It’s been an eventful day, tree trunks had broken left right center with the weight of snow, we had to cut and bundle the whole thing. There is another snow storm coming on Tuesday the 20th of March 2018. Poor trees are all being teased by the snow and the sun. But this is ultimate, Nature at its best.
My Valiappachen (Amma’s father) was Post Master at Kollam, in late 1950’s; where he lived with his family; he had 8 children, 4 girls and 4 boys. Amma’s oldest sister was already married and the remaining 7 children lived with my grandfather along with my Appa.
I dwell on the spirit and strength of character of all my elders, Amma’s aunts, uncles, and cousins as it was truly one world, one family and I have seen all of them, who were alive. I lived with my grandparents from the time I was born for the first few years.
I started walking and talking when they were around, every single day in the evening when Valiappachen tallied the stamp and inland daily collection, I was there, counting paisa and stacking the coins in stack of tens, until that time he was transferred to Pathanamthitta Post Office. He gave me my first lessons in accounting.
Post Office is one shop worldwide, where no one gives extra change and everyone gets their change back, cards, inlands, covers, money orders, telegrams, parcels: costs are accurately perfect (kirukrithyam). Every single penny (naya paisa) had to tally. He kept ledgers with lines and they were so big, bound with leather and calico binding cloth, I could curl and sleep on them as a baby.
Appachen had this big fat orange pen with black wide rings, on the cap and the body, it was as fat as his thumb, and there was a golden ring in between two black rings on the cap. The nib was flat and tapered to look like a pin head, with the writing side a little flat. The clip was golden with a bigger pin head at the end and this would sit on his shirt pocket like a statement of his wisdom. To touch this pen you need to be born twice.
The nib had holes on either side for the ink to flow seamlessly. The feed and the engineering of this pen were always intriguing and fascinating for me. The precision with which these were created hundreds of years ago for calligraphy. The font size was definitely more than 40 and flat. This is again inspiration from nature from the beaks of water bound birds and certain mammals I have come across later in my life.
His eye glasses were a trade mark; nothing could match the power and authority of those thick framed black glasses with quite thick lens. By the time he retired the lens was as thick as the soda bottle which was common in our days, and in his 80’s, if I am not mistaken his cheeks also looked like the soda bottle with the marble in the neck. Wonder how I would look…
He dressed immaculately wearing starched clothes which were a treat to watch, he had the habit of carrying a handkerchief and he pulled that from the back of his collar like ithikkarapakky, in case he had to wipe the sweat on his polished forehead, which was seldom, once that was taken out it never went back to the collar. This was a stain protection for the collar of white shirts. Especially when he went to church for the Sunday mass, Oh! My God, what peace and power even in his small frame.
So much more, I feel so blessed and so protected….
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