“As I wrote the previous entry I realized that there are faces of people I remember so vividly but their names I had never bothered to find out or remember”.
After school everyday my mum would come and pick us up for the long bus ride home. She would come at 5.00pm and by then we would have played for an hour. There was a boy about my age with whom my sister and I played. He was'nt from our school (a school for girls) but he lived in the convent. He was so much fun, he was very fair and his hair was golden in colour. A couple of years he was'nt there. If I had the ability to draw I’d draw his face to the last detail even today. I just never asked for his name.
In the school canteen were sales women, all- as if made to order in the same height and shape. I remember 2 faces both spectacled but one brown the other fair. They and their blue aprons I remember and yes! They would speak Malayalam and call it Tamil. Buns, samosas, elantha vadai and a whole lot of things I had bought from them, and sometimes fought with them. Umhum never knew their names.
Under one of the huge trees in school sat an old cobbler, really old. I just loved to sit next to him and watch him work on my torn shoes. I fell in love with mending shoes. He narrated incidents as he stitched and was such a kind man. As I write in my mind’s eye I can see his face- haggard, mouth with no teeth and white hair…………… his lungi, his soiled white shirt and his paraphernalia. I wonder what his name was
Opposite to my granddad’s house was a workshop for auto rickshaws, many mechanics and painters worked there. As children when we played in the street we stopped to see them work and even spoke to them. Believe me I saw one of them on a scooter, after a long gap of 15 years and I recognized him. I waved to him he cud place me only after seeing my dad who was with me. I shd have asked for his name.!!!!!!!!!!
The list is long and the nostalgia strong, as I recollect those faces without names, they bring back to me the sweet aroma of childhood
…………………….Oh the unforgettable “iceman” at school waving his hands menacingly when we touched his cheap displays: mangoes, oranges, sweets, candies…………….he surely must have had a name?
After school everyday my mum would come and pick us up for the long bus ride home. She would come at 5.00pm and by then we would have played for an hour. There was a boy about my age with whom my sister and I played. He was'nt from our school (a school for girls) but he lived in the convent. He was so much fun, he was very fair and his hair was golden in colour. A couple of years he was'nt there. If I had the ability to draw I’d draw his face to the last detail even today. I just never asked for his name.
In the school canteen were sales women, all- as if made to order in the same height and shape. I remember 2 faces both spectacled but one brown the other fair. They and their blue aprons I remember and yes! They would speak Malayalam and call it Tamil. Buns, samosas, elantha vadai and a whole lot of things I had bought from them, and sometimes fought with them. Umhum never knew their names.
Under one of the huge trees in school sat an old cobbler, really old. I just loved to sit next to him and watch him work on my torn shoes. I fell in love with mending shoes. He narrated incidents as he stitched and was such a kind man. As I write in my mind’s eye I can see his face- haggard, mouth with no teeth and white hair…………… his lungi, his soiled white shirt and his paraphernalia. I wonder what his name was
Opposite to my granddad’s house was a workshop for auto rickshaws, many mechanics and painters worked there. As children when we played in the street we stopped to see them work and even spoke to them. Believe me I saw one of them on a scooter, after a long gap of 15 years and I recognized him. I waved to him he cud place me only after seeing my dad who was with me. I shd have asked for his name.!!!!!!!!!!
The list is long and the nostalgia strong, as I recollect those faces without names, they bring back to me the sweet aroma of childhood
…………………….Oh the unforgettable “iceman” at school waving his hands menacingly when we touched his cheap displays: mangoes, oranges, sweets, candies…………….he surely must have had a name?
