PARU FROM USA

 

The melodious voice in the background follows like this :

 

Parvathy after a prolonged absence is back in her home State, back at her home on the shores of sacred river Pampa.

 

While in USA, whiling away her lone moments inside her 25^th floor apartment always longed fort the proximity of her near and dear ones, parents, sisters, cousins and close relatives. Emotional and sentimental she is even in her early 30’s she sobs sometimes hiding her head over the pillow, her mind flooded with memories. Her dreams of her beloved ones take wings and flies with the ease of a bird flapping its wings in other words swim through the space effortlessly like she swam through river Pampa with sisters and cousins.

The melodious voice continues :

 

Husband leaves early in the morning to his office, driving his car down the streets and is expected to return only in the night. Till he returns she is alone in her flat, mind flooded with memories, being an introvert prefers to be inside the flat always and her long lonely moments inspire her to pen poems, all nostalgic smells of her land, river and verdant surroundings.

 

Badly missing one’s dear ones, something painful and needling and craving for their proximity, care and love, all natural. “Isn’t that’s so”- the voice asks.

 

The prolonged absence, away from home and the shocking news of a few dear ones departing to their heavenly abode unbearable to her and she sobs uncontrollably. Helpless she would lie on her bed, pondering over her immemorable moments with the departed soul, the moments she relished with them. Such sorrows would last for days and the heaviness of the heart gradually starts to subside. But a loss is a loss and the vacuum remains to be there for ever.

“Such is the way of life that human beings have to contend with at any point of time in life” – thus goes on the philosophical soliloquy of the melodious voice in the background, with a painful tone.  

No that she is back in the company of her most beloved father, mother, sisters, cousins, aunties and close-relatives, what she misses most is the proximity of her loving and caring husband who couldn’t make it to Kerala along with Parvathy. The only relief being though it is a temporary phase, a reunion certainly after a gap of one or two months. Parvathy can very well come to terms with it. Particularly in the modern era of cell-phones and internet.

 

Parvathy’s memories are closely connected with the sacred river Pampa, ever flowing crystal clear Pampa just in front of her home.

 

Her childhood days always come to her on watching Pampa flowing like a shy village lass in her anklets. First in the company of mother, sisters and cousins, she took her first dip in the river. ‘Where is that little child gone’? – Parvathy would ask herself sometimes with puzzle in her eyes. ‘She is still with you, Paru still a part of you’ – Her Ammoomma (Paru’s Ambotty) the one who was most dear to her seemed like whispering in her ears, she felt so. That made her elated and delighted. But Ammoomma’s departure from her life was the most shocking and painful loss to her. (The camera focuses Parvathy unsuccessfully tries to suppress her painful feelings notwithstanding tears run down her cheeks. She tries to cover her eyes with her palms.) After the holy dip in Pampa in the company of her beloved ones, visit to the nearby Siva Temple, Lord Siva’s darshan, all praying with folded palms across their chests, the sandal paste and flowers, thulsi, koovala, chethi….then the customary obeisance before Nandikeswara, Siva’s vehicle (bull) a few feet away praying before him asking for whatever boom one wished to achieve, believed to have materialized like a long-cherished dream getting fulfilled.

Walking along the shores of Pampa with sisters and cousins, all would share the days they spent together for hours in the river swimming and playing to hearts’ content and as punishment for spending too much time swimming in the river, the scoldings and thrashing they had to undergo by their parents though past incidents still worthy to be cherished, the melodious voice lowering her tone like a whisper goes on : Parvathy unlike others more emotional, sentimental, hyper-sensitive still keeps the habit of weeping, sitting alone at a secluded place and that hyper-sensitivity remains her companion.

 

Walking along the shores they felt like replicating the past, all decided together without their parents’ consent, grown-up they are now, dived into the river, swam and played to their hearts’ content for hours without, wiping out the wetness of each’s hair and body and in wet clothes walked to the temple, prayed before Lord Siva, Parvathy’s a ever loving Siva and once she prayed for Siva’s Parvathy, if not Parvathy at least his Ganga, as usual walked towards Nandikeswara bowed down before him each secretly poured out their sorrows and wishes still remaining unfulfilled, walked down to the shores of Pampa once more each sat in a row and oblivious of the surroundings sang a devotional song like little children singing songs aloud.

 

They saw parents coming down from houses in search of them concern flashing through their eyes all walked up and on seeing them shivering with cold and also in fear, parents’ laughter knew no bounds.

 

‘Still thinking you are those kids of yester years’?

 

Parvathy, sisters and cousins gave them company by laughing aloud.

 

‘But note kids, Pampa you see today is quite polluted and her sacredness and purity, our wishful thinking.’ While uttering those painful words, Parvathy’s father’s face also turned grim and painful.

‘But Pampa is Pampa, father, it is our rock-like belief that matters.’ – Parvathy’s face reflected love and devotion to Pampa, the sacred river.