Professor stands, holding the chalk piece raised to the board.
Losing its wing, his shirt sleeve fell down.
Sorry, Gentlemen! His other hand, extended up to button
the cuff also loses the cover of the sleeve!
He forgot to button the cuffs! The students laugh at
the Professor who is searching for cuff buttons
lost somewhere in his memories. Forget it, Gentlemen!
What were we discussing?
Indeed, the snail and tortoise are shell creatures.
The penance of achievement of acceleration, which began from the
journey of a snail ... .
The ideas cherished by the words, were sunk somewhere. Professor is
searching among the scrapes of an accident. He sneezes while eating.
The dreams amassed by him are lost for ever. The professor was
coughing, clearing his throat. Eyes overflowing with tears.
Patting himself on the head,
trying to control himself. The servant boy sympathised:
Take care!
The professor looked at the servant,
with an annoyed discomfort of his childhood.
Appukuttan, you are not my mother! And I am not your cry baby.
Mother asked:
Vasutta, what are you upto?
The son said:
Nothing.
Mother began to cry:
I want you to marry ... .
The servant left. No problem. He can prepare
two slices of bread and milk. You don't need a servant to put
oats in the boiling milk kept on the hot plate. But there is no
one to wake you up and make you get ready at the proper time.
Is the meaning of life single or double?
Professor is lost in the memory of a joke.
Tell me, it is in which hand?
But, not in this one!
See, there is nothing inside!
Inside her little palm, is it single or double?
She, Kali. His opponents call him pestle, since he
plays the game of Single and Double with Kali. When she
could understand the meaning of the symbol of pestle, the girl
named Kali stopped playing with Vasu. A pestle has a band and a ring.
Vasu plays with Kali and Kali goes with a ring and thus Vasu became
a pestle! When the professor was sinking in the depths of his memory,
searching for Kali, the boy enters:
Hot water for shaving.
He went away.
The alarm clock forgot to remind him about the Muhurtam.
If it had struck, he could have got up and stood facing the West.
Guruvayurappa! (5)
Your Panchajanyam , (6) devoid of its booming sound,
is doing penance on my table. On the blunt thorns of this dead body,
the rays of a dead star extinguish. Is this Vasudev's heart?
The top unwinding from its thread, loses its orbit in the
twists of the conch. Is it Vasudev's mind? Professor sat down,
his mind losing the track. He took the conch. He cannot blow it.
My sound and its reverberations,
to wake up
Whom?
Rema!
Tell me, Dev, I am listening.
A little boy wearing trousers, without buttons.
He is called Vasu. He plays with Ammini,
the daughter of the horseman Nottan, sitting in front of
her with his legs spread apart, his hands
kept on the top of the sand heap. Then he searched for Pootharulli (7)
inside the sand heap. Even though he knew where he hid it,
his fingers touched her groin.
chekka!
Even though the horseman's daughter berated, the boy
gaped like an idiot.
Hey, I am taking my time out. I got tickled a lot!
Rema!
I am listening. I do not have any time out for this entire night..
Selling the horse, father bought a car. The horseman is dead. You know
Rema, what happened to Ammini, the horseman's daughter?
Do I know?
She is selling illicit liquor,
keeping able bodied men as guards. Still, no one dares to marry her!
Not needed!
Shall I marry her?
What for?
With childlike curiosity, the boy is watching the
hen incubating over her eggs. You little girl, Your babies.
One is Mani, the other is Kini. Mani and Kini are my babies.
Then you tell me, I do not know, from where they came?
But he cannot go anywhere near her! The hen fumed and
hissed, spreading her wings. The mother is angry.
Vasutty, what are you doing with the hen?
What was it Rema?
Are you not ashamed to say this?
Rema, have you read Nat Turner? The prophet
who lusted the dove. Losing celibacy, the strength of
his penance was destroyed. In the boldness of candor which
bares open the animal inside you, the masks of false gods ... .
Rema, are you asleep?
Mother asked: Vasutta, did you promise anyone?
Whom, mother?
That girl talked a lot about you!
Mother, who doesn't talk a lot?
But Vasudev was always faithful. The Warden of the Ladies Hostel
wants Vasudev. Right now, at this late hour, this very moment.
Rema's mother expired. Don't say anything. Just accompany the girl.
What was ailing Rema's mother to cremate her in such a haste?
In spite of being a research scholar, the daughter does not say anything
about her mother's cancer of uterus.
Rema, I am an idiot.
What is this, Dev?
My Panchajanyam is dirty, announcing all secrets.
Sumathy teacher says for a joke: Sex and love is common for
all animals. I can send my daughter with anyone who loves her.
He will protect her like a faithful dog.
He will not touch her. He will not let any one touch her.
Vasudev asked:
Does your daughter stink?
Professor retorted:
There is no love affair which does not stink.
When the teacher and student confronted each other, Rema sat
crying; the ungrateful thorns, singling out the symptoms of
mother's disease. The memories of a crime can not be erased
just like that. The memories are not sand grains. The cancer
which the daughter earned from her mother cannot be covered up by the
shell of a creature, dead long ago.
Rema!
Tell me.
Let us continue like this only.
How?
Like this same way.
I do not want to argue with you.
The life is wasted in the torn sack of celibacy.
The yaga is spoiled with inverted mantras. No marriage,
love will do. No law and order, murder will do ... .
But who is killed? This mind,the horse ...
where is the horseman, Nottan?
Where is your daughter?
But Professor Vasudev, Head of the Department of Zoology,
Gentleman, Respected person in the contemporary society-
Who are you?
