LIFE Since My Life...

A prompt of God!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 04 Apr 2025 13:19:00 +0000

Sometimes, inexplicable moments catch us off guard. Occasionally, an instinct or a timely nudge guides us just when we need it. That’s exactly what unfolded today! Isa, my ever-relaxed companion, rolled out of bed around 11 a.m. and promptly parked herself in front of the TV, engrossed in some captivating, brain-twisting show. Steffy had stepped out earlier but left Isa with a simple task: turn off the stove under the pressure cooker after three whistles. Easy enough, right? Well, not quite. Isa, completely absorbed in her TV marathon, lost track of time—and the stove.

I was out on the balcony, buried in my own work, when I started counting whistles in the back of my mind. Three? Five? No, we were well past ten. Something didn’t feel right. I called out to Isa to shut off the stove, unsure if Steffy was even home since I’d been so focused. Moments later, I spotted Isa shuffling into the kitchen. But she lingered there longer than expected. A gut feeling tugged at me, urging me to check on her. Dropping everything, I bolted inside.

What I saw stopped my heart: Isa, oblivious and curious, was fiddling with the still-hissing pressure cooker, trying to pry it open! The lid was seconds from giving way, a disaster teetering on the edge. I don’t know what came over me—panic, instinct, or something else—but I yelled at her to get out of the kitchen. She bolted, and thank goodness she did. The cooker’s lock had loosened just enough to hold the lid in place, sparing us from what could’ve been a catastrophe.

Later, Isa admitted she had no idea the cooker could explode. It hit me hard: these are the kinds of things we need to teach our kids—how everyday objects like stoves, pressure cookers, gas cylinders, electrical outlets, medicines, or even pesticides, often within arm’s reach, can turn dangerous in a flash. I paused to thank God for what felt like a miracle, a perfectly timed intervention. Moments like these make me believe there’s a bigger plan at work. I really do.

Life Lessons from an Unplanned Dinner Drive

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 28 Jun 2024 20:06:00 +0000

On a random drive back from an unplanned dinner, my daughters, brimming with curiosity, threw a question at me that many parents dread: "What should we aim for in our lives?"

"Should I become a lawyer?" my elder one, now in her 8th grade, asked with a serious look on her face.

"I think it would be fun to be a business owner," chimed in the younger one, a spirited 4th grader.

I chuckled to myself, not because their ambitions weren't valid, but because I hadn’t given serious thought to their careers yet—probably because I'm still figuring out my own (haha).

But I knew this moment called for something more meaningful than a casual, offhand remark. So, I took a deep breath and told them two things.

"Firstly," I said, "you must aim to be independent in life. Independence doesn't mean being solitary; it means having a distinct vision for your life and making your own decisions with confidence."

They nodded thoughtfully, absorbing my words.

"Secondly," I continued, "aim to be a happy person, no matter what. Happiness is most rewarding when it springs from within you, rather than relying on others to provide it."

My philosophy might not have been the most entertaining lecture they’d ever heard, and it certainly wasn’t the kind of career advice one expects. But it felt right. I glanced at them in the rearview mirror, hoping my words resonated in some small way.

Soon enough, they went back to listening to their favorite song, their faces lighting up with the joy that only music can bring. I smiled, content with the evening’s impromptu lesson, and drove on, the road ahead open and full of possibilities for all of us.

Hello World!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 20:41:00 +0000

Hiiii, im just sorting this!

Rightly Left?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 10 Sep 2010 02:49:00 +0000

I denied doing a favor. Purposely and so wittingly for the first time in my memory. The boy who waved his hands from the bus-stop wouldn't have felt bad as much as I did, mostly because he would be doing it every day for commuting and a thousand of other bikers would be doing what I just did. The bike was not at a great speed, even though I did not bother to stop and further tried to hurry through the quiescent traffic before Akruti park road in Andheri East.

