Novel

THE GREEN HOUSE AND THE BLUE MOUNTAIN

Chapter-2

Lessons

My early years were surrounded in the home. I played with fire, earth and water. Still water is a problematic element for me. Once it tried to wash out me from life. But I can’t resist the joys of water. I danced in the pouring rain. I went to fishing in the small ponds. Still, an overwhelming well is a wonderful treat to my eyes. After that swallowing episode Father, put a strong coconut wood across the well. In rainy seasons I went to this well and measure the water level with my eyes. Mother takes me to bath in the well side under a group of banana trees. Those mornings sun was pierced through the green banana leaves. I clap my hands and laughed with the colors.

Earth also gave pain to me. Once I was playing with sand and stones, one tiny stone went to my nostril. My cousin Biji took me to the primary health center, 5 km way from our home in his bicycle. I sit in the cross bar and mother take the back seat carrier. Dr.Tharakan took the tiny stone and he patted my cheeks. After that episode I was shunned to touch the stones. Animals were my playmates at that time. Black dog was my sole companion. We sit together and wait for Father at evening. He roared to the cocks who had tried to enter the home. I wept when he died after consuming an ill meat.
I cried three days. We buried him under a rubber tree. I put large stones to remember his tomb. Later years I read, Budha confronted death in the similar way.

These days my name falls like tag into my soul and body. Everybody yelled ‘James do that and don’t do that.’ When I try to climb a tree or try to throw a stone or try to tear a book this yelling irritated me. Once I hit our small lamb with a stick Mother had seen my act and hit me by the same stick. My pleasure turns to be a sudden pain. But I wondered when a visitor came to our home Mother sadistically kill a cock .Its drooling blood dipped through the way and it eyes jutting out from the socks.

At the age of 3 I went to the house of the traveling master. Master lives in the mountain.
One day Mother took me to the mountain road and after a long walk we entered a small thatched home. I remember 4 or 5 pupils sit in the verandah and write something on a dried coconut leaf and they yelled Aa…Aaaa..Ee…Eeee…. Mother enrolled me to the class. Master smiled to me. Mother told me that this master traveled to the rich houses in the village and teaches letters to the students. We are poor so we have to come to this hut regularly. Master put some rice to the mat and I sit in his lap, both of our fingers sketch in the rice…Harisree Ganapathaye Nama.

(Will Continue…)