태그 아카이브: 말라얄람어

힘든 사랑의 또 다른 펜 스토리

내 좋아하는 삼촌이 나에게 펜을 준 후. 이 삼촌은 그 당시 인도 육군의 군인이었다. 병사들은 매년 또는 이렇게 몇 달 집에 와서하는 데 사용, 과 확장 된 가족 모두에게 선물을 줄. 모든 일에 대한 자격의 감각이 있었다, 그리고 그들은 아마도뿐만 아니라 다시 뭔가를 줄 수있는 선물 응시자에 발생하지 않습니다. 지난 수십 년 동안, 일 변경. 선물 응시자는 풍부한 주변에 몰려 것 “만 Malayalees” (중동에서 Keralite 이주 노동자) 따라서 심각하게 가난한 군인의 사회적 지위를 감소.

어떻게해서든지, 삼촌에게서 얻은이 펜 크레스트라는 브랜드의 잘 생긴 매트 골드 표본이었다, 아마도 히말라야의 산기슭에서 중국 국경을 통해 밀수와 삼촌이 조달. 난 내이 소중히 소유의 매우 자랑스럽게 생각, 내 생각으로 내가 나중에 년 내 모든 재산의되었습니다. 하지만 펜은 오래 지속되지 않았다 — 그것은 내가 여름에 검사 도중 책상을 공유했다 누구와 함께 오래된 소년에 의해 도난있어 1977.

나는 손실에 의해 유린. 그 이상, 나는 그녀가 그에게 친절하게 걸릴 것되지 않았 음을 알고 내 어머니가 알려주는 두려워했다. 나는 내가 더 조심 했어야 추측 항상 내 사람에 펜을 보관. 과연, 엄마는 그녀의 오빠로부터이 선물의 손실에 분노 납빛했다. 힘든 사랑의 지지자, 그녀는 펜을 찾아 가서 나에게 말했다, 그것없이 반환하지. 지금, 그 위험한 움직임이었다. 어떤 엄마가 감사하지 않은 것은 말 그대로 가장 지시했다이었다. 나는 아직도. 내 희망이 잘못된에 출발 할 때 이미 늦은 저녁이었다, 그리고 내가이 가정되지 이후 나는 전혀 반환 것 같지는했다, 하지 펜없이.

아빠는 몇 시간 후에 집에 도착, 및 이벤트의 전환기에 충격을 받았다. 그는 확실히 힘든 사랑을 믿지 않았다, 멀리에서. 아니면 그 사람이 내 문자 처분의 감각을 가지고 있었다, 그것의 피해자 인 한 이전. 어떻게해서든지, 그는 나를 찾고 와서 내 갇혀 학교 주위에 목적없이 집에서 몇 가지 십km 방황 발견.

육아는 균형 행위이다. 당신은 힘든 사랑을 행사해야, 당신의 아이가 생활에서 나중에 가혹한 세계에 대한 준비를하지 않을까. 아이가 정서적으로 안전한 느낄 수 있도록뿐만 아니라 사랑과 애정을 표시해야. 당신은 overindulgent없이 당신의 자녀에게 제공해야, 또는 당신이 그들을 망치고 끝낼 것. 당신은 성장을 그들에게 자유와 공간을 제공해야, 하지만 당신은 분리와 무관 심한되어서는 안. 많은 차원에 오른쪽 피치에 당신의 행동을 조정하는 마스터 어려운 예술을 양육 만드는 것입니다. 무엇 정말 무서운 만드는 것은 당신이 그것을 하나의 기회를 얻을 사실이다. 당신이 만약 틀렸을 경우, 당신이 상상할 수있는 것보다 당신의 오류의 잔물결 많이 더 오래 지속될 수있다. 그와 함께 화가에 도착했을 때 한 번, 내 아들 (그의 육년보다 훨씬 더 현명 다음) 내가 조심해야한다고 나에게 말했다, 그는 자신의 아이들이 길을 처리 할 것이기 그를 처리. 그러나, 우리는 이미 알고, 우리는하지 않습니다?

