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16 OPEN PAGE SUNDAY, MARCH 3, 2019
DELHI THE HINDU
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Those wars that In Kanyakumari, then

* GETTYIMAGES/ISTOCK we don’t desire Ethe time of British In­ Comorin to the above story
these eight decades!
V. Ramasubban
I still connect old Cape
arly 1940s! What a
and coloured sand in the
long time ago! It was
beach. Yes, it was unique
dia and the Indian princely
states. And it was the time of and very beautiful. We had
to walk westward from our
The women Lives are at stake, and the kin of the warriors fret World War II and severe place of stay and we came
shortages. Due to shortage
across of a huge and colour­
of petrol, buses in those ful heap and when you ap­
in a man’s life anurima sharma the point of leaving the second one as days plied on coal­fired en­ proached it you will find it to
gines. The coal was burnt in
he is no longer here but at the border.
be sand. You take a handful
y heart skipped a beat when This is stability, as I am told there are a tall cylindrical container and allow the dry sand to
Sibi Selvaraj my father­in­law called up to ladies who have done shifting four and the gas from this was trickle down your fingers,
Mgive the news that there is times in two years. I have been pur­ used to run the bus. and with the sunlight falling
ome women I have scorned, some I news of an Air Force operation across suing an allotment of house, reten­ This contraption was also on the sand you will find a
have loved. This is to all the women I the border. I stopped in my tracks tion of house but to no avail till now. the favoured hiding spot for rain of colour: you have
Slove… and switched on the television. It was Everyone is sympathetic but they contraband items being ta­ created a wonderful sight.
Among the many, the betel leaf fragrance an air strike by the Air Force War­ cannot do anything about it. I carry ken across borders. The bus There was maroon, black
of my grandmother’s fingers as she force­ riors. I scrolled all the channels for on my duties as a government ser­ driver and conductor were and light yellow sand.
fed me bowls of rasam saadam (a spicy ve­ news of any casualties. Negative. vant and a mother. often full partners in these Our next visit to Kanyaku­
getarian broth on rice) still remains strong Then, I allowed myself a sigh of My father has been bed­ridden af­ clandestine operations, as I mari was after 30 years! We
in my memory. Very recently, my girlfriend relief. I was just praying hard ter a heart attack. So I prefer to keep myself discovered! went for a short holiday to
sent my mom a photo of her kissing me on that there are no casualties. my terrors to myself. However, I Kanyakumari in 1970. We
the cheeks, as a prank. There was an instant Amidst the trending hash tags don’t have the heart to really reflect had booked one room at a
response to her from my mother: ‘Take care of “not forgotten, not forgi­ how and what I have to do tomorrow. guest house facing the sea.
of your hair, oil it regularly.’ ven”, I may be amongst the mi­ My future is entwined with the boy. We spent the whole day
I have been bitten by a stray mother dog nority who do not dare utter Whatever he is doing, I am clueless roaming around, visiting
when I tried to lift her weak baby from un­ the dreaded word. Attack on­ most of the time. I am doing the temples, stalls selling curios
der a car. The puppy was handed over to ly brings a single memory. rounds for a house here, and I some­ * GETTYIMAGES/ISTOCK and eateries, and going back
the Blue Cross and I had to go through an The memory of my boy times cry and laugh at the irony of to the sea to see the setting
anti­rabies vaccine regimen. I hate injec­ (armed forces personnel the situation. The boy does not know sun, and by late evening we
tions. The nurse who injected me didn’t never age, they either be­ more than a couple of hours of sleep, were tired. We decided to go
flinch or frown when a grown man was mak­ come veterans or attain and I’m here, focussing on where I to our room and relax, seat­
ing so much of fuss over a needle shot. martyrdom) guarding the would stay in his absence. Our holiday was a visit to ed in the open verandah en­
Their unconditional love and affectionate borders and others. Armed forces wives are said to be Cape Comorin, or Kanniya­ joying the cool breeze and
sternness made them more human and an­ I forget to breathe when I resilient, brave, sophisticated and kumari as it is known now. I gossiping. Then we went to
gelic. Wherever I go, it seems I get flooded hear him at 2 a.m. with all the much more. I’m nothing like that. I recall we stayed in a two­ sleep so that we could get up
