His name was NEELAKANTHAN. Perhaps he didn't like it. As he was an admirer of Germans, he changed his name to Neil O Cant.
I am talking about my uncle’s first son. As he was anuj (aniyan in Malayalam ) to the eldest ( daughter named Devasena ), he was called Aniyan by all, as was the custom among us namboodiris. Let us call him Neel.
He was some two years elder to me, but knew much more than I. As both of us were friendless, naturally we were drawn to each other. He preferred a docile child like me (eight years at that time) to my elder brother who was very independent and outspoken. I had nothing to talk and I proved a good listener. Our friendship grew and he often came to our house just to enjoy my company.
We would walk some five good miles from his house at Peruvanam where I was staying, the school being so near to his house, to Amballoor where our mutual grand mother was staying with a member of Kunnathur Padinjaredath mana, as the latter had only a blind mother to do house keeping and grandmother was very helpful, even if maidservants were plenty to help. There we would stay during Saturday and Sunday, being holidays, enjoying idlies for breakfast, something rare in our houses, brench at 10 AM being the norm!
The trek along the bank of the river, most of the time, sometimes dangerously steep and a slip would land us in water, as it is near the tile factory, enjoying the green fields, was itself a treat to me. Recently, I made a replay of it, at the age of seventy five. I feel like a young boy of twenty even now!
Because of an unfortunate accident earlier, he lost eye sight of one eye and namboodiri boys of his age, who never went to school and were envious of the English speaking, though eccentric, rich boy, nicknamed him Shukran, the one-eyed Guru of Asuras of Hindu mythology.
He was intelligent and I fail to understand how he failed in the ninth standard. He again failed in the intermediate examination (now plus 2) in the Maharaja’s College at Ernakulam, again in B.Sc. at the prestigious Presidency College in Madras. Finally he went all the way to Aligarh Muslim University and secured a degree. As he wanted to become a scientist, he joined the National Physical Laboratory, Delhi some time in the fifties. He is said to have met Sir C.V.Raman.
When we were children, he said he won’t marry and he stuck to his decision. It was very sad that he stopped talking to me, owing to certain circumstances involving his sister Devasena in a love affair. Lonely and depressed, suffering from malaria, he jumped from the balcony in Delhi and ended his life.
He comes in my dreams at regular intervals when I am overjoyed to see my friend. Who said he is dead?
Alas! When I wake up the dream becomes sour.
I am talking about my uncle’s first son. As he was anuj (aniyan in Malayalam ) to the eldest ( daughter named Devasena ), he was called Aniyan by all, as was the custom among us namboodiris. Let us call him Neel.
He was some two years elder to me, but knew much more than I. As both of us were friendless, naturally we were drawn to each other. He preferred a docile child like me (eight years at that time) to my elder brother who was very independent and outspoken. I had nothing to talk and I proved a good listener. Our friendship grew and he often came to our house just to enjoy my company.
We would walk some five good miles from his house at Peruvanam where I was staying, the school being so near to his house, to Amballoor where our mutual grand mother was staying with a member of Kunnathur Padinjaredath mana, as the latter had only a blind mother to do house keeping and grandmother was very helpful, even if maidservants were plenty to help. There we would stay during Saturday and Sunday, being holidays, enjoying idlies for breakfast, something rare in our houses, brench at 10 AM being the norm!
The trek along the bank of the river, most of the time, sometimes dangerously steep and a slip would land us in water, as it is near the tile factory, enjoying the green fields, was itself a treat to me. Recently, I made a replay of it, at the age of seventy five. I feel like a young boy of twenty even now!
Because of an unfortunate accident earlier, he lost eye sight of one eye and namboodiri boys of his age, who never went to school and were envious of the English speaking, though eccentric, rich boy, nicknamed him Shukran, the one-eyed Guru of Asuras of Hindu mythology.
He was intelligent and I fail to understand how he failed in the ninth standard. He again failed in the intermediate examination (now plus 2) in the Maharaja’s College at Ernakulam, again in B.Sc. at the prestigious Presidency College in Madras. Finally he went all the way to Aligarh Muslim University and secured a degree. As he wanted to become a scientist, he joined the National Physical Laboratory, Delhi some time in the fifties. He is said to have met Sir C.V.Raman.
When we were children, he said he won’t marry and he stuck to his decision. It was very sad that he stopped talking to me, owing to certain circumstances involving his sister Devasena in a love affair. Lonely and depressed, suffering from malaria, he jumped from the balcony in Delhi and ended his life.
He comes in my dreams at regular intervals when I am overjoyed to see my friend. Who said he is dead?
Alas! When I wake up the dream becomes sour.
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