어머니는 용서 현실 세계 날을 준비 않았다, 내 아버지는 나를 충분히 친절을 양성. 조합은 아마도 너무 나쁘지 않다. 하지만 우리 모두 싶습니다 우리 부모님보다 더 잘 할. 내 경우, 내 아이의 내에 행동과 치료를 조절하는 간단한 트릭을 사용. 나는 상기 처리의 수신 측에서 자신을 사진하려고. 나는에 대한 uncared 또는 부당하게 처리 생각해야하는 경우, 동작은 미세 조정이 필요.

그것은 일반적 사후 오기 때문에이 트릭은 모든 시간을 작동하지 않습니다. 우리는 먼저 상황에 응답하여 작동, 우리는 합리적인 비용 편익 분석을 할 시간이되기 전에. 바로 일을 다른 방법이 있어야합니다. 그것은 인내와 친절을 많이 개발 단지 질문 할 수 있음. 당신은 알고, 시간 때이 있습니다 나는 내 아버지에게 수 있으면 좋겠다.

눈 포수

오랜 시간 전, my teenage gang saw a pretty girl whom we called the Eye Catcher. One of my friends in the gang insists that he came up with the name, although I distinctly remember that it was I who first used it. I remember because it was from the last page of India Today of the time, which had a column titled “Eye Catchers.” But my friend has always been more articulate than me, and it is quite possible that he coined the catchy name without any help from India Today.

Time has flown, and today has become yesterday. During the years spanning that age of innocence and now, whenever our gang met up (once a year or so in the beginning, once a decade of late), the Eye Catcher was a topic that always came up. And once, one of us wondered if we would talk about her if we met at the age of fifty, which was incomprehensibly far away then. (다시, I think I was the one who came up with it; may be I like to take credit for every witty thing that happened around me.)

Now with the distant fifty just around the corner, I wonder. Was it the prism of adolescence that amplified beauty, or was she really that eye-catching? 지금, 물론, the ravages of time would have surely dulled any beauty she may have possessed, and made cynics of the beholders prompting them to consider prisms of adolescence and ravages of time. I think I prefer not to know the answer. Often the blurry pictures with fading colors are more beautiful than the garish reality in high definition.

It is similar to the scratchy Malayalam songs I listen to in my car. My English-speaking family laughs at me whenever I do. 그들에게, the lyrics don’t make sense, the beat is silly, and the sweet melody of Yesudas is almost gross, like cold pancakes swimming in stale syrup. I don’t blame them. Even to me, it is not just the words and the sounds that bind my heart to the songs; it is the fading colors of the past. It is the faces and scenes that the songs bring to mind, like the smell of June rain, the orange hue of the muddy potholes, and the tall coconut trees against blue skies and white cumulus, gently swaying their heads in assent to whatever adventures the day had in store. And the faces of the simple souls who played out their part on that stage of life and bowed out. Memories of a paradise lost.

But those players played their part well enough to imprint themselves on the songs for good. And with the twilights peeping over the horizon now, I often wonder — what am I going to leave behind? 당신이 무엇입니까?

싱가포르에서 파커 펜

지난 세기 초 동안, 중국과 인도의 중요한 이동은 싱가포르에 있었다. 인도 출신 이민자의 대부분은 소수 민족 타밀이었다, 타밀어가 공식 언어가 여기있는 이유입니다. 그러나 일부에서 온 내 말라얄람어-케 랄라의 조국을 말하기. 그 중 Natarajan를 누구, 오십년 이상, 의 저와 함께 공유 할 자신의 노출 Netaji 수 바시 찬드라 보스 그리고는 대의 인도 국립 육군. Natarajan를는 것, 그때까지, 싱가포르 할아버지 호출 (싱가포르 Appuppa), 나에게 요가를 가르 칠, 그것의 신비 측면을 조금 설명, 같은 말 것, “요가의 실천, 그는 군중에있는 경우에도, 그것의 아주 일부가 아닙니다.” 직장에서 내 친구가 내가 그대로 걸어 댓글을 달았 때이 문을 기억 (가지 쇼생크 탈출에서 팀 로빈스 등) 기업의 한바탕 소동으로, 하는, 물론, 내가 게으른 호출하는 정중 한 방법일지도 모른다.

