The First Photograph


Recollecting my past not as a photographer was full of funny memories.Looking back at those days is like travelling in the mist, that is we can’t remember all the photos that we had captured those days but we do recollect some of them because in those days it was your best.

Hmm yes my best picture was an ant carrying a feather .Even today I can feel the happiness I had felt once when I captured it.As you grow even more professional you still remember it as your first success .It is that if you are a new person into the world of photography you should strive to find the one the picture that will be the one that will hold you up among the others




It has been a while since we last saw the mastery of Muthuvel Karunanidhi in active politics which always out shined his contemporaries of Tamil Nadu politics. The kind of politics that had taken its own shape during his tenure can be read alone with the likes of Annadurai, MGR and Jayalalitha. Even though he flight toe to toe, teeth to teeth with Jayalalitha till the end there was nobody else apart from her that threatened him in politics.  Today when he finally bid farewell to an illustrious political career, he left behind a vacuum of uncertainty over Tamil Nadu politics which seems to look vague and unclear. Stalin who could be the next possible successor in line seems to be a shadow of his father and Kanimozhi seems not to hold the charm her father held. The Kalaignar’s root runs further deeper into life of Dravidian politics for decades which he successfully defended even when MGR and Jayalalitha stole majority of the heart of an average ‘Tamizhmakkal’ through their own version. This particular identity Kalaignar established in the hearts of people as a writer and a excellent orator is undeniable.  When Jayalalitha finally bid farewell in 2016 Kalaignar was left alone as the sole survivor for an era of Dravidian politics of Tamil Nadu which saw rise and fall of many. The 5 times chief minister of Tamil Nadu, 10 times as DMK supremo spanning 50 years, Kalaignar had embodied a charismatic image of a special leader. His political career was often accompanied with likes of being a script writer, novelist, lyricist and so on which could be read alongside his deep roots in Dravidian ideology. One of his major achievement was able to implement English and Tamil as major mode of communication in state while keeping distance from Hindi which many disliked from the start. What makes Karunanidhi special among his compatriots were his overall ambition for his fellow Tamizhans and his contributions to the state during his tenure at office and at opposition. Even when he shifted away from truth and fall prey to corruption and various other misconducts he continued to hold onto his faith and single handily drive the party forward.  One can’t forget those political moves like the one which welcomed both Indira and later her daughter Sonia into politics in two different decades and any political moves to stop AIDMK coming into power. Even during long 10 years, sitting in opposition against MGR’s AIDMK and later under Jayalalitha the patience Kalaingnar showed was something unique which we couldn’t see anymore in the contemporary politics. Even though in-spite of the hardships, his deep rooted Dravidian philosophy had already stolen heart of many people in time as he was their only immortal Kalaignar. Inspired by Periyar and later when he came to Madras to join E.V Ramaswamy’s Justice Party nothing was quite sure until his caliber as a talented script writer proved vital source of the Dravidian movement. It was through the movie Parasakti, starring Sivaji Ganeshan wherein dialogues that was against anti- Brahmanism came to limelight which quickly caught attention of people. Kalaignar, was first noticed in the eyes of people was during his protest against changing the name of a railway station Kallukady to Dalmiapuram in Tamil Nadu. Four years later he was elected to state assembly from Kulithalai constituency. It was the beginning  of the era of Muthuvel Karunanadhi as well as a new politics. During the same time a  friendship was born with  Marudhur Gopalan Ramachandra(MGR) following the huge success of his 1950 movie ‘Manthri Kumaran’ for which Karunanidhi wrote the script and MGR did the lead role. The friendship shifted into a rivalry following a split later with MGR starting his own party AIDMK.