Would the boy have actually felt bad? Or did I do the right thing, by not stopping, so that eventually the boy would realize that no one would stop for him and revoke this habit of asking for lift? What if a kidnapper halts for him? Or if a molester tries to lure him with a lift? Am I justifying myself?

MatriMONEY!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 06:02:00 +0000

I'm seeing this Matrimonial ad since last 2 years, if I'm not wrong. Same girls, same face, same names! If these people can not get grooms for such beautiful girls in the last 2 years, what is the whole purpose of doing this? My humble doubt! :)

Life is a game of Football!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 05:20:00 +0000

Yes, if we analyze, the missed opportunities are much more than the scored ones. Frustrations are more prevailing than those cheering moments and applause! But a goal, even if only one in the entire game, makes for all the 'misses' and keeps us walking heads up!

Warning; be sure you are not shooting at your own post :)

Bye, I need to sleep now.

WORLD CUP! IT'S HERE!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 05:30:00 +0000

There is some kind of ecstasy I feel, whenever hearing about FIFA World Cup. Though my country is not eligible to play in it, even though it's not my national game, I feel within me, a kind of addiction towards this game of the world.

I heard that in Kerala, there is a parallel mock World Cup, comprising of many local clubs named after those legendary soccer countries like, Brazil, Argentina, England, Germany etc. Their local heroes, though in front of a local audience and for a very short time, would play as the legendary players like Messi, Ronaldo, Beckham etc. Whoever wins or losses, the game of Football will win ultimately.

I support Argentina, England, Portugal and Japan! Who will you yodel for?

To download FIFA WORLD CUP Schdule as per IST, please click here.

Laila is coming!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 20 May 2010 12:55:00 +0000

Yes, coming very fast! Should we wait or should we run?

Goddess of Love!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 08 May 2010 18:36:00 +0000

What melts my eyes most is my mother's love. Without the love she bestowed in me, I wouldn't have been able to write this, today.

The blames she received on account of her naughty sons and daughter, the nights that she forgot to sleep in our study room, the tensions she had willfully gone through during our examinations, the variety of food she made everyday against each one’s demand and the disapprovals whenever the food did not click, the silences and deep breaths when we gave her hurts, the smiles that we failed to recognize; her life has been fared bad!

Despite all this, I go ahead and wish her a Happy Mother’s Day and kisses! This wouldn’t make any difference but I think from this moment, I can make myself a better son to her!

And your mother! I wouldn’t know her, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing her! Here is her Happy Mother’s Day! Convey my love to her!

Mother; she knows only to love, but when we are not there to recognize her love, we are stopping a river from flowing, a flower from blossoming and spreading its fragrance around!

Dessert: I used to call my mother 'Aunty' till I became 4 years old. I had learned that from my elder cousins who used to stay with us during then and call my mother 'Aunty'.

Wishing You A Blunderful Day!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 08:25:00 +0000

See see, I hardly have many loyal readers here, and since I’m in a strenuous effort to keep you cling to my posts, not attempting any foolish pranks on you and make you feel foolish for landing up here!

Hence I thought to summing up with some raw blunders happened to me and my friends in the twelve months since last April 1. (During last April Fool’s day, I did some chivalric attempts to fool my office mates and you can see that ‘project report’ here and another one belonging to 2008, here :) )

2 months back, I was coming against a one way route at Santacruz and which was absolutely, honestly and tragically without my knowledge about that one way pulse on that route! At first I felt something wrong with the road, as I could see a lot of motorists coming against me but very few on my direction, but I kept going cool. The few rickshaws and bikes that were going in the same direction as mine, soon leapt into the small branches of the road before I suddenly came into this junction where another road met.

Luck was mine I thought, seeing a cop standing there, busy with his job! I should ask him, I felt, whether I could go ahead on the same direction. He saw me, my dilemma I firmly thought, and asked me to wait for a minute. So kind of him, I thought, and felt bad for disturbing him during his work. I removed my helmet and cooled my head. He took some 3 minutes later and came and captured my license! Let the rest be a secret.

