Till Death

Today’s morning paper had a good surprise item for me. A news item transported me back to the "good old days". The article was about a yet to be marketed item called a “TwoDaLoo”, which can be used by two people at the same time. It promises to promote savings in usage of water and harmony among its users. According to the report, couples more often than not, go to the toilet in front of one another. In that scenario if toilets are made for use of two, as claimed in the report, it promises a world of good for the couple, while saving precious natural resource.

Reading the article took me precisely half a century back. In those days, there were no toilets in our house. I and my younger brother used to go the open fields together for our morning chores and I still vividly remember unless we were called at least three or four times, our job was not finished. During those moments, we talked about everything under the sun, unmindful of the chore we were in.

Having read this news item, I had only one regret. If these multiple user toilets one day become the norm, I should have gone for the patent of the original idea, in this matter.

Costly lessons

In life, there are many instances when one might feel cheated –a lost opportunity that nags your mind forever. I paid a visit to my home town in connection with expediting the work of obtaining the certificates, and in my anxiety to get them done sooner, we entrusted the work to a retired person who was doing some consultancy work in his new found free time.

When I first met him along with my wife he was all business like and assured me that the work will be done without much loss of time. He made us believe that as he is not familiar with the subject, he will inquire about it and go about the same strictly as per the rules. It took him more than a month to find out what needed to be done. This instance itself should have made me extra cautious.

Another incident came by at the time of handing over the applications, which he drafted in front of us. Whenever I questioned him about the steps to be followed in the matter or the language of the draft, he brushed aside such matters. He had an annoying habit of airing his views. If I put a question to him, he may not answer me at all, but would start explaining the same matter to my wife or to others who happened to visit him at that time without explaining the background of the matter to them. For example, when I asked him about his fees, instead of stating a sum, he started narrating a story. He had taken a work for some other person and had incurred quite a large amount of money, which the other person was now not willing to pay. This person, according to him, went to the extent of explaining his clout in the society and he questioned about the genuineness of the bill. In short he was not willing to quote an amount that he would charge me, but wanted me to assure him that whatever may be the final amount, I would settle his bill without any hesitation. I was not willing to go with such an arrangement. I had seen many agents who would agree to do work without quoting their fee - this method is to allow you not to think about the payment but only the work to be done. But when the work is over they will extract their pound of flesh before they part with the product. They will later on explain why their bill is so high, as they had done the work the way you wanted or you directed. I wanted to avoid that pitfall, as I have been a victim of such things in the past. But he did not quote a figure and in spite of my initial reservation, we went ahead with the matter.

Of course I never got my work completed through him, as every time I inquired about the matter over the phone, he had a ready made answer, such as he is on the job! It went on for sometime and when I happened to personally meet him later, I found to my dismay that he had not moved an inch in the matter. He was saying that he did not meet the desired person, as he wanted to be sure about the work will be done, as rejection of the request from a person of his status, will spoil his image. He was more worried about his perceived image than the certificate which I wanted.

In the end, I did not want him to test his ability to get the certificate using his image and the clout of the post from which he retired, while all along adding the expenses to my account. It left me poorer by few hundred rupees, but I learn't a good lesson from that experience.

Tharavadu

Recently I was in Kerala in connection with obtaining two certificates connected with my life - one a birth certificate and the other my marriage certificate. I never felt the need for both till this day but my daughter suggested that I obtain them in case it may become necessary to apply for a green card.

I always wonder about the change of attitude that had taken place in my mind. Whenever I visit Kerala and my home 'tharavadu', I feel guilty that I did not take any worthwhile measures that were perhaps within my means to safeguard it from its present ruins. This guilt is very painful as I have very strong feelings about this house with its once green backyard.

