I really don't know how to begin. Noel Albert-I go by this name. Britona- I hail from, and what relaxes me is a tin of good German beer in my father's not-so-popular resort on a summer night. It was in 2001 when Britona(Goa) was visited less by tourists and most of the resorts were home to bugs and flies. My father, Jonathan Albert was a simple man- I mean he is-and is still alive. Apart from a business that earned him loans and losses, two things in his life never met:
a) The ends of his mustache and beard(as he craved for a perfectly Goan French circle)
b)His plea for a licensed Jet-ski venture over a lake adjoining the resort.
The first thing was naturally unattained, but the second wish was punctured by a strict and a piece of oddity Municipal Commissioner. He hailed from somewhere down south and would only raise his fat spectacles to reject applications in the office. He didn't want bribe, he wanted things systematic. Whenever I asked dad about the 'jet-ski' thing, he would turn his eyes away and concentrate on the glass of sherry in his hand. One day, I somehow got to know why was that:
With frustration and a nothing-to-lose attitude, father once yelled at the commissioner, “You fine piece of decayed scum! I want my damn permission and I will get it! Clean your kickass eyegear and see for yourself!”
The man sitting in the chair welcomed
Jonathan Albert's words through a cold passage and maintained a frozen expression on his face. It was as if he believed that revenge flows slowly, but it does.
We had a great laugh while cherishing that memory and added it to our 'Record Of Craziest Memories'; A diary dad kept just in case we found ourselves falling short of devilishly loud laughter, not enough to suffice for a day.
Our life in Britona was simple, slow but always ecstatic. Every little thing-even a free drop of coconut water dripped from above would make us wonder how magical this world can be at times. We loathed all lectures discussing the bittersweet, or maybe just bitter reality of life. And we loathed the lecturer even more. We were content in one chapel, eight resorts(to form the little infrastructure), a few homes and shops and Peace, falling within the diameter of our dainty village.
Besides all the means of relaxation at my disposal in Britona, I had a great treasure back home; My mother. Joanna. She fell off a coconut tree along with seven coconuts that cried lots of water on her fall. Now before you wonder how she got up there, let me tell you she's a coconut fanatic and can go heights to fetch them and wouldn't even mind doing that in a crane. So, she now drives a wheelchair through the house, curses all series of events and secretly plans to make her wheelchair elevate, so as to...you know what.
Our family discussions took place post dinner in our courtyard, with dad boasting over beer about how he, in his thirties, boosted the family income and status by starting a resort and mother reminding his senses that it was all possible only because of her father's money and support. And then an argument would break out. Cute a family, we are.
One night, in such a talk, dad mentioned something. “Noel, you are totally wasting your time in this godforsaken village. I want you to travel to Cochin and assist uncle Shawn”, he said sipping his sherry and mother already fixing her eyes on him.
“It's after many years that you've said something good, Jonathan”, mother patted him.
And then came the final call in unison,
“Pack your bags, Noel!”
Cochin was quite not the place for me. Coconut water replaces wine in most of the places, commercialization is pretty good but Kerela has its own natural patches
;Peaceful, green, but may appertain shrub-sickness, if biology doesn't fall in the ambit of your interest. I liked the market areas, they are clean. The entire place exudes the essence of just one thing; Coconut.
Coconut flowers, coconut coir, stalls selling Putthu; A coconut dominated dish and much more.
Infact, the irony was ridiculous-the name of the inn was staying at-'Kalpavriksha'.It gave me a funny visual of my mother getting baffled in Cochin.
But Cochin was not my destination either. I had to advance to somewhere, more uncivilized.
“Catch a train to Chalakudy. I'll keep you posted about the details once you get there”, dad informed me the next morning.
“Alright, dad.”
“I hope you're not bored, Noel.”
“Not at all, dad. I am in love with coconuts. You want some?”
He hung up.
Alright, Chalakudy is somewhere you wouldn't dare traveling to, unless you crave for 'sanyasa' or you want more coconuts-more than what you get in Cochin. Before I could map the size of the town, I found myself near its limits. A-boy-from-Goa-tortured-best-by-being-placed-abreast-from-core urbanization-in-a-town-even-the chief-minister-hardly-knows-of. Who cares about the chief minister. “I need a drink. A real drink”, I declared to myself. I badly needed to find uncle Shawn's residence and drain his stock of beer(if he had any, in this dainty and detached town)
A little opulence welcomed me when I visited him. He had a lovely house, not like the typically 'Gouda' home, but a good catholic house. Uncle Shawn ran a business of tourism and offering travel bookings as well. He was the only chap in town who could book tickets for people going out of Chalakudy. I got the gist of my job-it was boring and I regretted not accepting dad's offer of joining him in our resort. But now the die was cast and my life was done for.
