RAJIV, THE UNFIT, IS NO MORE

RAJIV, THE UNFIT, IS NO MORE

          “We can’t bear it any more.  There is a limit for everything.  Actually, it was the tenth body that we took to the Government Hospital for the Post mortem and then to the burial ground.”  

These were the words of Sudhakaran.  Sudhakaran’s wife was the ward member of Oorngattiri Panchayath in Malappuram District, Kerala.  Therefore, he was an inevitable person everywhere in that Panchayath.  When we enquired the direction in which we had to go, to reach Rajeev’s house, it was the grocer who directed us to Sudhakaran, who was drinking black tea in a nearby teashop.  The moment we uttered the word ‘Rajiv’, he rose his hackles up.  

“Why have you all come so early?  It will take at least two hours to get the body buried.  So, will it not be a trouble for you to wait for two hours?  Why should you suffer like this?  It is our fate to suffer.  We, the good for nothing fellows are created for this.  It is our fate to take the dead bodies from the Muduvan Colony to the Taluk hospital for Post mortem.  We have to arrange for money to bribe both the doctor doing the post mortem as well as the menials who lay the body on the stretcher to be taken back.  Then we have to bring the body and get it buried.  However, this time we are fully aware of everything.  You can’t play tricks on us anymore.  You have to pay us every single paisa that we spend for this boy.  We know that you have provisions to meet all the expenses for the burial of the Scheduled tribe boy."

 However, he became embarrassed when he came to know that we were teachers from the school where Rajeev studied and not ICDS staff as he thought.  From the next second, he transformed himself to be a kind and considerate person to us. 

.  He guided us to Rajeev’s house that was at the top of a steep hill.  On the way, Sudhakaran apologised repeatedly for his rude behaviour towards us.  It took twenty minutes to reach the house.

Mailady colony was very different from other tribal colonies that I have visited earlier.  There was not a single house near Rajeev’s house.  The nearest one was around two hundred metres away.  The body of Rajeev was still on the stretcher.  We wondered at the physical strain that the stretcher-bearers had suffered to bring the body from the bottom of the hill to the top. 

On seeing his face, I recollected him sitting in the last bench of VIII-C classroom.  Though I didn’t teach him, I used to go to his class to distribute uniforms and collect bus fees.  So, I could remember him.  He was a healthy boy. 

But, his mother, two younger brothers, and a younger sister were all very weak.  Their big eyes echoed more of fear than grief and pain. 

There were only fifteen people to take part in the burial ceremony.  Someone came to Sudhakaran and informed that the grave digging was over.  He asked Rajeev’s mother whether any other ceremony to be done before burying the body into the grave.  She said nothing to be done.  He asked her to drop at least some water in the mouth of Rajeev.  She said it was not necessary. 

Sudhakaran and his friends took the body to the grave.  All our eyes were filled with tears.    However, no tears in the eyes of his mother.  She went inside and came out with a few school uniforms and a bag of Rajeev.  

“Put all these things into the grave.  We don’t want any of his belongings”.

When we were left with the mother and children, I asked her, “Why did he commit suicide?”

“I don’t know.  He was such an adamant boy.  What to do” was the answer from her.  “Yesterday when I got up in the early morning, I found him hanging in this cashew nut tree,” She added. 

“Rajeev’s hostel had been closed due to Onam holidays.   But, he was not seen on the opening day. If he had come to the school after Onam vacation it could have been avoided”, Sasi, the cook of the hostel who accompanied us said.

Sudhakaran and his friends came back after burying the body of Rajeev.  When I was about to give thousand rupees to Rajeev’s mother, Sudhakaran didn’t allow me to do so. 

“If you give, she will go to the toddy shop and drink.  She will either spend or miss the whole amount and use filthy language against us.  If you want to help them, come with us to the shop down the hill and buy some rice and other grocery items and give to them”. 

We asked the mother to send Rajeev’s brothers with us to the shop.  She sent them with us.  On the way, I asked Sudhakaran whether he knew why Rajeev committed suicide.

“We can’t bear it anymore.  There is a limit to everything.  Actually it was the tenth body that we took to the Government hospital for Post mortem and then to the grave.  Sir, it was not a suicide.  It was a cold-blooded murder, no doubt.  Did you see the cashew nut tree where it was said that he hanged himself? 