Now as the tale of Karunanidhi ends in Tamil Nadu politics what lies ahead is the uncertainty over the future of the state’s political spectrum. Just like Palani Swami’s AIDMK which struggled to create a new image after the demise of Jayalalitha, DMK would also have to go through the same phase in order to gain people’s faith once again. Unlike 60’s the cause today is different, society has changed considerably and the need to represent Dravidian ideology is less significant compared to likes of communal cards played by BJP and Congress who is fast tracking ways to finally enter the politics of the state. Now as 2019 Lok Sabha election is close by Stalin is leftover with a decision to make which seems to affect the internal politics of both state as well the party. Also considering the odds surrounding the possible entry of Rajinikanth and Kamalahassan into politics will also play a key part in deciding  the future of Tamil Nadu. The recent turmoil in politics can further churn a possible heir to to the changing mindset of people after demise of Jayalalaitha. Not only did people started to think out of box, unlike their predecessors their demand for better governance and stability increased drastically. Therefore it seems to be a real test for DMK in absence of Kalaignar to entrust Stalin with all responsibilities and aspirations. The real question that prevails is whether Stalin could follow the steps and create a colossus figure his father Karunanithi had carved out for him in Tamizhakam.

A bird that fly over the nest

Orginally the name may sound familiar as it holds serious resemblance to 1975 movie of the same name. But it was not what I am actually going to rumble around in this post. So don’t worry about fact on that wheather I may go faking insanity just like Jack Nicholson did in the movie.

Now what made the decision for me to adapt the title for this post is because of a striking resemblance between a bird and a middle class family. The bird metaphorically holds similarity with the Nicholson’s character in the movie but moreover it resembles a middle class struggles of life.A middle class unable to reach out to the likes of upper class also struggles to keep themselves without falling down to lower class. The fight goes on in a lifespan as bird often need to fight off other birds as well. To the bird the cage symbolises home or safety just like humans who seeks shelter in the most promising places in midst of power and wealth. But now as i was speaking about the bird, the bird was unwillingly to go to cage and rather choose to fly around it desperately. Something was haunting the bird. The humans similarly in certain situations seek to get worried about their life and try seeking some help or else when they are cautious about themself or family they takes precautionary measures. I think the bird do was expecting an enemy or an attack. As the day moved upon I still saw bird flying around. Next day when I woke up and stroll down through the garden I didn’t see the bird flying around anymore but rather in pain found out the dead bird lying on the bushes. Never do I nor do anybody could answer the mystery surrounding death of bird. Just like the way Jack Nicolson’s character is mercy killed by his Indian compariot which is never justified with any narration or dialogue.

Pappu and His Cupboard : Short Story

Everybody says the old monk is crazy and always talks about the same tale over and over again. But once I heard the tale from him I was able to know who he really was.

Pappu had never been to school as you all may have been thinking whether he was from poor family or having a disease let me tell you he was all normal just like you are. He was only a year short of going to school and was excited but as always he kept his feelings to himself. Pappu was scared of too much of noises as firecrackers always left him in a disturbed state as of a nightmare. Whenever he feels agitated with his annoying people he finds comfort in his cupboard. The silence it provided comfort him always. When his drunkard father beats his mother he shut himself in his cupboard away from his father’s actions and never leaves the place until his mother come to fetch him.

Pappu never talks too much nor he uttered any stories but his drawing book were always ready to tell the tales. Nobody ever knew about his world nor anybody was were welcomed. In Pappu’s world fairies were all calm and never talked, giants were friendly, butterflies lives so long that you can have them as pets, no spiders, no cockroaches nor firecrackers. Pappu’s world was filled with buried treasured that each day pappu goes for a quest across the mighty oceans, sky topped mountains and thick wild jungle to look for it. All his quest starts from his cupboard which was pappu’s time capsule that take him to his world.

The last time pappu draw his quest on his book he never knew he was supposed to save his beloved mother from the villianous father whom he may have pardoned in the end. It was his final quest. He do have freed his mother eventually but with the cost of his life. It happened on a turbulent night when pappu was in his cupboard and his drunkard doozy father was beating his mother downstairs more brutally than ever. Unable to bear the pain she ran away leaving her crazy husband with a scared and helpless child who was hiding his cupboard upstairs. In his drunkard state and anger he lit the house on fire without the knowledge that Pappu was hiding in his cupboard. The house went down in flames as old monk uttered the words his lips quivered and he went silent. The tale doesn’t end there as of Pappu who disappeared with his time capsule forever is still safely hidding himself in his cupboard waiting for his mother to return, to fetch him and take him to bed so he could draw his next quest.

