Irreparable Loss when death snatches away some of our favourites

Anirudhan maman sitting on the fence stone under the lamp post was my memories of that strict but a man full of love.My childhood vacations was mostly spend in their house . A very warm smile and eyes showing full of happiness was a very welcoming sight, when we climb down the hill towards their home.

A man of few words but limitless love was the man I remember. He had his shades of grey character but that didn't deter us children from reaching out to him. He rarely express his mind but we could read it.He was a man who born in rich aristocratic family but ended up with nothing because of his vagabond ways. Appachi used to get pissed off with the sight of him since he never fulfilled his duties as a husband .His children loved him but was angry with him for not making them accomplishing their dream.He was a father who rarely praises , who just helps them only at the nick of time , they had their endless woes but I liked him . Though there was times when we had to stay on the ration food at his house but I preferred it than the luxuries elsewhere. He just watches from far when we play or work but his eyes watching our every movement and when in trouble he was there. My mother liked him , she usually doesn't like drunkards ,saying there is a very sweet personality below that rough  grim exterior. He  smiles  and says a few words to help her forget her sorrows but that was what my mother wanted at times than her other co-brothers who kept a plastic smile.

My father rung up to tell he passed away. Though he told it casually as I had already knew he was having blood cancer, I never expected he will leave us so fast. I kept my voice under control but my eyes was brimming feeling that irreparable loss or as my brother said 'the one and only good person in my father's family has left'.

Leaving from office , hubby went out with his friend and I lay down on the bed thinking of all the sweet things that happened in my life associated with him, my pillow was wet when I got back my controls. Hubby entered the room staring at me , saying some sweet things to change my mood but he was some one I can't replace, Hus never had known I had loved this man that much.

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In Kerala, Rehabilitated Killer Nurtures Mentally Challenged

I felt to share this.....one wonderful piece of info from a killer turned saint

Vasudeva Panicker, 61, is a mild-mannered watchman of a shelter for the mentally challenged at Punnapra, in Alappuzha district in southern Kerala. In his youth, Mr. Panicker was a soldier in the Indian Army. One day he returned home from his battalion to discover that his wife had run away with a lover. Enraged, Mr. Panicker stabbed his mother-in-law to death. He served 14 years in prison for the murder.

“I decided to hire him because he reminded me of myself,” said Albin Mathew, 62, the founder of the shelter Santhi Bhavan Sarvodaya. “I am a murderer as well.”

The shelter is located on a clearing by the railway tracks passing through Punnapra. In a large dormitory-style hall, a man lay on his face on the floor, his body twitching uncontrollably. Another man laughed suddenly. Many stared vacantly. A few had grizzled beards. A gray-haired woman cried. In a kitchen beside the hall, Mr. Mathew’s wife, Mary, who wore a blue sari, stirred rice in a large pot with a ladle. Outside, in a spacious courtyard, Mr. Matthew had built six huts with asbestos roofs and some bathrooms.

The shelter’s residents include Malayalis, the word for the residents of Kerala, but also men and women from other parts of India – Uttar Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, Maharashtra and Delhi. Their families had abandoned most of them because of their mental illness. Many were offloaded after being found traveling without a ticket on a train that stopped at the town of Alappuzha, a few kilometers from the shelter.

“I bring them to Santhi Bhavan because it is a home for poor people,” said Mr. Mathew.

Isram, a resident of the shelter, used to live in New Delhi. One day, he slipped while crossing railway tracks and a train ran over his legs. His family threw him out. He began losing his mental equilibrium and climbed onto a train leaving Delhi. He ended up at Alappuzha. Mr. Mathew saw him at a bus stop and brought him to the shelter.

Over the years, some of the residents show signs of improvement. Mr. Matthew teaches the recovering men and women to make paper packets, which are sold to the nearby shops. The modest earnings support the shelter, as do donations from ordinary citizens.

“People give whatever they can spare,” Mr. Matthew said. “At times, it is old clothes. At times, it is food.