어떻게해서든지, 싱가포르 할아버지 (내 아버지의 할아버지 사촌) 아버지의 아주 좋아했다, 케 랄라의 그 부분에서 첫 번째 대학 졸업생 중 한 사람이었다. 그는 졸업 선물로 싱가포르에서 그에게 파커 펜을 가지고. 일부 나중에 15 년, 이 펜은 나에게 아직 완전히에 40 년 배운되지 않은 교훈을 가르 칠 것.

My father was very proud of his pen, 품질 및 sturdiness, 한 번 자신의 친구에게 자랑했다. “I wouldn’t be able to break it, even if I wanted to!” 고 말했다, 그의 아들 몰래 (당신의 충실), 4 년 모두 다음이 종류의 가상 조건문의 제한된 이해. 다음 저녁, 그는 직장에서 돌아 왔을 때, 내가 문에서 그를 기다리고 있었다, 긍지와 함께 전송 해, 자신의 소중한 펜을 들고 철저하게 분쇄. “아빠, 아빠, 내가 해냈어! 나는 당신을 위해 펜을 깰 관리!”

마음 깨진 나의 아버지가되어 있어야합니다, 그는 심지어 자신의 목소리를 제기하지 않았다. 그는 질문, “왜 그런 짓을 한거야, 그의?” 지나치게 애정 말라얄람어 단어를 사용하여 “그의”. 내가 설명에만 너무 싶어했다. “You said yesterday that you had been trying to break it, 하지만 수. 나는 당신을 위해 그것을했다!” 언어 능력에 오히려 짧은, 이미 물리학에 조금 너무 긴. I had placed the pen near the hinges of a door and used the lever action by closing it to accomplish my mission of crushing it. 사실, 나는 내 아내에게 설명하려고했던이 사건을 기억 (물리학에 짧은) 왜 도어 스토퍼는 힌지에 가까운 바닥 타일을 깨는보다는 문을 중지했다 배치.

My father tried to fix his Parker pen with scotch tape (그 시간에 셀로판 테이프를 호출 한) 고무 밴드. 나중에, 그는 아주 누출 잉크를 해결하지 수 있지만 펜의 몸을 교체 관리. 난 여전히 펜을, 무한한 인내심이 영원한 교훈.

두 반 년 전, 아버지가 세상을 떠났다. 계속되는 성찰 중, this close friend of mine asked me, “음, 지금 당신은 무엇이 알고, 당신은 당신이하고있는 생각 얼마나 잘?” 내가 아니라 그 일을하고 생각하지 않습니다, 일부 수업, 심지어 완전히 알았을 때, 실제로 넣어 너무 어렵다.

사진 : dailylifeofmojo cc

Moonwalkers

It is one of the many conspiracy theories — that the moon landing never really took place. How could the flag flutter? The pictures — were they really taken on the moon, or in a studio in Navada?

Here is a different theory. A little known fact. The photo wasn’t totally fake. It is just that NASA showed only half the picture. Check this out:
Look at the shadows below .
Have you ever noticed them before ?

Click here (or on the image) to see the whole picture!

The Worldly Malayalees

If an average Singaporean hears of the World Malayalee Conference, the first thing they would say is, “World what now??” Malayalees are people from the tiny Indian state of Kerala. They are not to be confused with Malays, although some of the things we associate with Malay (such as pratas and biriyani) can be traced back to Kerala.