When I felt ready to begin my working life, getting a suitable job in Kerala was considered very difficult. As most others have done before me, I too left Kerala in search of a job and landed in Bombay. But I had the feeling at the back of my mind, that my tharavadu will remain as I had left it. From an age that I could remember, my grandmother did her best to enhance the prestige of the tharavadu without destroying anything that had been built by her predecessors. She in fact spent on its upkeep, from her own meager resources. Her life was one dedicated for the welfare of the tharavdu and I always felt her presence, whenever I visited the house. But on my short trips back I started noticing small changes and even some significant ones.But the desire to stand on my own legs was very strong and left me with no choice. I suppressed my true feelings about the house. I suppose I left those feelings at the very bottom of my heart and never once expressed it. Being a common property with a number of claimants’ to it, perhaps my feelings towards the house was the correct one. I was emotionally attached to the house and prepared to look after it spending from own pocket but like my grandmother I did not expect anything for myself from there.

But those succeeded my grandmother and our immediate group, which we call thavazhi did everything to destroy it. One by one they removed the tall trees and once they finished them, started selling anything which had a resale value from the house. They even succeeded in demolishing one beautiful portion of the house mainly for its good quality teak woods. When I saw the bare grounds after the portion of the building was brought down for its woods, I felt that my grandmother's soul would have left not only from the house but also from its surrounding compound. As per then prevailing practice, she was cremated at the tharavadu, on her death in the early 80s. After her death, whenever I visited the place, I felt at peace while standing at the very ground where she was cremated as I considered it as a sreekovil of the temple. The sight and presence of the ground gave me immense peace of mind.

We also had a huge collection of big vessels that was sufficient to prepare food for a number of people on occasions like marriage and other large functions. I remember during our younger days, we used to get papadams and nenthrakkaya whenever our neighbors came to borrow these huge vessels in connection with such functions in their house. Now I do not find any such vessels in the house. The saddest part of the story is that those vessels were sold for a pittance and its proceeds were spent on day to day necessities.

The processes of getting the certificates are on. Perhaps one these days the papers will come and the desire to be with our grandchildren may take us out of this country. In the meantime, my prayers would be that we save enough money to do something to protect what is left at our home. Should we choose to re-construct the portion of the house that was demolished or go for something say a separate small house in the compound with all its complications? I am still unable to make up my mind. But I wish to could do something at my place which I can say is mine, even though, from a legal angle, may not be entirely mine.

Greener Pastures

Some thoughts never fade away. I remember when I joined the Bank in the early 70s, one of the problems I faced was that I turned out to be underweight. The Doctor recommended re-examination after 3 months. I was told that failing to show improvement in weight would result in postponing confirmation in service and in extreme case, termination of service. The golden rule in this case was the decision of the Bank's Doctor was final.

To improve the weight, friends and colleagues suggested many easy tricks. Sum and substance of most the advice was to eat and eat more, which anyway, I was doing. But the other part of advice, that of doing exercise was not in my agenda, except running for the local train and bus and walking the distance from the station to the office. This last leg of journey daily would often result in a run, as most of the days, either the train was late, or if the train was on time, I happened to be late. Other than this running for train and brisk walking to reach office in time, I was not doing any exercise worth mentioning.

Bank would have allowed even medicines to improve the health, but I was generally averse to take any medicines, as in those days, I saw a doctor only when I could not postpone the visit any further.

On re-examination of my weight, after 3 months, it did not register any significant improvement, and doctor again recommended re-test after 3 months. Most of my colleagues had passed the medical test even at the first time itself and those who were unsuccessful cleared the same by the second chance. I was little worried to receive the note staying that I need to be examined again after 3 months. This time some of my colleagues came with more suggestions.

Someone suggested that I go for a Insurance policy through the assistant to the Doctor, as it was the Assistant who recorded the weight. He had an agency in his wife's name and he could get many insured from the Bank itself, looking at the number of such underweight candidates. Another suggestion was to go for drinking many glasses of water and eating bananas. I decided to go for this suggestion. I remember one of my uncle had told the same thing in a different context to my grandmother when she asked for some financial support to tide over a difficult time.

