'' Fond memories of my child hood ''[ 8 ]

‘’  Fond memories of my child hood ‘’[ 8 ]

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Again my eldest sister started screaming during her sleep at night.My brother told me that the brahman used to come to her in dreams and frightening her.

One day pottanammachen came home with a big bundle of flowers,,camphor,agarbatti,and certain other things.The astrologer and the priest came home afterwards.They arranged the central hall for the

Puja. They made my sister sit in front of the homakunda[ fireplace]and started chanting  mantras and offering flowers ,and ghee to the fire.After the pooja she was asked to stay in the temple nearby, day and night for a few days.My mum accompanied her for the stay.Every evening one of the constables named Kesavapilla used to take me and brother to the temple to see mum,. 

after the Pooja he used to take us back.The  road was full of ditches and there were no street lights; only  kerosine lamps, here and there and in its dim light

the road was almost in darkness.So Kesava pilla used to hold my brother’s

hand and carry me on his shoulders.One day on the way back we saw a bushy

shrub full of fireflies glittering like anything. It is still live in my  memory the beauty of    

the fire flies glittering in the bushy tree in darkness.Then we wanted some of them to take home .Kesavapilla was very loving to us children and he caught three or four of them put it in a matchbox and gave us.We were anxious to reach home and to open the matchbox and to see them glittering. When we opened the box one out of the four is not glittering and moving…an other one is very slowly glittering…but not moving.Then my brother told me that one is dead and the other one is dying.Those were mine..the dead and the dying.I started crying....

 I wanted to go back and catch some more flies.Then my grandma made me sit on her lap …patted on my back lovingly and said that it’s mother in its nest

will  be crying to see its baby.When she knew that it’s baby is dead …poor thing 

she will cry …cry  and die of sorrow.They  have a small house called nest,and inside it

a mummy dad brothers and sisters as you have.If we miss one among us won’t

we feel sorry?Like that they will feel sorry.So don’t hurt the small insects, ,don’t catch them up,,….they are helpless we have to help them’’.Then I started

to cry again that I wanted to go to her nest ….see her mother and pacify her.Some how my grandma pacified me.Even now at this age of 79, whenever I see a firefly I remember my grandma’s words  ‘’Don’t hurt small insects.’’

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’