by the warmth of the women around me. noise in the background. I am scared to my guts, I’m always te­ roomed cottage with a reap­ early to watch the famed
I had moved to Chennai for my job and know he is somewhere outdoors, ary eyed, vulnerable and praying a er­covered verandah along sunrise. After one hour or so
had fallen ill terribly. I was weak, had high either in the snow or in the winds. hundred times a day for the safe re­ the front and sides. But my three­year­old daughter
fever and couldn’t even move. My girlfriend His idea of luxury is a tin shed, and turn. “We are proud of you,” I am what we loved the most called in great excitement,
and her mother travelled over 20 km in the music to his ears is the told by another bureaucrat, who was there was to go to the Kanya­ “amma, appa wake up;
middle of the night to take me to their voice of his two­ helping me out for a place to live. “Do kumari temple. In the prak- look, the water is still there
home, and made sure I recovered in a mere year­old daught­ you think the government is doing aram of the temple lived a in the sea!” My brother­in­
three days under their care. er. When the toddler enough for the cause of soldiers?” he pair of cockatoos in two sep­ law woke up and said she
My landlady is sweet, too. Not only has watched the movie Uri, she asked. No one can do enough for the arate cages. My sister and I probably thought it was a
she arranged for me accommodation at a re­ cried out, “Papa!”, looking at the ac­ lives that are at stake always and the used to stand below the cag­ wash basin and the water
latively low cost, she cooks and feeds me so tor who donned olive green. Then lives who survive behind with all the es and listen to the cocka­ was still stored in the basin!
I don’t have to eat in hotels. I’m sure I weigh she continuously cried saying, Aun- focus on the frontiers, I thought — but toos talking to each other! The next morning we
much more now than when I came. ty ro rahi hai (aunty is crying). I just murmured something. The bigger cockatoo used made it a point to show the
Bold career women, women who could didn’t have the heart to continue I’ve had sleepless nights thinking to look at the smaller one in sea to our daughter and ex­
even tame satan with their hospitality, it has and we got out of the cinema. I of everyone else whose boys are out the cage nearby and call out plain to her the concept of
been a pleasure growing up among the di­ don’t need to witness it on screen, there. I feel no pride, only horror, in a loud and shrill tone, the sea and its vastness. To­
vine beings. But there’s also the other side I thought. I swim in the flood of when I look at his medals. ‘Thathammme! Poocha! Poo- day that three­year­old is 52
to the story. It happens in subtle ways, emotion every day, and no actor Yuddhaya krit Nishchayah, the me­ cha! Poocha in Malayalam and her husband a Captain
seemingly minor ways, but leaves behind a can emulate on screen the dal says, from the Bhagwad Gita, (Parrot! Cat! Cat! Cat! ). This in the Merchant Navy. And
serious question: if we can truly understand pain and tumult in life. where Krishna tells Arjuna that, if call used to send the smaller she has accompanied her
and respect everyone else from their per­ The boy has left after living you get wounded in the war you bird into a shiver of fright! husband on voyages and
spective of gender. with me for two years out of six would attain heaven; if you are victo­ This was repeated endlessly can tell us of the wonders of
It might be a lot of things. Like the cau­ years of our marital life. In rious you would rule the earth. So, whenever we stood watch­ the sea.
tious gaze a mother has over you when two years, I’ve get up and fight the war.” ing! And we loved watching Kanyakumari is the only
you’re merely playing with her little daught­ changed houses I want no wars. I only want all the it countless times. Nowa­ point in India where you see
er, or the accusatory glance you might get Download Indian Library App days we seldom see a parrot the sunset and moon rise on
boys to be safe.
twice and I’m at
#70929
when you unintentionally touch or push so­ and very rarely a cockatoo a full moon day if the sky is
meone in a crowded bus. Carrying the bur­ sharmaanurima@gmail.com in cities. We were fortunate not overcast.
den of an assumption that a man must be at and I still remember the
J.A. PREMKUMAR
fault when a woman complains. cockatoos and poocha after hemram1229@gmail.com
Notoriously and most commonly in road
incidents, it’s almost never the lady’s fault.
