pavalamani pragasam
15th March 2008, 11:11 PM
A Lambretta story translated for our Lambretta-loving hubber, Lambretta:
A short story published in this week's Anada Vikadan, written by A.A.H.K.Gory under the title, 'thaniye...thannanthaniyE..!'
Alone...all alone..!
My friend Santhan who lives in Jaffna used to say that when the people of Jaffna referred to Trichy All India Radio station & Chennai All India Radio station they always said 'Trichy Radio Ceylon, Madras Radio Ceylon'.
Just like 'dalda' came to mean vanaspathi(vegetable oil) & 'tortoise' to mean mosquito coil, 25 years ago 'radio' meant only Radio Ceylon. Similarly the word 'scooter' stood for Lambretta. Only when Lambretta later got shortened to Lamby that I had the good fortune to ride a scooter. My father-in-law sanctioned me a scooter, a year after my marriage. 'Me' does not mean exclusively to me! I was the driver. The driver appointed to take his daughter, that is my wife, round the areas of Tirunelveli & Palayamkottai. Not that I minded it. It irked my self-respect a bit. It couldn't be determined whether it was self-respect or false prestige.
For the purpose of continuing family ties I had been dumped on her or she on me. There are 3 cars in my father-in-law's house in Colombo. Daddy car, mommy car & baby car. Daddy, mommy & daughter, all three knew driving. A single driver looked after all the 3 cars.. When I visited them as a new groom I knew driving...ha!
The baby car was allotted to the newly-wed couple for sight-seeing. Only the small car was right for a man of small stature like me! When we had to visit neighbouring places like Nikambu, Penthetta, Kandi & Silabam one of the bigger vehicles was allowed for our use. Also the driver along with the car! When we were driving in the car I asked my wife what was the driver's name.
'Don't know' she answered very indifferently.
'what..you don't know?'
"What is there in it to be so startled? I just don't know'.
'How long is he in your service?'
'May be 3 years.'
'You say you don't know the name of a person working here for 3 years?!'
'What does it matter? Have you nothing else to talk about? He is our driver. All of us call him driver. You may also do so, do you understand?'
At least she had the decency to mention the word 'driver' with respect was all that I could console myself with.
At times when we happened to tour around alone in that small car she was content to sit beside me giving me full freedom to drive. Since I was unfamiliar with the streets of Colombo she kept telling 'left', 'right' as we proceeded. But her sense of responsibility would not allow her to stop with that. I wasn't to damage her daddy's car by driving it wrongly, right? 'Blow the horn', 'press the brake', 'don't overtake here', 'don't go so near the edge', 'change the gear'...such taunts from her did try my patience.
This story about the car is 26 years old. Let us now come to the 25 year-old story of the scooter. A great revelation dawned on me on the day I took delivery of my(?) Lamby from the A.R.A.S. depot in Washermanpet. Though I had learned to drive a car I had no proper training in driving a scooter. But I knew the theory. So it was a thrilling experience when after the mechanic kicked it to start I took it off its stand, changed gear, turned the accelerator & started driving on. A thrill similar to the one I felt when I learnt to ride a bicycle in my boyhood! Lamby came under my control very easily. But it needed great effort to bring my wife under control. This scooter is bought by her father. She believed it was her duty & responsibility to protect it from miscreants (including me).
When my cousin studying P.U.C. in Pettai college wanted to take a ride in it I generously gave him the key & sent him off. What I did not know was that he didn't know driving properly. You know what the rascal did? Locked the handlebar keeping it straight, turned on the ignition to start & screwed the throttle after mounting on it. Caught in the predicament of not being able to turn this side or that, not being free to balance, the chap plumped within 3 centimeters. The scooter fell was what mattered more than his fall. As if she had been waiting for this golden opportunity she began a tirade:'Whose scooter did you dare to give to who? Would you have been so irresponsible if you had bought it with your money?' etc., etc.,
Lamby scooter is well-known for playing pranks. It would be well-behaved when I rode on it alone. It would reveal its nature when my wife was sitting behind me. When we set out on Sundays for matinee show it would stop when we were half way. I would have to struggle with it under the scorching sun. While I open the side door, check the petrol flow, take out the spark plug to wipe it, put it back & kick the vehicle repeatedly .. my wife would stand aside in the shade of a tree lavishly showering nonstop invectives on me.
Later, when I got transferred to Chennai, the scooter travelled with us in Nellai express. It has carried me on the broad Mount Road, the narrow lanes of Parrys Corner & crowded T.Nagar. But when I rode with my wife it had diligently betrayed me. In spite of its having been the cause of my receiving from her countless, different, variegated, peculiar rebukes, I had somehow got very attached to the vehicle.
