Nganga, my name....

Oh, God!! What a strange name I have!! Nganga…..I think I was named Ganga by my parents…a name I couldn’t like in my primary school days. Whenever the name of the river Ganga was mentioned in the class room, the girls would turn to look at me with a teasing smile..
Mother’s younger brother Aniyammavan used to tease me that I was their adopted child and as my father got me from the garbage I was so dirty and father had to dip me in the river Ganga to get me cleaned. He said that is why they gave me that name. And I believed that story for a long time, and hated my name all the more….

I remember the days when Govind started his baby talks . He was the first grandson of my parents. We were all so excited and overwhelmed with many emotions when he came to our life. His each movement and facial expression was noticed and cheered by us.

I don’t remember when he uttered my name for the first time, but when it was clear that he gave me a special name, I was very much excited.. He started calling me too often in that name ‘nganga’, which I think only a Malayali can pronounce. Then came his sister, and she shortened it a bit and called me ‘ngnga’. And so my name got popular and all my nieces and nephews call me so. None of them found it necessary to call me aunty [valliamma or chitta]. Now their spouses too know me by that name….and their children…..Govind’s daughter has already started calling me nganga ammoomma….How strange!

Actually I got used to the name so much that I didn’t notice anything strange in it until now when I got a mail from Govind’s non-Indian friend addressing me ‘Nganga’. Ha ha…I wish to hear her pronounce it, if she ever could......

Unexplained ...

Certain things that happen in life make us bewildered for ever. We don't get an explanation and we just wonder how and why they happened. I can recollect a few such occasions in my life.

My mother's condition was getting worse as days passed. We knew she would not recover. Everyone who knew her came to see and all went back seeing her pleasant and confident face.

That morning I found my mother drowsy. She ate very little breakfast. But she asked for an early lunch. While I was feeding her, she fell asleep. She was in that state of semi consciousness for hours. Doctor was called in and we knew she was leaving us slowly....

All our dear and near ones visited. All sat beside her talked and showed their love for her but she did not respond. By evening her grandson Ramu [Arjun] came to see her from his college. It started raining heavily and the lights went off.

I made Ramu sit beside his grandma and I told her it was Ramu. He had held her hand. Then I saw her lips moving and she was whispering something.. She was repeatedly saying, "Neela Shanghupushpam". May be she wanted Ramu to give her that particular flower.

It was getting darker outside and I didn't know from where I could get a flower for her. It is a very common flower seen everywhere but at that time I didn't know where to get one.

I looked eveywhere around and saw a plaintain leaf in the pooja room with some flowers someone had brought from the temple in the morning. There were a few petals and flowers and I took them to mother's room.

I gave one flower to Ramu and asked him to place in her hand. He did so and to our surprise she moved her hand and threw the flower. Her eyes were closed and she recognized the flower by touch. Ramu and me tried the same twice more, but she didn't accept any of it. Still she was asking for a Neela Shanghupushpam".

I felt sad that I couldn't give her one and saying, "Krishna, where can I find a Neela Shanghupushpam", I once again searched the leaf containing the pooja flowers. Then I got the shock of my life, there was the flower which mother asked for, under the petal of a hibiscous flower. I rushed to the room gave it to Ramu and he placed it in her hand. She slowly folded her fingers and kept the flower tight in her hand.

Mother went into a coma and died on the third day. Mother was always fond of flowers and there were a good variety of plants in her garden but I don't understand what significance this flower had in her life.

I still can't find an answer how she recognized the flowers in that semi-conscious state. How that flower came from nowhere as I'm so sure that it was not there when I searched. But I'm grateful to whatever power that brought the flower to my vision as I could fulfill my mother's last simple wish.....

On a dark rainy night..

As usual I started back from my mothers’ place so that I could reach home by evening. It was two days since I left home and had to stay as mother was very ill. I didn’t have the mind to leave her but the thought of my family made me rush back. My boys had to attend school and husband office. They were understanding and adjusting, but I couldn’t neglect them for too long.

My eyes filled when I thought of my plight. It was 3 hours journey by bus to mother’s place. Suddenly the bus had a jerk and came to a halt.. The driver announced that he will take only five minutes to repair it. After half an hour the bus started its journey. But bad things always come together..It started raining heavily and there was traffic jams, and the pathetic condition of the roads made things worse.

It was so dark outside and I looked at other passengers..I wished to see at least one familiar face among them. But there wasn’t any. All were cursing the weather and the heavy traffic. But none of them had any fear. I made plans of what to do when I got down at my place. There were no mobile phones in those days. I was young and I was not expected to travel alone at that time of night. I had to walk atleast 20 minutes to reach home. I planned to telephone my husband and wait inside some shop till he comes and picks me up.

