Chapter 3

Absconding to Madras

1961 August 8 - an unforgettable day in my life. I had contemplated the idea of fleeing from the city of my birth without anybody's knowledge. Disgusted with the sufferings and pains of a bitter life, it was a flight to another city seeking liberation. I never thought of talking about it to anybody or giving any hint to anyone. If I had let it out, all the means of my escape would have been closed; my goal would not be achieved. My life would be in shackles and I would be oppressed once again. It was the picture of Prince Siddhartha leaving his palace inspired me then.

"Siddhartha looked up to heavens. The moon is in the zodiac of cancer. The stars are also in the same silverline. They command: "This is that night ..." Siddhartha slowly walked to the gate in that night as the palace was in deep sleep. He requested the night: " Oh Night! Be swayed into the closed eyes of them, be tightly pressed on their lips. Let not a single eye drop or a gentle murmur stop me ..." (Kizhakkinte velicham or The Light of the East).

Prince Siddhartha left his palace for solving the suffering of mankind. But the aim of the son of tea-shop owner Vamanan Nair was to find out solutions for his own sufferings.

While boarding the train to Madras, the sole hope for the boy who had failed in his school final exam was the address of his paternal aunt and his back-up was only a few coins. Some would torture the body to alleviate the mental agony. They won't feel pain even if their body is dissected with a blade. My condition was also the same. The disappointment and sorrow of a failed student was also there behind that aimless and meaningless fleeing. In spite of being very good in studies, I failed by one mark in English in the S.S.L.C. examination. For Velayudhan of those days this seemed too much to bear it. When all my friends passed the exam and I was unable to find any answer to light up my bleak future, deep despair had started suffocating me.

The problems of life and the ill-treatment of my father were great challenges that made it impossible to concentrate on my studies. What I retained of studies was what I could get from my teachers whom I heard in rapt attention in classes. But all my expectations were belied in the examination. Thus I lost courage to meet my classmates and teachers. There was nobody to pacify me or give me a soothing word to lift my confidence. When I felt that nobody needed Velayudhan, the decision was to sever my relationships with everything. That was the reason for my flight to Madras.

Velayudhan's mind was trapped like a helpless lamb caught in a thorny bush as the train sped past hillocks, barren lands, fertile fields, farms and deserted backwoods. He sat with a numb mind. The mind was virtually empty as the eyes ran past the sights on way.

When the train reached Madras all others took up their bags and rushed out. There was nobody to wait for me. I trode the platform leisurely.

I reached Mylapore as per my aunt's address with me. Things went really awry by the time I found the house with great difficulty. My aunt had left the place. What do I do next? I did not have plans to go back. I had no money to stay back. I wandered in the city aimlessly like a kite fluttering in the sky. Nobody cared for this sinking boat trying to beat the waves.

Damsels of my age in their traditional costumes and attire passed by me. They were going to sell flowers in the market. There were small boys selling cheap toys like balloons, plastic dolls and whistles and toddlers begging on the streets. All were human beings in different costumes trying to eke out a living on the crowded streets of Madras. Which role will suit me? I have to select one at any cost. I stood on the side of the road thinking of selecting a suitable role for me. I can't remember how long I stood there.

My mind went back to the teashop at Kawadiar when my stomach started rumbling with hunger. Unfamiliar hungry folks would come and sit on the bench there. Soon my father would take the steaming water from the vessel kept on the red-hot oven. He would mix it with milk and tea dust and the frothing hot tea would be in front of them. They had only to point at the eatables like pan cake, tomato cake or banana fry kept in the mealshelf. Without a word father would take it in a plate and keep it before them. He had never stopped the people who would go out without making the payments or ever tried to extract money from the debtors. So many of them had never come back; he had never gone in search of them. In spite of the hard work of my father, our family remained in utter poverty. The people who had cheated him never had a thought for us. Whatever bitter experiences father had, he still would serve tea and eatables to such people. In spite of his great loss in business he never thought of any other means of livelihood.

The son of such a father was standing perplexed in distant Madras city unable to find a way to appease his hunger. I looked at the nearby teashop, slowly walked to it and sat on a bench. I was there for quite a long time, but no tea came to me or did anyone care for me. I was about to cry. That day, for the first time, I could recognise the magnanimity of my father. But I did not know why all those tortures were inflicted on us. I could not bear those beatings and torments any more. With an empty stomach I came out and stood on the road for long.

I could understand the meaning of the old saying "God is there everywhere and in everything" at that moment there. God appeared before me in the garb of a businessman.

"Who are you waiting for?" The question in Malayalam made me feel that I was a drowning man clutching at a straw. I looked at the stranger in utter helplessness. It seems he had read everything from my starving eyes.

read everything from my starving eyes. "Come with me to my house. You can stay there." I accompanied the Keralite from Manacaud to his house. His name was Srinivasan. His wife was Rachel; it was obvious that they had an inter-religious marriage. There, for the first time I realised that love doesn't have caste or creed. I gulped down the food they served me with great affection. I also realised there that nothing is greater than food placed in front of a hungry man.

"What made you come here like this?" uncle Srinivasan gently asked. I told him everything. He looked at me sympathetically after listening to me attentively. Then he said: "You should write to your father today itself. Ask him to come here and take you. Until then you can stay here as one of our children."

The very next day he brought an inland letter and persuaded me to write the letter. My family might have been greatly relieved when they got my letter. Uncle Srinivasan used to go to Thiruvananthapuram frequently. In his next trip he went home and brought all my books. In my free time with him, I started learning from the books.

I stayed there till the S.S.L.C. (school final) examination of March 1962.

I still remember what my younger brother Sivan told me on my return home. "After you left, our father was venting up his anger on me. I had to take also the share of torture meant for you."

My younger brothers and sisters worked very hard to help our father. Often they too had their share of torment."

`Uncle Srinivasan was in the handicrafts business. He used to collect beautiful carvings in wood and ivory from Thiruvanthapuram and sell them in Madras. I was with them as one of their children. I helped them in their business during the day and found time to study in the night. Thus I was there for about one and a half years as an uninvited guest.

If uncle Srinivasan had not seen me, my fate would have been entirely different. It would have been decided on the streets on the first night itself. Perhaps, I would have been dragged into the underworld or have had a life robbed of everything. Or else, I would have ended up a beggar or a thief. I still do not know why God spared me from such a misfortune and handed me over to that businessman.

handed me over to that businessman. I returned to Thiruvanthapuram from Madras in 1962. My aim was to write the S.S.L.C. examination once again.