Boundaries Of Life : A Philosophical Barrier?

Once in a while we had to welcome some unknown guests from our past who may be a distant cousin or a long lost friend. Such meetings  generally end up as an unscripted drama wherein you tumble over the words as in most cases eventuality turned out be melodramatic in nature. You may be placed in an awkward situation that actually juxtaposes your likes and interests and often compels one to have disheartened chitchats. In such cases you may often started thinking about your lack of ability to deal with people. But it is not so.

Human beings are thus bound to cross boundaries in certain uncanny occasion that brings us into the boundaries of our life. Here the boundaries are not of the physical nature but are of the ones that are being nurtured out of education, society, social situations, interests, profession and so on. For example if you are a hardcore fan of football and in an instance when you are placed opposite to somebody who generally dislikes such sports it is quite common for you to not accept the actualities he/she lays in front of you and often silence prevails such talks. Here your beliefs are questioned which  is the most basic aspect of human consciousness and any form of contradictory beliefs always creates strife’s whatsoever.

It is actually quite confusing and questionable in a way on how we drew boundaries in our life. It is not something that personally we writes,dictates and recites. When you consider oneself then your opinions and beliefs are shaped out of your interactions with the society you am dealing with. It will be different to somebody else and thereby the off springs of these actualities can be denoted as the basic identity that defines our life. For example if you are born post second world war then you may have a different opinion about the war. But to the ones who had experienced the brutalities and bloodshed war offers the opinions would be different. Thus you create a world consciously in and around you thereby filtering all those ideas, ideals,thoughts, people and so on. In such a case you have a predetermined stand on most of the issues and thereupon you just hate all ideas that alter those beliefs. This is where the difficulty to adapt to a new system arises.

A system is a mixture of multiple realities that coincide at certain situations like one of the basic human emotions, fear. The fear that emanate from various occurrences in life happen to create similarities among us.People with fear of heights, fear of insects ,fear of darkness are bound to hold these similarities. So sometimes boundaries do coincide in certain aspects of life in everybody’s life. So don’t worry about the next time that you may feel you are out of the bounds.

Who Kills Who : Tale Of Indian News Stories

I write this post in the context of an event that happened less than 72 hours ago. A 23 year old man was murdered by group of criminals which include the brother of the victim’s wife. The reason was his sister went onto defy her family and married the victim who was unfortunately a lower caste man. The victim was found lying dead in a canal miles away from his home after being abducted from his home a day before by the gang says his father, who the very day lodged a complaint at police station. The police on the hand failed to take an decisive action on time stating silly reason as chief minister was visiting the district.

Now as the media converge over the story it is sure that people will soon reach out for more similar incidents and politicians will pay a visit to the victim’s house. While on the public front the online mourners will foul cry over the incidents, investigation and hastag their posts as likes, comments as shares pour in. There will also be people out there who may or may not have any idea about the incident but will try to politicalise the situation. This is not any form of my personal agenda to insult anyone but because of reason that of being a citizen I am also sick and tired of these dramas. The drama as I have mentioned occurs round the clock as something news worthy take place and gets enough interest. Now it is bound to occupy the front page of newspaper or through a break-in in a news channel. The following days will eventually be filled with follow up stories and sub stories. Eventually one day it will all disappear all of a sudden when the story loses its signifanace and may luckily for the sake occupies a corner in the local newspapers and channels. I can’t call it an intentional act or personal decision but more of a act of how system runs these days.

In a decade of page 3 syndrome and tablodisation it is quite common for someone to be famous for couple of minutes but it is also a truth that often for such silly stories some valuable stories are destined to be sacrificed. When TRP rating says more masala more time for entertainment and gossips is given the priority.

The priority here is born out of a system that demands sensationalized news for a large target audience who occups a converged media platform with a demand for more and more. When you ask for more and others starts to feed on your demands it is hard to turn your face against it.

Writing Off The Grid : Changing Scenario

It is substantially enough for a writer to sustain his livelihood in India, home to more than 130 crore people thereby allowing a writer enough target audience. But due to the unique demography of linguistic and cultural diversity the readership differ considerably in proportion with offline and online audiences. While even in today’s context where people are addicted to social media culture a large proportion of readership still have the urge for printed materials like newspapers to get hold of news. Today it is more of a daily routine as teens are compelled to read newspaper daily as it is as important as breakfast.