I got married. For some, it would sound to be a bigger blunder. But for me it’s never! Never! Never! Never! (My wife reads this too)

A friend of mine, a very close friend, had a craving to visit a dance bar. I had denied him from going for that and he knew I would never like it if he ever did that. On the day some of his friends came to visit him, he went missing for a night. In the mid night he called me to say that he was safe and on the way to visit some hill-station with friends. But after the conversation, he forgot to switch off his cell-phone, (in the excitement) and what I could hear was only flirtatious talks and seductive songs.

April fool is about love; love for pranks :) . If you are a good prankster, wishing you a great hunt ahead, and if you are not, wishing you lots of free slaps!

Click here to see a prank by Rediff. Shared by Nagaraj. Haha, April Fool you are :) (only this much now)! Actually Click Here!

The Wake up Call

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 02:42:00 +0000

We woke up listening to the untimely ring of the land phone! It was about 5 in the dawn! I kept listening to Ebie, who took the call! The deep sighs and dismay in her voice clearly told me that someone had passed away. In vain, I prayed and waited for something better from her tongue.

It was about a neighbor's death in Thrissur.

I'm particularly afraid of calls incoming early morning! I somehow feel that those are only to announce a dear one's death! They come only to keep us up on the bed, thinking the most painful thoughts. They come only to talk about someone's journey, a never ending journey.

Let's Celebrate Earth Hour

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Let's switch off the way we use the natural resources! Let's spread the message! Let's join with the world and shut down the power from 8:30 PM to 9:30 pm today.

Click to know more about Earth Hour

Story of an old man goes this way! A young boy saw an old man planting a mango tree on the roadside.
The young boy asked, 'Uncle, what foolishness are you doing? It would take several years for this plant to become a tree and bear fruits on it; by that time, you would probably be no more"

The old man replied; "Son, I know that I would die soon and would never get to eat a fruit from this tree, but tell me something, by the time you grow up and when you want to eat mangoes with friends, where will you go for it? That is why I'm doing this, this is for you and not for me"

When Karunakaran sir was teaching this story on the 1st standard of N.S.S LP school in choorakode, I did hardly understand the meaning behind it. But now today, in the midst of recession, global warming and Tsunami, the moral of such a story becomes the only hope. Switching off lights for 1 hour wouldn't save us from the threatening power shortages and immediate death of natural resources. But this can serve a strong message to thousands of minds, reminding them of this great duty they are otherwise about to miss, doing for their future generations!

Once again, let's switch off and pass the message!

My First 3 Sins in Bombay!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 10:18:00 +0000

During my first local- train journey in Bombay and I got caught by a ticket examiner at Dadar. I had thrown away my ticket after the one way's travel, never realizing that my ticket was meant for two way journey.

On my first attempt at an ATM near Wadala, the card was wrongly inserted and it was eaten up by the machine. On the bank, I could not reproduce my signature. Hence I waited till the card came back to my address.

The first ride on my brand new bike. I got caught at Kandivli, as the bike was not yet completely registered.

What exactly was Nithyananda doing?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 12:38:00 +0000

In our 'dirty' eyes, he is having some (adult only) 'fun' with Ranjitha.

But in the eyes of God, who, in the first place has 'appointed' him, it can be that he is seeking a kind conscionable answer to some celestial dilemma, or a drop of archangelic ambrosia, which a lot of Godmen have already tried but failed. Also, it could have saved the world from its tantrums if he was not peeped by a hidden camera and we didn't have a cinemascope telecast of the same. Who to blame now, none with the normal human brain would stand to realize this flawless 'job of almighty' that he was carrying out. We would need 'sexth' sense for it.

Don't want to spoil a post by talking only about Nithyanada and moreover why am I bothered about his seeking and how that relates to my channel of life? Yeah got it; while sensing all these slapstick hoo-ha around me, it is a similar Godman's story that youtubed into my memory.