“It is a miracle,” he added. “We have always been able to meet the daily expenses of 15,000 Rupees [$250].”

The expenditure includes food, medicines, electricity and water bills. Mr. Matthew remains thankful to the people of Alappuzha.

A houseboat in the backwaters of Alappuzha, Kerala on Dec. 29, 2006.
Christophe Archambault/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images
A houseboat in the backwaters of Alappuzha, Kerala on Dec. 29, 2006.
Alappuzha is a coastal town of lush paddy fields and coconut groves in southern Kerala, around 39 miles from the city of Kochi. Several canals and streams cross the town. Most people make a living farming and fishing. After several hours at the shelter, I walked with Mr. Mathew along a narrow road to a beach. On the shore, fishermen on a wooden boat sewed up holes in nets with long needles. They exchanged greetings with Mr. Mathew. We sat on the sand in a grove of eucalyptus trees, whose leaves moved in a soothing breeze.

Mr. Mathew recalled his long journey to becoming the man who managed the shelter for the mentally ill. In the early 1980s, Mr. Mathew worked as a muscleman for a political party, which he refused to name for the fear of retaliation. One evening in 1982, Mr. Mathew was drinking a glass of toddy, a local alcoholic drink, in a shop in Punnapra. He was gaining notoriety and influence as an enforcer for his party.

His rise rankled Kritav Podiyan, another enforcer of the party. Mr. Podiyan walked into the toddy shop to put Mr. Mathew in his place.

The two men had a heated exchange. Mr. Podiyan hit Mr. Mathew in his ribs with the wooden handle of a long, curved knife. Mr. Mathew took out his knife and drove it into Mr. Podiyan’s heart.

A crowd had gathered outside. Mr. Podiyan bled on the shop floor. A few men stepped forward to help the dying man.

“If anybody takes another step, I will kill him,” Mr. Mathew threatened. The crowd stepped back. Mr. Podiyan pleaded for water. Mr. Mathew placed a glass of toddy next to his mouth. “He took three sips of toddy before he died,” Mr. Mathew recalled. “He would have killed me if I hadn’t killed him.”

The murder of Mr. Podiyan cemented Mr. Mathew’s reputation for violence and established his authority as an enforcer in Punnapra. He deployed violence against anyone if he was paid a few thousand rupees by a rival.

“The party would ask me to get rid of people who were creating problems,” Mr. Mathew recalled. “Violence and threats seemed to be the way to settle disputes. The courts took years. People would lose patience and come to us.”

At a certain point, the villagers got tired of Mr. Mathew’s intimidation. One day, when Mr. Mathew was standing alone near a church, a mob encircled him. The villagers attacked him with iron rods, broke his hands, his legs, and smashed his face. They left him for dead.

The police arrived and took him to a hospital. He regained consciousness after three days and spat blood for weeks.

“It was a time of great turmoil. I felt that there was no point to live,” said Mr. Mathew. “I had become a beast.”

A month later, Mr. Mathew returned home from the hospital. His wife, Mary, had been working as a maid for their neighbors to support their three children. The Alapuzzha area has a strong Christian community with an active church. Mr. Mathew was battling depression. Two nuns came to visit him and consoled him.

“You are going to have a new life,” said one of the nuns. “You must confess your sins and go to the church.” Mr. Mathew felt the need for divine intervention. They called a priest.

Father Dhiraj, a priest from the Indian Mission Society church, arrived. Mr. Mathew confessed for an hour.

“I felt a tremendous sense of relief,” Mr. Mathew said. He wanted to live again. The priest advised him to pray for the people he had harmed.

A few months later, Mr. Mathew had recovered from his injuries. But the law of the land caught up with him. In April 1984, he was imprisoned for 12 years for the murder of Mr. Podiyan and other assaults.

“When I was convicted, my friends, my relatives and my party abandoned me,” Mr. Mathew recalled. “I was alone.”

