Global warming has become hot headlines for some time and world Environment Day June 5th has come and gone

Paddu read aloud, “what’s your CQ?” Well, she had heard of 1Q but CQ.? As she read what that meant she thought aloud.

“Both had to be combined to get the CSQ(Common sense Q).! Specially for the US. They were the largest pollutants and being a developed country it was their responsibility to curb green house emissions instead of warning the developing countries like India and China”.

Paddu wondered how with only 4% of the world’s population they could be responsible for 25% of GHG (green house gas)emissions. Really, US could do with loads of CSQ, definitely! She sighed. US or no the fact that stared her in the face was climate change was here, global warming, threat of floods and rise in temperature was no longer a horror story or sci-fi, it was real. And everyone had to do their bit to save the Environment.
She called up her daughter in Sydney- “Hey, what are u folks doing to save the Earth’’? Saumya was an environmentalist and had worked under Suresh Hebelikar but had left him when she felt that he turned commercial. She cared a lot for conservation of forests and wildlife.
She said “Momma, Ozzies don’t care for the environment, they are only bothered about controlling forest fires. They are crazy about 4 wheel driving and boating”

Paddu sighed – It was true .Each and everyone cared only for their life. Well, but Ozzies were strict about wasting water. Gardens could be hosed only twice a week and that too before 10am and after 4pm. Water patrol would fine anyone who did not comply with the rules . Good for Australia.At least water wasn’t wasted. They had to be careful as there were chances of Aus becoming a desert in the near future.

Now India. Paddu wondered what she could do to save the planet. Mother Earth, Bhoomi, Jahanvi. She picked up the paper again. The Times had done a thorough research on the subject.

a) Do not use plastic

Goodness , did plastic actually take a million years to disintegrate ? Apart from choking cattle and fish? Touba touba. And her house was full of plastic,in one form or the other. She had to stop its use and from today.A full stop to plastic bags from the supermarket and if her husband shamelessly asked for an extra shopping bag from any shop she shouldn’t forget to knock him senseless.!!

b) switch off all fans and lights when not in use.

Oh dear, her kitchen and fish tank light was always on. Chop, chop….. Indian idol, stir fry….. kyunki saans……The servant also switched on all fans after swabbing. “To dry faster amma”, she would say . Paddu was sure that she left most of the corners unswabbed and wanted to cover up.!

c)Never put comp on standby mode.

Thank God she didn’t do that as she wasn’t comp savvy!

d) Switch off charger of mobile.

Well, she was guilty on this count too as she removed the mobile and left the wire plugged in. Her husband too. But then if he had his way he would live in full diwali splendour, if he didn’t it was becoz she followed him around like a lamb shutting everything after him …..

e)Shut off tap while brushing and shaving.

Yes, they left the tap running while she brushed and he shaved. In between he would be answering phone calls too. How many gallons of water did they , a single family waste in a day? Just down the drain?She hid her face in shame. She didn’t dare to read any further but a peek told her that she was guilty on many issues.

I t made her sit up and think. Her friends would be doing the same things even more so as they were more affluent than she. But if this situation continued there would be no tomorrow for the children. No earth to live in. And to think all the years of slogging and penny pinching by parents so that the children have a good life… a stable future which no parent can deny them.

But if the earth itself collapsed …..Whoa ….hold on…

She had to make a start. First the garbage to be sorted wet and dry. Then switch off all electrical appliances. The outside light had to go, no burning all night to ward off thieves. Thankfully she insisted on CFL bulbs and not the incandescent ones ( sorry James Watt) And sorry God the light burning in your room also has to go. A start had been made.

Now to call up her friends and tell them to do the same. Before she could pick up the phone it rang, It was Shailaja.

“ Paddu, we have to do something about global warming….”.Paddu’s heart warmed . Her friends were also alert and aware. And if every citizen felt the same the earth would continue to be the green earth of whom we are all proud. Because we need the earth for our sustenance and not the other way round. And to quote an ad ‘Mother earth, you are worth it!!!’