It won’t bear the weight of that boy.  Moreover, it was said that weak mother and other children cut the rope and brought the body down to the ground.  These are all impossible.  When we took the body to the hospital, we found both his testicles crushed and damaged.  Why should a boy, who has decided to commit suicide, damage his own testicles before committing suicide?  This hill is visited very often by VIPS especially at night in luxurious cars.  In olden days Aristocrats and Royal Men used to go for hunting.  Now, different types of rich magnets have started visiting this hill not with guns but with liquor and drugs hunting the helpless tribal women and girl children.  How many decayed bodies we had found and taken to the Government Hospital for Post mortem and then to the burial ground, you know?  They were all brutally raped bodies.  As Rajeev’s mother is accustomed to the exploitation, she won’t agitate or shout against it.  Police would come and inquire these tribal people.  They would say that they didn't know anything.  Either they are afraid of the people who are exploiting them or they are supplied with sufficient liquors and drugs to keep mum.”

“Didn’t you see Rajeev’s mother?  She knows what happened to her son.  But, she won’t say anything, even if the same thing happens to other children.  She will tolerate.  She believes that they have to suffer like this.  She is alive because of her submissive nature. 

Her husband Nadi was found dead one fine morning near the stream.  After his death, the human flesh-seeking hunters got full freedom to hunt in the hill.  It was Nadi who opposed them to some extent.  Rajiv was Nadi’s son.  We heard, last week, Rajeev drove away a few human flesh-seeking hunters, with a knife when they came to disturb his mother.  Therefore, we believe that the human flesh-seeking hunters must be behind this murder.  We won’t bear this anymore.  We must take this matter to the higher officials and Political leaders.  If the number of human flesh-seeking hunters increases, they will extend and expand their territory to the nearby area where we live.  We won’t allow them to do so.  We have approached the youth wing of different political parties and asked them to do something against these atrocities done to the innocent tribes of their land instead of agitating against the atrocities done to Bengalis, Palestinians, Syrians and Egyptians”

These words of Sudhakaran kindled fire even in our heart.  We appreciated Sudhakaran and wished all success to him for what he was doing.  Though the hill was helplessly dark and deep, yet we had promises to keep and return to our home after giving Rajiv’s family some rice, sugar, and necessary groceries.  But, mind is still revolving around the hill.  I need more minds and hearts to revolve around the hill.  Then only we can give moral and physical support to Sudhakaran who has decided to save the innocent Muduvan tribes from the human flesh-seeking hunters of Mailady colony in Malappuram district.  I also pray the Omnipotent and wish all those who happen to read this too to pray that what happened to Nadi shouldn’t happen to Sudhakaran.  Let us look around our society and try to raise and extend our support to avert such atrocities that happen to the innocent people. Our Society badly needs people like Sudhakaran.


All photos that are given and incidents described in this narration are fictitious.  If any similarity is identified with any one it is merely accidental.
Photos courtesy: Internet

Mr. Pillai, I’m sorry I can’t help You

          

Mr. Chithambara Nathan Pillai, I am very sorry.  I can’t help you.  I won’t help you anymore.  Do you know what happened to me in the children’s educational film festival that took place at Kozhikode recently?
  

Do you know how old I am?  I am fifty years old.  At this age being pelted by rotten eggs and tomatoes, that too for your sake.  It is pathetic.  How many times I told you that it is Kerala not your Tamil Nadu.  Malayalees will show interest only on sexual harassment and bribery issues.  You simply turned your deaf ears towards my timely advice then.  However, nothing has happened to you.  Rotten eggs and tomatoes pelted on my forehead and cheeks.  Do you know what did they say when they attacked me?

“How dare you to bring a filthy drama like this to our fest.  What do you think about the audience of this fest?  The people who have assembled here are not only lovers and observers of good films but also makers of good films.  To such a place bringing a historical drama of 15^th century, that too acted by freshers.  So, you devil, get this as our token of love and respect”

Thoughtlessly, I took my wife, children, and a few of my neighbours with me to the festival.  Within a few minutes, the audience became restless and shouted to stop the film and exhibit the next film.  Therefore, I could not sit inside.  I left the hall holding my mobile as if I had an urgent call.  My wife and children, who were fed up of seeing the audience restlessly shouting to stop the film, did not see my face with the messy things.  Somehow, I was rescued by the police officers and volunteers and taken to the washroom where I washed the mess.  When I tried to go back to the hall, they warned me.

 “Sir, it is not advisable.  There would be a worse attack again.  Therefore, we shall arrange a taxi and you may go and wait at the Railway station.  We shall make arrangements for your family too, to join you in the station.”