When I reached the bus stop where I had to get down it was 9 O’clock, 3 hours later than expected. There was thunder and lightning with the heavy down pour. I had no umbrella. I was the only passenger to get down there..The conducter warned, “sister be careful.” To my utter dismay I found all the shops closed, there was power failure and the roads were flooding. I saw no human anywhere. I was trembling with fear, but decided to reach home somehow. I had no other option. The light from the passing vehicles helped me cross the road and enter the bylane to our house. Now I had to walk atleast 20 minutes. I started running. But my wet saree made my pace slower, I couldn’t walk.. ..

I fell on the road..The lightning was the only source of light..As I got up I saw a man following me .... That was the end..Pale with fear I knew I would die that night. As a last attempt, chanting prayers, pulling up my saree I started running. After a while I looked back and saw the man following.... I was horrified.
He could easily take my gold and kill me I feared.. I was still running, falling down, I knew I had no escape from this danger.. But that man was walking calmly behind me, keeping a distance. The nightmare ended when I somehow reached the gate, entered and looked back. The man smiled, waving to me he said, “Sister I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” Then he turned back and disappeared in the dark..

I felt so ashamed of myself. Why did I think all bad things about that man who came to help me? Why are we so afraid of fellow human beings? There is still kindness and concern among humans.. The doubts and fear in us don’t allow us to trust strangers.

My life as a student……

School was the most dreaded place for me..I think I started my school in Cotton Hill school Trivandrum..I have no memories of those days.

The one I remember well is 4^th standard of Baker Memorial school in Kottayam. I think that was the class when I started learning English. The class teacher Sosamma Kochamma taught us English and I admired her for her beauty and her neat dress. She used to wear cotton sarees neatly starched and ironed. Another thing I can still remember is her smell. She had the smell of bread and milk….

Sosamma Kochamma would walk in between the benches and when she reach near me, I would inhale all the smell I could hold..

All my admiration turned into an aversion with a single incident.

We progressed in learning English, from alphabets to words. Then the day came when she gave us a surprise dictation. It is true that I couldn’t write even a word she dictated. Nothing entered my head. When she came near my bench with that stick beating on the desks, I got frightened and started scribbling something with a bent head.

She asked me to stand up and to my utter dismay she declared that I was copying the dictation from the girl who sat near me. She snatched my notebook and sent me out of the class. If she had looked into the book she would know that she was wrong. I was the worst student but I was honest. Getting zeros in Maths and English didn’t bother me as much as that. This incident disheartened me so much that it was another excuse I made to myself for not showing any interest in studies. Thus the image of Sosamma Kochamma shattered inside me and I lost all enthusiasm in going to school.

The Last Leaf

A few days in the I.C.U made me very dull. When the wheezing was under control, without those tubes and masks, I realized what I went through. Till now I was totally blank. Wished the suffering would somehow end. By death or cure, I didn’t mind.

I was shifted to this room only today morning. I don’t remember how many days I was in the I.C.U. Doctor was joking and smiling. She was repeating all that I said, may be in a temporary state of delirium….She said I’ll show you how beautiful this world is..She made me sit on a chair near the window….She drew the window curtains. Wow! This is the most beautiful sight I ever had in all the 57 years of life. The setting sun never had so many colours. The beauty of a sunset is a splendour to behold. My eyes devoured the beauty of nature as if I am seeing it for the first time. The rainbow splashed its colours all over the sky.
I looked down. I was in a room on the 5th floor. Looking down, the busy street came into view. Vehicles running, people walking in a hurry to reach somewhere .
Last evening a story I learned in school went through my mind. It was “The Last Leaf” by O.Henry. That was a story that touched my heart. The story was about two young girls, Sue and Johnsy ,and an old friend of them,Behrman. They were all struggling artists. Once Johnsy had an attack of Pneumonia, and everyone was sure she would die.
Johnsy lost all hopes. She looked out the window and saw an old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The leaves were falling in the wind and Johnsy felt when the last leaf falls she too would die.
Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty.Behrman was a failure in art. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional.
Sue and Behrman tried to convince Johnsy, but she would not listen. That night there was heavy wind and rain. Johnsy woke up and looked out. The last leaf was still there. It didn’t fall in the rain..She got back hopes of life..
It was Behrman who painted the leaf on the wall. He thought if he could bring back hopes in the young girl’s heart, she would survive. Risking his life, he spent the night painting the leaf so that the girl would believe the leaf didn’t fall. It was his masterpiece. He died of pneumonia, the next day…This is the story…
I too lost all hopes ..Actually wished the suffering would end somehow….But today I’m sitting here and watching the beauty of nature. Did anyone paint a leaf of hopes on the wall for me too?