Touched down the Indian soil some three days back. We had to attend a cousins wedding at Chennai. The five hour drive was enough for all the Singapore stories to be shared with parents. When the discussions moved to general gossips and arguments of classical music vs English and how A R Rehman won an Oscar because of his muslim conversion….my mind drifted away – as usual. Suddenly there was an ambulance that overtook us somewhere on the highway. Our car was right behind the ambulance for some time, following it...
It felt like dejavu and I felt uncomfortable. It was bringing back memories that were buried deep inside… kind of opening a Pandora’s box. The sound of the ambulance siren ringing through my ears……..
Everyone has some things in life that they want to forget , some things they wish they had a chance to correct. I have two such things; thoughts about which brings me to tears every time I think about it. It’s not a new thing to admit that I am very emotionally attached to people who are part of my life. And I have some very strong bonding with my cousins , friends ,relatives and of course parents. Two of such very close relations were from my maternal side. One my mom’s eldest sisters husband, another my mom’s youngest sisters husband – my valliachan and chittappan respectively. Both were poles apart in their characters but common points – their love and affection for all and their names. Both were called Gopi in their respective families.
As a child I used to be scared of both; they were both huge, dark, wore glasses, little on the fatter side.
Whenever I think of Gopi valliachan , the picture that comes into my mind is he relaxing on a wooden easy chair at the family home - a “nalukettu “ - surrounded by books, an old radio playing some old Malayalam songs, lot of old photos hanging on the walls around him. The wooden table next to his chair would have a mud jug with water and occasionally he would call out – Omane….vellam eduthu tharu ( asking his wife to get him water). He was the head of my maternal side. He is the one who suggested names for me and Bhagya and our house in TVM. Summer vacations were partly spent collecting ripe juicy ripe mangoes from the estate behind the house, slicing them for him while listening to his stories- mostly his own life experiences. He would ask how we are doing in studies, make us press his legs to ease the pain. He was severely diabetic from the time I remember. So a lot of time was spent in hospitals during his post 60 lifespan. From his fat and tall authoritative figure he had crumbled into a thin skinny figure.
I remember I visited him after my wedding was fixed. The minute I met him he was like so u finally found your guy. “ Is he a tamilian? Good. At least your kids will be intelligent – pattaril pottanmar illa ennanu (means there are no fools among Brahmins) ” . I smiled. He continued - “ but remember to learn to make a good sambar to keep him happy – learn from your mother or valliamma “!! Both of us laughed.
Near to my wedding dates I learned that he was very sick, but was adamant to attend the wedding. In the whole mess of the wedding preparations and the elaborative ceremonies I was totally lost. I don’t even remember whom I met and whom I dint on the day of the wedding. There were just so many people. Shortly after the wedding we flew to Mauritius for our honeymoon and one of the four days there I dreamt about him. I woke and thought it was weird. Why would I dream about him anyways!! That too on my honeymoon.
Only after I reached back Bangalore after a good relaxation at Mauritius did I learn that my beloved valliachan had passed away the day I dreamt about him. I was shocked and couldn’t digest the news. My mom later informed me that he had made it to my wedding. But could not walk and climb up the mandap stairs. So he was there , outside the mandap, waiting in the car to bless me. Since the functions were elaborate and went through the day , after three four hours he had left. I don’t remember anyone telling me he was waiting outside. Maybe I missed hearing it in the state I was in. But to this day I haven’t been able to forgive myself. My poor valliachan travelled 3 hours in his deteriorating health, came to Tvm, waited outside for me to come out so he could see his new son in law – maybe share a few jokes about me….
If only I had one chance to go back and change it….if only I could just see him once more… but I can’t. I will take this regret to my grave…carry this burden on my shoulders for till I too join him one day.
Rewinding a few years back….I was in college.….
Gopi chittappan has only one son- Deepu chetan. So he is very fond of girls children in the family. He absolutely adored both me and Bhagya to the core. The fact that he was working from Tvm and used to stay at my place just brought all of us much more closer. I consider Deepu chetan as my own brother and chittappa as my own father. . I would sometimes listen to him, but not my own dad. Such was the emotional attachment.
Chittappan had a genetic disorder of copper content increasing in his blood regularly and had to be checked once in a while. It ran in his family. He had already lost 2 of his elder brothers to this disease. But from what I know of him, he was a fighter. A gentleman. Even with so many sorrows in life, he was one hell of a jovial person. I remember the first year of my college , after the fresher’s day , some useless senior from mechanical came and proposed to me. I was enacting all this in front of chittappa and daddy over the weekend. Daddy and chittappa were laughing their lungs out. So obviously it was depressing to see him getting admitted to hospital suddenly. He was building a house that time- his huge dream house. He wanted it to be really special and unique and chose each and everything required with passion. He had given me the responsibility of landscape designing. He had a brilliant plan in mind - there would be a small pool in a corner of the garden with a mock waterfall . This water would flow under the glass steps at the entrance of the house and so many things more. We had almost finalized on a draft plan when he was admitted to the hospital. The house warming ceremony was fixed in 2 weeks, so we were hoping he would get discharged soon.
One day evening there was a call from mom, her voice shaky and broken. She just managed to say – he passed away. I was numb. I dint know how to react. Bhagya had started weeping already. I was worried about Deepu chetan and kunjamma – they were my first thoughts. How are they going to handle. My heart felt heavy but I dint cry.
Dad n mom reached home in ten minutes to take us to hospital. Dad just walked into the bedroom and began sobbing uncontrollably. mom was consoling him. It was the second time I saw my dad in tears – the first time was when he lost his own father. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. Slowly emotions started to pour out. His body was being taken to Adoor to be cremated at his dream home – a day before the house warming!! What an irony! We were following the ambulance all the way in our car. The sound of the ambulance siren ringing……
“Dhanya – are u asleep?” – Rajiv was asking in the car and I time travelled back to present. We had almost reached the vellore… I smiled n replied saying I was ok.
I don’t think I have overcome the loss of chittappa. To this day , whenever I go to that house and see his photo hanging on the wall, I feel a lump inside my throat. My eyes fill up with tears. There is no pool and waterfall – just some weeds where it was all planned. I try to tell him that I miss him badly and wish he was around.
He just smiles back at me.
No comments:
Post a Comment