In prison, Mr. Mathew renewed his allegiance to the church and became a devout Christian. The long prison years allowed him to examine his life. Mr. Mathew was just 11 years old when his father, a fisherman, was found murdered, having been killed by unknown people on a beach at Alappuzha. Ten years later, Mr. Mathew’s younger brother, Jacob Mathew, was killed by his in-laws. They accused the younger Mr. Mathew of beating up his pregnant wife.

“Jacob’s death made me furious,” said Mr. Mathew. “That was when I took to violence.” One day in prison, Mr. Mathew made a decision. “When I am released, I will be a boon to society instead of being a curse,” he vowed.

On the Indian Republic Day on Jan. 26, 1997, Mr. Mathew was one of 446 offenders in Kerala released from a prison in the capital, Thiruvananthapuram, after being pardoned by the then chief minister of the state, E.K. Nayanar. Mr. Mathew returned to Alappuzha. A few days after his return, he met a priest.

The priest advised him to overcome his reputation as a violent man and a convicted murderer by changing the way the townsfolk saw him. He advised Mr. Mathew to wear the robes of a priest. He followed the priest’s advice and changed into a saffron kurta, a sarong, and wore a rosary around his neck. Mr. Mathew continues to wear the robes.

One morning in 1997, while Mr. Mathew was wandering about, he spotted a deranged man with unkempt hair, a thick beard and dirty clothes.

“I decided to look after him, and took a house on rent,” he recalled. “I shaved his face, cut his hair, gave him a bath, and got him some clothes.” As days passed, Mr. Mathew found other abandoned, mentally ill men and women. He brought them to his shelter.

Mr. Mathew lives on the shelter premises with his wife in a thatched hut. He still wears the robes. His violent past is a distant memory, a lesson. “Those who live by the sword will die by it. There are no gains through violence,” said Mr. Mathew. “There is no peace of mind when you kill a person or cut off his limbs.”

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Sambar a day can keep the hubby away

Rushing back from office I went to kitchen , was already late for the evening meals.I washed the dhal and kept for 2 whistles to fly by.Hurried with the veggies and thought to lie down for a while.That cost it ,slept about half an hour .

Result: A burnt dhal

Absent mindly , I put the veggies along with the powders,cooked the sambar. After tempering ,I laid the table for dinner.

Hubby and his friends started their dinner,the burnt smell gave a thumbs up for them to tease me .I waited for a while for them to be quiet.no avail ,that teasing lasted for 2 days, from home to office and even every occasion where am present.

Now the after effects of burnt sambar ,am so pissed with my hubby doesn't look eye to eye.

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FIrst impression is the best impression!!!

Every girl dreams of a peacefull married life and imagine when this turns upside down.My hopes came shattering down when I got the blasting from my father in law for sitting in the living room of a relative's house.In this 21st century , he says ladies are not allowed to sit there , place reserved for men.

I felt tears stinging at the back of my eyes, brought up in a very modern outlook ,this was intolerable.Pouring my heart to my hubby,I asked him why his father is behaving like this. Answer which I got was a deadly shock.What his father told was right,was the answer!!!!
I looked at the man standing next to me , wearing the branded shirt and a baggy jeans was a real village cougar.

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Silent Life

He was disturbed for a reason that I dont know.Pacing up and down in his room,I felt like asking him was anything wrong.Guts didnt pile up for the same.I glanced at him and went away to the other room .

Half an hour latter , he pushed the door open and shouted TEA.

I got up and made one.Pestering him to talk ,I tried a few ways nothing worked .I went back to the other room.

My day ended with ending the tutitions of Shangi and retiring to bed.

Only 2 months left for 2nd wedding anniversary,we have grown far apart. I had read these lines somewhere
"What mystery is this that we are living
Parallel lives
Two train tracks that never meet"

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Hubby goes mad

Puffs of nearly a dozen cigrattes in bathroom made me think ...is this guy nuts.


After mumbling some thing in his mouth, laid down on his bed for a sleep.Uncomfortably I slept on the other side of the king size bed.Shifting uneasily some how I got sleep.

