Disappointment

                   

“Krishna! Krishna! Mukunda! Janardana!
Krishna! Govinda! Narayana! Hare!

Achyuthananda ! Govinda! Madhava!
Sachidananda! Narayana! Hare !”

The loudspeaker was playing the prayer song from the Sri Krishna Temple.

Janaki teacher got up and looked at the time. It was five o'clock. Meenu should be home by seven-thirty. There was still a lot of time. She was tossing and turning. Then, out of habit, Achutha Marar  said, "Janu, are you awake too? Time doesn't move."

"Yes, Achuetta, didn't you say the children would arrive at nine o'clock?" The teacher cleared up the doubt.

"Well, we're lucky, Janu. Why, even though the children haven't come to the festival for a long time, this time both of them are coming."

"Okay, are we not going to the festival every time?"

Then, recalling the children's childhood quarrels, jokes, and laughter one by one, the time passed by until half past seven. Leaning on his stick, Marar and the teacher stood up, holding onto the wall and door. Thinking that the children should have the dishes they liked most with our own hands, the teacher said, "Meenu, just help me today. I'll do all the cooking."

Meenu laughed, "What a glow on both of your faces today. Both are ten years younger now!" The teacher, overcome with enthusiasm, forgot all about her illness and got to work. His dry, trembling hands began to move slowly. She first made the children's favourite Masala Dosa, Jackfruit Ada, and Uzhundu Vada.  After that, she started to make rice and curry. By then, Achutha Marar, after taking a bath, went to the gate four or five times, holding his stick, and came back. After a while, he came to the kitchen and said that the children had not arrived, even though it was half past nine. After sitting on the chair for a while, he went back to the gate. He came back ten or twelve times and finally said to the teacher, "It's past eleven. They haven't arrived yet! It's not like every time, they have assured me that they will definitely arrive this time."

"Sometimes the train may be late, Achuvetta," the teacher said, without showing her tension.

After preparing the food, the teacher also went to the garden with him. At this time, Meenu came to them and said, "All the work is done. I closed the pan when it got a little warm. Let me go home, teacher. Children had come from school and were waiting for me there, and we had to take them to the temple. "

When they couldn't stand any longer, Achutha Marar and the teacher sat down on the verandah steps. At twelve o'clock, the morning session of Chenda melam at temple was coming to an end. The stomachs of the two people, exhausted and hungry, were growling. At this time, Marar asked, "Janu, have you eaten anything?"

"I drank a glass of tea. Let's eat together when the children arrive. It's been a long time since we've eaten together. Oh, did Achuvettan eat anything?"

"I also had a glass of tea. I thought they might have arrived by now. It seems the children won't be home by the noon. Is there some kind of block in the area?"

Achutha Marar said while wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Even if there is a block, it's time to come. Is there something wrong with the kids? They said it is free from college. Gopan's child is always short of breath. He doesn't want to see the doctor here anyhow. My God, why punish us by waiting...!" the teacher said with a wave of her hand.

The clock on the verandah struck three as Meenu, accompanied by her children and grandchildren, returned from the temple after the kavadi attam dance play. They were chatting happily as they made their way down the steps. The children carried balloons and whistles, creating a lively atmosphere filled with laughter and play. When they reached the gate, Meenu, surprised and a bit worried, asked, "Janu edathi, haven't the children arrived yet?"

"No," replied the teacher.

To ease her concern, Meenu asked again, "Why don't you both come to the evening Pooram ? Your faces look quite pale. Haven't you eaten?"

"I thought I’d wait for the children to come," the teacher said hopefully.

"Oh! You two should go and eat quickly. You both have high sugar and high blood pressure!" Meenu urged. They watched until Meenu also disappeared. Both of them went inside and drank a glass of hot water each. When the phone rang, Marar answered it and spoke to the teacher in frustration. "Gopika  is busy and held up in the office today with the audit team," he explained. "Additionally, the children have exams coming up later this week, so their trip home will have to be postponed until next year."

 He sat in the armchair, sadness clearly visible on his face. Seeing this, the teacher said, "Gopan mentioned he would come anyway; he seemed so sure about it."

At five o'clock, the phone began to ring again. This time, Marar picked it up with anticipation. As soon as he set the receiver down, tears filled his eyes. In a stammering voice, he said, “It’s Gopan.” After a moment of hesitation, he continued, “He’s busy with work and couldn’t reach back from outstation work.  Since it’s the end of the year, he needs to finalise certain tax issues and accounts. He said he’ll come next year.”

When Meenu arrived to do her late afternoon chores, the door was open. As she peeked into the kitchen, she saw that the coffee, sweets, rice, and curries had all gone cold, as if they were sharing in their grief. When she entered the room, she found both of them lying down. The sadness within them boiled and flowed like lava through her sunken eyes. Upon seeing Meenu, the teacher spoke in a low, tired voice, “Meenu, how lucky you are. Carry out home  whatever food items required for children. You don’t have to work late tonight. Hurry up and take the kids to see the Pooram. Just come back tomorrow afternoon.”

Achutha Marar added, “Meenu, your life is blessed. Go quickly to your children. Don’t waste time. May all the colours combine to form a rainbow.”

Meenu couldn’t contain her sadness and left for home with tears in her eyes, unable to find the words to comfort the elderly couple.

“Krishna! Krishna! Mukunda! Janardana! 

Krishna! Govinda! Narayana! Hare!

Achyutananda! Govinda! Madhava! 

Sachidananda! Narayana! Hare !

The loudspeaker was playing the prayer song from the Sri Krishna Temple the next morning, as usual, but they didn’t notice or hear it.

🙏