Omana chechi

Some smiles make indelible mark in our minds. There is a smile of its kind etched in my heart long time back. I got a glimpse of the same smile an year back on the occasion of a wedding in our family. The smile was always mixed with a little shyness. That was so pleasing. That was so relaxing. Events and individuals come and go. Some events are pleasant and some others, sad. Many people fade from our memory as time passes. They can be our close friends in the past or even our own relatives. As the life moves on, new men and women replaces the old ones. That can be called the dynamism of life. Whatever be the philosophy behind this, that is how it happens.
 

Omana chechi, the proud owner of this disarming smile was our neighbour. Not only our neighbour, but also was the eldest of the three daughters and a son our maternal uncle had. He was not exactly our uncle but our mother's. He was the only brother of our grandmother. He was the first one among the people who came to Visakhapatnam along with my father. He lived with his family on the southern side of our house. We called him ammavan, the Malayalam of maternal uncle. Narayanankutty, popularly known as Nanu is his son. All through the years upto I left for my studies in Kollam, we were very close friends. The simplest term to discribe him is, Nanu was our bosom friend.

Nanu was just an year younger to me. My elder brother is one year older to me and the youger sister two years younger. So, the school text books that were bought for the elder brother was handed down to me after he finished the year. The books still remained as if they were bought anew. I too kept them in reasonably good shape. As in a relay, the baton is handed over to Nanu and finally it reaches the youngest one. But, by the time, Nau finished his year, the books would have become a mutilated lot. So, most of the time, my sister had to be given new books 

Omana chechi was his eldest sister. After completing her SSLC, she went on to learn stitching clothes. As expected, she just completed 10th but not passed the exam. Most of our villagers, those days went upto 10th, only as a ritual. They were too afraid of the public exam to even give a try. Sadly, they meekly surrendered to the inevitable. Those who could manage to get through, opted learning type- writing and short hand writing. There were so many type writing institutes all across the country. Everyone was tuned to become servants! Omana chechi walked everyday to the nearby village, learnt stitching and started earning petty amounts. It was essential for a poor family to sustain. The only earning they had so far was the money ammavan was earning from Vizag. That was obviously not enough for a family of six to survive comfortably

Nanu had his lunch with us every day. Our grandma had very special love for ammavan's family. It was a kind of compassion towards a disadvantaged family that was happened to be her own brother's. Almost everyone from his family spent major part of his/her time with us. Omanachechi had reached the wedding age by that time. Our grandma was a worried lot then. Perhaps she was more worried about her marriage than her parents. It was our grandma who prompted Omanachechi to observe the " Thingalazhcha vratam" the penance young ladies take to please Lord Shiva on Mondays. The pleased Shiva in turn blesses them with a suitable man in their life. Grandma followed up with Omanachechi to observe the vratham every Monday.

On Monday morning Omanachechi took bath and went to our village's presiding deity, the Lord Shiva to pray to Him for a suitable husband at the earliest. She remained hungry for the day as a part of this ritual. But still, like any human being, our grandma too knew that, a husband will come only if enough money and gold were offered. Nothing else could substitute money, even the divinity that is attached to a wedding. Lord Shiva could certainly not influence anyone's mind when it comes to marriage bargains.

Read more about the vrat : Somvar vrat Monday-fasting

Marriage broker came and went. Interestingly, he came to our house with proposals. There, he showed the photograph of the prospective bride groom, narrated the "virtues" of the man as much exaggerated as he could. He also waxed eloquent about the boy's relatives who were in high positions. He never forgot to promise that the boy had enough property and a house of his own to live in. The impressed grandma served him with tea, snacks and meals with specially made dishes. I still remember how she used to sit nearby this man and encourage him to consume whatever he was offered. It was a passionate appeal to the tricky village marriage broker who was interested in nothing but money. We the children really felt angry with our grandma for the care she showed to a man who apparently looked a fraud, but the old lady was too naive to see through such dubious behaviours

The Olavaipe Mahadev temple in the heart of the village

At last, Omanachechi's man came. The broker did it. Though the credit went to the "Thingalazhcha vratham", it were the money and gold that did the trick. Somehow, her parents augmented that amount and sent her to a new home to open a new chapter in her life. The saga continues. She lives the same way she had been living. There was no much improvement in her living standard. Instead of stitching clothes, now she looks after cattle to earn an additional income to her family. Her parents died with nothing in their possession. They had to sell off a big part of the piece of land our grandma gifted them to live in, to meet their expenses in their last days. Some people are destained to live in perpetual misery. On the other side of the coin, some others live without knowing what deficiency means. The pleasing smile is still not lost in her face. It unveils once in a while, though laced with a tinge of sadness. Har Har Mahadev, how many more 'vrathams' should she observe before You wipe away her little discomforts in life?