A life so near and dear...

A morning like any other was in the process of creation. As the majestic sun arose from his peaceful slumber and began his ascent to the mount of the heavens, his scinitillating rays bathed and slowly lit up a quaint little Kerala countryside. The darkness beat a silent retreat and the scenery enlivened, doth in the green glory of the paddy fields bordered by the bluish tinged mountains. Ten years into Indian independence, a nation slowly settled into the mundane existence of a new born republic, yet untouched by the sagas of political bickering and complications of multi party democracy. For India and the world at large, this was any other day. But, then that would have been a careless generalization.

A desperate voice dented the calm quiet of the morning. 'Leave me, just leave me, you rogue!." A small five year old boy was struggling against the firm hands of the adult who held him. His tiny feet attempted to find a wedge on the ground to give him some sort of leverage in this struggle of unequals. The adult gave a sigh of frustration. He slowly adjusted his broad rimmed spectacles that had wiggled themselves loosely on his nose. His receding hairline, stern look and the wooden cane at his side gave away his profession. He was the Head Teacher at the Keezhara primary school. And today as part of his professional responsibilities he was dragging an unrelenting five year old to the portals of education.

'Please dont hurt my son, Masterji.' The sobbing mother just behind the master couldnt control her angst at seeing her eldest progeny in pain. The master appeared not to hear her appeals. He was fully aware that his actions were central to secure this youngster's future. In a village where reaching class Xth was considered a lofty academic achievement, he had no reason to doubt the nobility of his mission.

The introvert kid on whom the world of education was thrust upon on that fateful day, soon found himself in an amazing world. He embraced this world of knowledge with both hands. His hunger saw him gorging down whole textbooks within a day and soon he had run out of libraries in his locality. And when he passed out of class Xth as the first student in his village to obtain a first class, none were surprised. Probably, the Masterji allowed a smile to spread upon his strict demeanour as he reminisced that morning he dragged him to class.

His father wanted him to be a peon in a government service. But, the boy was adamant. He pushed himself into the world of electronics and thus, began a story of his success against difficult odds. And when he finally bid good bye to this existence at the age of 53, after a brave fight against cancer, none could say that he had not lived a wonderful and fair life.

The world might not know this gentleman. They might not even call him a hero; yes, maybe the few that knew him. But, for me he was everything. My greatest idol. He was my father.

will continue....