Such cross cultural exchanges point to an important trait of Malayalees. They tend to fan out and, in their own small ways, conquer the world. They also welcome external influences whole-heartedly. They are perhaps the only people (other than the Chinese, 물론) who regularly use a Chinese wok for cooking or a Chinese net for catching their fish. They even practise their own version of Kung-fu, and at times insist that the Chinese actually learned it from them.

International and cosmopolitan in their unique ways for thousands of years, Malayalees are a mixture of opposites, and Kerala a minor economic and sociological enigma. Malayalees enthusiastically embraced Christianity and Muslim religions when their initial missionaries and emissaries ventured outside their places of origin. 하지만, they also welcomed Marxism and atheism with equal fervour.

On an average, Kerala has a per-capita income among the world’s poorest, but all other economic indicators are on a par with the world’s richest. In health indicators such as life expectancy, per-capita number of doctors, and infant mortality, Kerala manages to mirror the US at about a tenth of its per capita wealth. Kerala is the first (and perhaps the only) third world province to boast of better than 90% literacy, and is just about the only place in India and China with more women than men.

Singapore has a special place in the Malayalee heart. Among their initial ventures outside Kerala during the colonial era, Malayalees targeted Singapore as a popular destination. Perhaps due to this historical fondness, Malayalees found it natural to host their World Malayalee Conference here.

Singapore also has soft spot for Malayalees and their contributions. The conference itself will be graced by the presence of the President of Singapore, 씨. 에스. R. Nathan and the Minister of Foreign Affairs, 씨. George Yeo. President Nathan will launch the Malayalee Heritage and Culture Exhibition, and Minister Yeo will give a key note speech at the Business Forum.

The heritage and culture, dating back to well over two thousand years, is something every Malayalee is rightfully proud of. The Exhibition will showcase everything from cave engravings to ancient ship building technology.

Going beyond the historical and cultural affinities, Kerala also has been a business ally to Singapore, especially in raw seafood. 싱가포르, in their own right, has provided a steady stream of investments and tourists to Kerala.

Eco-tourism is indeed one of the top attractions Malayalees will showcase during the conference. Nature has been overly kind to Kerala, with the undulating hills of the Western Ghat generously usurping the Monsoons and jealously guarding the Malayalees against any possible plunder of their green riches. Blessed with a temperate climate uncommon to the tropical enclave that it is, and with the hypnotic beauty of the misty green hillsides and tea plantations, Kerala is indeed a paradise waiting, perhaps unwillingly, to be discovered.

This World Malayalalee Conference, with its cultural shows and heritage exhibitions, will display what Kerala has to offer to the world, from tourism and culture to business opportunities and talent pool. It will also showcase Singapore to the Malayalee diaspora and teach them a thing or two about administrative efficiency, cleanliness and business connectivity.

Are You a Malayali?

If you can fit four passengers in the front seat of an Ambassador taxi, while in the back there are eight passengers and two children with their heads sticking out the window, chances are, you are a Mallu going to attend your cousin’s wedding.

If you can run, ride a 100 cc motorbike without wearing a helmet and play football all while wearing a lungi tied halfmast, Malayali status!

If your late father left you a part of an old house as your inheritance, and you turned it into “chaya kada,” 예, you’re a Malayali.

If you have more than 5 relatives working in Gulf, Big Time Malayali…

If you have the words “Chinchu Mol + Jinchu Mol” written on the rear window of your Omni car, 예, you 아르 a Malaayli.

If you refer to your husband as “Kettiyon, ithiyan, pillerude appan,” guess what — you’re a central Travancore Syrian Christian Malayali.

If you have a Tamilian parked in front of your house every Sunday, ironing your clothes, chances are a you are a Middle Class Malayali.

If you have more than three employee trade unions at your place of work, then ask no more, you are indeed a Malayali.

If you have voted into power a Chief Minister who has not passed the 4th grade then ask no further, YOU ARE A MALAYALI.