At dinner time,we had dinner and when I reached the bedroom door ,he banged the door on my face saying ......GET LOST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Sweet Love from MICA

As soon as we get the teenager tag, every guy and girl dream of meeting the destined one with all the innocence without demarcating any caste , creed or religion. When or how do we meet the person, god only knows .
Rohan had woken up hearing his mother’s voice commanding him to the breakfast table. half sleepy he stared at the grandfather’s clock, it was quarter to eleven.

‘God ,what was wrong with amma, I usually get up around this time.Then why is she screaming. Oh! Maybe some errand ,no way’
After a quick shower ,Rohan finally reached the table. An envelope was waiting for him,’ Rohan Sreedharan’ the letter read.


‘Who the hell was going to send me a letter that to a registered one’ Rohan thought as he opened it. That was the call letter from India’s top management Institute. He had cleared all boundary’s to make it to MICA. He flew into the kitchen and hugged his mother . Suseela was all tears ‘Yes you made it. I am proud of you’
Hearing the commotion, Mr Sreedharan walked into the kitchen, Suseela briefed him on the developments.
‘I had seen the envelope in the letter box ,w hen I went to take the newspaper.You people could have atleast peeped into the box yesterday’ The over disciplinarian grunted. Sreedharan hid his happiness in all the ways he can. He was the strict father.
‘Mone, congratzs .Hope you come out with flying colours otherwise it’s tough to get a decent job nowadays. What’s the specialization you are planning to take.’
‘Financial Management’
‘Good,I think it has good prospects. When should you reach there. I have to apply for atleast 2 days leave. Buy a good suit at woodlands. Here take this.’ He handed over a credit card. Rohan snatched the card and flew to his room.
He was happy for many things. First, He got admission to MICA, Second , His emotionless father congratulated him, third , He got the credit card.
‘Rohan , what is happening in your life’ Rohan was speaking to himself looking into the mirror.
Beaming with joy he called up his best friend, Renjith.
Renjith was besides himself with joy. He had to drop his schooling during the higher secondary due to family problems. .Since he realised what education is he was hell bend in making Rohan an MBA or else to put into his word ‘something educated’. He was the one who literally pushed Rohan to achieve all this.
Acchan and Rohan landed in Ahemadabad on Monday, 12 July. On reaching the campus , they found a jam packed university grounds. Lot of students from every corner of India had landed up there. Parents walked about head held up high, Their kid had made to this prestigious institution , why should they bend their head, obviously.
Rohan went in to the office for the final formalities .Sreedharan moved about and found a lonely man sitting gazing across the lawns.He seemed lost in thought. Sreedharan went and sat next to him.After an introduction to the Bengali man,Mr Chatterjee, whose daughter too had made it to this organization ,Acchan asked ‘Aap ,kush hey na’ in his battered hindi.
‘Jee , may kush hum par....’
Again that man seemed disturbed.
‘Ya , am happy but my daughter is stepping out of the house to such a long distance for the first time.She is my only kid.’
‘oh’
‘Mr Chatterjee, don’t worry , my son Rohan has also joined here. I will introduce him to u . He can be sought for any help needed.’
‘Thank you, Mr Sreedharan.’ The quiet man quipped
‘My daughter is taking FM . ‘
‘My son also.’
An hour or two passed by .Rohan came out first saying all the procedures are over . Classes will begin on August 2nd .
‘Accha, here it is compulsory to stay in hostel. So I paid for that too.’
‘Sheri, this is Mr Chatterjee . Her daughter too has joined here. That child is staying away from home for the first time, so you help her out if needed.’
‘Here comes Ankita. Rohan, this is my daughter. Please assist her if needed’ the over concerned father told him. Ankita gave annoyed look at her father and then smiled at both the father and son.
Rohan took a full survey of Ankita. She was 5’6” tall, black hair slightly coloured , beautiful brown eyes and a perfect smile. She carried herself very smartly. In a black tights and biege kurti ,she looked very cool .
‘Sure uncle, Ankita what’s your stream. I have joined FM.’
‘Me too FM .Nice to meet you.’ Ankita told
After some formal talks they waved goodbye and headed back to their homes.