Later on, when very smart two-wheelers manufactured by companies with foreign collaboration started swarming the Chennai roads, Lamby's production stopped & the company vanished away. Lamby began to feel shy to ride abreast new, superb vehicles. It began to fall ill out of inferiority complex. Besides, I was promoted to officer cadre. When I brought home a Maruthi 800 bought with office loan Lamby's service was no longer required. It was offered VRS. My son who is younger than the scooter flew to the US after finishing engineering course.
'Need we endure this eyesore at the entrance of our house? Why don't you dispose of it?'
The scooter must have heard these harsh words shouted by my wife one day. It looked very sad. When I dusted & washed it once in a week it would look at me thankfully & desolately at the same time.
As the proverb goes the elephant is worth thousand sovereigns while alive & after death, similarly I got scolded when Lamby was healthy & also when it was ailing!
I could understand its feeling of remorse for the rebukes it earned for me by the pranks it played in its youthful days of hot blood. I patted it with compassion.
One day my wife left for Colombo impelled by desire to see daddy & mommy. Before leaving she warned me tauntingly:
'When I return I shouldn't see this ugly thing here! OK? Don't just nod your head! Be serious!'
Whether I was serious or not, Lamby's condition had become very critical. Euthanasia was inevitable!
I consulted 2 mechanics. It was fit for giving away in exchange for date palms was their unanimous opinion. While I was wondering what I could do with that much of dates in my wife's absence, a hawker riding a cycle attached with a broad carrier asked me,
'Shall I take this for a lump sum, sir?'
He decided himself the rate & said, 'thousand rupees'.
'It is good for nothing, sir! It might fetch me 500 rupees if I sell its parts disassembling them. I heard you are from Tirunelveli. I am from its neighbourhood- Kongarayakurichi. I am forced to live here in Madras for my livelihood!'
He came back with a hired fishcart. When he & the fishcart driver tried to lift the scooter on to the cart I also lent a hand. Both my heart & the scooter weighed heavy. A sense of guilt & sorrow akin to one while driving away an old, useless cattle to abattoir filled my heart. I bade goodbye to my good old Lamby after caressing its body with fondness. My eyes turned watery. I gazed at it till it disappeared from my sight.
One year had elapsed. Yesterday, when I was idly turning the pages of last year's diary to kill time, I discovered tomorrow was the sorrowful day when I had sent my Lamby to the abattoir. My wife approached me when I was just recalling the sad incident of my Lamby being separated from me.
'I know what you are thinking about. Shall I tell you?' she asked.
'mm' was my answer.
'Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary! You are thinking about it, aren't you? Well, on the last anniversary I was in Colombo. What were you doing here, alone?'
Is she capable of understanding if I said I truly became a loner on that day?
A short story published in this week's Anada Vikadan, written by A.A.H.K.Gory under the title, 'thaniye...thannanthaniyE..!'
Alone...all alone..!
My friend Santhan who lives in Jaffna used to say that when the people of Jaffna referred to Trichy All India Radio station & Chennai All India Radio station they always said 'Trichy Radio Ceylon, Madras Radio Ceylon'.
Just like 'dalda' came to mean vanaspathi(vegetable oil) & 'tortoise' to mean mosquito coil, 25 years ago 'radio' meant only Radio Ceylon. Similarly the word 'scooter' stood for Lambretta. Only when Lambretta later got shortened to Lamby that I had the good fortune to ride a scooter. My father-in-law sanctioned me a scooter, a year after my marriage. 'Me' does not mean exclusively to me! I was the driver. The driver appointed to take his daughter, that is my wife, round the areas of Tirunelveli & Palayamkottai. Not that I minded it. It irked my self-respect a bit. It couldn't be determined whether it was self-respect or false prestige.
For the purpose of continuing family ties I had been dumped on her or she on me. There are 3 cars in my father-in-law's house in Colombo. Daddy car, mommy car & baby car. Daddy, mommy & daughter, all three knew driving. A single driver looked after all the 3 cars.. When I visited them as a new groom I knew driving...ha!
The baby car was allotted to the newly-wed couple for sight-seeing. Only the small car was right for a man of small stature like me! When we had to visit neighbouring places like Nikambu, Penthetta, Kandi & Silabam one of the bigger vehicles was allowed for our use. Also the driver along with the car! When we were driving in the car I asked my wife what was the driver's name.
'Don't know' she answered very indifferently.
'what..you don't know?'
"What is there in it to be so startled? I just don't know'.
'How long is he in your service?'
'May be 3 years.'
'You say you don't know the name of a person working here for 3 years?!'
'What does it matter? Have you nothing else to talk about? He is our driver. All of us call him driver. You may also do so, do you understand?'
At least she had the decency to mention the word 'driver' with respect was all that I could console myself with.
At times when we happened to tour around alone in that small car she was content to sit beside me giving me full freedom to drive. Since I was unfamiliar with the streets of Colombo she kept telling 'left', 'right' as we proceeded. But her sense of responsibility would not allow her to stop with that. I wasn't to damage her daddy's car by driving it wrongly, right? 'Blow the horn', 'press the brake', 'don't overtake here', 'don't go so near the edge', 'change the gear'...such taunts from her did try my patience.