Can’t a younger woman give up a seat to a
frail, older man in the bus even if it was re­ The magic and the thrills in ordinary journeys
served for the ladies? Imagine how cool it
would be when a woman reprimands a traf­
fic constable for letting her go without pay­
ing a fine just because she’s a woman. Every train trip can be an adventure, exhilarating yet painful at the same time
I’m not saying all women are so. I’m just
making a few observations I’ve had in my Richa Mehndiratta train? Munnabhai’s ‘Real India’ for school in the morning; or
life. These may, depending on the situation, – is it just a heap of garbage and you see the sun set gloriously, could easily eat three and the couple who meets up in the
also apply to men. But when I as a man sees y morning is an adven­ slums and smelly drains? Well, reminding you that it’s still be hungry) to the old evening at the station and joy­
it happen, I’m not worried about how some ture for me every day, partly true but not only that! evening, and it is the fa­ woman. The transition in fully smile and wave as if it
among the fairer sex take advantage of little Mthe adventure of catch­ On some days, it drizzles, and vorite time of the day – the elderly lady’s face were an eternity since they last
things here and there, but I think of where ing the local train to work. So­ the running train leaves your as a cup of adrak chai was amazing, and from a met rather than just that
as a society we are headed. metimes I am late, sometimes it face refreshingly splashed with (ginger tea) beckons at defeated look, I saw a morning.
I don’t want my daughter to be one of is. Some people wait patiently a feeling of a child­like happi­ home. smile stretching from her Train journeys are an adven­
them. I clearly don’t want my son to be for the train on the platform, ness of getting drenched in the In the train, one meets tired eyes right up to her ov­ ture, exhilarating yet painful at
growing up to disrespect women. But is it having arrived sufficiently in rain. On occasions, a flock of all kinds of people. You may be­ er­creased wrinkles. That day I the same time. Like the best ad­
wrong for me to expect a meaningful dia­ advance and busy reading their birds race with the train in a si­ come irritated by the chatter­ learnt the power of sharing. ventures, you rarely enjoy a
logue to arise between men and women, morning paper, whilst others newy path, dancing to the mus­ ing crowd, some of them seat­ Not only in the train, but train journey while you are in it
surpassing the constriction of gender (like me) run helter­skelter ic playing in your ears, with the ed on the floor blocking the there are so many emotions to but remember the same fondly
ideologies? looking totally undignified, backdrop lined by the shapes door for the breeze, but you al­ observe on the platform. In the when you look back upon
In an atmosphere where people are chasing down the train and giv­ of boulders in their balancing so stumble upon kindness and morning, a toddler with his them.
swiped left and right off the screen, cruel­ ing a hand to the driver with act, with a peacock giving a humanity in the most unex­ father on the bike, waves a cry­ It teaches you about life,
ties against every gender exists. People are pleading eyes to miraculously guest appearance declaring its pected of places. ing goodbye to his working about people, about near­mis­
becoming disposable emotionally. Are we stop. Oh, I am nothing less than supremacy on one of the rocks. One such encounter that I mother, not understanding ses and many other emotions.
forgetting ourselves with respect to our hu­ our P.T. Usha, running at my As the train passes through observed was between an old, why she must leave. The moth­ Most of all, it teaches you pa­
man core? Is it not time we sat down, talked top speed to catch the train! the cemetery you can’t but malnourished woman sitting er keeps a strong smile with her tience to wait for the good
and understood each other? The days I am successful I help notice that the most flour­ on the floor and a working­ goodbyes, but you can see the things in life, just delayed on
It really begs the question: Are you really feel supremely able to take on ishing and beautiful Gulmohar class, sharp­tongued lady hav­ affection in her eyes that are af­ track. You just have to keep an
from Venus? Am I really from Mars? Or do any job and the days I fail I feel tree stands amidst the buried ing breakfast. Out of nowhere, the other lady fixed in their direction even eye out for magic in ordinary
we all belong to the same home? unbearably miserable and wait ones, and what better example The elderly woman just sat offered part of her breakfast when they are long out of sight. journeys!