I had hardly spent 10 years in this world while this young Godman appear in our village, Edamon. He came to our village following his marriage alliance with a girl from our village. He was seen as such a nice peace of human being, always talking about divine interventions required in our daily lives. Everyone started noticing him as he gradually took the lead in the weekly prayer meetings conducted at various households.

In the prayers, he would give a speech, enriched with great verses from the Holy Book, and bring in examples from what he had experienced so far. All faces would fix on him and he would unlock his treasure of Godly wisdom. As days grew up to months, the number of attendees increased and most of them were ladies. There was nothing to blame about it; after a week's household chore, any woman would consider it a right option to attend the prayer meeting, especially when it was led by this young wiseman. As his fame spread over, people even started taking him home for personal prayers and blessings. They found him such a blessed soul and even if not Him, the 'next-best-man' to Jesus Christ!

Things came to a sudden-halt very soon as the Godman got caught at one of his lady-disciple’s house. It was not the hidden camera, but the 'hidden husband' of that lady who caught him seeking the same orgasmic answer, which Nithyananda has been seeking for. The funniest part of the story was that this Godman had an affair with this lady long time back before they both came into married lives. And it was a planned way to get back to his old-lady-love that made him dress the ‘wiseman's’ role!

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FW: Hugs and Kisses!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 10:14:00 +0000

Prabhachechi had called just like that. She wanted to call me 'santhane' after a long time. That is how she calls me from childhood. (She used to call Achachan as 'Paatta' till lately; which means a cockroach in Malayalam. She also keeps an ‘edie-podie’ relationship with Amma. So comparatively, I've been fared decently).

As the talk ploughed down, she asked "Santhane, have you sent any SMS to Achachan last week?"

I said "No.. I haven't"

"Sure?"

"Yes I’m sure, but what SMS?"

"With Kisses and all"

"What??"

"Yeah.. Seems like a SMS from Ebie"

"Whaaaaat? Ebie has sent to Achachan?"

"No.. It is from your number.. So you must have sent it"

"What else there in that"

"Yey, Nothing much!! Some more kisses.. That’s all". She stopped, giggling.

I cut the phone. SMS from Ebie has been forwarded to Achachan! Whataplight? Whattosay? Whattodo?.

I called again and asked her to delete it. She said she had already discussed the happenings with Vino and Jaiho (Jaimol) and now there was no meaning in deleting it!

Previously, Vino had forwarded a message to Ebie that wrongly went to Daddy (Ebie's Pa). The content was like this "Nee po Maramakri" (Frog).
You will be surprised to know that this had happened even before our wedding has been fixed. Daddy was upset for sometime because he did not know who had sent this to him. Apologies had been made.

SMS. Short Messaging Shockers!

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Future Politicians

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 07:14:00 +0000

Beggars normally won't get a chance to be choosers, but they can be effective sellers at times! That's what I had witnessed last week at Mahim and made me stand awestruck for a minute.

As I was already late to start off for Mahim church last Wednesday, I thought I should not park my bike, which would eat up at least 15 minutes to park, and five rupees. Instead, I chose to stand beside the church, on the main road itself, while our 3G, ('the Sreejith'), who was with me, had gone to offer his prayers. It was then I saw the 'beggar business' around me.

Like bees surrounding a hive, there were hundreds of beggars around the premise and sadly, a large number of them begged not for their stomach's yearnings, but for their nerves' cravings (by consuming drugs and alcohols). I could also see a lot of donators, who (rather than giving monies in the wrong hands), lavishly gave eatables like biscuit packets, bread-packs and sandwiches to these beggars.

The business started soon after each donor left. As I closely watched the entire scene, I saw many 'collectors' coming and buying these ready-made food packets from 'selected' beggars and going back (I guess to the shops again). They gave some money to the beggars per packet, which was seemingly a half of the actual price. This means, for a 10 Rupees Buiscuit he received, a beggar could get 5 Rupees from the collector. Look again, 10 biscuits = 50 Rupees.

A mini-political style right?

Why shouldn't we nominate these 'begsinessmen' to parliament? They could play a Financial Advisor role!

