Every day is a new day

Raghu was a tailor in a small town in the Malenadu region of Karnataka. The farmers in the area around the town were his customers. Shambhu, a stout farmer who owned a few acres of fields and had a few cows, was one of them.  One day, Shambhu came to Raghu with a piece of fine cotton cloth. Shambhu said, "Raghu, next month I am going for a wedding. I want to look smart! I have brought cloth for a kurta (Indian - style jacket). Please stitch one for me. I will pick it up when I come to town again." Raghu took Shambhu's measurements and noted them in his book. He returned to stitching, and started work on the kurta after a few days. It was two weeks before Shambhu returned to collect his kurta. Raghu was astonished to see that the stout Shambhu had lost weight and become a little thin! When he tried the kurta, it was loose. Shambhu said, "The day I came to town, my favorite cow, my Gauri, got lost. Since then, neither I nor my wife have tasted milk, ghee or curd. I am ...

I spent my childhood in the historic city of Cochin in Kerala. The Arabs, the Portuguese, the Dutch and the British have used Cochin as a port for trading, and have left their imprint upon the city. A significant event in my own life also took place in Cochin.  It was compulsory for all students to learn Malayalam, unless one was studying in a Central School. Since my mother tongue is Marathi and not Malayalam, I would get butterflies in my stomach, every time the exams came near. I used to dread the Malayalam exam, as much as I dreaded a visit to the dentist! It was not the fault of my teacher, Miss Elizabeth. Miss Elizabeth was a dedicated teacher, and made sure each one of us understood our lessons. She would occasionally use the cane, but only as a last resort. It was not the fault of my parents. In fact, my mother learnt Malayalam, in order to help me and my younger sister learn the language. There was nothing wrong with my comprehension of the lessons. The stumbl...