The newspaper is more than a century old in its performance but is comparatively way better than that of its successor television which is finding it hard to attract the attention of its viewers who had lost themselves in social media. While it looks a lot complicated for a writer especially for a newbie to find a platform to start it is even hard for a established writer to sustain in his/her role due to changes in the system. Back in the day when blogging went crazy worldwide it was considered the best platform for people who love to share ideas,articles,stories,poetry and so on and was the best possible job one could do sitting back home. Even my old lady back home used to check for cooking remedies all over the internet as it was less complicated to handle. But after a decade we all saw the boom in the culture which lead to what that is called information overload as you get too much of information in social media that you ain’t bother about scavenging books to do your assignments. But at this point it all look pretty much of a good news for a freelance writer in India as more people fled more viewers and more traffic. But what happened in this evolution was that in next couple of years audience with the public forums in hands were given golden opportunity which allowed them to write and publish whatever they want. This lead to rise in false information’s without any sensible background. This lead to the losing of credibility of many established writers. The widespread plagiarism all over internet created a large vacuum of pure lies and truths . This lead to significant lose in traffics and thereby income for many bloggers and freelancers. Today it is thereby hard to distinguish between what is a true and what is false.


ആകാശത്താകെ നീലനിറമാണ്.. സ്‌കൂളിൽ പഠിക്കുമ്പോൾ നാം വരക്കുന്ന നീലിമയാർന്ന ആകാശം പോലെ അവ ഇപ്പൊ കാണപെടുന്നതെങ്കിലും കനത്ത ചൂടിൽ അവ സുന്ദരമായി തോന്നുകയേ ഇല്ലായിരുന്നു. കവലയിൽ തിരക്കൊഴിഞ്ഞ നേരമാണ്.

ഞാൻ  മറ്റു സുഹൃത്തുക്കളുടെ കൂടെ പട്ടണത്തിൽ സമരത്തിൽ പങ്കെടുത്തിട്ടു വന്നിരിക്കുകയിരുന്നു. അതിന്റെ ക്ഷീണത്തിൽ ചായകുടിക്കാനായി കടയിൽ കയറിയത്. നേതാവിന്റെ കാറിനു കല്ലെറിഞ്ഞ ഭരണപക്ഷത്തെ ശിങ്കടികൾക്കെതിരായാണ് ഞങ്ങൾ കോളേജും കട്ട് ചെയ്തു സമരത്തിന് ഇറങ്ങിയത്.വരാനിരിക്കുന്ന കോളേജ് ഇലക്ഷനും സമരത്തിന്റെയും കാര്യങ്ങൾ സംസാരിച്ചിരിക്കുമ്പോൾ  ആണ്   എല്ലാവരിലും കൗതുകം ജനിപ്പിക്കുന്ന ഒരാൾ കടയിലേക്ക് ഇതിനിടയിൽ കടന്നു വന്നത്. മുഷിഞ്ഞു തുടങ്ങിയ മുണ്ട് മടക്കിയുടുത്ത അയാൾ തന്റെ സഞ്ചിയിൽ നിന്നും ഒരു  പൊതിയെടുത്തു. പൊതിതുറന്നു അതിൽ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്ന പല കൂട്ടം പലഹാരങ്ങൾ എടുത്തു പുറത്തു വെച്ചു. തീർത്തും ഭ്രാന്താണെന്ന് തോന്നിക്കും വിധമായിരുന്നു അയാളുടെ പ്രവർത്തികൾ. ഇതിനിടയിൽ അയാൾ കടയിൽ കയറി ഒരു കെട്ട് ബീഡിയും വാങ്ങിയിരുന്നു. ആ കെട്ട് ബീഡിയും ഒരു പൊതി നിറയെ പലഹാരവുമായി അയാൾ പൊള്ളുന്ന വെയിലിൽ പുറത്തിറങ്ങി റോഡ് മുറിച്ചു കടന്നു. കൗതുകം എന്നെ കീഴടക്കിയിരുന്നു. ഞാൻ എഴുന്നേറ്റ് കാശ് കൊടുത്തു സുഹൃത്തുക്കളെ അവിടെ ഇരുത്തി പുറത്തേക്കു ഇറങ്ങി അയാളെ പിൻതുടർന്നു. അയാൾ പതിയെ നടന്നു കവലയുടെ നടുക്ക് നിലകൊള്ളുന്ന ഒരു സ്മാരകത്തിലേക്കായിരുന്നു. ഏതോ ഒരു സമരത്തിൽ രക്തസാക്ഷിയായ ഒരു കൂട്ടം വിദ്യാർത്ഥികളുടെ സ്മാരകമായിരുന്നു അത് . അവിടെ അയാൾ ഒരു നിമിഷം നിശബ്ദനായി നിലകൊണ്ടു . അതിനുശേഷം താൻ കൊണ്ടുവന്ന സാധനങ്ങൾ അതിനു കീഴെ വച്ചിട്ടു  മെല്ലെ നടന്നകന്നു, ഒരിക്കൽ പോലും തിരിഞ്ഞു നോക്കാതെ. ചിലപ്പോൾ അയാൾ കാണാൻ ആഗ്രഹിക്കുന്നില്ല എന്നപോലെ. അയാളെ പിൻതുടർന്നു കൂടുതൽ ചോദിച്ചറിയാൻ തോന്നിയെങ്കിലും അയാളുടെ ആ സ്വകാര്യ നിമിഷം അയാൾക്കു പ്രിയപെട്ടതാവാം എന്നൊരു തോന്നൽ എന്റെ മനസ്സിൽ കയറി കൂടിയിരുന്നത് കൊണ്ട് ആ ശ്രമം പിൻവലിച്ചു. ഞാൻ അയാൾ വച്ചിട്ട് പോയ പൊതിക്കു ഒപ്പം ഒരു എഴുത്തു കണ്ടു. നടന്നുചെന്നു അത് എടുത്തു തുറന്നുപ്പോൾ അതിൽ ചുരുങ്ങിയ വാക്കുകൾക്കുള്ളിൽ എഴുതിയ ചില വാക്കുകൾ മാത്രം…

