From Aachu
വസുധൈവകുടുംബകം: July 2006

Wednesday, July 12, 2006


I was playing with my son on the system by scanning, copying and publishing his pictures on yahoo. I keep his pictures since he is one week old. When my Asim is growing from small to big, big and bigger until he reach 3 and half on yahoo animation screen, my imagination is also growing with the prayers to see him as big, matured man who is watching his small small pictures on his own id which his mom has created for him. What a proud and childish feeling of a mother!. In my responsible expatriate life, I am keeping him away for a small time. But every moment, I am with him, I talk many times daily, I am always watching his face as my screen saver. Still I miss him a lot and cry before I sleep. His kisses over phone and his small secrets with low voice for me alone are echoing in my ears. I always have the feeling that I am not a responsible mother. My mother, who is more concerned for him than anybody in this world, never allowed him to sleep with me. Being a premature baby, he was in the incubator of Medical Centre for one week. After reaching home, it was the instruction of elders for a delivered woman to sleep only straight in order to strengthen the backbone. So for convenience mother stolen him again. But he always preferred to sleep alone, I think, in his early days.

During the early weeks, I had to compensate with market milk instead of mother’s milk. May be it is because of my matured delivery or his pre maturity, he had to wait for some time. He started feeding proper after some time. But it didn’t last for long. I had to wander throughout Himalayas and Ganges in Rishikesh and Dehradun in search of his father. As per the custom, and religious instructions, a boy should get milk for 2 years and a girl for 1 and half years. The discrimination for girl starts even before she comes out of the womb. May be some scientific principle behind it, I don’t know. May be the responsibility of a man is more than a woman. So his shoulder must be strong enough to carry the burden of his parents. He need more milk. If so, my baby’s shoulder is weak and he cannot carry me. But his father gave him the name ASIM, ie, PROTECTOR. At the time he referred this name from Saudi Arabia, he told me that I want him to protect you, even if I am not there. Did he know that he will not be with me in the long run. Was it a pre planned drama to escape from me and my baby for ever.

Miya, our Asim is growing, he is a big boy now. He talks good, he ride cycle and he colour pictures. I admitted him in school for LKG. But it is not Dehradun International school, where Rajiv Gandhi studied and you dreamt of your son to study. After all, he was always my son, a malayalee boy. Moreover, it was my priority to have a baby also. So forget it. The school is an ordinary CBSE school in kerala. I know you don’t like kerala for anything. You like the greenery to see once in a while as a tourist staying in hotel. But it is my home land, my motherland, my blood, my root, my emotions and everything. When you took our baby to Delhi for the first time, you remember, you introduced New Delhi, the Indraprastha of Indian politics to the one year old Infant, “baby, this is North India, even if you die in a forest, that will be a forest of North India.”

You were from South India, Hyderabad, but you never liked Hyderabadis. No, your origin from Arab world, that too from the ancient Yemen. But you never liked them or their culture. And your father later became Pakistani, you didn’t told me that whether you like them or not. You always liked Americans and wanted to migrate to such places. But I could not imagine to relocate to any far places. See, now, we were living in India, the same country and how easily you could disappear from me without leaving any evidence of existence. You were eager to marry me when you heard that I am from Kerala. You heard a lot that malayalee ladies are sexy. You were excited with the version of your married friend that if I get a chance to marry next time, I will definitely go for a malayalee lady. Was it only because of that you married me, miya? I don’t know. But I know only that you were a super sexy man though I never experimented anybody before or after.

Whatever you were, whatever you are, I loved you yaar. I never pretended anything. I was having the full faith in you that you are mine. I never tried to explore any secrets from your files. I was having access to your system and the entire office network, but I never tried to search or research of your girl friends. After marriage and our one month honey moon, you returned to Saudi Arabia. I was cleaning the bag you left at home, then I noticed a receipt of one resort hotel in Dubai, name I don’t remember, and the name was of one Mrs. Natasha Talwar . I showed this to my mother and told that I am being cheated. My visa was in process to travel to Saudi Arabia. My mother begged me and asked to pledge that I will not refer this to you and create any problem and she asked me to burn the receipt and I did. I forgot about that. After I reached Saudi and during our loving life, when I referred about this, you told me that it was a business meeting in dubai with a Delhi lady.