I had to listen to them and no other go as there was a possibility of another attack, a worse attack, if they happened to find me again in the premises.  Therefore, I grabbed the chance to escape.  My family joined me at the Railway station and surrounded me with suspicious looks.

“What happened? Why are you here without attending the festival?  Any problem? We saw you with some mess of tomatoes and eggs on your face!  Lot of questions posed at me.

I cleverly managed “Oh that one!  It was just a facemask to brighten my face you know!  Some television channel is about to interview me about this fest.  So, I was getting ready that is all?” 

“Oh I see!  Anyhow, I should trust your words.  Actually we got a different meaning for that mess.”  My wife chuckled mischievously.

Then I succeeded by saying “The audience had mistaken the drama thinking that it was against the belief of Hindus in Kerala.  In Kerala, all Hindus are said to believe in Lord Vishnu.  There is no any section known as Saivites here in Kerala.  So, they could not tolerate the clash between the devotees of Lord Siva and Lord Vishnu”.   In a way I convinced them to some extent. 

However, I know very well that it was not the clash shown in the drama created the problem but the drama itself caused restlessness among the audience.  Nobody could follow and understand the drama.  If it had been written in Malayalam, they would have tried to understand.  But, it was written in English.  That too in 20^th century English without the key words of the so called Modern English words like ‘shit’, ‘hell’, ‘wanna’, ‘gonna’, ‘yaar’, ‘aint’, and ‘o.k’.  How many times I begged you, Mr. Pillai, to approach a journalist to translate your Tamil dialogues.  If you had done, he would have successfully added all the necessary flavours and ingredients in the dialogues.  You simply placed the heavy load on my head despite my warning.  I know the reason behind it.  You tried to complete this short film with forty thousand that you had in your hand.  Therefore, you trapped me saying that I was fluent in English.  Yes!  I know English.  I can speak and write in it.  But with limited vocabulary and structures.  I studied in Government aided schools, was taught English by Science and Social science teachers in my high school classes.  I never got chances to watch Cartoon network or movies in Television during my childhood days as the blessed children of present generation.  Therefore, I translated your lengthy Tamil sentences in English.  Only then, I got a chance to understand the drama.  Your drama is wonderful.  However, the wonderfulness can be enjoyed only when one goes deep into your drama.  To go deep into it one should have a reasonable knowledge about the social history of Kerala and at least know the basic difference between Dvaitha philosophy and Adhvaitha philosophy.  But, in this speedy modern world, nobody will take that much effort to understand a drama of an unknown person.  Mr. Pillai, you are not well known here.  The great M.T.Vasudevan Nair had succeeded in twisting the incidents that took place in the history of the great Unniyarcha where as you tried to have a twist in the life of Mahabali and HiranyaKashibu.  You know that it was not a twist it was the real happenings.  

Do you know who is Mahabali here in Kerala now?  He is a strong Vishnu devotee, having a broad mark of Vishnu on his forehead with an overhanging belly and walking along the road with a palm umbrella during Onam season to promote business and delight Malayalees with the voice of a well-known comedian.  They don’t have any complaint for that great King being cheated by Vamana who sent him to the underworld.  They believe that Mahabali was not a good and kind king but an Asura King and a threat to Devas.  As Lord Vishnu punished him, they believe that Mahabali became a blessed Asura. 

They have not heard about your Seerkazhy Chattanatha Swamy who took revenge on Lord Vishnu for his cruelty on Mahabali.  Your Chattanathan after killing Vishnu wore his skin after removing it from his body and thus got the name Chattanathan of Seerkazhi.  Though both are poorly fabricated stories, Malayalees have been exposed to the first one.  Therefore, they won’t accept that Vamana a Brahmin ascetic from the Land of Gothavari River trapped Mahabali and sent him to the forest after receiving three boons from him.  In the same way, they won’t simply accept that Hiranya kashabhu was also killed by a lion while smashing a cage of a lion unknowingly on the demand of his son Prahalad.   Prahalad the scapegoat of his Vaishnava gurus was said that he was unaware of the treachery.  Such findings even if they are genuine the modern Keralites won’t accept.  Even, Ulloor, the great poet of Kerala tried in his poem and miserably failed.  They never think and analyse the unprofitable dead past.  So, it is not that much easy to divert their attention on this type of issues.  So, Chithambara Nathan pillai, it is better to stop these kinds of correction in the religious field.  Nobody is interested to squeeze his or her brain for these ‘good for nothing’ issues.