“നിങ്ങൾ മരിക്കുന്നില്ല.. നിങ്ങളെ കരുവാക്കിയ ആ കഴുകന്മാർ മറന്നാലും നീ ഇന്നും  മറക്കാത്ത ഓർമയായി എന്റെ അവസാന ശ്വാസം വരെയും നിലകൊള്ളും…”

എന്നു നിങ്ങളുടെ സ്വന്തം പ്രിയപ്പെട്ട 

ഒരു അദ്ധ്യാപകൻ 

ഞാൻ ആ സ്മാരകത്തിന്റെ കീഴെ പണ്ട് ആരോ എഴുതിയിക്കുന്ന വാക്കുകൾ കൂടെ വായിച്ചിപോയതറിഞ്ഞില്ല…

“ഇവിടെ ഞങ്ങളുടെ വിദ്യാർത്ഥി രക്തസാക്ഷി ആയി ഉറങ്ങു……..”

 കൂടുതൽ വായിക്കാൻ മനസ്സനുവദിച്ചില്ല.

എനിക്ക് എല്ലാം മനസിലായിരിക്കുന്നു. എനിക്ക് ഒരു നിമിഷത്തേക്കു എന്നോട് തന്നെ വെറുപ്പും വിദ്വെഷവും തോന്നി. വാക്കുകളും ചിന്തയും മരവിച്ച ഞാൻ ആ നട്ടുച്ച വെയിലിൽ നിന്നു ഒന്നുമറിയാതെ….മറ്റൊരു ചൂട് മനസ്സിൽ എവിടേയോ കൂടി വരുന്നത് ഞാൻ അറിഞ്ഞിരുന്നു.