If you have at least two relatives working in the US in the health industry , 예! Malayali!

If you religiously buy a lottery ticket every week, then you’re in the Malayali Zone!

If you describe a woman as “charrakku,” yep, Malayali!

If you constantly refer to banana as “benana” or pizza as “pissa,” you’re a Malayali..

If you use coconut oil instead of refined vegetable oil and can’t figure out why people in your family have congenital heart problems, you might be a Malayali.

If you are going out to see a movie at the local theater with your wifey wearing all the gold jewellry gifted to her by her parents, you are a newly married Malayali.

If you and your wife and three children dress up in your Sunday best and go out to have biriyani at Kayikka’s on a 100 cc Bajaj mobike, you an upwardly mobile Malayali from Cochin.

If your idea of haute cuisine is kappa and meen curry, 그때, 예, you are a Malayali.

If you have beef puttu for breakfast, beef olathu for lunch, and beef curry with ‘borotta’ for dinner, yeah, definitely Malalyali.

If your name is Wislon, and your wife’s name is Baby, and you name your daughter Wilby, have no doubts at all, you are a standard Malayali.

If most of the houses on your block are painted puke yellow, fluorescent green, and bright pink, definitely Malappuram Malayali.

If you tie a towel around your head and burst into a raucous rendition of the song “Kuttanadan Punjayile” after having three glasses of toddy, then you are a hardcore Malayali.

If you call appetizers served with alcoholic beverages as “touchings,” then you are one helluva Malayali.

If the local toddy shop owner knows you by your pet name and you call him “Porinju Chetta” (kekekekekek), then you are true Malayali.

If you’re sick and your wifey rubs “Bicks” into your nostrils and gives you “kurumulaku rasam” with chakkara, (grandma’s recipe) to help relieve your symptoms, damn!! You’re Malayali.

IF YOU DON’T NEED ANY EXPLANATIONS FOR ANY OF THE ABOVE, YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE THE REAL McCOY, A BLUE BLOOD MALAYALI. LAAL SALAAM.

And the Wind Whispered…

[This post is my translation of an excellent short story by one of the most gifted storytellers of our time, O.V.Vijayan. The translation from Malayalam is a feeble effort, because such distant translations are not merely between languages, but cultures. The untranslatable expressions are marked with asterisks. Enjoy!]

Reached Kanjikad from Palghat by Coimbatore street. From there on, it was unpaved dirt road to the mountains. Even the rough taxi Jeep found that hard to take. This was Theyunni’s second trip here in the last ten years and he had no complaints about the roughness now.

“Ditch ahead”, Driver said, glancing at the dirt road in front.

“If you want to stop here, it’s okay”, Theyunni offered, “I can walk.”

It’s about two miles from here. Accustomed as he was to the comfort of limousine rides between airports and star hotels, the prospect of the hard hike did not discourage Theyunni.

“Nah. We’ll go slow, sit tight.”

“Okay.”

The Jeep carefully negotiated the winding mountain road. Theyunni glanced at the wild valley as if for the first time. The sunshine cooled by the hillside, the east winds tunnelled through the mountain passes and roaring towards Palghat…

“The trees are all gone, aren’t they, Driver?”, Theyunni observed.

“All downed. Was forests here till about five years ago. Elephants used to come down.”

예, last time when he was here, there were huge trees on either side. Trees he didn’t know the names of. There were crickets all around carrying on with their shrill orchestra. Theyunni recalled that journey. He was coming back to Bombay after a European trip and his wife was at the airport. 그녀는 말했다, “There is a letter from home, looks like *Brother’s handwriting.”

“Wonder what is happening. Didn’t you open it, Phoebe?”

“You know I don’t open your letters.”

