Thursday, October 22, 2015

A call and Mohanan's tears.

During our visit last month to my dad's place, we're informed about the demise of the elderly and avuncular Kuttan Pillai sir, due to old age related ailments. Since there were prior commitments we couldn't make it to the funeral but had promised ourselves to pay a visit to the family at the next available opportunity. And it came by today.

I remembered my last visit to the traditional nair household when I was in class IX. The house was spruced up for their inhouse temple's annual festival.... His three sons and their wives, along with their children, were available and we'd an interaction of over an hour or so before taking leave of them.

       *               *                *

Our second visit was to Mohanan's house. He used to be with us to do his schooling, help mom with running of errands and was the lone male member of the house while dad and I were away. His mom, the 70 year old Nani ammoomma, helped mom with the household chores. He'd taken farm work on marriage and has a son and a daughter. They're leading a peaceful life when tragedy struck as his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer, resulting in the surgical removal of her left breast. The fourth chemotherapy is scheduled for next week.

The poor lady is suffering. Her eyes had lit up seeing me and my sisters. She didn't expect us, perhaps. We spent about half an hour with them. Time and alcohol have taken a toll of Mohanan. His hall mark innocent looks with a shy smile is now a distant memory. As we walked out of the house, I'd slipped in a small token of our love and affection into his pocket. He clung on to my hand and wept uncontrollably. I just stood there, lost as to how I could console him and as to what I must say.

God why've you done this?


An emotionally draining day!

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