THe river Ganga in Haridwar is always in spate.The gushing waters cascade like a mini Niagara Falls and the force of the flowing waters is enough to propel anything forward in the blink of an eye. The Haridwar authorities have installed heavy metal chains along the river for people to hold when they take their holy dip. Only certain parts of the river are open to the public.
On a trip to Haridwar, one summer, I, along with my family prepared to take the dip in the holy waters of Haridwar. Hindus believe that the dip would cleanse you of all your sins. So this particular ritual is a crowded one. Everyone was intent on just plunging into the chilly waters and plunging out . I held on to my husband’s arm and the children held on to mine and his and each others. The water chilled us to the bone but we held on as the waves tried their best to carry us along .I was glad when my feet were on Terra firma again. As I dried my girls, I suddenly heard people exclaiming and some were even laughing.

Looking at the direction of the noise, I saw a very funny(?) sight. One devotee had ventured a little bit further and realized that the waters were too strong for him. So he was holding on to a strong cement structure somewhat like a mini lighthouse that was there at regular intervals made specifically for the purpose of adventurous devotees. He held on for dear life. He was wearing only his drawers or bloomers common to menfolk in that part of India. As we watched, the strong waves opened out the knot of his drawers and it smoothly glided down. There he stood stark naked, the waves beating against his shriveled penis. The poor guy did not need to freeze. He just hung on for dear life with or without bloomers. If he tried to help himself in anyway the waves would do the rest. This was one man whose sins were indeed washed away. Of course life guards rescued him but it was a sight none of us would forget in a jiffy.

The statistics of English is astonishing. It has the richest vocabulary -about 500,000 words not counting the half-million uncatalogued scientific and technical terms. Whew!
Not surprising , considering the fact that three –quarters of the world’s mail, telexes and cables , are in English. It is the language of technology, computer, sports and glamour, it is the official language of the Olympics . All the broadcasting companies use English and it is also the voice of Christianity . Need I say more?

English has become a second language in countries like India, Kenya, Nigeria and Singapore. It is a vital, alternative language tool unifying diverse populations. English is also taught as a foreign language in countries like Holland and Yugoslavia.
So English has risen much above being a colonial legacy, it has evolved into many englishes. Confusing ,but true.

The establishment of the English public schools for the nobility and the Education Act (1870) brought about a divide. The speech of the educated elite contrasted drastically with the eminent Victorians. Even teachers started rebuking any child who said ‘loike ‘ for like or ‘doyed ‘for died. In fact Australians still say ‘ noise’ for nice !
Picking up accents and intonation in speech became the rage and anyone speaking Non-standard English was passé.
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• The Indochinese Tiger (Panthera tigris corbetti), also called Corbett’s tiger, is found in Cambodia, China, Laos, Burma, Thailand, and Vietnam. These tigers are smaller and darker than Bengal tigers: Males weigh from 150–190 kg (330–420 lb) while females are smaller at 110–140 kg (242–308 lb). Their preferred habitat is forests in mountainous or hilly regions. Estimates of the Indonese tiger population vary between 1,200 to 1,800, with only several hundred left in the wild. The largest current population is in Malaysia, where illegal poaching is strictly controlled, but all existing populations are at extreme risk from habitat fragmentation and inbreeding. In Vietnam, almost three-quarters of the tigers killed provide stock for Chinese pharmacies.
• The Malayan Tiger (Panthera tigris malayensis ), exclusively found in the southern (Malaysian) part of the Malay peninsula, was not considered a subspecies in its own right until 2004. The new classification came about after a study by Luo et al. from the Laboratory of Genomic diversity Study, part of the National Cancer institute of the United States. Recent counts showed there are 600–800 tigers in the wild, making it the third largest tiger population behind the Bengal tiger and the Indochinese tiger. The Malayan tiger is a national icon in Malaysia, appearing on its coat of arms and in logos of Malaysian institutions, such as Maybank.

