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It was in 1988, house surgency time at Alleppey. Some experiences I had in our campus had made me restless. I had just scrapped through final year MBBS exams. I was not sure, whether medicine would be my vocation. The restlessness was making me uncomfortable. As Camus said “Life becoming a philosophical suicide” was so far away, yet near.
I found a way to overcome this.
It was to walk… walk… and walk in the evening after the house surgeon duties…
I called it “street shaving “… sort of a pilgrimage that was introspective, watchful, and a bit careless . There were crowds all around. Some smiled at me, some waved at me, and some ignored me. The reactions did not matter, for I was alone in the crowd. I was my own companion. Shadows around sought their meaning.
The walks used to start from a small room and then through the dusty roads of Alpy, sometimes passing the Mullackal temple. Anyway it usually stopped in front of the Prince hotel on Alleppey Ernakulam road.
There were days , when I did not do that.
One evening, the usual trail was drenched in monsoon rain. So too was me. Whenever the rain became heavy, I sought shelter on shop verandas. The rain was unrelenting but broken. So was my restlessness. Somehow I reached my destination. Then it was time to retrace my search for tranquility. I took the route back, reached YMCA. Talked to my friend who had a room there and dried my hair. Then on to the road and started my walk back. Because of the broken pilgrimage, it was past midnight. The moment I stepped out. Heavens opened. I was drenched again. By the time I reached Seematti theatre (not sure whether it is till there), I could not see the road well and could not walk further. As before I took shelter under the roof of a shop Veranda.
Everything was silent, but for the monsoon. Then I heard something. There was this rotund baggage of misery in the corner, moving, and talking. Suddenly a head protruded out. An old lady, a tramp. She started to abuse me. Then said ”നീ വേറെ എവിടെങ്കിലും പോയി കിടക്കാൻ സ്ഥലം നോക്ക് (You go and find space somewhere else to sleep)”
She thought । was like her, a beggar seeking refuge from unrelenting nature.
Searching for “space”.
It was her space I was invading.
I did not move and stood there and watched her in silence. In a few minutes she settled, coughed and continued to talk to herself. May be she was mentally unwell.
Suddenly she turned and looked at me. I saw a tired looking, elderly, emaciated face in the fading street light. Her eyes glittering. She said, “വേണേ ഇവിടെ കിടന്നോ (If you want you can sleep here)” and moved her tattered baggage to one side and gave me space.
She was ready to sacrifice her little space for an “unknown tramp”.
The deluge stopped for a few moments, but the drizzle continued.
I stepped onto the street and into the rain. Behind me the space that was created for me was becoming a blur.
That night I learnt something, life is about creating space and that can even be a little space of discontinuity…
Forgive typo