தமிழ் கதை விகாசம் Translated in English
தமிழ் கதை விகாசம்
Translated in English
Sundaram Ramaswamy
30 May 1931 to 15 October 2005
Awards: Kumaran Asan Memorial Award in 1988, the Iyal Award from The Tamil Literary Garden in 2001 and the Katha Chudamani Award in 2004
Progress
Mother was lying on the bed. I was lying on the floor close to the bed. Mom and I had made it a habit to wake up late. We had earned this right after a little bit of struggle. The family has been keeping the dharma of bathing before sunrise for centuries. But both of us are patients, Amma of Asthma and I of arthritis. Mornings are difficult for both these ailments.
The hooting and ringing of the horse bells could be heard. The cart has been yoked. It indicates that father has taken the shop key in his hand and the needle of the clock must be on 8.30. Next wearing his slippers - the sound of kirach, kirach... After climbing down the stairs chatak, patak.... opening the umbrella with a jerk and then closing it. Well, that's the umbrella's daily health check.
The door opened slightly. The sunlight that flowed through the gap formed like a glass tube and rose up. Dust swirls in the pillar of light. Oh ! Father... the spectacles... what is seen from here is just one eye... and the tilak of sandalwood paste... the vermilion mark on top of it.
"Hey Ambi, wake up!' Father called from there. I closed my eyes. I lay motionless, as if in a deep slumber.
Amma said, 'Get up fatso! Father is calling you.'
From the corner of my eye I saw my father’s face. It was gentle and loving. I opened my eyes as if breaking out of a deep sleep. "Hey, take a bath, eat and go to ‘Aanaippaalam’ (the elephant bridge)," said father.
'Go and get Ravuttar and come straight to the shop. I'll send the vehicle for you. Understand?'
I looked at my father's face and mother's face alternately. I had told my mother about the confrontation between Ravuttar and father at the shop the day before.
‘Can you manage without him or not? This show of removing him and taking him back has been going on for so many years now.’
Father's face grew red. It appeared that if it turned redder, blood drops would trickle down the tip of the nose.
"Onam is coming... you come to the shop and prepare the bills" said my father. The slurred words came through the twisted lips as his anger peaked.
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