• The Sumatran (Panthera tigris sumatrae) is found only on the Indonesian island of Sumatra, and is critically endangered. It is the smallest of all living tiger subspecies, with adult males weighing between 100–130 kg (220–286 lb) and females 70–90 kg (154–198 lb). Their small size is an adaptation to the thick, dense forests of the Sumatra island where they reside, as well as the smaller-sized prey. The wild population is estimated at between 400 and 500, seen chiefly in the island’s national parks. Recent genetic testing has revealed the presence of unique genetic markers, indicating that it may develop into a separate species, if it does not go extinct. This has led to suggestions that Sumatran tigers should have greater priority for conservation than any other subspecies. While Habitat destruction is the main threat to the existing tiger population (logging continues even in the supposedly protected national parks), 66 tigers were recorded as being shot and killed between 1998 and 2000, or nearly 20% of the total population.
• The Siberian tiger(Panthera tigris altaica ), also known as the Amur, Manchurian or North china tiger, is confined to the Amur -Ussuri region of Primorsky and Khabarovsky in far eastern Siberia, where it is now protected. Considered the largest subspecies, with an average weight of around 227 kg (500 lb) for males. The Amur tiger is also noted for its thick coat, distinguished by a paler golden hue and a fewer stripes. A six-month old Siberian tiger can be as big as a fully grown leopard. The last two censuses (1996 and 2005) found 450–500 Amur tigers within their single and more or less continuous range making it one of the largest undivided tiger populations in the world.
• The South China tiger (Panthera tigris amoyensis ), also known as the Amoy or Xiamen tiger, is the most critically endangered subspecies of tiger and is listed as one of the 10 most endangered species in the world, will almost certainly become extinct. It is one of the smaller tiger subspecies. The length of the South China tiger ranges from 2.2–2.6 m (87–104 in) for both males and females. Males weigh between 127 and 177 kg (280–390 lb) while females weigh between 100 and 118 kg (220–260 lb). From 1983 to 2007, no South China tigers were sighted. In 2007 a farmer spotted a tiger and handed in photographs to the authorities as proof. In 1977, the Chinese government passed a law banning the killing of wild tigers, but this may have been too late to save the subspecies. There are currently 59 known captive South China tigers, all within China, but these are known to be descended from only six animals. Thus, the genetic diversity required to maintain the subspecies may no longer exist. Currently, there are breeding efforts to reintroduce these tigers to the wild by 2008.

The Balinese tiger (Panthera tigris balica) was limited to the island of Bali. These tigers were hunted to extinction—the last Balinese tiger is thought to have been killed at Sumbar Kima, West Bali on 27 September 1937; this was an adult female. No Balinese tiger was ever held in captivity. The tiger still plays an important role in Balinese Hindu religion.
• The Javan Tiger (Panthera tigris sondaica) was limited to the Indonesian island of Java. It now seems likely that this subspecies became extinct in the1980’s, as a result of hunting and habitat destruction, but the extinction of this subspecies was extremely probable from the 1950’s onwards (when it is thought that fewer than 25 tigers remained in the wild). The last specimen was sighted in1979, but there were rumours of reported sightings during the 1990s.
• The Caspian or Persian tiger (Panthera tigris virgatta ) appears to have become extinct in the late1950’s with the last reliable sighting in1968, though it is thought that such a tiger was last shot dead in the south-eastern-most part of Turkey in 1970. Historically it ranged through Afghanistan,Iran , Iraq, Pakistan, the former Soviet Union, and Turkey. The Caspian tiger was a large subspecies and reached nearly the dimensions of the Bengal Tiger. The heaviest confirmed weight of a male was 240 kg. The ground colour was comparable to that of the Indian subspecies, but differed especially in the tight, narrow striping pattern. The stripes were rather dark grey or brown than black. Especially during the winter, the fur was relatively long. The Caspian tiger was one of two subspecies of tiger (along with the Bengal) that was used by the Romans to battle gladiators and other animals, including the Barbary Lion. The Romans traveled far to capture exotic beasts for the arena. There are still occasional reported sightings of the Caspian Tiger in the wild. Now the Panthera tigris virgatta has obtained virgatti! Amen.
If action is not taken immediately ,Our National Animal will soon become nonexistent. Just a symbol on paper.