         

The next day, I turned the Newspaper and got a great relief not finding the rotten egg news.  But I was greatly disappointed to find the comments of Sindhu George in Desabhimani.  There were only three films in English.  Among them, one was a documentary.  When she mentioned all films in Hindi and Arabic, she pointed out that ‘Disguise’ was the only film in English.  Our Mahabali wasn’t considered even in the category of English films.  Instead, she found fault with a few films with defective visualisation and boring actions.  Do you know who this Sindhu George is?  A well-known critic.  Daughter of the great revolutionary poet, George.  Even such a critic failed to understand the film or did not want to say anything good about the film.  So, it is crystal clear, better to stop this type of expensive risk.  I have decided not to commit the same mistake again in future.  So, leave me alone.  If you are not convinced yet and willing to take these types of risks again, go and approach Rajesh Pandit.  He is the talk of the time.  He has revolutionised the film industry with the very first film of his.  He is an all rounder too.  So, he will be helpful to you.  Leave me alone, Mr. Seerkazhy Chithambaranathan Pillai, I am very sorry.  I can’t help you.

FROM LOVING AND LOVABLES!

I am Thulasidharan V Thillaiakathu, English teacher interested in writing and making short films in English based on our culture and characters of our land as a study material for the student community to improve their English proficiency and language skills.  Co author of this blog is my best friend in my life.  Both of us are very positive, enthusiastic with a unique bond of friendship discussing a lot of matters that we are going to edit and narrate the content together that we are going to speak through this blog ......mmmmm wait 

My friend, the chatterbox is coming....you know my friend keeps on talking something without a gap and of course I like it very much but have never told my friend…....look, are you able to hear the voice?

Hei! Old man! What are you doing?  Without my knowledge writing something about me to the readers?  How dare you man!

Who is old man? Me? What about you, you oldie....

Oldie?!  Who?  I am sweet 16 always!

Oh! Sweet 16!? With this gray hair?!  Of course it is common for oldies nowadays, calling themselves teens wearing western outfits!  (My God!! look my friend is rolling her eyes and staring at me and I am going to get a severe pinch)

Ha! How about you man! You are also a gray hair man! You have just dyed it and appear as if young!  Yeah!  I heard people around you saying “Sir looks very young”.  Oh! You look handsome!?  Don’t be proud! I know you are deceiving them by this dye.  I am not.

You are jealous of me hearing their words right?  Take my words you also look quite young with some wrinkles here and there ok?  Is it enough? Or you want me to say......okay  okay  don’t get angry….just a fun….. (Look at my friend’s face! Rage is to the peak.....)

Fun? You naughty! I do not need your words.  I know myself.  Come on, what did you say to the readers about me when I entered?  Chatterbox?  Here after I will not speak a single word to you...let me see how you manage...

Thank God! I am relieved! Perfect silence around! I can think and write a lot! 

Hei! What?  So, you want me to leave?

Never! I want you here! With your pen!

Pen? You want me to write in this blog? What will I write man?

Not You or I.  We! We are going to write as we planned and discussed earlier about the events that happen around, our experiences, happenings in our life.  We are going to give lessons in English grammar.  And stories, articles and what not?  Everything that we experience and observe around but, a good content.

Mmmm let me try…..to write something…….still I am angry with you…you called me oldie…

Ha! Ha! Look you are speaking!  I know you can’t stop your chatter.

I will not speak anymore….my mouth is shut…….pen is opened…… (In action)

You put all your chatters on the paper.  But you should not use your bombarding words and stylish language, and words like gonna, wanna, aint etc…… My students also may visit our blog.  So, it should be simple and even the layperson should follow it as we are going to give a good content.  It should be useful to them and they should benefit from this blog learning the language … okay? Give me your hand; let us present this blog together.

Yes! My sincere English Teacher! You have proved it you are an old man!  Not allowing me to use the present English language words! Anyhow, I abide by your words and bow myself to this teacher to present this blog along with you very happily! 

Well, we both playfully, affectionately tease each other all the time and these kinds of playful, naughty dialogues, petty quarrels with affectionate friendship that takes place between us give sweet memories of our age old friendship.

This Thillaiakathu welcomes all readers with extended hands wholeheartedly to enjoy or criticize our chronicles.  We believe in critical analysis and reading in between the lines whatever we hear or read.  Yes! We expect your comments, criticisms which will benefit and encourage us to improve our blog with good content.