When I was but a lad of 6 or 7, our driver, who was a trusted member of the family, was going on a week long trip to Malabar in a lorry that my father owned in those days. He was to head from Kottayam to Malabar, via Kannur. So it would be an overnight journey to get to Malabar, stay a few days there to unload and load whatever it was that he was transporting, and a similar journey back. The Estate was owned by my fathers brother, who was living in the US and consequently managed by my father.
My brother and I heard about this fantastic journey that was to take place. A journey through Kerala on a lorry. And he being 8 or 9, and being on holiday, we started to plead with the driver to take us with him. He ofcourse shrugged his shoulders and pointed us in the direction of my mother.
My mother ran the house and the kids and everything about our lives revolved around her. My father being busy with work, she and oftentimes my maternal grandmother, did most of the bringing up. But when there's 4 kids to bring up there's only so much looking after you can do and she had a laissez-faire attitude to child management, which we loved.
So we were not surprised when our mother gave us the nod. The journey was awesome, although I remember only patches of it now after 30 years. I remember sleeping on the bunk in the lorry. Driving at night. Stopping at a Dhaba for tea. Brushing my teeth in a stream by the road.
I recently spoke to our old comrade the driver and I am still astounded that our mother sent us kids off in a lorry to Malabar. But what an experience to have. What a memory to treasure.
My brother and I heard about this fantastic journey that was to take place. A journey through Kerala on a lorry. And he being 8 or 9, and being on holiday, we started to plead with the driver to take us with him. He ofcourse shrugged his shoulders and pointed us in the direction of my mother.
My mother ran the house and the kids and everything about our lives revolved around her. My father being busy with work, she and oftentimes my maternal grandmother, did most of the bringing up. But when there's 4 kids to bring up there's only so much looking after you can do and she had a laissez-faire attitude to child management, which we loved.
So we were not surprised when our mother gave us the nod. The journey was awesome, although I remember only patches of it now after 30 years. I remember sleeping on the bunk in the lorry. Driving at night. Stopping at a Dhaba for tea. Brushing my teeth in a stream by the road.
I recently spoke to our old comrade the driver and I am still astounded that our mother sent us kids off in a lorry to Malabar. But what an experience to have. What a memory to treasure.