Rohan joined the hostel on August 1st evening. This time amma had also accompanied them. After a bit of shopping , Rohan returned to hostel and parents back to Kerala.
There was a circular on the notice board asking the fresher’s to come to assembly hall by 10 am. The principal, Mr Sharma wanted to meet them.
Morning, Rohan along with his roommates headed for the hall.He spotted Ankita in the corner of the ladies section. She had made a good amount of friends. She wore a jeans and a tight T shirt with blazers. Rohan moved to the front row, hoping she glances at him. She didn’t notice. Princi began the lecture gracefully welcoming them to MICA and ended the meeting with a list of Do’s and Don’ts @ the Management House.
Rohan walked back to the classroom with his eyes on Ankita.He felt his heart miss a beat .He was getting attracted to her. During the days after he met her for the first time,his memories was laden with her thoughts. He had brushed aside the thoughts thinking that was unnecessary stuff but today he felt a nag in his heart.
The first hour lecture was by Mrs Victoria about the Management concepts. Ankita no now she is my Apps! Rohan thought, Ankita was sitting in the first bench to the extreme end.
He was wondering when his feelings changed . She was everywhere with him. He was missing her .Was this love at first sight. He had kept a control over his emotions when at home but at times dreams of her made his mother feel that something is wrong with her son. At times her questioning by rising the eye brow made him conscious, that he was day dreaming.
A jolt brought him back to the reality , he was in Mrs Victoria’s class. She was answering a question asked by Samsheer.First day, First class and Mr Doubtmaster. Some people never grow.Dude this is MICA!
As we packed, I saw a pair of eyes watching me. My !!! that was Ankita.She turned back as soon as I saw her.
1st semester went by with not much of hype . I was not sure of her feelings as yet but had doubts and felt she was interested.
Second semester began by January 15th .Running to the class I waited to get a glimpse of my rajkumari. She didn’t come. My day passed by with eyes on the door, waiting, any time she may walk in with some apologies to the lecturer.
Samsheer, my friend or else our common friend saw my dilemma and informed that she is extended her holidays for a week as it was her cousin’s marriage.
‘Are you not in her FB . She had posted the event. Didn’t she call u.’
Indeed I was in FB but never ever send her a request. Rohan ,the blender ,as friends call him, was shying away for the first time , was this you call love.
Rohan went to his room and browsed through the common photos taken during class hours. He sat thinking of all the events that had happened. At times he felt she reciprocated the same feelings but was not positive.
After a week, Apps landed in class.She was giving her friends the gushy gushy talks of the wedding but all the while she had her eyes on the door.
‘Where is he .Didnt he come back from the holidays .I missed him. I thought he would have proposed on the day one. Look at him. Hmmm, whatever it is’ I love him’. Hope, he has the guts to propose instead of this deadly smile. My! he is so handsome. Is he having any girlfriend in kerala. No , I will kill him if he does.’
With all these thoughts she turned to the door. He was standing there with a broad smile. She wanted to run and hug him. But kept that feelings to herself and waved a hi. Rohan was on cloud nine .He beamed and waved back.
He came near her desk ‘How was the marriage. Hope you enjoyed. It was boring in class without your laughter.’
She smiled ‘Ya was fine.I too missed my college’Rohan smiled and went back to his desk
‘Very diplomatic Apps but portrayed your feelings . I hope he understood”
Thats was Shameena. She got a ‘You knew it ‘look from Ankita.
‘How many more days are you both going to play this cat and mouse game. Can’t one of you propose.’
‘let him do it’
“Your wish .Don’t miss him.He is a gem of a person.Very helpfull,caring... ‘
‘How do you know. Did you speak to him before.’ Jealousy pranged in Apps.
‘Hostel guys said. He helps a lot and is very kind. They were coached during exams sitting late nights. He handles any problems and is an outright helper.’
‘Oh , thats all’. Smiling to herself she left Shameena and marched to the library as that was a leisure class, means no teacher,Ms Rajani,FM lecturer was on leave.