impatiently for the next train. of afterlife! The breeze in your with a hunched back, forlornly which she was eating (one Or the young brother, who
sibiwrites@gmail.com And what do I see from the hair gives a sense of freedom as looking at nothing and no one. meagre­looking dosa of which I can’t see her sister leave him mehndiratta.richa@gmail.com

Caring with dignity and empathy

As age and disability catch up, the narrative of life undergoes a once-inconceivable change More on the Web

thehindu.com/opinion/open-page
Sandhya Srinivasan slept well after we did, and ing her sari for her, after first there were some instant re­
never had the habit of nap­ helping her with her blouse. medy to this immobility that A changing ministry of care and cure
ery good! Now lift ping in the afternoon. She The hands that oiled and is slowing her down so In the matter of patient-doctor relationships,
the other leg to take dropped and picked us up combed our hair and sent us much. Even while I can see
‘Va step forward. Won­ from school on foot, manag­ to school in two tight plaits her frustration, we can at where do we stand today?
derful! See how much pro­ ing smoothly even when, for now wait on her lap while I least be grateful for the fact DR. AJITHKUMAR K.
gress you have made!’ This a while, her three children comb her hair. that her mental faculties are
was not me talking to a small were in three different Only after watching her unaffected – she is bright and Ode to the blackboard
baby but the physiotherapist schools. In spite of the fact struggle with simple daily cheerful most of the time. It will continue to have a lasting role
encouraging my 83­year­old that our family finances were tasks have I realised how Thanks to her, I have in teaching and learning
mother, and coaxing her to not good, she ensured that much we take our mobility learnt to be patient and let SUJATHA VIJAYARAGHAVAN
take one more step. The there was hot wholesome and dexterity for granted. It her do some things slowly,
same woman who once effi­ food always available, for us is so tough to do something even if I could probably com­ The seniors are here
ciently ran a crowded house­ as well as for the innumera­ as simple as folding a sheet plete them in half the time. I Increasingly they are finding their feet,
hold, providing for her hus­ ble guests who dropped in at * GETTYIMAGES/ISTOCK or unscrewing the lid of a think I have also learnt the
band, growing children and all times of the day. bottle or even scratching an art of helping just enough so growing wings pretty late in life
demanding brothers­in­law, On her feet all day, she itch when only one hand is that she is also left with some S. SIVARAMAN
was having trouble walking made time to attend music able to function efficiently. sense of independence.
without support. As I and shloka classes twice or I know she hates being de­ I can only hope that I have
watched him slowly egging thrice a week. She also rarely made her entire left side al­ the age of 75, slowly had to pendent on anyone, but been able to convey to her Contributions to this page may be emailed to openpage@thehindu.co.in to a
her on to move forward, I missed a play, music concert most immobile very gradual­ start using a cane, and then, does not have a choice. I see my pleasure in having her length of up to 700 words. Please provide the postal address and a brief descrip-
wondered if he would be­ or dance performance at the ly. The person who used to when she started losing her her watching me as I bustle around, and being able, in tion of the writer. An email id that is provided could be considered for publication.
Certify in writing that it is original material; The Hindu views plagiarism as a serious
lieve me if I told him how ac­ auditorium that was a 15­mi­ recite the “Soundaryalahiri’ balance and falling, was told about the house and my some small way, to do for her issue. Also confirm that the submission is exclusive to this page. Taking into ac-
tive my mother had been. nute walk away. while going for five or six to start using a walker. heart breaks when she pen­ what she did for us, selflessly count the volume of material being received, we regret our inability to acknow-
ledge receipt, or to entertain telephonic or other queries on the status of a submis-
As a child, I had never This same hyperactive la­ rounds of the ground outside The hands that taught me sively says, ‘I can’t believe I and tirelessly. sion. If a submission is not published within eight weeks, consider it to be out of the
seen my mother sleep. She dy now has to learn how to our house, and attended yo­ how to wear a sari are now also used to rush around like reckoning — in most cases owing to dearth of space. The publication of an article is
not to be seen as The Hindu endorsing the viewpoint in any way.
always rose before us and walk! A silent stroke has ga classes at the local park at still while I go around her, ty­ you once upon a time’. I wish sandhya.srinivasan@gmail.com
CM M ND-NDE
YK