Facts and Fiction, Ooty, P U Krishnan, Parents

Anxious Parents

It was a typical winter morning and I was on my way to the nearby milk booth to buy some milk in anticipation of a guest. A middle-aged man who was far behind me over took me and stopped for a while and asked an elderly person, “Did you see my daughter anywhere near the Bus stand?”
“Yeah, Yeah” the old man replied and after some hesitation he continued, “It seemed she was waiting for a bus…” Before he could finish his sentence, the middle-aged person dashed forwards the bus stand and the old man made some sarcastic comments in a hushed voice.
“What’s the matter?” I asked him and he said, “What else? That girl was not alone. There were some guys. One of them seemed to be very close to her. I did not hear what they were talking about but I could guess what they were upto… Could be a love affair. Her dad looked very upset and angry too…” Thus saying, the old man left the place.
Will they be caught red-handed?, I wondered. “It is none of your business… get going…”. I told myself and moved on. And, as I looked ahead, I saw that middle-aged chap, the father of that girl. He seemed to be in a relaxed mood but I could not keep quiet. “Did you find your daughter?” I asked. “Yeah, I reached there when the bus was about to start. She forgot to take the hall ticket… she is appearing for a public exam. Thank god… I saw it’s on her table..”
The other day, I happened to read an interview with a writer who was of the view that if one has a creative mind, one can provide flesh and blood to any small incident. I was just testing my ability! Of course, I did see a middle-aged chap who was in a hurry!

Author: P U Krishnan

First things first. I am one of those retired chaps who are young at heart. I watch cricket matches and jump for joy when Tendulkar scores yet another century. I read newspapers and books too, though I am not crazy about them. I think I have a mind free from hatred and I owe it to the wonders of nature and music. I scribble something now and then and call myself a writer! Though I have settled in Ooty, a lovely hill station in Tamil Nadu—I must emphasize the fact that I was born and brought up in Tellicherry in North Kerala and studied in the good old Government Brennen College. Of and on, my mind goes back to my ancestral house at Tiruvangad in Tellicherry in front of an ancient Sri Ram temple. I am indebted to this wonderful place which inculcated in me a love for cricket and literature. But all said and done, I am an Indian first.

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