The Capri-beat

The sun’s setting behind the roof of a north Malabar home..were it not for a zigzagging clutch of similar palatial homes in the vicinity, you’d have been afforded a panoramic view of the coastline a stone’s throw away n the glowing orange take a parting dip in a sea of molten metal..the Arabian Sea by twilight. A modern construction, the bungalow in itself is quite well-built, evidence of dedicated thought having gone into making the spacious house highly aesthetically pleasing.

The inmates - He a highly successful ex-banker, she a very pleasant lady, the details of their providential meeting would make for quite a story by itself, she fondly remembers n thinks of bygone times often, which is what’s still got that smile plastered to her pretty face..reaching all the way up to add the twinkle in her eyes. Can it be true..or has the world made one cynical enough to question everything putting a stop to learning, I wonder. If the scientific spirit includes observation, questioning, experimentation, verification, had we conveniently lost the 1^st, 3^rd & 4^th somewhere along the way? The gentleman looks the respectfully quiet sorts, speaking only to intelligently contribute to a discussion, the lady generously fills in the pauses, never for a moment allowing silence to reign..which is what she’s been doing for quite a while now ever since the medics diagnosed her husband with having entered an advanced stage of cancer creeping to claim a greater portion of him every passing second. The countless chemotherapy sessions he underwent at a specialist hospital has not even yielded temporary respite making the journey back home more painful than they’d expected, with the promise of yet another session turning into nothing more than a shadow on hope.

But that’s the only way out for these nice folks as of now, surprisingly, since the condition’s been around for as long as most other ailments. Last year, I had the privilege of speaking to a scientist in the US researching cancer cells, aiming at finding out what kills them more effectively n checks their migrating tendencies. What I learned was nothing new...the endless process of checking what the mutated cell adversely reacts to..enabling it to be specifically targeted. Thanks to the ‘big bucks’ funding from the US Dept Of Defence, there’s adequate incentive for researchers stuck in an otherwise demoralising rigmarole of finding a practical solution for an ‘out of control’ condition. In most cases, their efforts are rendered useless by the migration of these cancerous cells, thereby introducing the risk of healthy cells succumbing to the preventive therapy..N everyone knows there’s no solution in sight unless medical science figures out how to effectively stem the migration. It’s a game of numbers as of now.

One day someone very dear to me and dear to everyone for her forever helpful, friendly and motherly nature, there are several fellow students who’ll affectionately remember her as Paari...an ordinary English teacher…an extraordinary human being, while discussing topics for a forthcoming debate, told me that Maya was succumbing to cancer. Maya, my library teacher..who closed her eyes to the rule of x number of books per student per month..and loaned us as many as we could carry in our hands on every visit every other day. After a point, books had become second priority and the library visits more frequent. She would just brighten up on seeing students and no..she was no boring library in-charge. She always had lots of stories to share and we always felt more like grand children than students when she was around. Sometime that year, I was moving to high school and had to move on to another one. One day after lab work where I usually get into trouble with the lab incharge mixing unknown salts that explode in the marble sink..and make other struggling students re-contemplate pausing with their unmixed mixtures staring helplessly at the smoke in my corner..I quietly slipped out to breathe some fresh air..when I ran into Paari..Hey, I’m your Vice Princi now..she beamed as we embraced in sudden joy! Oh..Maya ma’m’s no more..by the way, she confided slowly. We just stood in silence for some time..even though you expect stuff like this, it always comes like a shock..wonder why.

A year from then, I was just wondering at life while returning from the home of everybody’s favourite. Just a month from the time when my biology teacher had found me after class one day, called me away and slowly taking my hand had said..Paari ma’m is succumbing to cancer…

“Maya your food’s turning cold now…where are you?”

“Coming mom..”

“You’ve been saying that for more than an hour..what’s keeping you…need help with anything?”

“No.. I’m done. Here I am” she glided into the dining room.

Her mom forgot her complaints and began serving lunch…one look at the plate and the colours and textures burst out at Maya…yellow, green, white..food was so beautiful! How much trouble her mother must have taken to prepare such food..she wondered. Gulping it down without a care would be such injustice to such beautiful food..

Lost in thought she pulled a chair and slipped in, drawing closer to the table …she had not seen her mother bustling back into the kitchen and then toward the living room to check the papers.

Maya didn’t even realise she was staring at her untouched plate..and the food had transported her to a different land…she could see rocks and sand, creepers flowing downward from the branches of lush green trees..swaying in a gentle breeze..she could see a gurgling stream flowing and smooth gray rocks gleaming below…

Then she turned to see..a human figure walking toward her…tall like fathers are…but dressed in a different manner…may be this is how they dress themselves here she guessed as she looked at him approaching with a gentle smile on a face that was far from scary..it was fascinating and beautiful.

As she saw the figure reach closer, he bent and gathered a handful of smooth pebbles from the ground, and shaking the pebbles between both palms said to her, “Look what I made for you…!!” And next she saw him deposit something gleaming white in her plate with a swish of his arm…it was beautiful rice!!

Next he swooped toward the stream, gathering some water in his palm, swinging the arm with a gentle smile he again said, “Look what I made for you!” He poured something in her plate…it had become lovely yellow gravy.

He smiled at her dismay…reaching for the creepers…he held out his palm and there were leaves in his hand…with a swishing action in the air, he added something more to her plate…she stared and stared with childish glee at the salad glowing green.

“Now..have…” she heard the gentle entreaty. Maya couldn’t tear her eyes away from the miracle in her plate…and she reached out toward the food…slowly as if it was the most delicate stuff in the world. Scooping a morsel, she slowly took it towards her lips. She placed the mixture in her mouth and was still in bewilderment..the taste was unlike anything she had ever tasted…from the food the taste reached out, began to spread out like nothing else existed except it…Later, she used to think back to the times when the stranger would feed her thus. She could never recollect much about her immediate surroundings those times…except restrained wonder of her mother who would have read the papers and magazines to her heart’s content and returned to fetch some water to find her daughter perched before her half-empty plate, eating as though that were the sole purpose of her life and had to do it perfectly without a single mistake.

“What’s the matter…?” she would ask, as a rule she never liked to bother anyone who was in the process of eating “so many hours to just finish your lunch?” she would murmur gently.

Looking back, Maya couldn’t even remember her mother’s look or reaction…may be she was indeed lost.