Journey of a lifetime

From a Jack to a King

And the kingmaker? My mom! In 1969 when man landed on the moon this happy-go-lucky girl from a small village in Kerala watched as MAN took his first step on the moon, on a TV sitting in a hotel room in US ! A little village girl brought up in a remote village, scaling up walls along with her siblings, picking flowers to make garlands for her Lord Krishna, found herself catering to the whims and fancies of another Lord whom she had accepted as her spouse. And then they went on a whirlwind tour of their life which ended only at the turn of the century! A story that spanned nearly the whole twentieth century.

It is a wonder how a couple with such contrasting backgrounds and characters built their life brick by brick taking every opportunity to step forward supporting each other in their own way. Amma, officially known as Manjapra Varieth Madhavi(Madhavi), a fifth grade drop-out, was from a family where children had to make do with all that was available and a father who made his rare appearance once in a while. 

Achan, Kannanpuzha Ramachandra Warrier(K.R.Warrier) was the son of a Government school Headmaster with a mother and sisters well-educated with strong literate background. His career starting from being a Community Project officer to Superintending Engineer at Kerala State Electricity Board(KSEB) took him through the tortuous city and forest terrain while she maintained the strong familial ties that he lovingly appreciated despite her quixotic manners.

As I sit at the window of my daughter's house in The US, the country that every Indian dreams of visiting at least once before they breathe their last, I wonder how my mother coped with the major obstacles she must have encountered on her journey across the seven seas, with my father and two of his colleagues in the sixties . A time when man landed on the moon and the Beatle-mania was at the peak! The journey is etched in my brain. Each and every anecdote has passed through my lips umpteen number of times thanks to repeating it for the benefit of friends and relatives who thronged our drawing room to get a glimpse of the voyage indelibly etched on colourful slides - a wonder in itself in the late sixties.

 Today as I ruminate over that trip which to me in those days took about an hour or two to narrate, it appears next to impossible for anybody to have achieved it at a time when no communication was possible.  I can recite it by heart like one recites the thousand names of the various Gods - Bombay to Cairo and onwards to Rome and Paris. Across the English Channel to London and then over the Atlantic to NewYork and via  Buffallo to Niagra. Next leg of the journey I guess was a flight to Montreal /Winnipeg where they stayed for a month and also visited Calgary before moving in the southern direction to San Francisco, Los Angeles where they took the opportunity to see Hollywood, Disneyland and even the Grand Canyons!!! Can you believe that they touched Hawai on their way to Japan though it was only a stopover. The last leg home was through Malaysia and Singapore.

How my father managed to pull off such a feat against opposition from various quarters including the Homefront where his own sisters felt it was a waste of money to take his wife on an official trip spending all his savings when He had to marry off three girls!!! On return even his Minister called him to ask for explanation and he joked stressing on the possessive adjective used by the minister saying it was his misfortune not to have got the chance to undertake the journey with the Minister's wife and he had to settle for his own wife!

It was cumbersome to even get visa I guess, for which they had to undertake a special journey to Chennai( the erstwhile Madras). Amma(Mom) sitting in an Impala car wearing goggles and waiting for Achan(Dad) was mistaken for a popular film actress. On Achan's return he found the car surrounded by curious onlookers who were peeping in to catch a glimpse of her.

A gaunt schoolgirl I remember saying goodbye to my parents standing on the tarmac next to the aeroplane, possible in those gloves and dagger days, long before terrorists entered the scene with bombs and other electronic devices. To a worried aunty's query as to whether I would survive without my mother for two whole months my mother confidently replied that she had no worries on that score as I was a very independent girl. My only query was if America was further away from Madras to which my father replied that one has to cross the seven seas to reach America.

As I watched, the plane carrying my parents was soon a speck of dust on the horizon and I went back to my daily routine. The postcards that we received on a regular basis from Dad personally addressed to me was the first ever correspondence I received. It was also the first glimpse I had of the strange world outside our small laid back town. Not having been helicopter parents neither my Dad or Mom directly interacted with me regarding their trip though they often regaled the incidents they encountered with humorous anecdotes that were oft repeated by me to enchanted audiences, even if at times it went beyond my comprehension!!!