis Cheramal’ (his baptized family name) who is Ari- Pranchi for the town, struggle to attain some name worth his financial status (nilayum vilayum). He tried various means to get his name included in the list of ‘Padmashree awardees’. His liaison manager, hilariously enliven by veteran Shree Innocent, even offered to get him a ‘Chevalier’ a French knighthood. Pranchiyettan, as a true Trichur catholic businessman , sees his baits soon. He realizes, the only respect he gets from the market is the yettan added to Pranchi, which he is aware, even Trichurites will call Jesus- if given a chance – Yesu-(v)-ettan.
Pranchiyettan, a staunch believer in Church and its saints, calls on his favourite Punyalan (Punyalan is Saint in Malayalam) and his namesake St. Francis of Assissi. St. Francis started his sermon in French, which stunned Pranchi for he believed that the prayers he made all this while in Malayalam went absolutely waste as the Saint could not understand a bit. But the Saint, took note of Pranchiyettan’s agony and thenceforth conversed in staunch Trichur slang.
The Punyalan opened Ari Pranchi’s eyes, though late, to the hollowness of Nilayum Vilayum and the futile efforts people make to please the Punyalans with bribes (offerings)to reach their goals and their finding solace in a bottle of water(holy water) or a blessed rosary. I suggest a Catholic should watch Pranchiyettan and the Saint- filmy melodrama aparts- for a change.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Chotu, Badu and Gundappu
It used to be still dark, the bus will arrive on time as always, the mornings were too busy. Baby has already taken her position, where else- the kitchen, to ready b/f and tiffin. Before that she ensured a tea for warming up my nerves.
I usually take upon me the responsibility of waking the two up, usually with a sprinkler therapy, then the usual things, dress, feed b/f and the journey to school. While we did all these things, these two baboons were half sleep. However, the most important part of readying was doing the hair. Badoo’s Saibaba bunch with which I struggled to make plaits to make her look Gentle. Chottu’s was long straight, easy to experiment. I have tried umpteen times, but could never master this art of plait making. Baby appear, (with a curt look at me for my good for nothingness), at the right time and in no time, my twosomes turn out smart for the ride. Then comes the run for the school bus. Never cared, I confess, I had deliberately delayed myself to skip the bus to enjoy the scooter ride with Chotu in the front and Badu as pillion. The ride would be a cool ten kilo metres, watching the morning birds, making fun of every one men and animals, giggling, sniggering and laughing all the way.
Now all have become past… Chotu and Badu are no more so Gundappu arrived amongst us and I must tell you, Baby (Now Ammachi & Me Appachan) and all of us now have only one job to do. Dancing to Gundappu’s trumpet calls, no matter what time of the day, Gundappu whistles and in no time all of us are on our toes. -ATTENTION!. He may call for a change of nappy, for his quota of feed or a bottom clean up. Whatsoever, we all are on our toes. Tomorrow Gundappu will have his formal name. But we will keep calling him Gundappu until we realize the need for change or Gundappy make us change.
I usually take upon me the responsibility of waking the two up, usually with a sprinkler therapy, then the usual things, dress, feed b/f and the journey to school. While we did all these things, these two baboons were half sleep. However, the most important part of readying was doing the hair. Badoo’s Saibaba bunch with which I struggled to make plaits to make her look Gentle. Chottu’s was long straight, easy to experiment. I have tried umpteen times, but could never master this art of plait making. Baby appear, (with a curt look at me for my good for nothingness), at the right time and in no time, my twosomes turn out smart for the ride. Then comes the run for the school bus. Never cared, I confess, I had deliberately delayed myself to skip the bus to enjoy the scooter ride with Chotu in the front and Badu as pillion. The ride would be a cool ten kilo metres, watching the morning birds, making fun of every one men and animals, giggling, sniggering and laughing all the way.
Now all have become past… Chotu and Badu are no more so Gundappu arrived amongst us and I must tell you, Baby (Now Ammachi & Me Appachan) and all of us now have only one job to do. Dancing to Gundappu’s trumpet calls, no matter what time of the day, Gundappu whistles and in no time all of us are on our toes. -ATTENTION!. He may call for a change of nappy, for his quota of feed or a bottom clean up. Whatsoever, we all are on our toes. Tomorrow Gundappu will have his formal name. But we will keep calling him Gundappu until we realize the need for change or Gundappy make us change.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Farewell to Type Writer
The curve between my index and thump has developed a blackish rough skin. Eight hours of association with the mouse has caused this. The ‘mouse’ which caused my curve blackish is not the cat & mouse, many men, my age, understand, It is the master monitor of the computer.
Oldies ‘Halda’, ‘Remington’ and Godrej, my archaic companions of bygone time, have now made a slow fade from my mind, so also from the world of letters. Nostalgia, pulls me through the by-lanes of the past.
