Death in the family

Death is a strange phenomenon. It affects the living more than the dead. While the departing soul could rest in peace those left on earth have to face the consequences. Sometimes a death may change the entire future of a family.

At the age of seven plus I lost my father. It happened all of a sudden. It took me some time to realize what had happened. The mere news of his death did not disturb me. I was unaware of what it meant. Then came the interpreters who explained in plain terms what it would cost me: “You would have no money, no food, no toys since your father is no more.”

Then the truth dawned. I was wailing loudly for two days and none could console me. The wailing even increased when others joined in chorus. 

Funeral and religious rituals over, we - myself, my sister and mother- felt alone in the world. Time seemed to have stopped. The world outside looked fearful and gloomy. It was as if the sun had sunk below the horizon forever.

With two children aged 10 and seven plus my mother was at a loss what to do. How could she face the world, which no longer looked friendly. There was no dearth of counselling, though. The neighbours and the next of kin offered words of advice. Following Shakespearean counsel, though unconsciously, she gave her ear but not her voice. Fortunately for us, children, she discarded all advice given so generously and even without invitation. The sum total of the advice given to her was to send the boy (That's me) as an apprentice to a village grocery and the girl (My sister) as a domestic aid in a well- to- do family. The counsellors could not be blamed. There was nothing else to do. Perhaps they themselves would have resorted to such practice had the same fate befallen them.

My mother had other plans. She wanted to give the two of us the best education within her means. She did not want her children to suffer the same fate that befell her. She was good at studies. After her primary education her teachers wanted her to continue studies to become a teacher. However, her parents thought too much schooling was not necessary for a girl child. She could not get her remorse off her chest.

She had no means. She was only a housewife with no permanent or even temporary income. How could she educate her children? She was worried about the security of the children. They needed a guardian. She entered into a new marriage hoping that the step father would provide security and educate the children. It was, however, a catastrophe. Soon he began to ill - treat my mother and my sister. I was too small to be physically ill treated. He was demanding my mother to transfer the ownership of our house and land to him. With a dagger aimed at her chest, he was threatening to kill her. Mother begged for time and asked him to find the money to pay the lawyers. In the meantime, with the help of my father' half- brother she transferred the property to her children. As both children were minors my paternal uncle, who provided logistical assistance was legally appointed as the custodian.

At the same time mother complained against her new husband accusing him of ill-treatment and with the help of the local officials secured a separation ending a brief but tormenting experience for the family. Finding that there was no property on which he could lay his hands, the good old rascal was never sighted by us thereafter.

How was she to find the means? Fortunately, my sister had got through the Grade 5 Scholarship examination. That looked after her tuition and boarding fees. Scholars at that time also received free school uniform material. Though I was considered brilliant at school I failed the scholarship test. The syllabus was not covered at school and I could not answer some simple questions in the Mathematics paper.

She started selling whatever movable property – furniture, father's wood-work tools etc. that could be dispensed with to lead a stoic life. As long as I was in the village primary school it could suffice.

Children went to school bare-footed. There was also a glass of milk given free to school children which very often accounted for my breakfast. There were also no travel expenses as we walked to and from school. On rainy days there was no umbrella to shield oneself from rain but we used a banana leaf to cover the head. Besides it was fun to get wet.

The only income for the family was from the cinnamon plot in the home garden and the yield from the small paddy land our family owned. Both these incomes were not stable and adequate. Besides they incurred some expenditure too for their upkeep. My mother undertook a difficult mission to weave coir yarn, a laborious process that starts with beating the coconut husks soaked in water for days and then extracting coir for making yarn. The entire process of weaving was manual with no help from any mechanical device. Besides she had never done so earlier. She used to sit with one or two women from the neighborhood and weave till past midnight each day. However, the income was very meagre and did not suffice even for a hand-to-mouth existence. 

The food subsidy that was there at that time was a boon. We could purchase rice and sugar at concessionary prices. Finding three meals a day was a big problem. I know mother had foregone many a meal and was content to have a plain tea without sugar as a meal. When I come home for lunch after school, I made it a point to look at the pot to find out whether enough rice was cooked and if not, I used to leave half my meal for the mother. On many a day we ate plain rice with scraped coconut sprinkled with salt water for there was nothing to cook at home. Incidentally it is a delicacy I still relish. If you have not tasted it, please try at once. I am not joking, but serious.

On days we had salted fish with meals it was a celebration. For us there was no question of a wholesome diet or a nutritious or tasty meal. We had meals only to keep ourselves alive. Anything beyond the bare needs was a luxury that we could not afford.