I woke up with a start. Oh, dear God ,today, we would be leaving for Kerala, Palghat in fact ,my elder daughter would be writing her CET , Kerala. She had taken a year off to study for it. She had written the Karnataka one too and also the Delhi and Pondicherry. We were like the typical pushy parents forcing her to study for medical and pushing her… pushing her…My husband began his nagging ..hurry, hurry start before Rahu kalam , don’t see any bad shagunam like an Otta pattar ( single Brahman) etc etc. By the time the car rolled down the drive of Jal Vayu Vihar my daughters were fit to scream and I am sure she had forgotten everything she had pushed down her brain. The time must have been around 7 am. The bright sun blinked at us as my daughters settled down at the back. I sat like a compass in front ready to navigate my husband as he drove oh soooo slowly. We had barely reached Kammana halli Main road when from behind we were hit by a speeding Matador who had taken a sudden turn . Before we recovered from the shock and jolt he had vanished . The kids were rattled but thankfully not scared but my husband hit the roof. He sent some price abuses after the speeding vehicle and then stood forlornly looking at the dent. What a start to a mission. We had no go but to continue as the exam had to be written.
We had to hit the Hosur Road to Salem via Krishnagiri and Dharmapuri At the Kalyan Nagar signal as we waited to turn right toward Old madras Road a tree at the corner blocked our view. We had to literally edge right out into the road to see if it was clear and barely missed a truck from the opposite side. “ These corners are accident spots either a tree or a car or a van is parked there to trouble others the b…..ds” swore my husband . I could see fumes from his ears. “relax.. relax”, I droned like our yoga teacher, “ be cool” At last we were on the road. Now for some peace. My younger daughter positioned the pillow to snooze when the lorry in front went over a dog that sprinted across. The lorry went merrily on its way while my husband veered away from the struggling dog and almost climbed onto the road divider. It took him a few minutes to normalize and soon all of us were again on the road. I took out my flask for that much needed tea. My dog lover daughters refused the chips, they were still reeling under the shock of the poor animal.
Finally, after five signal stops we reached KR Puram junction. By the time we took the road to Old madras road towards Silk board junction, we were literally crawling. Peak hour traffic. Everyone was headed towards Hosur or what? How come everyone heads in our direction asked my little one. I had no answer. In fact travelling by road to Kerala had become a headache. A few years ago there was hardly any traffic in the highway. I could ‘arramse’ get down and do ‘susu’ behind a tree or rock. But today it was out of the question. There wasn’t a moment without a vehicle passing by. The boredom of the bottle neck at the silk board junction was broken by beggars who knocked at your windows rudely. Bikes zigzagged across and one guy even brazenly asked us why he couldn’t hit our rear mirror as he whizzed past?!
It was a sea of cars at the Hosur road junction. I looked at my watch. It was 11 am .Four hours and still in Bangalore. In four hours we had reached Salem for break fast once upon a time. Sigh. My daughter had to write an exam. How would anyone in any life or death emergency cope in our Bangalore? Banglore is not locked it is deadlocked

But like the proverbial Mother bird I have to let you spread your wings and fly, nay soar....A word of warning though as u soar do not forget to look down and see the ground below ,for the further u rise, the higher u climb, remember if u crash, (God forbid) the pain and hurt will be intensified. But I am sure my girls are properly grounded and will never forget the values that I have taught them. Of course u never liked it much if I preached as u called it and heart to heart as I called it! I am sure u used to switch off.... disconnect...when I started! But now in ur homes u might be remembering ‘dear moms lectures’. When u become moms urselves u will need all these lectures too, to bond with ur children. Yes, u have guesed it ,Mom is about to lecture again.!One last time bachas before it is too late.

