Today, I am alone in this house. I've been going through the book shelf as my father is planning to donate the books to the local library. Maddened by that threat, I've been searching for some titles I had last read at age 14 or 15, trying to save them for myself , worried that I might want to read them again sometime in the indefinite future. Who knows what lies ahead for all of us , the key to my good fortune could lie hidden in those yellow faded pages.
Then I suddenly remembered an old issue of a magazine we had saved though the twists and turns of time. It had once been under our coffee table, we had proudly shown it to people, then somehow one day it found it's place in the book shelf, still remembered and looked at, at times. When did it finally slip into complete oblivion?
It was one of the leading women's magazine at the time, and in those days those magazines had very few pages to devoted to fashion trends. They, in their simple, uncomplicated ways, inspired women to the rise above the clutches of the society.
The article was about women in unconventional jobs, and that issue featured a lady who was then, the assistant director of Fisheries, at a small port in northern Kerala. The 35 year old talked about her demanding job of raiding unlicensed motorboats and the talented journalist had flourished the article with many water chase scenes and encounters. Even now I doubt the authenticity of those details, but those were as thrilling as an old Sean Connery movie. There was a brief outline of her family, her supportive husband and three very young children, the youngest being only five years old. There was a picture of her, with three gawky looking children. She had thanked her loving elder sister for helping her raise the children as she had lost her parents at a young age.
I do remember the time when my mother worked at Beypore, she would often leave for work as early as four in the morning. She did stay with us at the time, but I remember feeling distant and unbothered.
I also do remember meeting a boat owner whose license was cancelled by her. I was at another aunt's house, he had come there to make a plea with my aunt. But he had threatened me, though I was only a child. I still feel a chill running through my spine remembering his bloodshot eyes. Life did 'turn the page', but I remember that incident crystal clear.
I do wish to look at those faded pages once again!
Then I suddenly remembered an old issue of a magazine we had saved though the twists and turns of time. It had once been under our coffee table, we had proudly shown it to people, then somehow one day it found it's place in the book shelf, still remembered and looked at, at times. When did it finally slip into complete oblivion?
It was one of the leading women's magazine at the time, and in those days those magazines had very few pages to devoted to fashion trends. They, in their simple, uncomplicated ways, inspired women to the rise above the clutches of the society.
The article was about women in unconventional jobs, and that issue featured a lady who was then, the assistant director of Fisheries, at a small port in northern Kerala. The 35 year old talked about her demanding job of raiding unlicensed motorboats and the talented journalist had flourished the article with many water chase scenes and encounters. Even now I doubt the authenticity of those details, but those were as thrilling as an old Sean Connery movie. There was a brief outline of her family, her supportive husband and three very young children, the youngest being only five years old. There was a picture of her, with three gawky looking children. She had thanked her loving elder sister for helping her raise the children as she had lost her parents at a young age.
I do remember the time when my mother worked at Beypore, she would often leave for work as early as four in the morning. She did stay with us at the time, but I remember feeling distant and unbothered.
I also do remember meeting a boat owner whose license was cancelled by her. I was at another aunt's house, he had come there to make a plea with my aunt. But he had threatened me, though I was only a child. I still feel a chill running through my spine remembering his bloodshot eyes. Life did 'turn the page', but I remember that incident crystal clear.
I do wish to look at those faded pages once again!