The time was after the Government implemented the policy of land for the tillers and those who were not farming the land like us; suddenly found that they have no grain to feed themselves, as people stopped parting the agreed share of the produce to the landlord of their produce. We were a large family of nine people, including one uncle, one cousin sister and we three brothers, two sisters and mother and grandmother. My grandmother had the responsibility of finding where withheld for the meals and that was the reason, she met this particular uncle, who while declining to part with any amount of money, advised us to drink water and tighten our belts. My grandmother stoically took the advice but many times she said that we the children will one day earn enough and take care of the needs.

Coming back to the medical test, I did not register the required weight, even after consuming half a dozen bananas, the third time around. That had only one effect, that of increasing my cold, as it was during winter time. As it is, I am allergic to cold and eating so many bananas, worsened my condition for one week. I decided never to go for such gimmicks. I passed the medical test at the fourth attempt, registering a slight increase in my weight and the Doctor must have hesitantly decided not to recommend a further examination, after three months.

But my problem did not end there. I gradually put on weight and now I can say that by the time I turned forty, I had a paunch and I was overweight, by the same standard set by the said doctor. And now my worry is the increasing weight and perpetual cold.

Jinxed!!

Train commute is a big part of city life in Mumbai, and the people in it are always in a hurry – to get to work, to get home, to get anywhere are everywhere. The train system is one of the best in India and offers the commuters speed and efficiency.

While I was in big city, throughout my working life, I traveled in local trains. I used to enjoy travel standing near and close to the window (when I did not get a seat), as this position affords certain privileges in the one hour train journey. One is certain that no one will overtake you, as there is no space between you and the window. People in Mumbai are known for their hurry and that is one reason they try to overtake anyone or anything which comes, their way. More over, there is a consolation that while you could not get the window seat in the train, at least you are traveling standing close to the window. In the overcrowded local trains you need to have some consolation as otherwise you may lose your sanity. But on the flip side, you are often asked by people to put their bags and luggage on the rack at the top of the window – so you are constantly putting things away or pulling things out for them.

After my surgery, I am not able to lift my right hand over my head independently; I had willingly given up the pleasure of traveling near the window, because of the sheer habit of people boarding the train and rushing right behind you. They will nudge you with their bag and baggage expecting you to keep it in the overhead rack. And if you happen to decline, they will kill you with their eyes and the body language, which will definitely spoil the rest of your day.

On shifting my residence from Mumbai to Bangalore, I bought a scooter for my travel in and around Bangalore. I opted for a lighter variety of scooter as I could not afford any weight on my right shoulder.

It gave me immense pleasure and freedom as far as my traveling requirements are concerned. I could go to any place at any time at my sweet will and I enjoyed this new found freedom. Compared to the over crowded local trains which I was forced to take for my travel, the scooter journey was a sheer pleasure. I even avoided the morning and evening rush hour traffic, as I had no muster to sign at the fixed hour. I was enjoying my scooter travel in the city till an eventful travel, last year!

I visited a place in the outskirts of the city and my scooter got a puncture! I was rather new to the place and had a tough time getting the puncture attended to, having pushed the scooter with my weak right hand over a considerable length of dirt mud road. Second time also, my scooter developed a puncture, after I had the occasion to visit this place. This time though my host came to my help, having called the mechanic home and getting the wheel removed at his workshop and putting it back, after inflating it. Today again I had to visit this place and the scooter completely went dead on the road, on my way back. I had to push it on the road till I located a repair shop, where it was found that scooter needs complete overhaul, even though I had the scooter serviced just a week back at its authorized dealer’s.

I am trying to determine whether the place is indeed jinxed for me or does my mind playing a trick? I am now retired and the need to spend money on items which are essential to life with my reduced income, has anything to do with my thinking? I fervently hope it is the later, as I enjoy my retired life and I know for sure, no place is jinxed to a person who loves each day which is the gift of God in this beautiful city.

Bike rides

As I had started to work very early in my life, I always had the feeling that I missed out on certain things in life. This was one of the reasons I decided to take voluntary retirement from work. I wanted to recreate those days of youthful exploits. But I found that though my mind is willing, body is not in that condition. However, I still do not regret the fact that I traded about 7 years of working life for pure simple fun.