Shawn Albert had stocked more beer at his place than I could imagine. “You see, we can't live on coconut water forever”,He told me over a drink and I chuckled.
“But uncle, I can't sit all my life booking tickets to places-with-weirdest-names. I'll handle your tourism and show this place to tourists”, I demanded.
Uncle grinned, “Perfect. We begin tomorrow.”
Next day, Murthy, the guide appointed by my uncle was fired...with great difficulty though. He was promised the permanency of his job for another five years but my sudden arrival recessed him out-Oops.
“You may begin, Noel. Do it with all your heart. And whenever you find a good reason for returning to Goa, let me know.”
“Okay,uncle.”
My new world was a somewhat luxurious cabin,
with a computer, a calender, two guest chairs, a fan, and a light and some posters depicting natural extravagance of Chalakudy. In Kerala, the belief that women bring fortune holds a significant position in people's perception. No wonder they assert that 'if your first customer is a lady,you will never have a last customer'; A smart way of saying that your business will flourish and be long-lasting.
Now before I could fashion a reactive expression on my face on a sudden barge-in, my first customer who was a female, had had her index finger pointed at me and a sweetly shrill voice coming from her round lips sprinkled beautifully triumphant water on my mind.
“Durganjali Shankar Venkatanarayanan, my name. Can you tell me is this some manners to remove my brother out of his job. When Mr. Albert promised him to work here for five years?”
“I understand, miss....”
“No you listen to me. My father very big person. Still this poor natured Murthy working here is called simplicity. I want to talk to Mr. Albert about it. Who are you?”
“Okay. Now with your kind permission, I shall speak. I am Noel Albert, Mr. Albert's nephew. And....”
“You nephew don't have any work or what? Joining small town business and harassing the dedicated. Go, educate and work in big city. My Murthy will work here.”
I remained quiet this time. Until a full-fledged permission to speak without being interrupted was granted to me by the beautiful moonlit-skinned girl who'd donned a round pair of spectacles.
“See, Miss Venkatanar..ay..ya..”
“Venkatanarayanan!”, came a stern correction.
“Exactly. I appreciate Murthy's support to this workplace. He can assist me here in my work.”
She was about to open her big mouth when I stopped her. “And now before you fire me again, Miss Venkatanar....whatever, I assure you that Murthy's job will remain permanent for the promised term at least”, I breathed out.
And then a miracle happened. No, not that magical evening of Chalakudy when chrome oil-lamps lit in every courtyard throw their soothing light on the streets, the miracle was-Her smile with a pinch of blush in it-as she walked out.
After fresh bananas, coconuts and healthy food served on banana leaves, I cherished Durga's friendship which bloomed with each passing day. She behaves strict, disciplined but has a soft corner for laughing and talks very good. In Kerala, I witnessed, sisters come to pick up their little brothers from schools or offices. Everyday, as we met, we began falling in love with each and with the beauty of Chalakudy river.
“I think we should go boating at dawn tomorrow”, Durga once suggested. “The river appears like a heavenly path that time.”
Dawn. The best time of the day. We rented a house-boat and were graduating into each other's life by trying to know the other to the fullest extent.
“Tell me about your family, Durga.”
“We come from disciplined background. My father is a Municipal Commissioner and is currently appointed near Britona in Goa.”
I dropped my cup of coconut water on hearing that. “Where did you say he lives?”
“Britona. Why?”
And I narrated the entire truth to her about the wine-like old rivalry between our fathers. I told her everything. At first, she looked right into my eyes with an angry streak. The next moment, we both were loudly laughing. It was the perfect moment, I thought. I pulled her by her hand and softly kissed her round and berry-pink lips as the svelte clouds of the dawn paved the way for sunrays on the waters of Chalakudy...and on our fate. The very next moment, I received a mild slap. “Never do that again, we are cultured people”, she said that with another of her attractive blushes and then entered the territory of my arms and settled there for hours together.
“Your mother, Durga? You never mention her.”
“I don't have one, Noel. She left us too soon.”
This time, I went for her forehead and embraced her dense hair that scented of herbs. “I have one at home.”
“I'll treat her as mine.”
Finally, as uncle said, I had found a reason-a beautiful reason rather-to return to Goa.