War Against Tamil Nadu!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 18:47:00 +0000

I have two close friends, Kartheesh, who was my classmate during PG, and Nagaraj, my colleague at Yahoo. Both are sons of Tamil Nadu!

I normally start my conversation with these guys with a fight in vernacular.

"Enikk innariyanam... mullapperiyarile vellam jnangalkku kittumo illeyonnu!! (Translation- I want to know right away, whether we, Keralites can take the water from Mullaperiyar Dam or not)

Or

Nee Jayaramine idikkarayi alleda?? (Are you upto beating our actor Jayaram, huh?)

Or

"Tharilleda...pachavellam tharilla jnan... nee aadyam ulliyude vila kurakk, ennittavam bakki" (No.. I won't give you even a drop of water.. first of all you cut down the price for Onions, we will talk afterwards")

Finally Kartheesh stopped calling me. Nagaraj, I fear, will take me to Dharavi and beat me up with his Gunda leaders there.

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Dealing with Death!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 17:33:00 +0000

Standing at Kandivali railway station in the mornings at around 9 AM would remind us of many cruel facts of life including the Darwin's 'Survival of the Fittest'. Trains would come and go, but no one would get in or get out except some muscle-powered-friends. In between, many of the Lilliputs like me would get hurt, tampered, pulled down, walked and ran over, sandwiched and bread-rolled by the maddened crowd or sometimes even ‘bubblegummed’ by the iron-hearted trains. Some others would climb the trains' roofs in search of solitude, but most often their destiny would meet up with an 'electrified ending.'

I had been a regular Local train commuter from Kandivali to Lower Parel in the mornings. There had been days when I pitied myself for waiting endlessly for a less-crowded train which I could aboard safely. In the very first glimpse, if the train had given me some hopes, symbolically looking like a sprout on the empty horizon, it would come closer soon, but only to encourage frustrations on my physicality and disquiet on the will-power dysfunction. Most often, the trains weren't fully crowded, but the unconcerned scoundrels standing at the doorway would make it hazardous for others to get in, so that they could stand comfortably. Within the few seconds' halt, the trains would move on, accompanied by rags and paper-scraps in the air, appearing like curses from the thousands who were left behind, thwarted.

One day, after leaving almost half a dozen of trains, I decided to board the forthcoming train any how. By the time the train arrived, I prepared myself for the impending fight, taking a deep breath to hold as much Oxygen and stretching my hopeless muscles to get-set-go at the right time. As the train came, I somehow managed to get hold of the train's door clamp. Except my palms and edges of my shoes, the whole body was out of the train and as the train started to move, I realized that the person standing in front of me was so unconcerned about moving into the compartment. My pushes ended on him as he was a senseless bulky mass of human flesh. The laptop bag hanging on my back aided my worries as each moment go, it weighed more. The train had gained a good speed by then, like the non-stop bhajan started by a group of passengers, was reaching its culmination. The next station was nowhere in the visibility as I stared earnestly. It became difficult for me to stand anymore.

My hands became weak and body shivered. I tried telling the fellow that I was about to fall down. He did not listen. In the next moment, I hit the man with my right hand using all the power left in me! He screamed and pushed himself into the compartment. Like a meek attachment on him, I too got in.

What followed was very shameful! The man undressed his mouth and wielded his dirty tongue mossy of bad words! Suddenly the bhajan stopped, the talks stopped and all eyes got fixed on me and the giant man. All his abuse was in Hindi or Marathi and hence I did not understand almost all of it. However, I felt bad for what I did.

"Pudi station.. Andheri" The Announcer reminded! The giant man's screaming now came to an end as he got stuck between the door and a huge crowd that was pushing him towards the door. He was forced to get down at Andheri and while getting back to the train, he again got himself fixed on the door panel!

No one was seen beyond him.

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Wishing You an Ideal 'HOLI'Day!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 11:57:00 +0000

Let there be color-bottles being crushed on your Head! Let there be color-slaps all the way you go home! Let there be color bombs blasting at your home!