We cannot hide any secrets in love. Like a parrot, you told me the entire story in succeeding days. I didn’t have any complaints. I don’t have any complaints. Our marriage was like that, INTERNET MARRIAGE in its real sense. We met through in 2001. So Natasha one of your contacted person and the meeting in dubai was an engagement. She was the high executive of a Delhi based company and it was her business tour and you met her during that time. Whatever it be, your version, I had to believe. You told me that you spent a lot of money for her gifts. It was none of my business. She was the daughter of a senior RSS member in delhi and a widow and the mother of two matured boys. You were ready to marry her after conversion to muslim and to provide all expenses of her children and pay off her debts.
But she could not even imagine to come to Saudi Arabia and wear Purdah. Instead, she wanted you to come to Delhi and become a Hindu. You told me that in your urge for getting married after the solitude life for 16 years in Saudi, you were ready even for that. In her dubai visit, you had to introduce her to your all nieces in Dubai who are nationals of UAE, you say. Later, Shahanaz, one of your niece, called you and instructed not to marry her and you had to drop her. She insulted you in front of all your family members by insisting you to go and visit those relations whom you were not meeting for the last 12 years. She spoiled all your reputation. But in all references, you had great respect for her. You always said, she is a poor lady. In our wedlock of 3 years, you never took me to your birth place or introduced anybody even through phone. I never demanded also. I trusted you, as I said before marriage, I trust you since I trust my fate. Yes Miya, it was my fate that I met you. I should not complain to you and I am not. This is my tears for you which I am trying to recall. I will never never degrade you in front of our son. Even from this stage, he is praying for your well being and long life.


When exactly I started loving. I don’t know. But I know when I started knowing about love. It was when I began to know poems, especially of my language. Even without knowing the meaning fully, I used to recite like mad, these words of love

“ The Earth is full of love
The world rises from love
Love, here is the eternal truth,
Even death itself is love.
In the devotion of love……
Oh, baby u love, those who hate you even.”

So I started loving the terms such as Sneham, which was so sweet. But who loved me first. I have and had only one answer. It is my grandmother. My grandmother, always in white dress and rose in colour who always read Quran and ask me to read also. I call her Vellummachi. Vellu+Umma+CHI, Vellu means Big, Umma means mother, CHI has no meaning, but is the most meaningful of the three, it is the symbol of my attachment to her, my love to her.

She gave me a beautiful name, the meaning of which is Sukoon, or peace. But she told me that it has another meaning, that is “One who follow the Great”. Sometimes she asked me” whom you want to follow”. I think, then I said, I want to be a Joan of Arc, at least a Jhansi Rani or the least a Lalithambika Antharjanam. The history didn’t repeat for me. So I didn’t become any. Later I realized that my name has no such meaning. It is only peace, the thing which I never seen.

She might have wanted to see my eyes glittering with dreams when I talk about these stars of past. Yes, I enjoyed too much of being in those dreams, the dreams of putting myself in the place of Joan of Arc, or Jhansi Rani. That is why I could spent my whole day for reading 8 times, the story of Devaki Manhampilly, the Thethiyedathi of Thankam, my favourite writer and later Devi Bahan.

See, I forgot of love now. Ok, how I know the love of my grandmother, I don’t know. My mother says, I never slept with her. I was sleeping with grandmother. She had to clean her bed daily for my childhood naughtiness on the bed. Still she call everynight, Chakkee, come to sleep in my arms. Since that time I started sleeping in arms. When I was 24, I lost my grandmother’s arms forever. I lost my father long back, but I never felt being orphan or Yateem, the 2nd most cruel status for a girl when unmarried, the 1st being a divorcee or widowed. I came through many phases of life after that, being a wife and then a mother. But Vellummichee, I miss your arms even today, the closeness of your body, the consolation which I felt when you were massaging my head. You remember, I felt unconscious for only once in life, that was on the day of your demise. I cried loudly, “don’t leave me alone and go my Vellummichee”. In the night when everybody feel fear to think of even the graveyard, I came to visit you. But I could not see you there. You came several times in dream, but with a sad face. I could not rest here peacefully. I felt, may be your soul will be suffering, so I searched for some prayers and offered after a long time. I don’t know the relation between soul and human body. But I know one thing wherever we are, I could feel you, even if it is in my sleep or unconscious, this is love, I feel, may be eternal.