Amazon Best Selling Novel “Malabar A Flame” in Lima World Library
28.Evolution
1970. Winter.
It was Sunday midmorning in London. Cool breeze
swept by. Rajan was going over The Times, his favorite
newspaper. A heavy bundle of it during weekends. Tongo is
free from British rule, thundered the front page. Routine for
the subsiding British Empire. He eased himself to the edit
page where more ponderous material awaited him. Sara had
no interest in politics. She was engrossed in a novel, James
Gordson Farrels’ ‘Troubles’. She was almost half way and
wanted to finish it before another week dawned.
Children frolicked with snow on the road outside their
home. White patches had come roosting on the roof top
only. Children threw flakes of snow to each other. White
foamy flakes rained down breathlessly. Many vehicles parked
on roadsides were all covered in white. Soon the driveways
would have a thick carpet of it. Rajan would have a heavy
start in the morning to rid with it. Sara would bring a cup of
steaming tea and join him.
Walking down from a distance Mary and Antony saw
grand children frolicking. They were returning from a house
visit after Sunday service. One among them tugged Mary to
play. The couple was extremely happy. Antony had a walking
stick with which he tried to dodge ball of snow coming in his
way. They looked visibly aged with sunken cheeks and grey
head.
Antony thought of Danny. His children ought to have
joined the pranks of little ones. But not yet. For shedding the
teeth of Diana, the court punished Danny for three months
in jail and awarded £ 2,000 to her in compensation. As per
divorce ruling, Danny was separated from Diana in a three
months, giving ample time for both to settle matters between
them. As soon as the period was over, Diana invited an old
flame of hers, a white one, to join her for a living in.
Danny was married to Rachel, an orphan from back
home. She was a post graduate in graduate in pharmacy
teaching in a college attached to a medical college. The
proposal came from one of Antony’s sisters in India. Photos
were exchanged and Danny bowed to the wishes of his
parents and aunts and received her in wedlock at a ceremony
conducted at a church in his native village.
A low key affair. Of course Antony’s kith and kin and a
few neighbors and friends were invited Aiysha and her family
flew down from London to participate. Her daughter-in-law
Nimmi in the company of Sara was the cynosure of all eyes.
Clad in the golden brocaded Sari, they led the parade during
the ceremony and the wedding feast. A vegetarian feast that
was, perfectly in Onam festival style. White served on tender
plantain leaves adorned with dozen curries topped by two
types of payasams—palpayasam and paladapradhaman
(white milky sweet dish and milky sweet dish mixed with
jaggery)— was lapped up by all invitees.
It was also an occasion of reunion between Nimmi and her mother Saraswathi Nair, who had chosen to come back
to her native land when her husband on emigration from
Singapore decided to settle down in London and work.
Nimmi was born in Singapore and had her schooling there till
her parents moved to England. Mrs Nair, a retired professor,
had not attendee her daughter’s wedding to Aiysha’s son.
She was apprehensive. But when she met Aiysha, all her
misgivings dissipated. Such a mother would have a lovely
son. She was almost sure.
Nimmi’s accompanied her mother to visit her paternal
uncles and aunts in Quilon. They were all pleased and
thrilled to meet their niece for the t\e first time. From there,
Nimmi, her mother and her mother-in-law travelled all the
way to North Malabar where Aiysha was born. Aiysha’s
parents had expired. However, she visited the homes of her
brothers and sisters who she presented beautiful saries she
had bought in the Indian sari shops in London’s Upton Park
near East Ham. But she was surprised to find most of her
sisters, their daughters and brothers’ wives and their children
had switched over to hijaab and scarves. While the West was
going West, the East was going to West Asia, she was amazed.
Rajan’s mother was the most happy mother on earth.
She was also meeting her daughter in law for the first time.
She very well knew the details of how he happened to meet
her after an accident and how Sara nursed him back to full
recovery. Their wedding was held in such a hurry that she
opted to stay back and waited for their arrival. Otherwise she
would go to London and meet her daughter-in law. Rajan’s
mother was pleased with Sara, her behavior, demeanor and
the ease with which she handled Malayalam as well as the
language of her adopted country pleased her. One evening
Sara surprised her mother-in-law by singing a classical
Mirabhajan with elan. “How lucky my son is!” she told Sara
when Rajan was around. She wished Rajan and his wife
stayed with her for long.
When Mary went to her village, Antony waded though the
lanes and bylanes of his child hood days in Thamarakulam.
The village had changed its hues. Most of the green paddy
fields had been reclaimed for big houses and commercial
complexes. Some of the tall coconut trees were still looking
up the skies swaying its palms in tune with the wind from the
west. He tied to see any of the paral meen (cowries) were still
in the rivulet that passed through the coconut trees to the
plantain groves.. He was disappointed as he could not find
any. He thought of the stream where he and his friends swam
till their backs were in pain. He longed to invade the cane
fields in the neighborhood and eat the sweet su\tubs to his
content.
He wondered whether any of his childhood mates were
around. Most might have moved away or passed away.
Through a school buddy, he was able to locate two and went
meeting them. They were ordinary folk with beaten faces
and beaten bodies who toiled all through their life to bring
up their children. One of his mates son was driving an auto
rikshaw. The other one did not have son, had seven daughters
in all. He was living along with one of her daughters whose
husband was a stevedore in the Cochin shipyard.
Antony invited both for a get together in a posh hotel.
After a sumptuous lunch and photo session, he saw that both had a large packets of take away of some of the choicest
items and presented each with Rs 2000 in a brown envelop
he had specially prepared. On top of the envelops he wrote
in his own hand (of course in Malayalam): “To my bosom
friends in memory of our evergreen child hood”. While
bidding farewell, Antony found that their eyes had welled up.
So also his.
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