Today I have absolutely no worry about time. I go for long morning walks and spend hours together reading -- newspapers, magazines, and novels. I spent time surfing and I don’t have to keep any fixed time or schedule. I often go on trips to places of interest. I had even a foreign vacation which we enjoyed with our son-in law, daughter and grandson. Those six months was pure joy. During all these activities, the only big concern is to find time to manage my money and some investments.

I have now purchased a bicycle and every morning I go for a ride. Though my legs started grumbling, I did not give up and now I am able to ride for one hour or so in the morning and again in the evening. I remember I had a cycle when I was young which I used to ride to watch movies in the town. Riding back to the house after the movie, during moonlight, was sheer fun. When there was no moonlight, it was little risky. Once the cycle fell into a ditch, and we had to push it rest of the way, as both the wheels got punctured.

It is still fun to ride the cycle again. But in the city where I live, roads are crowded with traffic even in the early morning and other drivers do not give much attention to a poor cycle traveler. This I find it very painful.

The Negotiator

My routine in the big city continued without any surprises. With the monotonous nature of work at office and the routine I had set for myself, I started to dream for something to happen, anything which will break it!

I had not given up my habit of replying to advertisements in the newspapers. But now I cut down and replied to only those posts, where I felt I stood a better chance. I also advertised myself in the situation wanted columns of the newspaper and got a good response for my first insertion. There was an offer from another transport company for the post of Stenographer, which I though would be better suited to me and I decided to appear there for an interview.

It was exactly after two months at my job and I received my second pay packet on the last working day. Next day was a Saturday, which I had chosen to appear for the interview. I went to the office early on Saturday, dressed in my best. The interviewer happened to be a Keraliate and he immediately liked me. He gave me a small dictation and asked me to type it out, which I did, without much difficulty. The dictation was good, as I could follow the words, without any difficulty as he expressed himself more or less in a manner, which was familiar to me. Then followed the interview, which was routine and at the end, he asked me what I would expect as salary. As I was getting only Rs.100/ in my previous post, I blurted out Rs.200/- a 100 percent jump, which according to me at that time was a good amount. He agreed with it after a brief consultation with his boss, the proprietor of the company, over the intercom, and he asked me to join from next Monday, which I readily agreed.

I had not attended my office that day and I phoned up them saying that I will not be coming to office any more. I also told my Manager about the offer from the new company and he wished me well. As I had received the salary, there was nothing to settle and I enjoyed the Sunday, thinking about my new post and company.

I was very happy to work in the new office, as the work was different. I had to type out the letters, which my boss dictated and this as the days passed, fell into a routine. The letters were more or less similar and I could cope with the workload too.

One time, when my boss went on leave, the company proprietor called me for dictation. He had a funny way of dictation - he never paused while dictating and went on dictating his replies either chewing the paan or smoking the cigar, while sallowing the words in between!

My joy of landing a good job with a reasonable pay was short lived. I received my first pay packet, which exactly contained Rs.200/-, as I had asked for. But next day my boss casually told me that the proprietor was prepared to pay Rs.400/- to who ever he appointed to handle the correspondence. Since I settled for Rs.200/-, he chuckled and said, that I got it.

To this day I cannot forget his mischievous smile when he told me that he could have recommended a higher pay, but I myself was to blame, for the loss!!!

The Golden List

I had prepared a list of things in my mind which I should do when I get my first pay. In fact I had this list ever since I was a small boy. I could say I grew up with the list, constantly updating the things I should do with my first pay. Since in those earlier days, I had no perception of the value of those things, it was easy to find fund for such expenses, within the limited income I had in mind. I was careful about the size of the pay packet that I may receive keeping in mind the level of education that I could get and our family background. Then suddenly, came the first day in my life when I got the first pay packet.

