If I have to list one passion, one emotion, one addiction I had in my early years, that will be my mad addiction to the smell of the virgin pages of a new book. I was so attracted by that smell that I am almost always the first one to reach school during the mid summer vacation days when they start distributing the new text books for the next year and then I will go through each page of the books days before the classes actually begin.
My brothers were much older than me. This meant that when I was in upper primary school, they were already in college and active in the local social networks. They were organizers in the local library. Very often during the mid summer vacation, they will got to Trichur to buy the year's books utilizing the grant and bring the new books back home. Wow! So many virgin books! They used to bind the books before those are actually issued to the members through the library and it took them a couple of weeks to get all those books bound. That was a feast for me. I will try to read through as many books as possible within those two weeks that my eyes will become read and I often end up getting beaten up by my mother.
I was from a small village and it was not so usual for children of my age to be glued to a book. All the children in the neighborhood went out playing "കിളിമാസ്" or went out with the cows to the filed and then play football in the field. My beloved father was behind my reading craze. My father spent most part of his life in Ceylon and returned home only in the mid fifties. He was the only congress man in our village and the only one reading Mathrubhumi news paper, considered to be a congress paper at that time. I remember Mohammad സായ്വ് used to come all the way from Karuvannur 3 km away to bring the news paper and weekly to our home. Every Friday morning, I used to get up early and wait for his arrival at the road around 06.30. Because, I want to beat my brothers in getting and reading the Mathrubhumi weekly first! I read Jhansi Rani, Aarogyanikethan, നിറം പിടിപ്പിച്ച നുണകള്, കുഞ്ഞിക്കൂനന് etc... breathlessly each week. Since then I was always so much attracted by stories, especially long novels with historical background.
Later i started sneaking out of my house on Sunday afternoons when my aprents are taking a nap to go to അപ്പുവേട്ടന്റെ ചായക്കട to read Janayugam and later Kalakaumudi. I used to read anything and everything that I can lay my hands on. If it is a muttah Varkey, the pages will be turned very fast. If it is a Pottekkat or Mukundan or MT, the pages will turn more slowly. In those days M N Satyarthi was a very familiar name and I read a lot of Bengali novels translated by him.
It all changed during my 10th. I was caught reading on the eve of my Annual exam. I was reading Golden finger by Ian Fleming in Malayalam, a Bond novel. My father hauled me in front of Head Master. Actually he was my HM during my UP days and now I am in High School and our Head Mistress was different. However, Aravindan master was known as Head Master in our village and my father knew that he was the only person to whom I will listen. To the dismay of my father, HM congratulated me for my reading habits. But he gave me one advice: Try reading in English. You have better works in English and you will improve your language. Looking back, if I have to point out one single event that changed my life, it was that advise from my dear ഹെഡ് മാഷ് that influenced my life the maximum. Because, today, more than my technical knowledge, more than my negotiating skills or even more than my skills in contractual matters or even more than my persuasive skills, it is my writing skills in English that helps me in my professional life!!!
It is about 4 am in the morning. I got up at 2 am to see off Kuttu going to Goa to celebrate new Year with his friends and I could not sleep any further. I laid awake in the bed. Thoughts wandered off to the past. It is amazing how things that happened many decades ago comes back to you so vividly at such times. I could see my father, always kind, always ready to lend a helping hand to the needy, almost never angry, almost never seen shouting at any one, always reasonable and loving. I could see me trying to emulate him. Except that I never have the patience he had. I get irritated when I see inefficiency, wastage of time, energy or even food, I cannot comprehend how people can spend hours and hours talking nothings, or watching serials / reality shows. Well, may it was because we did not have TV or phone at that time that I didn't see that side of my father!!
Another image that came to my mind was that of Radhamani teacher. When I reached the big high school in the city (if you can call Irinjalakuda a city in those days or even now), walking 3.5 km each day, I was the second smallest child in the class. (Johny was smaller than me!!!!). I was practically lost. That is until Radhamani teacher came in the first class to introduce herself as our class teacher and English and science teacher. She was very fair in colour with curly hair. She asked each one in the class to say one simple English sentence. I was the only one who could do that and in spite of my size, she made me the class leader! I adored her from then on and I was always first in English and science. The next best thing to happen in my life after the advise of head master, was getting Radhamani teacher as my teacher and the affection she had for me.
I was never really punished in school or at home. If any one did beat me up ever it was my mother. My father adored me and I could do no wrong for him. I was the pet of my teachers, at least until the 10th. In10th, we were in the first week and one day our maths teacher did not turn up. A fat new teacher came to stand in for him. My friends told me that it was Abbas sir. The next period, Radhamani teacher came and asked me who substituted the absent maths teacher. I told her it was Abbas sir. Her face became red with anger. She asked me to extend my hand and there goes the stick up and down 3 or 4 times. I started crying, not because of the pain, but because it was Radhamoni teacher and because I did not know what I did wrong. She went on to take the class with the same angry face. After a few minutes, she could not hold it any more. She came to me and asked me in a soft voice. Do you know why I beat you? I said no. She understood that I am telling her the truth and she told me that the name of the teacher was actually Aravindakshamenon and Abbas was his nick name given by students because he was fat like the then movie artist Abbas!! I saw the pain in her eyes and started crying again!
After many years, the principal in Chinmaya Vidyalaya, Shobha teacher, where my son was studying told me the same thing: "Very often, many students excel in their studies for the teacher who teach them. She went on to tell me, we are here not to teach just the bright students, they dont really need our help. We are here to help those students who are not so bright or have many other talents than what is being taught in our system. I will consider myself successful, if I can make the poorest student in my school get good marks". How true. Nikhil when he was 6 and studying in KV Moscow wanted only to study maths, day in day out, only maths. His teacher, Malti from Orissa, even with the barrier of language, made such an impression in him that he only wanted to learn the subject being taught by her! Unfortunately, we do not have such dedicated loving teachers any more or not enough.
Well, it is almost 6 am now. Back to bed and try to catch some sleep. I am glad that after such a long time, due to the fever and forced bed rest, I could complete the 100th blog today, though it is more like an autobiography :)
