RIP Mohammed mama...
a memory which is more than sixty years comes back.. I was just a child of one and half years.. born at Kottakkal in a predominantly Muslim and non brahmin area..and having not much of exposure to Iyers and their ways till then..My constant companion in my infancy was a mohammed mama..Our family migrated to nearby places like Tirur and Parappanangadi. and still he was with us. I never found anything queer in having a Mohammed mama with us at that time, and even now I cannot find anything amiss..
He is now dead and gone. He was sort of assistant to my father and he used to occupy the front of our house when there was no other work..
Once I remember, I was venturing out of the house
-- it must be in Thrikkandiyur, Tirur--
a small boy of one-and half years, and fell down and hit my lower jaw on a sharp stone and there was a free flow of blood.. No doctor nearby and the gash needed stitches. Mohammed mama saw me fall and get wounded, and he would not even wait to warn my mother about it.. my father had gone out on some work..Mohammed mama simply ran carrying me to the dispensary four miles away, and got the wound mended.. Doctor's fee was not an issue because the latter was known to my father..
But Mohammed mama had ruined the only white shirt, that is his sole possession to give him the semblance of modern man.. the entire shirt was soaked in blood..
Of course, my father gave him a blue shirt in place of that white shirt and I have seen him wearing that every day afterwards..
That deep wound scar is seen in my lower jaw to this day..
At our house whenever food was cooked those days, one member who was included was Mohammed Mama. This is in spite of the fact that our parents were orthodox to the core.. Poojas, Japams... Ganapathi homam and what not..
But Mohammed mama was always there..
Subsequently, we migrated to Palakkad and Mohammed mama could not come with us because of his personal commitments..
When the news was received that he had passed away a few years later, I know I have cried as if a close relative, an uncle, and a benefactor has left the scene..
RIP Mohammed mama...
He is now dead and gone. He was sort of assistant to my father and he used to occupy the front of our house when there was no other work..
Once I remember, I was venturing out of the house
-- it must be in Thrikkandiyur, Tirur--
a small boy of one-and half years, and fell down and hit my lower jaw on a sharp stone and there was a free flow of blood.. No doctor nearby and the gash needed stitches. Mohammed mama saw me fall and get wounded, and he would not even wait to warn my mother about it.. my father had gone out on some work..Mohammed mama simply ran carrying me to the dispensary four miles away, and got the wound mended.. Doctor's fee was not an issue because the latter was known to my father..
But Mohammed mama had ruined the only white shirt, that is his sole possession to give him the semblance of modern man.. the entire shirt was soaked in blood..
Of course, my father gave him a blue shirt in place of that white shirt and I have seen him wearing that every day afterwards..
That deep wound scar is seen in my lower jaw to this day..
At our house whenever food was cooked those days, one member who was included was Mohammed Mama. This is in spite of the fact that our parents were orthodox to the core.. Poojas, Japams... Ganapathi homam and what not..
But Mohammed mama was always there..
Subsequently, we migrated to Palakkad and Mohammed mama could not come with us because of his personal commitments..
When the news was received that he had passed away a few years later, I know I have cried as if a close relative, an uncle, and a benefactor has left the scene..
RIP Mohammed mama...
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