Mom and Dad were once kids too! - Part 1

One major thing that happened with the pandemic was that many of us remained home bound for a long time. In my case, this also coincided with the break I took to write my books. Mom, Dad and I started to have lunch together and I fell into the habit of saying, 'Tell me a story from your childhood'. And I discovered such a wealth of stories that some of them might just find their way into the stories I write. :D

Both Mom and Dad have had tough lives, filled with hardships. Plus, they are Mallus from Kerala, brought up on a steady diet of tragic films from the 1950s to the 1980s. Their idea of entertainment is to watch soaps filled with weeping, helpless protagonists or share some tragedy from the day's newspaper. 

So, when I asked them to tell me something from their childhood, I was clear that I wanted only fun stories. They struggled in the beginning. So I started asking them specific questions: 'What happened at school?', 'Who were your playmates and what did you do?', 'What mischief had you been up to?' and so on...

Now, anyone who meets Dad sees this ever-smiling, kind sage who cannot harm a fly. [Literally! Cockroach, rat, centipede... any of these uninvited guests enter the house and he gently escorts them out on a newspaper. :D] So, it was interesting to learn that he bunked school all the time. And also, that he and his troop of friends would hire one bicycle among the six of them and stay out all night in Panan's Paramb [an orchard that belonged to the Panan family and which lay bare] to learn to cycle. These excursions took place on full moon nights because at that time there was no electricity in Elavally, their village. Allow me to clarify... from 8 in the evening to 4 the next morning! And they were all of 10 years of age!

Dad thought this was eminently reasonable for he pointed out, 'Each of us got only half an hour to learn, then we had to wait till the other five were done. So, we got our turn only every 2.5 hours!" I was aghast when I questioned him, "But then, you didn't allow any of us to break curfew! You'd start getting antsy, call us, get increasingly angry and then threaten to lock us out of the house when we got late!"

So, how does Dad respond? He grins his sweet smile and says, "It's different when you become a Daddy." And of course that puts a full stop to any further discussion. Because how do you reply to that? :D

Now Mom's turn. Point to note. Mom used to stay with her mother and grandmother, mainly since both were teachers who were posted in distant places. By the time of this story, Mom's mother had become the principal of a school though from secondary onwards Mom studied in another school. 

Mom was two years younger for her grade. So there she was all of 12 in the 9th grade when school was let out early. Kids lined up at the verandah watching the dark sky and the falling rain. Mom took one look at the ominous sky and thought it would only get worse so she had better start off for home right away.

The sky was dark, heavy and scary. [You really have to experience a thunderstorm in the heavy foliage of rural Kerala to realize how truly scary it can be. The ground trembles with thunderclaps that make you start then sets your heart pounding while lightning tears the sky apart.] 

Mom had just gone barely a few steps from the school when suddenly there was a blinding flash of light in front of her eyes and she screwed her eyes shut against the lightning that had struck close to where she had been. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised that they were not burnt to the crisp, so strong had been the flash. 

Disbelievingly I interjected, "Ha! You couldn't have walked with lightning falling around you. You wouldn't survive it!"

But Dad put in, in his gentle way, "But it did happen all the time. When you walk through the rain, you can feel the sizzle around your legs from lightning falling close by. We were used to it."

I may have taken Mom's narration with a pinch of salt because we call her 'dhaap' [teller of tall tales] for a reason [and yeah, I get it from her! :P]. It also makes her a good storyteller. However, Dad does not exaggerate, so aghast though I was, I had to take his word.

Mom being Mom, apparently she just continued on her way [this, I have no trouble in believing!]. Along the way, she was joined by a schoolmate, Snehaprabha, who was the only one to live along Mom's route. Now, Mom's school was in Kalpakanchery which was a long way off from her home in Kanmanam. All through childhood I have heard tales of how she ran across rocks to get to her school. She was a veritable goat. No exaggeration for she also tends to munch on leaves along her way just like them!

Anyway, in the heavy deluge both girls made their way over the rocks behind their school then through the narrow village alley bracketed by rocks, crossed the Panthavoor paadam [paddy fields belonging perhaps to the Panthavoor family] using the varamb [narrow path between paddy fields] and came to the small, stone bridge that spanned a stream. Normally, they would have been able to cross the bridge over the deep stream, with water sloshing just their feet. But that day, by the time, they reached the stream, they saw that it was in full spate. There was no sign of the bridge which lay submerged.

The stream was about 12-15-feet wide, deeper than a person could stand and flowed to the sea. Both girls were scared that if they tried to cross it, they would be swept out to the sea. Snehaprabha started bawling for there was no help in sight with vast fields stretching out, as far as the eyes can see. Now, Mom has no patience with weeping and wailing when something needs to be done. And she found no way out except to go on. [Did I mention that Mom's determination knows little bounds?] 

She told Snehaprabha, "Now, stop crying and just tightly hold on to me and we'll get across.' The water was waist high and the girls carried their books and umbrellas in one hand while holding on to each other with the other. With great difficulty, they used their bare feet to hold on to the ground below and made their way across the stream, braving wind, water, rain and lightning. 

Once on firm ground again, Snehaprabha went her way and Mom continued on her journey till she finally reached home, drenched and dripping. That was when she realized that her grandmother had gone away to collect her pension which is why she had not turned up at school to pick her up which she would have normally done on such a day. 

You'd think at the end of this story, there would be some exultation over their courage, right? But no, the elders were not home and Mom is not the kind to talk much [I've often likened her to a character from an indie movie, where the camera just spends a lot of time looking at the character looking out of the window or at the revolving fan or... you get my drift, right? :D]. And so, Dad and I might have been the first people to hear this story after all these years. All because I asked. Considering asking questions is my specialty, I'll be asking many more questions and there will be more stories to follow. :D

Photo by Raychel Sanner