As children of working parents, my sister Kanni and me were kinda left to ourselves after we reach home from school. Our favorite pastime was to enact roles out of the Marvel comics and since Phantom almost always had to jump off Hero the horse, I end up sprawling across attempting those from my cycle. Many such bruises and scratches later, I found it to be not wise at all.
It was then I gave her the idea of starting a News Letter, called
Home Herald. We kept it running for sometime till my hand writing was
quite readable and if someone asked, at least I could comprehend what I had
scribbled over. She dutifully used to cut the clippings and paste them in order
so it somehow resembled a pale cousin of some magazine we had by then seen.
I was by then enjoying a cult status at school for singing one song
for three annual days and as many Children,s days so to save them further
trouble, in one year some few teachers made me don the role of Madhavan, a
writer in a school play.
The only writer I knew of was my Valyachan, (Paternal Uncle)
Dr.S.Velayudhan ( who is now a star in some stellar constellations) and the
first thing I picked from him was the Pipe and his English ( ash bush, as its
known then). I remember coming out of the play to the roaring , earth splitting
laughter of parents and teachers alike with only the kids looking at me in awe
for the pipe and ash bush..
I don’t know, whether that play has any bearings on me but one day I
told my sister in all seriousness an eight year old could muster " you
know Tich, one day you will get my book, all printed in glossy paper". She
was gung-ho about it. Day before yesterday while I called her to say this, she
reminded me this and could feel her crying too. How time flies and with some
luck and a huge motherly push and prod from a mother ( Mrs Geetha Panikker) I
found from here, it actually happened too!
I guess God listens intently when innocence speaks and promises made
with unadulterated purity and somehow pull in the resources to make it happen.
Indeed a beautiful nostalgia and dream come true! It is such memories from the past that bring fragrance into life. Lovely write up, Arun.
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