We, the boys of Kannur have an attitude. An attitude to have an accent that can be deciphered only from Ponnani and north of it. Valluvanad will do ok, but Travancore will suffer to make sense. So sometime in 1980 or 81 when a four year old, with tears in his eyes asked around "n'dammene-kkandinaa"; "n'dammene-kkandinaa"; not many of the mothers who came to pick up their young brats and beauties got what the kid was really after. Till my grandma came into scene to pick me up from school. "n'dammene-kkandinaa"; "n'dammene-kkandinaa"; the kid went again. "Illalo mone, ndamma aediyaa poyineee?". "Nee ende koodey vanno" She had left Kannur in 1970 and had been in Kochi and in Calicut (at the time of this event), seamlessly integrating the nuances of the Malayali accent. But she wasn't to leave an opportunity to connect with a little boy who spoke her native accent or the boy stranded in school. That day Anil P came home till his mother came back from work. That was my first initiation with Anil P, whom I would be with till standard 5. From that day till we moved to another rented house 1 kilometer away, Anil would stop by in the morning to check if I was ready to go to school.
I moved schools in standard 5; Anil moved school and his house to the other side of Chevayoor. But we still met; at the Bazaar or the Post Office occasionally till Ouseph Sir decided to put us in the same tuition batch in 10th standard (or was in 9th?). " Anil, marks parayoo, Malayathinu ethra kitteee? Englishino?" [Ouseph sir was part Malayalam Vidwaan and part Economist. Economist for the reason that he would ask for your overall performance in school after every term examination and would make a reasonably good estimate of what we would end up getting in the Final examination]. He was going around the table and it was Anil's turn now to communicate his marks in all the 12 papers one wrote for SSLC. Anil would do it and write it down at the back of his tuition class copy immediately. He had to, as his exam scores always had 3 versions to it - The version he told his mother; the version he told Ouseph sir and then, the reality.
I moved schools in standard 5; Anil moved school and his house to the other side of Chevayoor. But we still met; at the Bazaar or the Post Office occasionally till Ouseph Sir decided to put us in the same tuition batch in 10th standard (or was in 9th?). " Anil, marks parayoo, Malayathinu ethra kitteee? Englishino?" [Ouseph sir was part Malayalam Vidwaan and part Economist. Economist for the reason that he would ask for your overall performance in school after every term examination and would make a reasonably good estimate of what we would end up getting in the Final examination]. He was going around the table and it was Anil's turn now to communicate his marks in all the 12 papers one wrote for SSLC. Anil would do it and write it down at the back of his tuition class copy immediately. He had to, as his exam scores always had 3 versions to it - The version he told his mother; the version he told Ouseph sir and then, the reality.
Even after he moved to central kerala to do his Bachelors and Master in Occupational Therapy, we would still meet at the same places near Chevayoor, when on end year breaks.
Talked to him over phone, a year ago, when he was going through a situation of personal distress. Even then his "Nee Ippo aediyaa?", made me switch to the best malabarese I wait for to talk to someone to.
Talked to him over phone, a year ago, when he was going through a situation of personal distress. Even then his "Nee Ippo aediyaa?", made me switch to the best malabarese I wait for to talk to someone to.
Last month my brother showed me a familiar face in orkut and asked me "Is this your friend Anil?".. There was a moustache and the expanded version of the initial "P"; but the man still remains, the classmate who came home clutching my grandma's finger the other day.
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