We were a family of three brothers, and two sisters, I being the eldest. While my grandmother managed the financial matters, my mother confined herself to cooking and taking care of us. This was the arrangement ever since I remember, as my father did not support our family, as is understood today. In this atmosphere, something more unknowingly had taken place. Whenever my grandmother found something out of her reach, her constant refrain was that I will be able to do it for her once I grew up and started earning. As I was very fond of my grandmother, I readily agreed with her and added those things to my ever growing list of things to do, once I attained that magic goal.

My grandmother used to receive the interest on her fixed deposit amount, and this amount, she used to keep in a beautifully carved wooden box, which had small, detachable closed partitions of varying sizes. These different sizes of small and smaller boxes offered her an opportunity to keep the money for different purposes. She never allowed herself the luxury to spend the money which she had reserved and kept separately for a purpose, however, pressing the need and the occasion. For those purposes, she had always some amount which was stored at the bottom of the box in small 'madisheelas' which she reluctantly took out for those unforeseen expenses. Those occasions rose quite frequently when all of us started schooling. On rare occasions, she went out to get some old yet small debts, which others had taken, but conveniently forgot to return as promised. During those trips, if it happened to be little away from our home, I used to accompany her. She treated me as an adult during those outside trips, but, in reality, I was only a child. On these trips also, I silently added one or two things to the list of things I will attend to, once I started earning. Her life was a constant struggle to adjust to ever growing demands with the constant limited income.

When I got my first pay packet, I opened it and slowly counted the money. It contained ten; ten rupee notes. I knew I cannot attempt even a part of the things which I had in my mind. On one side, I was feeling happy for the first pay I had, and on the other, I felt very miserable. On reaching home, I felt very sad and went to sleep early, without my usual small talk with my cousin brother, who was doing his engineering degree. I thought of my grandmother, and all the things I wanted to do for her. Next day morning I went to my friend and handed over him a sum of Rs.45/- to be sent as Money Order to my mother, and handed over the balance amount to my uncle.


When I thought about my list I found that even a fraction of things have not moved at all!

L [Cube]

Learning Life's Lessons

I get very anxious whenever my relations do not return home at their usual time. This can easily be avoided if they chose to communicate, but rarely do they do so. Often you don’t visualize the anxious moments which your loved ones faces until you are older, a bit wiser.

I remember an incident which was of my own making. I appeared for an interview, in a transport company, at the instance of my friend who had worked their earlier. He had a good rapport with the Manager and had spoken about me. The interview was quick, as I often had one word answers for most of his questions. Anyway, he took a sympathetic view and asked me to report to work from next day. I was overjoyed and started working there immediately.

I had quite a different picture of office in my mind perhaps from movies where working was pleasant and enjoying. Here I found the atmosphere totally different. The office was in a crowded part of the town and the building housed many firms like the one I had joined. For the first few days, I could not sit through the long office hours, so the question of finishing the work allotted to me became a difficult task. I had no habit of sitting at one place for a long period of time doing the same routine work allotted to me.

It was my duty to match the consignor and consignee copy of one particular consignment from each bundle and mark off in a register that the consignment booked at one place had been delivered at other end. Most of these documents had six digit distinct numbers and memorizing those numbers and finding the relative copy from other bundle, proved a difficult task for me as I am not really capable of retaining in memory six digit numbers. This slowed down my work considerably! The Manager was not very pleased about my work, as I had not shown any significant improvement even after one week.

But the funny thing was that I was also not too eager to continue in the post, having come to know from my colleague that he gets paid an amount of Rs.98/- even after continuing little more than one year in the post. He said he got a starting pay of Rs.95/- and an increase of Rs.3/- after a year. He usually had to borrow a sum of Rs.2/- on the salary day to be in order to get a note of hundred rupee denomination. [Though I was lucky again as the Manager gave me a starting salary of Rs.100/- I worked for him for little over two months.]

Anyways, after I started going to work, my uncle allowed a pocket money of Re.l for two days. I used to take this money from one corner place in the kitchen where uncle used to leave his entire salary. I used to take lunch from home and this money was sufficient for two days' bus fare, and tea, having purchased a season ticket for the train journey.