Days flew by . The valentine’s day was round the corner. Shamsheer invited Rohan to the common party on the night of valentine day ,Feb 14.It had Apps in it.
Rohan wore a black Jeans and a casual T shirt. They reached the venue at 8 pm as usual late thought Apps. A single round of drinks was over.
When the second round was over, Rohan asked Apps to give him company on the dance floor. She readily got up. Drinks worked, she just jumped to the offer otherwise she would have made him plead.
On the dance floor, they both seemed to be lost in each other.Rohan moved forward and without any other thought told the magical words”I LOVE YOU” For a second Ankita stared at him and then blacked out. She was too intoxicated.
After a few sips of lemon juice, she just could n’t keep her eyes open any more. The party got over without much of hype.
Next day in class. Rohan reached half an hour before. Apps was nowhere in sight. She reached two minutes before Ms Rajani made to the teaching table.Without even a glance at Rohan she sat at her desk for the next one hour.Rohan sat wondering did he make a mistake, was she not interested.
Three days went by. Apps remained silent , not much of laughter,talks anything. Shammena came over to Rohan’ s desk.
‘She feels awkward as she made a fool of herself in the dance floor’
‘But I...’
‘You speak to her. She will feel better’’ Saying this Shameena walked off.
Rohan got up from his desk .Apps understood his move , she got up glanced at him and walked off. He stood still for a second before running after her.
‘Ankita , What happened. Why are you avoiding me.’
‘I......don t want to speak to you. Please leave me alone’ Her voice sounded heavy
I caught her hand and pulled ,she swirled around and faced me.
“why’
‘ I feel akward. I made a fool of myself. I......’
‘That’s ok’
I moved forward and hugged her.We stood silently for some time.
‘ How did you know my answer is an yes’ she stood staring with a questioning eye.
I was speechless.She laughed and ran away with a twinkle in the eyes. Only then did I realise she had accepted my proposal.
At around 3 pm,I got an sms .’Meet you in library after classes.luv u ,Apps(I know U address me like this, though you have never told it to me even once).’
I waited till the classes were over. She was waiting at Financial Management section. I went there. She smiled and turned as if rummaging for a book.
“are you searching for any special book”
“Obviously,You know am waiting for you.Then.....’
‘ Why this library”
She giggled and went about rummaging again
Apps took a book and sat down . Rohan took a magazine.Thay chatted away for an hour or two little realising that it’s her parents strict order to be in the hostel by 6 pm.
They talked about everything under the sky except about themselves.
Later she returned to the hostel and the talks went over by sms. Dinner times had long gone by ,both of them never realised though roommates had reminded them.
Weekend they planned an outing along with friends, a movie and hanging around in the mall , they spend the entire day .Rohan was pampering Apps with all the goodies he found.Apps was enjoying every moment. Was this the life she craved for, Apps was ecstatic.
After few days Apps and Rohan went out alone as friends suggested “to know each other well”. They travelled the length and breadth of the city .Rohan was fully devoted to Apps that he rarely saw the scenic beauty. Apps was telling about her family ,her pets etc, Rohan liked the way she explained things and felt she is a attached to her family. Rohan told her about his parents and mainly his strict disciplinarian father.
‘Will he agree to our match. I hope he doesn‘t throw any tantrums.’
‘No , My mother will handle all that. I just have to convince her.’
Apps had doubts but she seemed relaxed at Rohan’s assurance. In her family that was not a problem, they will readily agree to this proposal.Her father had a liking towards Rohan from the first day, he usually enquires about him over phone. Often Apps had to try her best not to show emotions about Rohan over phone to her dad.
After the exams of 2nd semester, Rohan and Apps had taken a holiday at Goa, bunking from their homes.They had enjoyed the vacation exploring Goa and each other , thus bringing their relationship to another height. It was tough for Rohan to convince Apps for this journey but eventually she agreed. Those were the most memorable days ,they could imagine. Rohan treasured the photos and the moments were so romantic that he lived every moment again and again in his dreams , after they came back.