Be kind and compasionate , of course u are, remember the strays and the pups in the area were looked after by u two but do continue the good work in other little ways..
Look after the needs of ur inlaws..take them for a walk or sit and just talk to her even though u r rushed for time.Or if they r not with u call up once in a while.Respest them. Remember it is their son u love.
Just because u r earning in dollars dont be proud or a show off.. Sonu ,u have a habit of showing off, don’t be a bore.
Always remember u r an indian even though compared to india, ur quality of life is much better thanks to better management and infrastructure. At the same time do not put down the country ,(Som u should control ur tongue) that is providing u with ur bread and butter and cheese and wine and beer...
Also, do not fight with each other, u used to when u were young and kids but now there is no need to ,of course sisters do fight but do not make it serious .No hurting each other so bad that u hurt inside.Sisters are special and bonded for life.
Make dad proud of u as always . I still remember how u, Sonu rushed to him with ur report card and waited for that pat on the back. It used to make ur day.
And ur children ...no first u have them....
And lastly do not forget my gifts on mother’s day and birthday!!!!! Love u da always and forever.My children the bestest! My lifetime achievement.

Whenever he came home there was a hush, a lull in the activities.
Everyone in the family would be at his beck and call and why not, since he was a bada aadmi… a busy, benevolent , cultured and socially active man. They paid obeisance to him and considered themselves privileged to be within his periphery.

Salma loved to see the turbulence he created in her Ammi. She would be in a dither and absolutely lost till a look from him would shush her, calm her and quieten her. Salma’s brothers also would hang onto his every word and follow all his orders. She, being a girl wasn’t allowed near him . But being ziddi, Salma had once tried to sit on his lap but was rudely pushed down first by him and then by her Ammi.

She sulked for a week but no one cared. Being a child she soon forgot the ticking off. To tell the truth his once a month homecoming was a change from the humdrum of daily chores. The revelry and the feast that were a part of his homecoming was looked forward to by the entire Mohalla.

The years sped. Salma grew from a lanky, pigtailed, bedraggled girl to a comely maiden all sensuous curves and long limbs. Her best feature were her eyes and at thirteen she realized that she hated the burkha. Maybe it was the English medium school that made her shun silly norms and customs. But being a girl she dared not say a word. Except with her like minded friends.

One day back early from school, she flung the burkha and her satchel when she realized no one was home and put up her legs and dozed off. When she woke it was in a rush. Someone was standing and gazing at her disheveled state. She put a hand to her mouth , grabbed her burkha and fled to her room. Oh, my goodness what would he think? She was sure her Ammi would be chastened. She waited for the axe to fall.

But nothing happened. Instead he came to her room at night. Quietly, like a thief. He shushed her, kissed her terrified doelike eye and sat her on his lap. The lap that had been taboo to her because she was a girl a few years back. And then he caressed her body. Now she knew where and why he had been gazing at her in her sprawled state. She was too shocked to do a thing, and his warning hand that seemed to calm her was actually a warning to be quiet.

It became a habit. Now his homecoming was three times a month and always he would come to her. In the dead of night. His panting, heaving body and greedy hands would be all over her. Salma didn’t know if she loved it or hated it. Sometimes she felt good, it was like a seduction, he gave her clothes and jewellery but she dared not wear them. What would her Ammi say? Then she hated him .

She became morose and dull. Her Ammi was worried, so were her friends but she couldn’t tell anyone. His hard hand which would clamp down the moment she fidgeted or tried to stop him when he hurt her was threatening. Also, who would listen to her? He was too well loved and saintly .