When the car was moving towards Juhu, Theyunni stole a glance at Phoebe’s face behind the wheel. Like a flawless marble sculpture with golden hair dancing in the wind. It was against her culture to open her husband’s letters. There were many things in her culture that attracted him — her confident courage in kissing him in that garden few years ago, proclaiming, “I love you”. If the relationship were to turn sour in the years to come, the honesty and integrity that would make her say, “I do not love you any more, we have to get divorced”. These were the challenges that inspired him. He remembered the journey home to tell *Father that he was in love with Phoebe, his fellow-student at Stanford. Father did not say anything against it, just smiled his sweet, thoughtful smile. 그것은이었다 *Mother — “We had Devaki’s horoscope looked at…”

Devaki was a distant relative. The daughter of some in-land farmer. Hiding his contempt for horoscopes, Theyunni comforted Mother, “That is not much, Mother. We didn’t give our word.”

Nobody said anything for a while. Then Mother said, “Isn’t understanding as big as word? It’s like Devaki has married you in her heart.”

“It’s the boy’s decision, Madhavi,” Father said, “Why do you want to say this and that?”

Mother withdrew herself, “I didn’t say anything…”

“Don’t worry about Mother’s complaints, Kutta. 그래서, do you like this Phoebe?”

Theyunni was a little embarrassed, “Yes.”

“Will an American girl like to live in this old family house of ours, Kutta?”, Mother inquired.

“Why wouldn’t she?”

Father said, “It’s not as though they are going to come live here, 그것은이다?”

“So Father and Son have decided that as well,” Mother said, “that they don’t want to live here?”

“Wherever we live, we’ll come here first, Mother.”

Theyunni saw Mother’s eyes well up. After blessing Phoebe and wishing Devaki well in her life, Mother said, “I won’t ask you to change your mind. 하지만, will you look after Father, Kutta?”

“Of course.”

“You remember how he used to be? His body is getting old…”

Father intervened again with his smile, “Madhavi, why do you say such things and make him unhappy? Don’t pay any attention to her, Kutta.”

Even during the novelty of his love, Theyunni could feel *Devaki’s true meaning in his *rustic heart — the farmer bride who would sweep the floor and light the evening lamp. Mother said, “There was only one thing on my mind — your sister-in-law is not able-bodied. If it had been Devaki, there was a hope that she would look after your father in his old age…”

Theyunni didn’t say anything then. Even in the later years, he couldn’t say anything about that. Phoebe, who never opened her husband’s letters, drove skillfully through the streets of Juhu. When Father fell sick years after the marriage, Phoebe advised, “Your little town is actually a village. Why don’t we take him to a good hospital in a city? We can easily afford that.”

What Father needed was nearness and touch to die peacefully. Theyunni came home alone with those and saw him off. Mother also died in the old family house. Phoebe was back at Stanford then. She sent a formal condolence telegram. *Devaki‘s meaning again filled his mind.

In Juhu, Theyunni read Brother’s letter. “I’m not doing too well, Kutta. Just to let you know. I won’t ask you to take time off your busy schedule and come by these forests. Just think of me, same effect as seeing. Didn’t even let Sreekumar know. I was worried that he might get anxious and take a trip — not easy to come here from Cambridge, 그것은이다? If only your sister-in-law had been alive… Weaknesses of an old heart…”

The Jeep continued it’s laborious journey negotiating an occasional ditch and gutter.

“Sorry about the trouble, Driver,” Theyunni tried to comfort the driver.

“Nah, just doing my job.”

Must be another mile from here. It was after his wife’s death that Brother decided to resign from service and move to the high lands. Theyunni vehemently opposed that decision. “Why are you moving to this god-forsaken land in Palghat among leopards and wild boars? 또한, you could be in service for another 10 년. Even after retiring, you know that a nuclear physicist can do so many things…”

Brother’s reply came, “There are debts that one owes — to one’s country, one’s community, one’s family. I feel that I have repaid my dues to the best of my ability. There are some other obligations that I have to take care of. That’s is why I’m seeking refuge in these valleys.”

