THE SUN HAS SET... BUT, BY THE SHADOW OF THE STARS, THEY WILL FIND THEIR WAY

If you do not know where Mangalapuram is, let me help you: it’s Mangalore, now called Mangaluru… Magala Uru, which, in Kannada means ‘Daughter’s place’. Anyway, friends from Kerala, always, called it - and they continue to call it - as ‘Mangalapuram’. We are immediate neighbours… a lot of spill-over! Mangalore is so full of Keralites… They run so many businesses - from hotels to recruitment agencies… They work in every sphere – in hospitals as doctors, nurses and technicians… in offices as mangers and clerks… in schools and colleges as students and teachers. St. Aloysius College, where I studied, had hundreds of Malayalee students and scores of teachers, both in school and college. They belonged to all communities – Hindu, Muslim and Christian. But, the amazing thing about them was: they spoke only one language – Malayalam. The language bound them so much, that their religious affiliation dissolved when it came to observing festivals like Onam, Eid and Christmas. It’s a lovely culture, and, I do not think it prevails in any other state across our country…

Kerala is a small state. Her people were poor; but, they toiled very hard to learn as well as learn. So, along with high literacy rate, there was this drive to lead a life of high economic-standard. When the Gulf-boom stared, Malayalees were the first to make the most of it… They did not mind breaking their backs in the camel-land to save their Riyals and Dinars and bring them home… They built houses with that money – many of them - including mansions… They still do.

At the end of first week of November 2016, my wife and I had been to Wayanad on a holiday. Calicut (Kozhikode) is the nearest airport to Wayanad. We had booked an Air India flight which was Sharjah-Calicut. We had boarded in Mumbai. After the plane landed in Calicut, we stood to collect our baggage… A rude shock was awaiting… Almost every Malayalee passenger, who had travelled from Sharjah, was filling a form and we did not know what it was all about. When our bags did not appear, we were politely told, that they would be delivered to our respective places the next day! Our first reaction was panic, mixed with shock and anger. But, not a soul around us was agitated… They simply, peacefully and gladly filled the form… It took for us some time to digest the reality, that it was a routine thing for the flyers from Gulf… They brought so much – from there  - yes, from a broom, mat to Macintosh… that, the airline had a real job in hand!

Our concern was, that we only had our cabin handbags and we had to wait for two full days to get our baggage. The patience, peace and grace of the Malayalees were contagious… and, it rubbed on us, too. My wife and I started enjoying the lightness… and, for the first two days, we managed with the bare minimum that we possessed!

The bags were delivered to our room the next night at 10… It was a routine thing, the delivery person told us…

A Malayalee had loads of patience!

The place we had booked in Wayanad was called ‘Green Peace’ at Kalpetta. It’s run by a young Muslim man, like a home stay. His wife made some heavenly dishes and treated us like Gods… The day before we were to leave this place, the Notebandi was announced… It was late in the night; we had booked a taxi to go to Coorg the next day early in the morning. We had carried cash of banned denomination. The gentleman was so large-hearted, that he saw to it that we reached Coorg without any hassle.

Wayanad is one of the many worst-affected places in the present crisis in Kerala. I remembered this gentlman and his wonderful family and called him, this morning, to check if all was okay at their end. He told me, that the building they were living had developed major cracks and they had moved to a safer place… I was relieved. A silent prayer was the only thing I could offer to them!

The Notebandhi had come unannounced. The people accorss the country showed tremendous amount of patience and grace in dealing with its consequences… And, even after almost two years, many, who have lost their livelihood, are hopeful, that they will bounce back!

Now, the state of Kerala – God’s own Country – needs our help the most…  Every kind of help that is. The houses, which her people built with decades of toil in the Gulf are washed away… Thousands of crores have gone in the merciless deluge and landslides… Hundreds are missing, scores have died and lakhs are stranded… There is no roof over their heads, no clothes to wear, no food to eat and no clean water to drink… Electricity and communication are gone… and even snakes, which have been made homeless by the deluge, have come to live where helpless Malayalees have been camping… Sickness, snakebites and sorrow!

I wonder, as I write this: Will Kerala and her earnest, hardworking people bounce back? Will the houses be rebuilt, the schools be reopened, the families be reunited, the Temples, Dhargas and Churches be back on their feet?

I have no doubt… They will!

Yes, we need to rally behind the people of Kerala… with every possible help. Empathy is the most precious help… with that flows money, material, men and morale. Yes, yes, yes… with empathy, we will, also, go on our knees and pray… “Lord, have mercy!”

Time is the best healer, they say. We may have to wait… with the patience and grace of a never-say-die Malayalee, whose land is God own!

Last evening, our former PM, Mr. Atal Bihari Vajpayee passed way. A few political leaders will ever receive the kind of rich-and-honest tribute he is now receiving from every corner of our land and abroad. He was a poet at heart and that set him apart from the rest. Shashi Tharoor, the famous Malayalee, has written a touching tribute for Ataljee in today’s ‘Hindustan Times’. He recalls the sublime words Ataljee had used in his own tribute when Mr. Nehru had passed away…  “The sun has set; yet, by the shadow of the stars, we must find our way.”

What a poetic truth!

May Kerala and her battered sons and daughters find the way by the shadow of the stars…

They ‘will’ bounce back, however broken they seem to be!

GERALD D’CUNHA

Pic.:Native Planet/Idukki Dam