One of the girls in school became pregnant. Salma’s friend whispered about how these things happened. Salma was petrified .Ya Allah, would she also be pregnant? But he had not yet penetrated her. He was wicked, he wouldn’t do that and let the world know his black deeds but for how long? Salma could feel his impatience and his need to fully satisfy himself. And one day he would ..then what . She broke down and confided to her best friend. Radhika. To say she was scandalized was an understatement. In fact she didn’t believe it. Until Salma showed her the bruises.

The friends sat and plotted. But what and how? Nowadays he had become more obsessed and his homecoming had become more frequent. Last night he had whispered frenziedly in her ears that he was going to take her away with him so that he could be near her always, away from probing eyes and wagging tongues. That meant he did not care at all about Ammi. He was ready to dump her. Salma felt a black hatred welling up in her. Her mind worked . She remembered something….

He was declared dead the next day.The whole mohalla gathered for condolence and mourning. Such a good man, Allah had called him early. Must be a heart attack … they said .Her Ammi wailed , so did her brothers and relatives. Salma’s eyes were dry.
He was given a grand burial. Such a benevolent, cultured person, they said.

Radhika was jubilant when she met Salma at school after the customary mourning was over.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she said. “Before he raped you, God has killed him”

Salma was silent. Why should she tell anyone that she had fed peanut chutney lovingly to her dear Abba when he had stealthily come to her room in the dead of night, like the cad that he was to for perverse pleasures? Why should she tell anyone that he was allergic to peanuts? Her Ammi had told her that once. In fact her Ammi had told her that the day he had died too. Just a casual remark but Salma felt that maybe her Ammi knew…..

Anyway, quite recently she had at last begun to show signs of old age. She had even been hospitalised and I had not been surprised to know that she had gone round poking all the other patients awake at 4 O’clock! My father, her son had flown to meet her from Delhi and firmly forbidden her to undertake any strenuous work and to take complete rest. He had ordered Kumari, a harijan to be her nursemaid and look after all her needs. He had promised to buy Kumari a gold chain when he came home for the summer holidays in return for her service to his mother.

And so it happened that during our vacations, I met Kumari. Of course in due course of time she had become the kitchen maid cum nurse. Grandmother, recovered and hale and hearty had made Kumari a girl Friday. In farmhouses in Kerala, workload is mind boggling. There were cattle to be fed, their cow sheds to be cleaned, their mangers to be filled with clean hay, milk to be milked and sent in time to local tea shops. Cooking also was not easy. Members were many. Dad’s brothers and sisters and their families came over to meet grandmother and spend some time with her during holidays. So masalas were ground in large grinding stones, vegetables were chopped and cooked in large vessels. And in this mad rush it was always Kumari, Kumari.

In the afternoons, when she got a little time, she would come running to me, wiping her work ridden hands on her long skirt. “saumya kutti” (little saumya) she would call me and sit down to learn the alphabets. She loved to study. When I asked her why she had not finished school, she would look sad. She had to leave school after class five.

“How could I continue? Who will earn for my family?,” she would say but she would forget her worries immediately and finger my ear –rings and gold chain longingly.

“Your mother has beautiful jewelery,” she would say. She was extremely fond of my mother and admired her a lot. She also loved gold. But then, I have noticed that in Kerala the women were greedy for gold, whether it were my Aunts or cousins, or the farm hands. They all had one thing in common. Greed for gold. She would remind me every day of the gold chain my Father had promised to give her. And when she got that gold chain and matching ear-rings she was on top of the world. She finished all her work in time that day and danced happily over the farm. In the afternoon as usual she came over to me for her daily lessons. Her small ears shone and her neck was adorned with the chain. She had even worn a new dress for the occasion. Her long hair was combed neatly and plaited. Her eyes were lined with kajal and she looked radiant.

As she chanted her alphabets, I realized that she had a very sharp memory and learnt fast. If only she would go to school. But no,her parents, drunken Kombi and farm laborer Chata wanted only money. They had three elder girls to be married off. Kombi was a dark, wiry man with a handlebar mustache. He would always be drunk. At night drunken brawls could be heard from his hut nearby. In the morning he would be sober…. Till night.