Brother never mentioned what those obligations were. Theyunni didn’t inquire either.

The soft-spoken Brother took a decision only after much reasoning; it was not easy to make him go back on them. 나중에, Brother wrote about his camp-site: about four miles off the road, there were fertile lands lying just outside the woods. Brother built a house there, among coconut palms, vegetables, mango trees… Dirt walls, wooden ceiling and roofs of clay tiles. It was at some distance from anywhere. 그러나, there was a farmer, Ponnuswami, living in a hut nearby. Brother could ask Ponnuswami for help if needed. Apart from that, he was quite alone in that valley. Theyunni could not figure out the meaning of that penance and forgot about it. Years went by. But when Phoebe handed over that unopened letter, he suddenly felt that he should go there in a hurry.

“음, Phoebe, I’ll go and see what’s going on.”

“What is the name of that place? Kanjikad, 그것을하지 않습니다?”

“Yes.”

“Brother had invited me to go and see the mountains.”

“예, I remember.”

“Must be a perfect place for get-away vacation. But it’s dangerous to get sick there. Why don’t you bring him here? We could have him treated at Jeslock or something.”

Phoebe was repeating her suggestion on treatments. Theyunni remembered the last time the suggestion was offered and it made him uneasy.

“We can’t get inside his mind, Phoebe. I’ll go there and see.”

That was how Theyunni came here for the first time, ten years ago. Not only was he anxious about Brother’s health and solitary life, he also wanted to give Brother a piece of his mind about the untimely penance. When he took a taxi from Coimbatore airport to go to Kanjikad, his mind was filled with impatience and hard feelings towards Brother. The driver got discouraged by the sight of ditches and gutters in the dirt road. It didn’t take too much to provoke Theyunni.

“I could break the axile if I drove up this way,” complained the driver who was Tamil.

“How much does this stupid car of yours cost?”

“Sorry Sir, didn’t mean to…”

“If your car breaks, let it break. I’ll give you what it costs. Drive.”

When he got off the car, Theyunni saw Brother taking a walk in the field — looking bright and healthy.

“Why did you come all this way, Kutta?”, Brother commented on the advisability of the trip.

“You can say that. Living in the forests, writing letters about getting sick, how could I ignore it?”

“Come in.” Brother took him inside the house.

Theyunni looked around and found everything unsatisfactory. “Why do you punish yourself like this?”

“Do I look as though this is punishment?”

Nobody said anything for a while. Then Theyunni inquired, “Who treated you while you were ill?”

“Teat?! Nobody!”

“What am I supposed to say about that?”

Brother smiled, “You don’t get it, 당신에게 할, Kutta?”

“What do you do for food?”

“I have asked Ponnuswami’s wife to show up. To cook something for you. Me, this is all I eat.”

He pointed to the husks of two young coconuts in the basket. “That was breakfast. Two more for dinner.”

“That is you diet?!”

“Not just diet, medicine as well!”

When it got dark, Theyunni wanted to know, “Brother, what if some thieves show up?”

Brother laughed heartily, “Four white *mundu, four cotton shawls, two towels and some clay pots. That’s all this house holds. The thief is quite peaceful by nature, it’s our avarice that makes him do this and that!”

After dinner, they laid down to sleep — 바닥에, on sleeping mats. For Theyunni, it was the first time in a long while without the air conditioner. The winds roared outside the house. Through the mountain passes, like the loud waves in an uptide.

“Kutta”

“예, Brother?”

“You hear that?”

“The winds, 바로?”

“예, but to you hear them?”

“예, 내가 할. Why do you ask?”

Brother was silent for a while in the darkness. Then he said, “하지, you don’t hear them.”

It was with the same dissatisfaction at Brother’s life in the wilderness that Theyunni went back to Bombay. Brother said, seeing him off, “It was a mistake, Kutta. A weakness. Felt like writing to you when I was ill; I won’t bother you like this again. There aren’t any illnesses that these valleys can’t cure. And if there are, do humans have medicines for them?”

