The Foot Marks

Another story from Rajan V Kokkuri:

 

I heard a beep from the mobile phone which was on my side table of bed. I was awake and

waiting for the alarm.

 ‘Papa, can you order these shoes?'  A message from my son Jay.

‘If we are buying one pair it costs Rs. 3900/-, we will get two pairs for Rs. 6800/-'

I replied. ‘Jay, why do you want to spend so much money on shoes?'

After a while, I sent a message ‘I will order 1 pair for Rs. 3900/.'

 ‘Ok. Papa Thanks.'

How things have changed? My childhood was totally different and never be compared with the present life of the younger generation.

My uncle was an old devotional person. He generally spends his time in the nearby temple. He used to wear chappals made from wood. Whenever he reached our home the sound of his chappals would be heard and everyone vacated the entrance of the house.

On the way back we could see the tribal women carrying wood packs from the forest close to our village.  We were walking barefoot and my toe hit a stone by mistake. 
‘Oh,  Mom,' 

It was a severe pain and it started slight bleeding. We had a stone pillar side of the village road. They heard me crying and came running to me. One of the women immediately collected a few green leaves and rushed to me. ‘show the leg, let me put on this juice, it will heal  fast.' 

Mom was trying to console me. Meanwhile, another woman came, ‘Shall we give you this one; try to wear it for time being.' 

One of the wood pack women gave me a pair of chappals which they made from wood skin and rope branch of trees. The path to the house had very sharp stones which could hurt us if we do not walk with care.

I looked up at her face remembered her. It was my habit to sit on a branch of mango tree

near the boundary fence of my house. These ladies used to pass through that way on the way to the forest. I used to throw mangoes at them for fun.

No one complained about me to anyone. 

The good mangoes they used to pick up from ground and take them along with them. 

I became shy seeing them and I was curious about what they would tell my Mummy.

They just smiled at me and proceeded with their forest trip.

Mummy helped me walk back to our house.  Next morning I found it difficult to walk.

I heard the sound of a Jeep. I heard Mom calling me ‘Dad is here'. It is so coincidental,  you

wanted  to see him and he is here today." 

My room was on the first floor of the house, I could oversee the entrance from my room window.

Dad had a bandage on the leg.

 ‘I have high diabetic and the wound is not getting healed.'

My dad was on Survey field duty for the last few months. ‘Let us go to Bangalore.’

Next day we reached Bangalore and took dad to the hospital and put under emergency

treatment.

My dad’s  supervisor, uncle Matthew arrived and from that time onwards it was a big relief for us.

‘Dr. Antony had checked Menon. He has to undergo surgery and need cosmetic plastic surgery to heal the wound." 
The surgery was essential to save his leg.

Mummy was uncontrollable hearing this news. We were consoling Mom. 

"But  Sir. How about money?We do not have enough money for surgery.'

‘Do not worry about money. Let us go ahead with the surgery."

Few months passed and dad started walking.

One day he called me nearby and told. ‘Son, give me your old chappals, it will be soft for me to wear. I can't wear new ones or one with rough edges.'

It must have been 1976 or so.  I used to return back from Technical Institute by afternoon and would wait till 4.30 pm to walk to my dad's office which was 3 Km from our home.

‘Whom would you like to see?' security asked me.

‘Menon,' I said. 

‘You mean Mechanic Menon sab.'

‘Ok, go inside.'

I used to go in and wait in Mathew sir cabin. ‘Menon. See who is here.'

Dad used to wear dark blue workshop dress. He came to me wiping his hand this had a lot of oil and dirt in his hand.

‘Dad. Can I get new shoes?'

‘I do not have money now. I will get it made for you through cobbler.'

Cobbler Michael used to get the office order of making shoes for mechanics.

We went to Cobbler‘s shop. 

‘Michael. This time you make a shoe for my son Instead for me.'

‘Ok. No problem.'

‘Your size and my size is the same, you can take the new one & I will use the old one.'

I went to Michael's shop the next day to tell him that the shoes were tight for me.

‘Dev. What happened?'

‘Shoes are a little tight, uncle.'

‘Ok. Let me see.'

‘Dev. You have a great father.'

‘Why uncle?' ‘What made you say that?'

‘Do you know, he wears your old shoes & gets a new pair for you.'

‘It is not that he does not want to wear a new one or can't wear a new one as he told you.'

Michael's words left me speechless.

After reaching home mum asked.

‘Dev. What happened? Your face looks dull.'

‘Nothing mom.'

‘I think, there is something.'

‘Mom, dad gets my new shoes from his office, and he purposely wears old one.'

‘Dad is so nice mom.'

My words were so touching that mom's eyes filled with tears.

I remembered my dad's affection during those tough days of our life.

What changes have taken place as time changed? My son sends me a cool  WhatsApp message to order shoes of his choice without checking with me whether I have money.