Kumari was petrified of her Father and one morning when she came to work her ears and neck were bare. My Achema (Aunt) asked her the matter. She sobbed heart brokenly.To my shame I found myself howling along with her. Her sobs broke by heart. What had happened did not shock either my Aunts and cousins or even my parents. But I could not believe it. Her father in one of his drunken fits, had ordered her to hand over the jewelery to him. And she had. He had said it would be given to her sister on her wedding. But I knew it was untrue. Kombi would pawn it off for his liquor. Horrible, horrible Kombi.

For two days Kumari did not come for work. My father had scolded Kombi for his disgusting behavior but the miserable fellow just smiled in a stupor. I felt like bashing him up. Useless,worthless creature. If he could not earn money to look after his children why had he become a father? My father wasn’t like that. I suddenly hugged my father. He was great.

On the third day poor Kumari came. Gone was her carefree, childish laughter and dancing feet. Her sparkling eyes no longer glowed. She missed her gold. I called her over to our study and tried to cheer up.

I asked her for the umpteenth time to rejoin school. “My mother says a girl’s real Jewelery is her education. If you study well you get a good job later. Then you can make as much jewelery as you please”. I cried. Kumari looked up from the alphabet book.

“Your life is different from ours” she mumbled. “My father…..” she sobbed again. I was quiet. I knew that fifteen year old Kumari rushed from Grandmother’s house to the fields so that apart from her salary at our place she could collect the daily wages allotted to the farm hands too. And after all the sweat and toil what happened? Her well deserved reward was snatched away by her drunken father.

I decided to speak to my father about it. He was surprised when I blamed everybody for Kumari’s plight. “You are not helpless. You call that Kombi and force him to allow her to continue school. It is not necessary that the children earn money for a father to squander on drinks. I will call the police to arrest him!”

My mother also supported me and surprisingly so did grandmother.

The end result was Kumari started going to school. Of course she came at the break of dawn to Grandmother’s house, finished all her chores and was at the school gates exactly at 8’O’ clock when the first bell rang. When we left for Delhi the laughter was back in Kumari’s eyes and though she wept as I waved good bye, I glimpsed courage in her eyes.

Now, seven years later, returning to Kerala ,I suddenly wondered what had happened to Kumari. My early letters and replies from Aunt had carried lengthy details about Kumari. Then life and its problems had taken over. Kumari had become but a memory.

Grandmother, a ripe 90 years was reclining in her regular armchair. The large rambling house welcomed us as usual. I noticed that an old lady was at the kitchen with her daughter. Another Kumari?

Suddenly I asked “Achema where is Kumari?” “Oh Kumari, is working at the bank as a typist. Didn’t I write to you? She is a great girl now.”

Kumari, a typist at the bank? I felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through me.

“And Kombi?”

“Oh’ he is still the same. Many times he tried to dissuade Kumari but she can be very adamant. She was a good student too. Hardworking”.
Achema briskly served me idlis and rushed off. I felt overjoyed to know that Kumari had excelled herself.
In the evening when I heard somebody wanted to meet me, I did not expect it to be Kumari. Neither did I recognize her immediately.

Gone was the Kumari of long plaits and dirty long skirts. Here stood a neat young lady in a sari, hair tied back in a bun and a dimunitive smile which broke into excited laughter when she saw me.

I stared unbelievingly when she said “Saumya Kutti”, I gasped and rushed to her. She clasped my hand tightly and her eyes filled with tears. And unashamedly I also wept. My father reclining in the easy chair cleared his throat.

“Well done Kumari, I am proud of you” he said,
“ and this time don’t give your jewelery to Kombi to waste on drinks”.
Sure enough her ears and neck were no longer bare. Gold sparkled there, but when she showed me- her pre-degree certificate and called it her true jewelery – I knew my Mother’s guidance had always been for the best.