Let there be rainbows bowing in front of you! Yeah, all through this year!

Wishing you all the CMYK and RGB Colors! Wishing you a Happy HOLI-DAY!

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NEW LOOK

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 10:09:00 +0000

Hi,

I have bought a new 'Gown' for my Blog; A pepper-colored party wear! It has two praiseful wavy fillets on both the sides, which is enough to have a lot of useful scoops from now on!

Leave a comment on how it looks like!

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A Hibiscus Love!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 17:47:00 +0000

There is this story of Hibiscus.

We have a cousin, Sijo, who is only a few years younger to me. She was part of our Childhood gang in Edamon. Now she is working in some hospital in Delhi I guess, and not in constant touch with us. But thinking of our childhood esplanades, this forgetfulness is not fully acceptable.

Now our story.

When she was about 4 years old, Vinod and I, used to keep Hibiscus flowers on her pillow every night after making sure that she was asleep. In the mornings, she used to get anxious about the same and we had an answer, some Gandharvans must have kept it for you.

She was kind of loving the never seen Gandharvan and Hibiscus flowers.

I'm going back!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 18:39:00 +0000

I want my childhood back!

I again want to walk through the Rubber trees and make cricket balls with 'ottukara!'

I again want to catch the smell of ‘chenathandan’ and get cautious.

I again want to stop at Kumar's house and pick him to play with us.

I agan want to ride my 'Captain' cycle my Achachan brought for me from Sengottai and I again want to take Vino and Prabha on it.

I again want to sleep with my grandparents, ha!!

I want to darken my mustache again!

I still want to run down the mountain as we come back from the church in Edamon!

I want to get beaten by my teachers once more!

I again want to wave my hands to the meter-gauge train that passes by my home, and collect as many garlands thrown by Ayyappans!

I again want to miss a homework and write an imposition!

I again want to get taught by Amma! My pavam amma!

I again want to hide under a ‘vazhayila’, escaping from the rain and slowly get wet completely!

I want to see our cow, Mini and her children for the last time!

I again want to tie an ‘Oonjal’!

I again want to climb trees!

I again want to pick coins from Achachan's drawer and deny it till he finds it out.

I again want Ammachi's ‘Moru curry’.

I again want to make cigarretes from ‘chakiri’ and smoke it with my brother.

I want to go back once more!

Please take me back! Once more please?

(Glossary for those who do not know Malayalam)
Ottukara - the dried up latex on the tap mark on a rubber tree. One can tie it to make real rubber balls.
Chenathandan- a common snake in Kerala, which has no poison./ Smell of Chenathandan - An unpleasant smell of a kind of wild flower.
Ayyappans- the pilgrims of Sabarimala, who used to throw garlands towards us, the group of Children..
Vazhayila- Plantain leaf. One can easily stand under it during rain, but if the winds come, you will be cheated!
Oonjal- A swing tied on a tree as part of Onam in Kerala.
Moru curry- A tasty curry from Kerala, which is made from curd. Our Grandmother used to make the tastiest Moru curry we ever had.
Chakiri- Coconut shell's grains. We two used to fill this into a paper roll and smoke them as cigarettes. One day we go caught, and the story needs another post here.

India 'Shy'ning!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 05:03:00 +0000

Sorry, I meant to say, India is Shining in the ever-glowing, never-dying lights of Bombs!

And the winner is.... Panikkathi!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 08:15:00 +0000

This is Panikkathi, one of the heroins in this LIFE. We have done something terribly wrong to her by not calling her for the two weddings in my family. Since my wedding as well as my brother's wedding had happened within the span of two weeks in last August, there was less time for our memory to throw light on this great companion of three generations in our family.

However, we have washed a part of this sin-stain by visiting her in Edamon and took her back to our current home, at Nediyara (Close to Anchal).

