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!

 

From the pensieve 10

A girl walked into my physics class wearing chained glasses, midway through the lesson, and sat next to me. She looked distracted, as if she was stuck at a wrong place. I believe the lesson was about relative velocity, she tapped her pen continuously on the desk as we solved the mysteries of moving trains, which always ran faster or slower than we thought. During the break, she incoherently started talking about her music lessons, how her sister, the music teacher was giving her a hard time.

I walked with her to the bus stop that day and I found out, that the music was not the only thing. She painted, played violin and wrote poetry. I'm sure she was glad to find a good listener. She jumped from one topic to another with the inherent impatience of a multitalented mind. She removed her spectacles a few times and rubbed her nose when she took a moment to breath. And then she continued, of course there was a lot to say, and good listeners are hard to come by.

I often wonder, what are the odds that we stick to people, keep having them in our lives year after year, decade after decade, listening to brilliant yet completely crazy ideas, the hits and misses with success?

Anyways, here we are 21 years later.