Thak, Thak, Thak, some at 40 wpm, 60 wpm and a few at above that. The thak, thak were the sound of music produced by the supersonic strikes with ten fingers of the typist on the multiple keys of the typewriter. Many still hold the doubt about the name, which one is for the machine and which one for the man. I will now say, both names fit in for both of them, as the man and the machine were one at 9.30 am till 5.30 p.m.
I walk through my memory lane and stops at the Royal Commercial Institute, Kottayam near the Raj Mahal Theatre, one of the two Cenema Theatres of Kottayam, the other being ;Star’, both do not exist now. At ‘Royal’ I learned to place my ten fingers rest on the ‘key board’ of a ‘Halda’ fetching “asdfjkl;” creating “a quick brown fox jumps over a lazy little dog”. It took 45 minutes to complete four lines on the first day of my training. The year 1970.
Type writers are no more, so are telex, cyclostyle machine, tele-printer, Dialer phone, cigarette cases, lighters (these were once part of office) ink pots, pens, pencils, fans, coolers…… and the old pan chewing Manager….. .
Oldies ‘Halda’, ‘Remington’ and Godrej, my archaic companions of bygone time, have now made a slow fade from my mind, so also from the world of letters. Nostalgia, pulls me through the by-lanes of the past.
Thak, Thak, Thak, some at 40 wpm, 60 wpm and a few at above that. The thak, thak were the sound of music produced by the supersonic strikes with ten fingers of the typist on the multiple keys of the typewriter. Many still hold the doubt about the name, which one is for the machine and which one for the man. I will now say, both names fit in for both of them, as the man and the machine were one at 9.30 am till 5.30 p.m.
I walk through my memory lane and stops at the Royal Commercial Institute, Kottayam near the Raj Mahal Theatre, one of the two Cenema Theatres of Kottayam, the other being ;Star’, both do not exist now. At ‘Royal’ I learned to place my ten fingers rest on the ‘key board’ of a ‘Halda’ fetching “asdfjkl;” creating “a quick brown fox jumps over a lazy little dog”. It took 45 minutes to complete four lines on the first day of my training. The year 1970.
Type writers are no more, so are telex, cyclostyle machine, tele-printer, Dialer phone, cigarette cases, lighters (these were once part of office) ink pots, pens, pencils, fans, coolers…… and the old pan chewing Manager….. .
Monday, May 2, 2011
April 22, 2011 - A Good Friday Indeed
All roads now leads to Rome (change Gundappu)
Gundappu arrived on the most auspicious day, Good Friday. This was an arrival all of us yearning for moths. I, the Appachan, confess, my happiness lead me beyond Rome.
I can see Gundappu’s Amachi, consulting places far as Narickal, and Ernakulam, but doing every thing her own ways and style. No doubt, no one doubts, what she does is the best and matchless. Gudnappu’s Mema christened Gundappu with that name when he was inside (you should know Gundappu is not his given name, but in our circle he will remain Gundappu for many more years). Wah! Gundappu brought us all to our toes with our antennas to his direction. Not only that,
Gundappu is now the Solar Star; every others are planets making round and round and round. Wah! All our planning for House, rooms, furniture, clothes Journeys, starts with the interests of Gundappu and turns around Gundappu. We will now have only one thing to discuss. Gundappu’s every day activities., his sleep, cry, irritation, intakes and discharges. Gundappu arrived with new music, light and colour in to our home, perhaps after more than quarter of a century.
To my dear blog followers, I reveal a secret Gundappu smiled at me, me only. I will soon be learning his language for effective and meaningful communication between us.
I am very busy, so until next time I come up with more news about Gundappu, excuse me please………..
Gundappu arrived on the most auspicious day, Good Friday. This was an arrival all of us yearning for moths. I, the Appachan, confess, my happiness lead me beyond Rome.
I can see Gundappu’s Amachi, consulting places far as Narickal, and Ernakulam, but doing every thing her own ways and style. No doubt, no one doubts, what she does is the best and matchless. Gudnappu’s Mema christened Gundappu with that name when he was inside (you should know Gundappu is not his given name, but in our circle he will remain Gundappu for many more years). Wah! Gundappu brought us all to our toes with our antennas to his direction. Not only that,
Gundappu is now the Solar Star; every others are planets making round and round and round. Wah! All our planning for House, rooms, furniture, clothes Journeys, starts with the interests of Gundappu and turns around Gundappu. We will now have only one thing to discuss. Gundappu’s every day activities., his sleep, cry, irritation, intakes and discharges. Gundappu arrived with new music, light and colour in to our home, perhaps after more than quarter of a century.
To my dear blog followers, I reveal a secret Gundappu smiled at me, me only. I will soon be learning his language for effective and meaningful communication between us.
I am very busy, so until next time I come up with more news about Gundappu, excuse me please………..
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