A blue sea of roaring waves, draped in a saree
waded in glowing coloureds gushed through the push door.
Professor Vasudev got drenched in sweat.
Rema beams like monsoon.
Vasudev got drenched in the beaming waves of the waterfall.
Vasudev lost his balance. Grasping unknowingly at last the hands extended by
her like rain clouds shredding the last drops
I thought I will come personally. Do We need a postbox?
Don't you have work today?
I took leave. What are you writing, Dev? Notes?
This is my ... .
I do not need law and order. Murder will do. I do not want marriage.
Sit down Rema. You do not have even a single white hair. I do not look
at the mirror at all.
How does the wedding card look? Please do come-
Vasudev can't get a hold. Vasudev sinks, but he sweats.
Professor Rema had other matters to think about.
We shall fly the next day. He is in Vienna. There he
has a fellowship in Genetics. You must meet him. I told him
everything. He knows what to do. There you have
all the facilities for treatment. He understands.
Sterility and Heredity are old concepts in the age of test tube baby!
Perhaps…
While the cheerfulness of the sea waves gushed away through the push
door, Professor Vasudev felt like calling aloud: You Nottan!
But there are students around! Outside, Professor
Rema's car engine, powered by six pistons, is roaring louder than him.
Above everything, Professor Vasudev called out:
Nottan!!
In the infinity of space and time, the meager
life goes on till the oil lasts. Man, who reached the
orbital paths of infinities starting from the slow pace of snail,
achieving acceleration The Professor falls down, struck by the
weight of a paperweight. He thinks:
How many thorns does this heart have?
How many twists?
In spite of loathing it, he touched the Invitation Letter.
He took it and read it.
The Muhurtam is over.
In the holy premises of Guruvayurappan,
the first Guru of the Science of Metamorphosis, with the holy fire as
witness, with the music of Nadaswaram (8) as witness, with the priest,
his assistants and crowd as witness, with the queues waiting for the
deliverance of a cup of coffee in front of hotels as witness,
for saving my soul from the Hell of Puth (9) , for my son who is myself,
seeking rebirth throgh this girl, imam kanyam sweekaromi
(10).
Vasudev can not act as a witness. This is
deceit. This Rema who once wiped off the stir of life ... .
The doctor said:
Impossible. Do you want to die as a young mother or do you
want to live longer?
But Professor Vasudev, let your grey head speak, who is the deceiver?
Me?
Muhurtam !
Homing.
Garden Dinner.
Is there an equivalent word for Muhurtam in Vienna?
But a marriage does not break up on the altar.
Meet Professor Vasudev. My sweet...
Number Seventeen! (11)
Wish you a Happy ...
Professor sat pressing his fingers on the
blunted thorns of the conch. These thorns do not prick.
Why should this skeleton, which has forgotten the
call of a union, fear an enemy? But, that day ...,
Two of us, on the seashore.
This engraving, becoming my heartbeat, becoming my blood, becoming me,
becoming us, weaving together ... - the dreams of those days.
Is it to your liking?
Who will write?
There are so many around who can write.
At the back of mind, the sound of alarm clock strikes.
Becoming a piercing needle of a sewing machine,
becoming many needles in the continuity of motion,
becoming restless, Professor got up.
The homing goes on. He can not reach Ramanattukara.
Garden dinner, on the beach, in the roof garden.
He can reach Calicut.
Speed, the essence of life, extinguishes space and time.
But the sound and harmony of memories, the reverberation of melodies
once heard and forgotten, like a broken piece of a sugar candy, like sorrow-
Even you do not know whether you will come back or not!
For the first time, Professor felt depressed that there is no one
to whom he can bid farewell. One person- to leave after
bidding goodbye to one person at least ... . Doesn't matter!
Taking whose consent, this cattle came here for grazing?
Professor waved his hand when the Herald started.
Ta, ta.
Till the petrol lasts.
He hesitated while leaving the house:
Did he lock the door?
Does it matter if you locked or not?
Vehicles after vehicles. They stop before reaching
the shade of infinity. But he can reach Calicut.
When his feet presses on the accelerator, the lost memoirs
encircles him. The mind says you have reached.
The biological caravan which reached man through the penance of
speed will not attain the speed of mind.
In the erroneous trajectories of orbital paths, in some
universal explosion, when this earth began its movement
in a fraction of a second-
The burnt sparks of truth
Sparks of particles
Particles of sparks
Again to the infinity of space and time-
The Professor felt sad during the entire journey that
he was unable to complete the thesis of metamorphosis of speed.
Like the ultimate speed when just before your death,
life becomes a completely insignificant momentary experience-
What is in store?
Becoming a fossilized memory, becoming a piece of bone
worthy of worship, becoming your banyan leaf,
He forgot to take the conch!
Professor pressed the brake. But the pedal sinks.
Along with the pedal, his toe sinks.
Hallucination?
On the black sands of the shore,
when both of us dissolve as white spots,
That day-
The students brought by one Sumathy Teacher
to estimate the age of the earth's crusts,
Then also zoology?
In the world without me,
why the earth, the sky, the sea, the seashore, zoology and my thesis?
Why?
He could not remember why.
The vehicle devoid of its brake, at the speed accelerating.
At the top speed, at a turning, the Professor did not see
' Ramanattukara '. At the speed that woke up to embrace the essence
of life, his wavering eyes did not linger on any one of the garlanded
vehicles rushing across him.
In the orbital path of the acceleration of speed,
in the deep embrace of an explosion:
Is it you?
Our conch?
Your banyan leaf?
Maya or illusion?