This story about the car is 26 years old. Let us now come to the 25 year-old story of the scooter. A great revelation dawned on me on the day I took delivery of my(?) Lamby from the A.R.A.S. depot in Washermanpet. Though I had learned to drive a car I had no proper training in driving a scooter. But I knew the theory. So it was a thrilling experience when after the mechanic kicked it to start I took it off its stand, changed gear, turned the accelerator & started driving on. A thrill similar to the one I felt when I learnt to ride a bicycle in my boyhood! Lamby came under my control very easily. But it needed great effort to bring my wife under control. This scooter is bought by her father. She believed it was her duty & responsibility to protect it from miscreants (including me).
When my cousin studying P.U.C. in Pettai college wanted to take a ride in it I generously gave him the key & sent him off. What I did not know was that he didn't know driving properly. You know what the rascal did? Locked the handlebar keeping it straight, turned on the ignition to start & screwed the throttle after mounting on it. Caught in the predicament of not being able to turn this side or that, not being free to balance, the chap plumped within 3 centimeters. The scooter fell was what mattered more than his fall. As if she had been waiting for this golden opportunity she began a tirade:'Whose scooter did you dare to give to who? Would you have been so irresponsible if you had bought it with your money?' etc., etc.,
Lamby scooter is well-known for playing pranks. It would be well-behaved when I rode on it alone. It would reveal its nature when my wife was sitting behind me. When we set out on Sundays for matinee show it would stop when we were half way. I would have to struggle with it under the scorching sun. While I open the side door, check the petrol flow, take out the spark plug to wipe it, put it back & kick the vehicle repeatedly .. my wife would stand aside in the shade of a tree lavishly showering nonstop invectives on me.
Later, when I got transferred to Chennai, the scooter travelled with us in Nellai express. It has carried me on the broad Mount Road, the narrow lanes of Parrys Corner & crowded T.Nagar. But when I rode with my wife it had diligently betrayed me. In spite of its having been the cause of my receiving from her countless, different, variegated, peculiar rebukes, I had somehow got very attached to the vehicle.
Later on, when very smart two-wheelers manufactured by companies with foreign collaboration started swarming the Chennai roads, Lamby's production stopped & the company vanished away. Lamby began to feel shy to ride abreast new, superb vehicles. It began to fall ill out of inferiority complex. Besides, I was promoted to officer cadre. When I brought home a Maruthi 800 bought with office loan Lamby's service was no longer required. It was offered VRS. My son who is younger than the scooter flew to the US after finishing engineering course.
'Need we endure this eyesore at the entrance of our house? Why don't you dispose of it?'
The scooter must have heard these harsh words shouted by my wife one day. It looked very sad. When I dusted & washed it once in a week it would look at me thankfully & desolately at the same time.
As the proverb goes the elephant is worth thousand sovereigns while alive & after death, similarly I got scolded when Lamby was healthy & also when it was ailing!
I could understand its feeling of remorse for the rebukes it earned for me by the pranks it played in its youthful days of hot blood. I patted it with compassion.
One day my wife left for Colombo impelled by desire to see daddy & mommy. Before leaving she warned me tauntingly:
'When I return I shouldn't see this ugly thing here! OK? Don't just nod your head! Be serious!'
Whether I was serious or not, Lamby's condition had become very critical. Euthanasia was inevitable!
I consulted 2 mechanics. It was fit for giving away in exchange for date palms was their unanimous opinion. While I was wondering what I could do with that much of dates in my wife's absence, a hawker riding a cycle attached with a broad carrier asked me,
'Shall I take this for a lump sum, sir?'
He decided himself the rate & said, 'thousand rupees'.
'It is good for nothing, sir! It might fetch me 500 rupees if I sell its parts disassembling them. I heard you are from Tirunelveli. I am from its neighbourhood- Kongarayakurichi. I am forced to live here in Madras for my livelihood!'
He came back with a hired fishcart. When he & the fishcart driver tried to lift the scooter on to the cart I also lent a hand. Both my heart & the scooter weighed heavy. A sense of guilt & sorrow akin to one while driving away an old, useless cattle to abattoir filled my heart. I bade goodbye to my good old Lamby after caressing its body with fondness. My eyes turned watery. I gazed at it till it disappeared from my sight.
One year had elapsed. Yesterday, when I was idly turning the pages of last year's diary to kill time, I discovered tomorrow was the sorrowful day when I had sent my Lamby to the abattoir. My wife approached me when I was just recalling the sad incident of my Lamby being separated from me.
'I know what you are thinking about. Shall I tell you?' she asked.
'mm' was my answer.
'Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary! You are thinking about it, aren't you? Well, on the last anniversary I was in Colombo. What were you doing here, alone?'
Is she capable of understanding if I said I truly became a loner on that day?