കാറ്റിൽ വഴിതെറ്റി വന്നൊരു അത്തറിന്റെ സുഗന്ധം അവിടെയാകെ പരന്നിരുന്നു. പച്ചപ്പു വിരിച്ച വൃക്ഷത്തിന്റെ തണലിൽ മനസിന്‌ കുളിരേകി ആ സുഗന്ധം എന്നെ കീഴടക്കി. ഉറുമ്പിൻ കൂട്ടങ്ങളെ പോലെ മുന്നിലൂടെ കടന്നു പോകുന്ന ജനങ്ങളുടെ ഇടയിൽ എവിടെയോ അവ ഒളിച്ചിരുന്നു. കാറ്റിന്റെ ദ്രുതഗതി മാറിമറഞ്ഞതും ആ നേർത്ത സുഗന്ധം പതിയെ ഇല്ലാതാവുകയാണ്. കയ്യെത്തും ദൂരത്തുനിന്നും അവ തട്ടിപ്പറിച്ചു കൊണ്ടുപോയിരിക്കുന്നു. അറിയാനുള്ള കടുത്ത ആഗ്രഹം സ്വന്തം മനസ്സിനെ കീഴടക്കിയിരിക്കുന്നു. എന്നാൽ അവ നഷ്ട്ടപെട്ടിരിക്കുന്നു, ഒരു നായയെ പോലെ മണത്തറിയാനുള്ളു എല്ലാ ശ്രമവും വെറുതെയായി. അവ ആ ആൾക്കൂട്ടത്തിനിടയിൽ അലിഞ്ഞു ചേർന്നിരിക്കുന്നു. സുപരിചിതമായ മറ്റൊരു ഗന്ധം കടന്നുവന്നിരിക്കുന്നു, ഇട്ടിട്ടു മുഷിഞ്ഞ ഷർട്ട് അലക്കാനുള്ള സമയമായി എന്നെ ഓര്മപെടുത്തലുമായി. വിയർത്തൊട്ടിയ ഷർട്ടുമായി എന്റെ അത്തറിന്റെ സുഗന്ധവുമായി ജനക്കൂട്ടത്തിലെ ഞാൻ ഇറങ്ങി നടക്കട്ടെ.


ഒരു രാത്രി കൂടി

മങ്ങിയ നിറമുള്ള പരുത്തി വസ്ത്രം ആ ജനാലകളെ മറച്ചിരുന്നു. അതിൽ ചുവന്ന റോസാപ്പൂക്കളാൽ അലങ്കരിച്ചിരിക്കുന്നു. ചൂട് അസഹ്യമാണ്. വായുമാർഗം കടക്കുവാൻ ഒന്നും തന്നെ അവിടെയുണ്ടായിരുന്നില്ല. സമയം അറിയില്ല, തീർത്തും നിശബ്ദത നിറഞ്ഞു നിൽക്കുകയാണ് അവിടെയാകെ. കണ്ണുകൾ അടച്ചു ഉറങ്ങുവാൻ തോന്നി. ക്ഷീണം ശരീരത്തെ കീഴടക്കാൻ തുടങ്ങിയെങ്കിലും മനസ്സ് ഒരു ലക്ഷ്യത്തിനായി ഉണർന്നിരുന്നു. കതകിൽ ആരോ മുട്ടുന്നുണ്ട്.

‘കടന്ന് വന്നോളൂ’ അവൾ പറഞ്ഞു.

കാഴ്ച്ച മങ്ങിയിരുന്നെങ്കിലും മേശയിൽ അയാൾക്കായി വച്ചിരുന്ന ഒരു പൊതിയെടുത്ത അവൾ അയാൾക്ക്‌ നീട്ടി. പതിവുപോലെ വാങ്ങുവാൻ അയാൾ മടികാണിച്ചെങ്കിലും അവൾ അത് അയാളുടെ കൈയിൽ അമർത്തി കൊടുത്തു.

‘ഇതു കുറവാണല്ലോ ?. ഇതു കൊണ്ട് ഒന്നും ആവില്ല ‘, അയാൾ ഒറ്റനോട്ടത്തിൽ പറഞ്ഞു. ‘ബാക്കി എപ്പോൾ തരും. ഇനി സമയമില്ല. അറിയാലോ ?. പറഞ്ഞിരുന്ന അവധിയൊക്കെ കഴിയുകയാണ് നാളെ; അയാൾ തെല്ലു അരിശത്തോടെ പറഞ്ഞു നിർത്തി.

