Memory is the process of taking information, processing and storing them in a particular area of brain. When I relax and reflect on the past, certain bitter and not so bitter memories come into my mind. In this blog let me share with readers some memories that stand out for me. Some readers can relate to these pleasant, bitter or traumatic memories in their teenage years.
Learning process is through associating an incident with past memory. Recently when I watched TV news of vegan protesters throwing milk and food, I suddenly recollected how I had encountered similar situation. The incident is about food pelting many years ago in a college day event. My brother in law's brother Antony, who was an engineering student at Trichur, Kerala used to visit us occasionally. Once Antony, invited me for a College day dinner as a guest. I had never been to a college hostel mess before and as such I was excited.
During the dinner, one of the miscreant shouted that he did not like the chicken curry and he threw a drumstick at the mess organiser. Then everyone seated for dinner copycatted him and started aiming at each other and the mess hall was strewn with chicken, rice, parottas and vegetable. Someone aimed chicken portion at Antony’s face, but unfortunately it struck on my face and shirt. In the end there was no food, and the college students paid the price for their utter wickedness. When I reached home my mother was fuming with anger when she saw my shirt with yellow stain, as such I did not tell her that I was hungry after coming back from dinner!
St.Thomas hostel was just behind our house, where another relative Jacob was residing who was pursuing BSc physics. He was tall, handsome, dropping names and always talked in stylish malayalam. My mother occasionally invited him for Sunday lunch and every one at home was eager to enjoy his sarcastic conversation and bragging about his achievements. He encountered certain issues with Kerala University, and wanted to sort it out through the influence of my uncle C.V.Francis. My uncle then was the education secretary in secretariat at Trivandrum and Jacob had asked me to accompany him while travelling to Trivandrum, which was nearly 200 miles from Thrissur. He paid for both of us on fast passenger bus to Trivandrum.
As the bus approached Trivandrum, Jacob mentioned that he needed bathroom. Suddenly the bus stopped, ahead of a blockage, and he just went out to relieve himself in a nearby bush. To my dismay, the bus suddenly started moving, and I told the conductor that my co-passenger had gone out. After 15 yards or so the bus stopped, and I saw Jacob running behind the bus. As he sat, he was gasping and I looked at him in an infective laughter mood, only to hear from Jacob “ Don’t think I am scared, if the bus goes, so be it, I would not have come without finishing my business”.
Just behind our house, Devassy chettan was running a corner shop selling cigarettes and cycle hire. His wife Elya was much younger, as he remarried the younger sister of his former wife after her death. Devassy Chettan was amicable was seen occasionally pumping the flat tyres of his bicycles in an amusing manner. They had six children from both marriages of Devassy Chettan. All of their family were residing behind the corner shop. There was a rumour that they used to hire out damaged cycles and charge the hirer for damage on return of the cycle.
Elya was very vocal and aggressive, and my mother had issues with her on a number of occasions. Once when our kid (young goat) did not return with mother goat as usual, I went out in the evening to search for it in the nearby area. When I had tired of searching, my mother enquired whether I had asked Kari Chakku and Elya about it. Kari Chakku was a vexatious, foul mouthed lad who used to abuse passer-by pedestrians along the narrow alleyway called Cheeramban’s Vettozhy. Normally he was seen camouflaged with charcoal dust, as his duty was filling charcoal in gunny sacks for selling.
Those days I was not comfortable with Kari Chakku and hence I went first to the corner shop of Devassy Chettan. I cannot believe my luck when I heard the bleating of a kid inside their living area. Seeing Elya on the till, I at once asked her whether she had seen our kid. Immediately she grinned, went in and brought our kid. Pretending innocence, she asked “Is that the one you are looking for?” and added that she brought it in as she thought it was a stray kid. I controlled my emotions, grabbed the kid and went home without making a scene.
I just completed School final (SSLC) and joined in Pre degree biology,physics and chemistry two year course in St.Thomas College, with an ambition to pursue medical career. Back then, there were eighty students in the B Group class, seated alphabetically. I was seated in the second row, and there were five of us on each bench. Just behind our bench there was a domineering character called James Malayil. His talking was like babbling which earned him a lot of nicknames.
Around that period, I was very active in our parish Church affairs, and used to render my services as a volunteer to control crowd in church festival. While I was controlling the crowd inside the church on the festival day (Sunday)wearing a volunteer’s rosette, a middle aged lady rushed to me and told me excitedly that she had found an aranjanam (waist bracelet) on the floor of the church. She handed over the gold aranjanam which I felt to be weighing about 3 sovereigns (24 grams). She handed over it to me in good faith so that the owner would get it through a proper lost and found system. Those days, I did not have the procedural know how to get the name and address of the finder. At the hand over of the duty to the next volunteer Rappai, I briefed him about the incident.
Next day was Monday, the last day of the festival, when the local church goers make generous offering to the deities. I thought of handing over it to the senior priest of Dolours church in the evening as he would be less busy at that time. Monday being a college day, I thought of going to church after the college time. I wrapped it in a paper and put it in my shirt pocket. During the lunch time, I could not control telling the incident to my college mates sitting on my bench. That James, sitting behind overheard my talking and he wanted to have a look at it. I pretended not having it, but he noticed the small packet in my shirt pocket, and grabbed it without much physical struggle. I asked him to return it , but he would not and he ran away.
On Tuesday while I was in the lecture hall, I was embarrassed to be summoned by the police sub inspector, Phillip sitting in the police jeep. He reported that the owner of the ornament had come forward and Rappai had told him that I had recovered the aranjanam. I agreed that I had the ornament, and thought of handing over it to the vicar. But, Johnson snatched it and he refused to hand it back to me. Phillip charged straight into the lecture hall and dragged James out of the class, when other students were jeering at the police excesses. Being the son of an influential person, I later learnt that everything was hushed up by James and the aranjanam reached the real owner without more drama.
The above was a learning curve, which taught me how to be prudent and to take matters through due procedure. During my youth, I had opportunities to interact with a lot of people in different walks of life which helped me profoundly in my future life. I treasure these unique experiences.
Dr. C J George FRCS
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