Timeline:- 1993-1998. Place:- Ramakrishna puram, New Delhi. My LKG to 6th std. Of course, sense of comprehending about things & events around must’ve taken shape only by 2nd std or so. Sketchy memories include early morning hastened dressing up & mom sprinting along with water bottle & bag to catch up with the school bus, long evening strolls with dad(me riding in tricycle), dusty roads & crowded markets, wearing mufflers to prevent catching cold during freezing winters & running rickety coolers during scorching summers(A/Cs were a rarity, moreover, nobody could afford those at that time), double decker rides, long walks with dad to Shiva Temple, safely securing in hands the offering, being a pot of milk & all the way continuously getting reprimanded for spilling the milk around, cows loitering around residential areas, grazing and me being a quiet l’ill lad in one corner of the class & never putting the hands up for even the easiest of the questions asked by the teacher. Life in Delhi was fun. Or, may be, must’ve been. I don’t know. Now it seems like iam writing out someone else’s story. I don’t, now, relate to, in the slightest of ways to that person. But one thing was certain. One thing or memory that remains still in a corner of my heart & which is deep treasured. My greatest prospect at those times when holidays arrive(especially nearing Onam). Going back to the hometown hamlet in Kerala, to my sweet l’ill grandma(mom’s mom) & my loving ‘kunjannan’. Of course, cant miss out 4 days of picturesque journey in Kerala Express scathing through several states & cultures. Trains were still feeding upon coal & not yet electrified. Official Indian Railway caterings & acquaintances formed just for 4 days. Still remember those fog ridden Gwalior station where we would be having long early morning stops for crossing, without fail, in every journey. Always be indebted to the Indian Railways for such sweet memories. (There are some other sweet train memories too, out of context, but will be discussed in later posts :P).
My most cherished memories of hometown hamlet, Kallada, Kollam include stealing ripened tamarinds stocked up in ‘bharanis’ when everyone was fast asleep, grandma taking me for all temple fairs & buying me sweets & toys, & of course the Onam feasts. Then comes the most important person, with whom I still identify that hamlet. My Kunjannan. Kunjannan is my mom’s, cousin brother’s son, one year elder to me. A simple, down to earth, humble, fun-loving, gullible, innocent, typical village guy. Infact, he must’ve been my first close friend. By birth, he was a cricket freak. Favorites being Hanse Cronje & Mohd. Azurddin. Yeah!! , 2 most scrupulous ones for being top choices. He was the one who taught me to play cricket. He has a sister, but she was too young to play with us. So we use to set out on our pursuit of cutting out a wooden bat & finding ways to buy rubber balls one after the other after loosing it on to every ‘superb’ sixers. We all were a joint family so everyone used to live together in this one big ‘tharavaadu'(a castle like). Kunjannan & his family were our immediate neighbors. But whenever I was home, he used to come over & stay. We used to keep awake till late nights to finish off watching all ODIs & test matches without missing any, mainly for his satiation, for I was never interested in this godforsaken business. Everyday, all evening we use to play & after getting freshened up, I use to go along with him cycling, for long rides through countryside. In this hamlet, everyone knows everyone by their bloodline. Always I was awed at his simplicity & humbleness while talking to others & the great regard with which he used to introduce me to them. 10 days before Onam, we should make this ‘Atha pookkalam”, a design made with flowers, & me & kunjannan would set out to steal flowers from others’ gardens.
Now this guy was a multi-talented chap. Used to sing & paint & had got an exclusive collection of himself. He never took any art of living classes, but was full of positivity & optimism. Encouraged & helped out everyone with their endeavors. I could always connect to him openly & discuss freely with him all my issues. Though he was just 1 year elder to me, he was way too much mature for his age. His family’s financial conditions were always poor, but that never hindered on his high self-esteem. No matter what, he always preserved his high level of integrity & dignity. The most dreaded moment comes when the day of departure to Delhi arrives. And without fail on every vacation, on that particular day he would be nowhere seen in the vicinity. May be, because he couldn’t bring himself to bid me farewell. When I left for Qatar after 6th std, all he asked of me was a decent cricket bat, which till date I’ve been unable to gift him. Moving to Qatar, I lost complete touch with him. Though the pangs of separation was there at the beginning, somewhere down the line, he ceased to exist for me.
These days, though it is very seldom that I visit my hamlet, whenever I go, Iam acquainted with him. He is the same good-old, simple, innocent, village guy. I dont anymore share the same rapport or intimacy with him as we had in those childhood days, but he is very much concerned about welfare while talking & manages to take his time out to help me with most trivial of doings. He did his B.A. Literature in Malayalam & is now a teacher at an elementary school. He is a real person, with real friends & real people surrounding him. He doesn’t have to & never puts up a facade of diplomacy. Cobwebs have surrounded me & don’t know whether there at all is any innocence left in me. I wish I could be half as real as him.
Now if you ask me what is real name, i just really don’t know. From time immemorial I’ve been calling him “Kunjannan”. My dear Kunjannan. 🙂
Love
Vishnu Sivaprasad
Vishnu Sivaprasad 