But one day, I spent the balance amount during lunch break over fruits and peanuts, which I was fond of. I had just 15 paise left in my pocket, which I knew will be sufficient for next day's morning bus fare. I thought, evening I could take a walk home, instead of taking the bus.

Next day, towards evening Manager had a round and he pulled me up for being slow. He insisted that I finish the work allotted to me, before I leave. I could not to say no to him, and this made me late. I missed my usual train as I reached the station late. Next train was late and it was around 9.30 PM when I got down at my destination. My bus stop where I boarded the bus was next to a shop where only 'Karumurai' was sold. This shop was in the process of closing. I wanted to buy a packet of peanuts from the shop, but it struck me that I have no money, even to take a bus, let alone buy an occasional packet of peanuts, which I used to indulge. I started for the long brisk walk home.

Unknown to me, my uncle had come home early from work and seeing that I had not returned home even after 9.30 PM, he set out immediately on foot in the direction of railway station. He was very concerned as I was quite new in that big city and he knew that I had no extra money, in case some unexpected things happen. I met him almost at the mid point of distance between our home and station. I still remember the look of relief on his face when he saw me first. But at the very next moment, he scolded me for being so late. When I reluctantly explained the situation, he shouted at me in anger and then asked me to take enough money from the kitchen from now on, so that I never face a situation like this.

I had learnt a great lesson on that night and I still fondly remember my uncle for the concern and that extra care he had shown.

A lost circle

For the last one week, newspapers and TV channels are carrying advertisements on the occasion of Akshyathritiya. The ads urge people to buy gold and jewelery - as it is believed that buying gold and jewelery on this auspicious occasion brings luck and prosperity throughout later part of the year. My idea would be that those who can buy gold and jewelery any time of the year, would definitely feel the prosperity. But if it is so, the reverse process would equally be true. Those who sell gold or jewelery any time of the year may feel bad about doing so especially if that gold or jewelery is associated with some particular occasion in their life.

I was coming into terms with my routine life in the city. I did my job very seriously - replying to each and every advertisements that I thought fitted with my qualifications. But unfortunately, I did not get any offer. I also saw some advertisements for job in which the candidate has to shell out few rupees towards examination fees. As I was short on cash, I ignored these advertisements at first. The process of these type of recruitment also takes time and I was in a hurry to land a job. So I had avoided responding to these type of ads, which was mainly from government/public sector institutions. But lack of response from the private sector, and coupled with the advice from relatives, I started responding to these advertisements also. Suddenly it increased the burden and I soon ran out of money. It was my uncle who helped me during these times, but I was aware of his limitations. I did not want to be a burden and I found a way out to make some money.

I owned a small gold ring that was brought by my father when I was still a kid. I can picture wearing it on my index finger when I was small. But gradually I had to shift it to my little finger as I grew older. Here too it was so tight that any attempt to remove it would cause pain, so I did not do anything. This was the ring that I sold one day to raise money for sending applications for jobs.

It did not occur to me that this small ring was the only piece of jewelry that I had from my father. My father had always lived in the present - he did not worry about the future! He spent the money, as soon as he had it, on anything, which got his fancy. It was his brother who sometimes paid off the debts, which my father in his years created. (About this aspect of his, I must write separately).

There is only one real deprivation, I decided this morning, and that is not to be able to give one's gifts to those one loves most. – May Sarton

I still feel guilty that I sold the only link between me and my father. The irony is that I had struggled and suffered, in the process of removing the ring from my little finger, to offer it for the sale. That pain still continues in my mind, whenever I think about it, as I have not succeeded in my efforts to get any such memento so far, as my father is no more.

Home away from home

Some wounds are hard to heal mainly because of its location on the body. By the time the wound heals, in spite of taking care, something hits it again and it bleeds all over. The emotional wounds are very similar in nature. They often never heal! This I find most painful.