Fairy tale over. Now, Britona seemed like a battleground and calming the tiff between two fathers, was the task. Arranging a face-off was the tactic and holding on to hope was the strategy. The meeting was actually a blind showdown. Mr. Shankar Venkatanarayanan was extremely happy on his daughter's surprise visit-everyone in the office saw him grinning for the first time-but the grin was short-lived. The very next moment he restored the usual expression on his face. “But why have you come here?”
“Appa, Murthy will now be close to you. He will work in a resort here, in Britona. The owners are very good people. I came here to talk to the family....”
“Enough. You know why I don't allow you to leave Kerala? The outside world is not good. Our state people are better. Here, people..no discipline, no manners. Anyhow they talk, they abuse. And you want Murthy to rot here? Never.”
“But Appa, you cannot do like this to us. We have to experience outside world someday. Why not now? Please at least meet the family once. You will like them”, she said the last sentence with a loud heartbeat within.
At the Albert's, I brought dad home from the resort and requested my mother to stop asking questions.
“Unless you tell me why we need to meet your friend, I won't keep quiet.”
“Mom, she knows the Municipal Commissioner well and can get our jet-ski venture approved”, I looked at dad's surprised face after saying that.
“Hmm? Is there even a person who can make that jackass agree?”, dad shot.
“Yes, I mean...see for yourself.”
At sharp six-thirty PM, Jonathan Albert's eyes could spot a familiar-looking face striding towards their residence. He was used to spot customers at a distance, coming to the resort. As the face came near, the chances of having the two ricochet, fainted.
“This scum! What the hell is he doing here? Noel! Is this the person you want me to meet? Drive him out of this house and tell him he's been r-e-j-e-c-t-e-d. Haha! R-e-j-e-c-t-e-d”.
“Durga? What is this? You want Murthy to work in his resort? It doesn't even run. This man is mannerless and stupid. See how he talks? Murthy will never work here. Never! Come, we are going!”
Dad lost it, completely. “What did you just say, you freaking banana leaf!?”
And mom intervened, “he said your resort doesn't run, you deaf person.”
Durga's father laughed callously at that and dad slapped his laughter dead. It was all, a chaos as both of them wrestled in the courtyard and to make things worse, Mr. Venkatanarayanan fell on dad's favourite rocking-chair, and it broke. Me and Durga exchanged petrified looks. Marriage seemed to have transformed into a nightmare for us. It appeared as a big mismatch. A complicated southern mismatch.
“Noel, did you get coconuts for me?”, mom asked in the middle of the milee and I slapped my forehead.
It was nine-thirty and by the lake near our resort, me, Durga, our black and blue fathers and my upset mother(for not having the coconuts) were seated. The rift was solved-only physically-now, as Durga termed it, “We are going to face the verbal war.”
“So, it's marriage. Right?” Our parents were talking in unison. Me and Durga lowered our heads and our parent's questions were like guillotine; Ready to slice us. First, it was dad who opposed.
“Noel, these people are pure vegans. Look into my eyes and tell me. Are you ready to give up the exquisite lamb dishes I cook? And eat Idli Sambar for the rest of your life?”, he looked at her father and got a cold stare in return.
Then it was Mr. Commissioner's turn. “Durga? Saw how he talks? You always wanted discipline, didn't you? These disgusting people are not for you.”
After it, mom spoke. “Durga, can you make good coconut chutney?”
“Yes, Mrs. Albert. I make it delicious.”
“Noel, I like this girl. Stop this nuisance and let's discuss about wedding preparations”, she told dad.
“Mrs. Albert. I personally don't feel these two should marry...You see, our cultures don't match...”
And the argument deepened, thickened and worsened. I looked at Durga, we held hands, got up from the chairs...and jumped into the lake. No, no...the lake wasn't that deep. We started playing in the water before our parents. Stunned, everyone stopped talking, and saw us hugging in the middle of the lake. It was mom's idea and it succeeded. Looking at our childishness, Mr. Albert and Mr. Venkatanarayanan laughed and hugged each other. Okay, Albert, I will approve your venture on this lake. Keep my daughter's smile consistent, like this.”
“Don't order me, scum.”
The commissioner's violent streak returned in his eyes and he fixed his eyes angrily on Dad.
“...Order Noel.”
And they all had a hearty laugh that evening. Well, something in life-maybe an invisible energy, brings together two people from different backgrounds as one. The ones who are never meant to be as 'perfect' together in the eyes of the people, somehow meet and form the most perfect pair ever. But then, what do we call this driving force. Destiny?
Sagher