And in the lucky-draw conducted during the Onam celebration at home, it was she, who won the prize money (there was only one). After every one had gone, she asked me whether I purposely gave her the prize by writing her name on all the coupons. I was smiling, but denied it saying, 'she was indeed lucky'!

Jesus Saves

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 12:45:00 +0000

Highly Inflammable! That could best describe our Achachan. Anger comes to him naturally, but more often, unintentionally.

As mischievousness was the most salient quality we two, Vinod and I, had, we were like lighters in front of a petrol bomb. We were staying at a village called Kilivayal, close to the town Adoor, where Achachan worked.

We returned from school only to play Cricket with all the neighborhood boys. Our friends involved almost all boys around our house, and that friendship was beyond every casts and creeds. Siju, Boban, Alby, Shiju, Anish, Suresh, Satyan, Sujit, Bhanu, Kalesh, Libu, etc were the major members belonged to our team we called ‘Kilivayal 11'

Most of the time we played on ground of St. Cyril’s College (where our Achachan teaches, even today). As the professor's children, we had an easy access to the College premises and ground and this had also helped us in tapping much respect from our friends.

Other times, after the harvest season and monsoon, we could use Edathundil Appachan's rice field as the play-ground. All the boys preferred this as it was much broader and the land had by now grown fresh grass which was soft and satiny. On this field, we could act like Jhontys and Yuvrajs as fielders.

Wherever was the ground, and whatever was the match, we had a strict timeline from Achachan to return home by 6 every day. After his daily works and friend-meets, he would come back home and wait in the sit-out of our rented home, (which also belonged to Edathundil Appachan), reading a newspaper. Repeatedly, he would raise his head and see whether we were coming from play. As you would have expected by now, most of the days we played beyond gone beyond six and six thirties. But Achachan could not catch us every time, as we used to come by a back-side route and sneaked into home using the back door. Amma had been the only witness to our 'we-have-been-here-since-long' kind of strolling through the kitchen door and those almost-silent murmurs exchanged between us. She never used to reveal our 'crash-landing' though. But whenever we got caught by Achachan for being too late, either he would give us a deadly stare, which was severe than a stone pelt, or, though rarely, some minor 'caning treatments'

One day there was this cricket tournament we declared against Vayala, a village close by. The stake was nothing less but 5 rupees! :). The match was pretty cutthroat, and both the teams played hard to win the prize money. At the end, somehow it ended up in a verbal fight. And by the time we reached home, it was close to eight o clock. After having a bath at the well itself, we slid into the house through the kitchen door like usual, but directly landed up in front of Achachan who was sitting in the prayer room. He was really angry seeing us coming at such an odd time.

Breaths got stuck between the befuddling tension we were going through. Till now he had not opened his mouth at all but it was obvious that a lot of words have already piled up against us and plodding on his tongue, impatiently. Slowly he made us to see that he was intentionally looking at the cane that was kept near the window. We also gave it an unfriendly look and we got the clue (as expected). It was a new cane, freshly cut from the nearby communist pacha (Munnani, we call the plant).

As Prabha (our all-time negotiator to Achachan) had already started with the daily-evening prayers, he felt like postponing his decision on us till the prayer ends. It was more painful to wait for the punishment than to get it at the moment. We also took part in the prayer but passively. Our minds were full of the upcoming moments.

After the prayer songs, it was time to read from the Bible. At his turn, Achachan took the Bible, and started reading aloud. He looked like too much tensed about his boys' irresponsible attitude on life as he flipped the pages towards the New Testament. His first verse came like this; "pishachakunnu ningalude pithavu"! (John 8:44- You belong to your father, the devil). Alas! We raised our heads unbelievably. He had stopped reading there but was still looking into the Bible.

A second later, Achachan laughed aloud. In the next few moments what we witnessed was one of the greatest laughter rounds in our home. We could not believe he actually got to read it. Amma judged that he deserved it, as she never liked our 'angry Achachan'.

In the end, he forgot about the punishment and we hid the communist pacha in right time.

Jesus saves. Yes!