지금, it was ten years after those words that Theyunni was coming back. Phoebe was not with him any more. She showed her natural honesty and told him that the love between them had dried out. Theyunni did not fly from Bombay. He took the train to Palghat along with numerous other people. Like in his childhood, in second class. Two day journey. Hills and woods and rivers and villages slowly went by in the window as the train ambled towards Palghat. The old family house was no longer there. So he rested in a hotel and set out for Kanjikad the next morning. His gruffiness during the last journey ten years ago had disappeared now. Theyunni felt that his peacefulness was spreading to the fellow passengers and even the landscapes.

The Jeep driver also was friendliness personified.

“Hard trip, 그것을하지 않습니다, Driver?”

“Nah, we are quite used to these. A little worried about your trouble, that is all.”

Brother’s fences and steps appeared at a distance.

“Over there, Driver.”

“Isolated house, 그것을하지 않습니다, Sir?”

“Yes.”

Ponnuswami was waiting by the house. He stepped down to welcome Theyunni. They looked at each other; Ponnuswami wiped his tears.

“He had asked me not to telegram, that is why I wrote a letter instead.” Ponnuswami said, “I am sorry.”

“Not at all, you were respecting Brother’s wishes. I understand.”

Ponnuswami walked over to the backyard. There was a small plot where a Thulasi plant was beginning to take root. Ash remnants of the pyre around it.

“This is it,” Ponnuswami said. “The bones were dropped in the Peroor river. If there are some other rituals you want to do… 하지만,…”

“예, Ponnuswami?”

“He said that no rituals were necessary. That he had uprooted the rituals. I am not educated, just thought that he was talking about some sacred state.”

“That must be what he meant.”

“Is Sreekumar coming up?”

“I had telephoned him from Bombay. He is not coming. He had told me one thing — that this land and house are for you.”

Ponnuswami had gone beyond such earthly things. “He also had told me the same thing; I didn’t want to tell you. 하지만, I don’t need any of this. You or Sreekumar could sell these…”

“Brother’s wishes, Ponnuswami. We must respect them.”

“음, if you insist.”

“How many children do you have?”

“Four.”

“음, this will be a good place for them to grow up in.”

Ponnuswami bowed once again, “If you ever want to come back and live here, my family and I will get out of here for you.”

“That won’t be necessary, Ponnuswami.”

I don’t deserve to live here, Theyunni said to himself. They got back into the house.

“You take rest. I will get you a young coconut from the fields.”

“The driver is waiting in the Jeep outside. Ask him to come inside and have something to drink.”

When Ponnuswami brought the young coconuts, Theyunni said, “You can go home now, if you like. I’m fine.”

Ponnuswami left. Theyunni said to the driver. “Do you think you can stay here overnight?”

The driver expressed his disagreement through silence.

“Didn’t plan that way when we set out,” Theyunni said. “This is Brother’s house. I came here because he died, couldn’t get here before.”

The driver turned attentive. Theyunni continued, “Feel like sleeping here for a night.”

The driver’s disagreement melted away silently. “I can stay.”

“I can pay you whatever you want for staying.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Time turned red and went down on the hilltops. Theyunni went inside and went through Brother’s wooden box. Three white mundu’s, laundered, three cotton shawls and two towels. Theyunni’s sadness dripped into them. When he went to bed, he was not sad any more, a kind of gratified grief. A fulfillment of love and traditions. He slept with the childhood dreams of fairy tales. Late in the night, he woke up. He listened to the music of the winds. After this night, it would be the trip back to the city. Theyunni could feel Brother’s kindness in the winds. The winds muttered the unknown *Manthras that marked the end of that kindness and life, some *distant baby voices… A night full of sacred whispers, this was the *justification of lifetime.

Theyunni listened to the whispers and slept, awaiting the morning.