Saturday, November 3, 2007

Kamatchi paati- A Short story

“God has created some people with some purpose and message. If you happen to meet any, please try to read the message god has sent”.

I’m coming to my town around ten years after my higher secondary education. Returning to the places where you have spent your youth days is always splendid. The same old streets, same old ‘Krishnan stores’ where amma usually buy her provisions, the same ration shop with long queue for kerosene (most part of which is sold black), the same wine shop where next house suresh uncle goes secretly fearing ambika aunty, the old tea stall whose origin is actually a traffic signal post where we had our first puff secretly, the same cycle shop where we hire cycles and wander for hours together even without considering hot sun, the same CEO office ground where we play cricket in weekends, the same fancy stores which once was a greatest place in the world where we get sports stickers, the same ‘surya hospital’ which supplies same tablets for constipation as well as diarrhoea or any other medical diseases, the same computer centre whose ‘windows 3.1 version’ attracted us and made us once boast that we too have learnt ‘computer’, the same photo studio which hardly produced good photos at first shot, making us to visit it many times for a passport size photograph ultimately delaying our process of getting bus concession due to delayed submission of forms, the same ‘state bank of india’ where my father was and still is working (the only difference is he is promoted twice since then), the same ‘S.K.S. talkies’ which releases all “rajini kanth” films first and therefore our favourite theatre, the same church which is the only place where I have seen my science teacher Mr.Ebenezar without a cane, and hell a lot of same things………. It seemed as if except me, there is almost no change anywhere.

Looking out through the window while waiting for breakfast, I happened to see that very old yellow painted small house. That is actually the house of old lady called “kamatchi” whom we usually call as “kamatchi paati”. Kamatchi paati since my childhood memory is an old lady with bent back, long face, dark wrinkled skin, big eyes covered by even bigger spectacles, a yellow rope to ensure that spectacles doesn’t fall even when she bents, grey short hair, khaki cloth bag in hand and old torn "lunars" slippers, embracing her feet. She can be seen in green and yellow sarees on alternate days for I believe she has only two sarees to select or wear.

Kamatchi paati led her simple life by cooking for some bachelors. The customers of kamaatchi paati were very loyal to her. The secret of customer’s loyalty can be traced from the incomparable taste of hot idlis which owes a special profile of kaamatchi paati’s idli making plates (those plates possess a complex shape due to aging and infinite handling occurrences)

Kaamatchi paati had always made me and everyone nearby to think about hard work. I have hardly found her taking rest. She did everything, however difficult may be, with love and enthusiasm. She used to call me as “laddu” as I was too fat then (even now). Her affectionate calling me as “laddu” helped her to harvest some little favours from me like going to shop for her, fetching water for her etc.

She has one son and two daughters. I have never seen anyone though I have heard that they are all nearby. She sometimes can be seen very depressed. That day she might have met her grand children and her daughter in law must not have allowed them to mingle with her. During such times my mother had been her only source to outpour her sorrows.

I think I had been thinking about kamaatchi paati for a long time; my little rippling thoughts were constrained by amma’s calling me for breakfast. She had made dosas and sambar for me. I don’t know whether it is because of her excellent preparation, I like it very much; whatever may be the reason, uncaringly I started my breakfast. Amma is special for her sambar. It is famous among our relatives too. The excellent aroma emanating from the cooked mixture of vegetables with dhal and sambar powder, a collaboration of various ingredients in definite ratio can’t be compared with anything. I think with sambar, I never wish to break my breakfast. By then, with the breakfast, my thought about kammatchi paati had almost vapourized and gone. At that time, our neighbour, sheela aunty knocked the door asking my mom whether she can spare a L.P.G cylinder for her. Sheela aunty is working in A.G.’s office and her tension in getting late was explicit in her face despite her trial in hiding it under her pretty smile. Sheela aunty’s asking for gas cylinder brought me back the memories about kamaatchi paati. Kamaatchi paati had a wonderful network of people around her with whom she exchanges gas cylinders regularly. She had enough orders and she is the most inefficient lady in using L.P.G. So her cylinders empty very quickly and she was forced to depend on others. And she faced troubles even there. One of her links in the network once cheated her by exchanging a duplicate gas cylinder. She had to pay the fine for which she had to work two more hours for one week thereby making her that week’s total working hours as one hundred and nineteen.

I had always wondered about kamaatchi paati. She hardly has something to eat everyday; yet her kindness and care is incredible. She never can see anyone starving. I have many times witnessed her giving her food to beggars and later suffer due to acidity. She got a marriage order once for sweets. When she came to know that the bride’s family is too poor to conduct the marriage, she did the order without any making charges for her..

Such incredible instances have occurred to me lot many times. I, unable to avoid my curiosity once asked her neighbour how and why she is so magnanimous. I didn’t expect that my question will give me a great flashback about kamaatchi paati. I never could otherwise have known that kammatchi paati actually was a rich lady who can’t see anyone suffering and donates whatever is available. It is god’s nature to place a good amidst bad, said my intuition. Otherwise, though Mr.kammatchi paati is as nice as her, how could her son and brothers be so rude? How could they leave her alone with no physical or financial support after her becoming a widow? But difficulties she encountered made her even kind and she helped others as far as she could. That may be the reason why raju, auto driver in our street never accepts money from her whenever she goes to market.

By this time I had finished my breakfast some how. Amma went to take a pain balm, for her hands must have started aching then due to my non-stop eating. I couldn’t avoid asking amma then about kamaatchi paati. Amma, after a brief pause told without enthusiasm and with a little grief that kamaatchi paati had been asked to vacate the little house by her owner. She is too weak by now and even her business is now weak like her. She had to shift to a much more uncomfortable little house in much more remote area to make her ends meet.

I felt sorry for her because that was the only possible thing for me to do then. I later went to meet my friends. The cheer in meeting them is always wonderful. We had elaborate chat. I ate with them and amma didn’t forget to admonish me for my lousy behaviour. My short holidays were faster than any time and I was leaving for bus-station after checking my packing under my dad’s supervision. I walked through the third cross street and entered the lane which leads to main road.

Suddenly I heard an old, much familiar voice. “laddu, can you please fetch me some water”. Yes, it is kammatchi paati’s voice only and I turned back swiftly. One small boy, busy in riding his bicycle told paati, “ what paati? You always make me fetch water.” I was intelligent enough to understand that this young gentle man is the new owner of paatis “laddu” name. An elderly person scolded the boy. That must be his father. The elderly man seeing me staring them smiled and told me “this old lady is one of the greatest human in the world. She saw an orphan and has adopted the child inspite of her difficult living. I respect her more than anyone in the world”. Kammatchi paati is still busy and working for her and for many others. I wonder how it is possible for anyone to be so ideal throughout. I won’t be surprised if someone say that she is one of the so called “messiah” or messenger of god to teach the world how to live even if you are subjected to infinite tests.

She is still the same though her laddus change often. I went wordless with tears trying to explore my shaved cheeks.

“God has created some people with some purpose and message. If you happen to meet any, please try to read the message god has sent”.

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