An Onam Gift

Come September, Malayalees the world over celebrate Onam. I do not want to tire the reader with what he/she already knows. The spending spree, the discount fervour, new clothes, new consumer goods, holidays, get-togethers with family and friends, excursions – you know all that. Of course, one of the best parts is gifting your loved ones with new clothes – saris, shirts, pocketmoney for children which they spend on sweets or toys – it is fun, isn't it?

It has been quite a long time since I took part in the festivities of Onam. Something had died inside me long ago. There was a time when I used to roam the streets of Trivandrum which would be all aglow with illumination and cultural shows and beautiful women parading and us boys ogling at them to our hearts' content. But now, the festival spirit isn’t just there. Maybe it is that I am getting older; or that now I prefer solitude and quiet – perhaps a close friend or two – nothing more than that.

This year too, like I have done several years after my marriage, I went with my family to Eranakulam ( Kochi) where most of Parvati's relatives stay. Hers is a large clan; they all gather, chat up, drink, laugh, shout, rib each other, recount old family jokes – even after 19 years, I feel somewhat left out. I sat with them for a while and then slinked away upstairs to read a novel.

Parvati had left a few days earlier; K & I joined her on the 1^st September; Onam eve is as important as the day of Onam, on the 2^nd. 3^rd being a working day, I returned home to my dogs by 2^nd night. K came back today, the 3^rd. P would be back only by 7^th or so.

I have been/ am going through a rough patch. An unexpected huge (for me) financial commitment for forced buying of a piece of land, which put a terrible constraint on my modest resources, has shaken me out of my laidback, placid ways. The purchase is going to set me back lakhs of rupees. I am constantly reminded of it; my BP which used to be normal has shot up in the last couple of months.

Today evening 1730 hrs. Rap music blasts from K's room. He is with a couple of friends. K (his real name is Nachiketh – pet name, Kuttappu) is all of 17 years. Medium height, broad built (he pumps irons) fair and quite handsome with his charming smile, K is all of 17 years. Oh glory!

K barges into my room, splashes my religiously saved Adidas Eau de Toilette all over him and comes over to me and peers into the laptop. He says - “Acha, Cheriyamma gave me 1000 bucks”. Cheriyamma is Parvati's younger sister, Devi. I tell him- “Great, but don't splurge on all of it”, though he has every right to. He would gorge on Chicken Biriyani or Sheverma or Coke – but like parents the world over, I guess, I just lightly caution him. He says- “No, I won't”. My son gives me that shy grin and holds out a 500 rupee note- “This is for you, Acha, for buying the land”. I get up from my chair and hug him, kiss him on his bruiser cheeks. Tears gush out and I am at a loss for words. K is embarrassed, as any 17 year- old would be, at his emotional, weak, father. I straighten up and say - “Thank you, Appu”.

To a father who hasn't given him an Onam gift, K gave all he had – love. I don't think, at this moment, there is a happier father than me anywhere in the world.

************* Balachandran, Trivandrum, 03.09.2009