While the shoe bite gave me many uncomfortable moments for almost a week, soon after my arrival in the city that never sleeps, the feeling of separation from my mother, brothers and sisters who I had left behind, caused more psychological pain, which I had not imagined. I found out soon that this wound takes more time to heal. More precisely, it never went away.

I started sharing the amenities in which there were already seven inmates. The front room measured only 10 x 10 and the back room, which also doubled as kitchen during day, was of the about 10 x 8. It also contained a 'mori' which served as bath room. Inside there was no toilet and one had to go outside, where there was a toilet block. This block had only two toilets for the entire 'chawl' consisting of six rooms which itself was home to six different families with varying size of members in each family. You can imagine the nightmare if all the members of each family wakes up at the same time and start using the toilet facilities!
More over, the same toilets were used by the owners of the chawl, who resided in a separate house, surprisingly devoid of toilets. I still remember the scene when the old lady from the landlord's house was being escorted to this toilet block outside. Because of her age, she tended to be a slow walker and sometimes assisted by her granddaughter, someone from the chawl used to beat her first and she had to wait for her turn outside. Even today I have no idea why they did not go for a toilet of their own inside their house, as money did not seem an issue to them. Even at that time, they used to receive a good amount of rent from their tenants.

Once the members of my room left for work and school, my work began in earnest. Having finished my morning chores, I used to go through the 'wanted' columns (classifieds) of the newspaper first and the moment I found a post suitable for me, I used to mark the same and later send a reply to them. Such replies, where the advertiser mentioned box numbers of the newspaper, were carried by my uncle next day, some replies, were sent to the advertiser direct which I posted at the post office daily. This was the time when the postman having sorted the letters received that day, used to hand over the letters to the waiting addressees, who sometimes came to the post office to collect them.

Meanwhile, I had not heard from my mother for quite a while. I had not sent a letter to her on my arrival in Bombay - in my hope that I would land a job soon and would be able to surprise her with the news. But I found out that it was a difficult task to achieve and my resolve to send a letter only after getting a job remained a stumbling block in my mind. I longed for news from my native place, and I guess, she chose to wait for my letter. I have no idea what finally prompted her to write to me first, almost a month later. Though, the moment I saw the letter, a lump was formed in my heart. I had a picture of the contents of the letter even before I opened it and it was more or less the same, of what I had expected to find.

Even today I find that lack of news from my dear and near ones opens the same wound in my mind.

A new begining

The other day, while shopping, for a footwear with a fancy design,got my attention and I purchased it. Being a person soon to attain the status of senior citizen, I was little hesistant to spend on a fancy item like this, but I soon overcome the hesitation. For many days, I had put off this particular purchase, as after my retirement from service, I did not give too much attention to my appearance. Not that I had always taken that extra care in my clothes, before stepping out of the house.

I choose to wear the new footwear while going out the next day. Soon I hurt myself and I could not walk a step further wearing the shoes. I removed them and started walking barefoot. It reminded me of the the day I landed in Mumbai; almost three and half decades back!

I had finished my schooling and passed shorthand & typewriting examinations. Soon I was trying to get a job. However hard I tried, my efforts did not materialize. Some of my relatives were in Mumbai and I chose to write to them. Soon my uncle asked me to come to Mumbai and you guessed it right,I purchased my brand new shoe for my trip. My grandmother insisted that I carry by bedding, as I was going to stay with my relations. Those days, the journey involved more than two days tedious traveling, as one had to change the train at Arkonam. Besides the bedding, I carried some of my favourite things, mostly of agriculture produce, and it was quite a heavy load. As my first long journey progressed, with changing of trains, I thought many times of abandoning the bedding, as I found it difficult to keep it in the crowded train.

After I reached Mumbai late in the evening, my feets were paining due to shoe-bites and I removed the shoes. I got down from the train, carrying my shoes in the left hand and balancing other luggages with my right. My ordeal had only started, as evening rush hour in the suburban trains had begun. Some how I got inside the train with the shoe in one hand and luggages in the other hand. Thus began my new adventure [in pain I might add] in one of the wonderful cities of the world ...