During the 3rd semester holidays, Rohan told his mother about their relationship.Amma had showed disagreement at first but after his repeated pleas gave in to it.Mr Sreedharan stormed the house and told at no cost he will allow a girl from other state to be his daughter in law.Rohan was devastated.
Days flew by,just before boarding the train back , he looked at his father and said’I will marry only her . it’s your wish either you agree or disagree. My decision is final. We would be happy if you would be beside me when I marry. Otherwise too I will marry her.’
Apps was waiting for Rohan. Though she was briefed on the proceedings over phone ,she wanted to hear everything live. Rohan came and sat next to Apps on the stone bench in front of their class.
“Acchan is adamant. He doesn’t understand. He never understood me. Everytime he forces things down my throat. Its hell man!’Rohan was in tears.
‘Its ok. By the end of the fourth sem he will agree.’Apps tried to console.
‘You don’t know him. He is stubborn. What if he never agrees? We will elope. Damn it, What to do’
‘Wait we have a whole sem with us. We will think about it later. Now tell did u miss me.I missed you so much’
‘No’
‘What’ Apps eyed were filling with tears.
‘Why. You know I did miss you. Apps , I am sorry.’
Eyes were brimming with tears, Apps got up to leave. Rohan pulled her back into his arms little realising this was the Special Officer’s Lecture hour.
Apps hugged Rohan expecting him to say something. But Rohan didn’t react. He was staring into SO’s eyes.
‘Oh Shit’
‘This is not permitted here. Do you understand’
Noding their heads they turned back and dashed into the classroom.
‘Real Guts man .That lady is a crap.Hope she leaves it with this.’Shameena said
SO entered the class. The hour went on rather silently .Everyone expected a lecture on the topic ‘how to behave in public.’ But she concentrated on the portions and finally a sigh of relief. She left.
During the study holidays, Apps came to the Boys hostel to study, a few hours with Rohan. But eventually the roommate left them alone as the hours extended to that whole night. Partly studying and partly enjoying the night went through.
Exams got over and both of them were placed in Top MNC’s .
Rohan again requested his father but the pleas fell on deaf ears.
Apps finally told her father about the situation. He intervened. Mr Chatterjee booked a flight to meet Mr Sreedharan in Thrissur.
Rohan landed home the day before Chatterjee was coming. His mother was scattering about asking the tastes of Bengali ,what to prepare, what not to and all. Rohan was scared of how his father may treat that man. Praying religiously, he fell asleep.
Early morning hearing the door bell Rohan sprang up. It may his future father in law. He peeped from the balcony and missed a beat , that was him.
Rohan asked his mother to open the door and flew into the bathroom. Within ten minutes he was downstairs. raising an eyebrow he asked his mother. She pointed to the closed library.
‘Bhayankara Discussion aanne. They both are in there. Ankita and You are getting married right. What they are discussing there. Ennike manasilakunnilla, ‘Amma remarked with a chuckle. Rohan smiled at her.
After an hour they both came out. Mr Chatterjee winked at Rohan, Acchan was having a crack jack expression, Though he smiled outwardly.
‘We are planning to go forward with this marriage as you both seemed to give us no choice.’
‘Next week your parents are coming to Kolkata to discuss the other prospects.’
Rohan stood simply and stared at them.Was this a dream or are they really speaking.
Acchan tapped on his shoulder only then Rohan realised it was a reality.
After a few turns of visits, Rohan and Ankita got married in the both the customs once as Bengali then as malayali.
Sitting in his room after all the customs waiting for his sweetheart, Rohan felt all is well that ends well.
Hearing the door open and lo behold his wife in traditional kerala saree with a glass of milk.
‘Apps, was this needed’
‘No one knows our first night was over long before. Your cousins grilled me , i told am very traditional and never will do anything like that .Howzzat.’
Laughing loudly he pulled her into his arms carefully seeing the milk didn’t spill over.

Author:Mrs Schabna Manilal

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