എന്തൊ ഒന്നുകൂടി പറയാൻ അയാൾ ആഗ്രഹിച്ചിരുനെങ്കിലും പറയാതെ നിശബ്ദനായി.

‘ ബാക്കി നാളെ ഞാൻ എത്തുച്ചേക്കാം. രാത്രി ഇനിയും ബാക്കിയാണ്. വരുവാൻ ഇനിയും ആൾ കാണും. ഇപ്പോൾ നിങ്ങൾ സമയം കളയാതെ പോകൂ ‘, അവൾ തെല്ലു ദേഷ്യത്തോടെ പറഞ്ഞൊപ്പിച്ചു. അവളുടെ ആത്മവിശ്വാസം അയാൾ വിശ്വസിപ്പിച്ചിരിക്കാം. അയാൾ  ഉടൻ തന്നെ മുറിവിട്ട് പുറത്തു പോയി. ഉള്ളിൽ വെറുപ്പുണ്ടെങ്കിലും അയാളെ അവൾ വിശ്വസിക്കുന്നു. കഴിഞ്ഞ പല വർഷങ്ങളായി അയാൾ അവൾക്കു വേണ്ടി ചെയ്ത സഹായം ഈ ശരീരം കൊണ്ട്  അയാൾക്കു കൊടുത്ത പ്രതിഫലത്തിലും അധികമാണ്. അമ്മ ആരെന്നു അറിയാതെ അയാൾ തന്റെ മകനെ വളർത്തി വലുതാക്കി. ഇന്ന് അവൻ തന്റെ പഠനം കഴിഞ്ഞു പുറത്തു ഇറങ്ങുകയാണ്. നാളെ അവന്റെ ഫീസിന്റെ കുടിശ്ശിക അടച്ചു തീർക്കുവാനുള്ള അവസാന തീയതിയാണ്. മാസങ്ങളായി ഈ ശരീരം വിറ്റുകിട്ടിയ കാശുകൊണ്ടാണ് അവനെ പഠിപ്പിച്ചത്, അവൻ പോലുമറിയാതെ. ഇന്നു കൂടി, ഈ ഒരു രാത്രി കൂടി മതിയാവും എല്ലാം തനിക്കു മതിയാക്കാൻ. ഓരോന്നും ആലോചിച്ചു കൊണ്ടിരുന്ന അവൾ ഒരാൾ തന്റെ മുറിയിലേക്കു കടന്നു വന്നത് അപ്പോഴാണ് അറിഞ്ഞത്. അവൾ പെട്ടെന്ന് എഴുന്നേറ്റ് കട്ടിലൊക്കെ വിരിച്ചു ശരിയാക്കി.

‘കാശ് മുമ്പേ പറഞ്ഞേക്കാം. പിന്നീട് കുറക്കാൻ പറ്റില്ല. നിങ്ങൾക്കു മനസിലായോ ?’,അവൾ ഇതിനിടയിൽ പറഞ്ഞു. അയാൾ ഇതു കേട്ടിട്ടു ഒന്നും മിണ്ടിയില്ല. അയാൾ അപ്പോഴും ഇരുട്ടിൽ നിൽക്കുകയാണ്.

അവൾക്കു ദേഷ്യം വന്നുവെങ്കിലും അതൊന്നും കാട്ടാതെ അവൾ മേശയിൽ വച്ചിരുന്ന വിളക്കെടുത്ത അയാളുടെ മുഖത്തേക്ക് തെളിയിച്ചു. സുന്ദരനായി ഒരു ചെറുപ്പക്കാരൻ അവിടെ നിന്നു കരയുകയാണ്. അവൾ ആകെ കുഴങ്ങിയിരുന്നു. അവൾക്കു ഒന്നും പിടികിട്ടിയിരുന്നില്ല. അവൾ എന്തെങ്കിലും പറയുന്നതിനും മുമ്പേ അയാൾ തന്റെ ഇടറിയ സ്വരത്തിൽ ഒരൊറ്റ വാക്കുമാത്രം അവളോട് പറഞ്ഞു…

‘അമ്മേ…. ‘