ഒരു പിറവിയുടെ കഥ

ഓശാന തിരുനാളിന്റെ തിരക്കുകളെല്ലാം കഴിഞ്ഞ്, അന്നത്തെ ഉച്ചമയക്കം ശരിയാവാഞ്ഞതിന്റെ ചെറിയ ഒരു അലോസരത്തിൽ ഇരിക്കുകയായിരുന്നു അച്ചൻ.

പെട്ടെന്നാണ് പുറകിൽ നിന്നൊരു ശബ്ദം.

'എന്താടോ ആബേലേ ഭയങ്കര ആലോചന?'

' ഹാ, ചേട്ടായി എത്തിയോ?' അച്ചൻ ചിരിച്ചു കൊണ്ട് ചോദിച്ചു. 'പ്രത്യേകിച്ച് ഒന്നുമില്ല. പിന്നെ ഓശാന ഒക്കെ കഴിഞ്ഞതല്ലേ? ഞാൻ ചേട്ടായിയുടെ തന്നെ പഴയ കാര്യങ്ങൾ ഓർത്തിരുന്നു പോയി. അന്ന് കുറേ അനുഭവിച്ചല്ലേ?'

ചേട്ടായിയുടെ മുഖം പെട്ടെന്നാണ് മാറിയത്. ചുണ്ടിൽ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്ന പുഞ്ചിരി മാഞ്ഞു. ആ കണ്ണുകളിൽ പല വികാരങ്ങളുടെ ഒരു വേലിയേറ്റം തന്നെ കണ്ടു അച്ചൻ. മണിക്കൂറുകൾ എടുത്തെന്ന് തോന്നിപ്പിച്ച നിശബ്ദത ചേട്ടായി തന്നെയാണ് ഭേദിച്ചത്.

' ഓ എന്നാ പറയാനാടാ അന്ന് അങ്ങനെയൊക്കെ സംഭവിച്ചു. ഞാൻ വലിയ കാര്യമായിട്ട് അപ്പനോട് ഡയലോഗ് ഒക്കെ അടിച്ചു, അവന്മാരെ ഞാൻ തന്നെ നേരിട്ടോളാം എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞപ്പോൾ, 'അതു വേണോടാ മോനെ' എന്ന് അപ്പൻ എടുത്തു ചോദിച്ചതാ. ചോരത്തിളപ്പിന്റെ പ്രായമല്ലേ? അങ്ങോട്ട് എടുത്തു ചാടി. ഇത്ര വലിയ പണി കിട്ടുമെന്ന് സത്യം പറഞ്ഞാൽ ഞാൻ വിചാരിച്ചില്ല. ആ, പിന്നെ എല്ലാം സംഭവിക്കേണ്ടത് ആയിരുന്നു എന്ന് കരുതി ആശ്വസിക്കാം.'

' എനിക്ക് അതെല്ലാം ഒന്ന് എഴുതി വയ്ക്കണമെന്ന് തോന്നിയിട്ട് കുറച്ചുകാലമായി. പക്ഷേ ചേട്ടായി അനുഭവിച്ചതെല്ലാം അതേപോലെ എഴുതാൻ ഒട്ടും എനിക്ക് പറ്റുന്നില്ല. അത് അനുഭവിച്ച ഒരാൾക്ക് അല്ലേ അത്ര ഭംഗിയായി എഴുതാൻ പറ്റൂ.'

' എന്റെ പൊന്നു മോനെ, ഞാൻ അനുഭവിച്ചത് എങ്ങാനും ഒന്ന് നേരിട്ട് കണ്ടിരുന്നെങ്കിൽ നീ താങ്ങുകേലായിരുന്നു, പിന്നെയാ അത് അനുഭവിക്കാൻ!'

' ഇല്ല ചേട്ടായി, എനിക്ക് ഉറപ്പുണ്ട് എന്നെക്കൊണ്ട് പറ്റും!'

അതിന്റെ മറുപടി ഒരു ചെറുപുഞ്ചിരി മാത്രമായിരുന്നു.

' അതെന്നാ ഒരു ചിരി? എന്നെക്കൊണ്ട് സാധിക്കില്ല എന്ന് തോന്നുന്നുണ്ടോ?'

' ഉം, ശരിയാണ്, ഇന്നിപ്പോ ആരെക്കൊണ്ടെങ്കിലും അത് സാധിക്കുമെങ്കിൽ അത് നിന്നെക്കൊണ്ട് മാത്രമായിരിക്കും. നിനക്ക് അത്രയ്ക്ക് ഉറപ്പുള്ള സ്ഥിതിക്ക് ആ അനുഭവങ്ങൾ എല്ലാം തന്നെ നിനക്കും സ്വന്തമാകും. പക്ഷേ നീ എഴുതി തീർക്കുമോ എന്ന് എനിക്ക് പറയാൻ പറ്റില്ല. അത് തീരുമാനിക്കുന്നത് ഞാനല്ല, അപ്പനാണ്. അപ്പനോട് തന്നെ ചോദിക്കേണ്ടിവരും'.

' അതു കൊള്ളാം, ഞാൻ ഇതെല്ലാം അനുഭവിക്കുകയും വേണം പക്ഷേ എഴുതി തീർക്കാൻ പറ്റുമോ എന്ന് ഒരു ഉറപ്പുമില്ല. ഇത് പണ്ട് ഒരു അമ്മച്ചി വന്നു ചോദിച്ചപ്പോൾ ചേട്ടായി പറഞ്ഞതുപോലെ ആയല്ലോ.'

'നീ ആരുടെ കാര്യമാണ് പറയുന്നത് എന്ന് എനിക്ക് മനസ്സിലായി. പിന്നെ, മുഴുവൻ സമയം എന്റെ അപ്പുറത്തും ഇപ്പുറത്തും നടക്കണം എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞാൽ ഞാൻ എന്തു പറയാനാ? അതാണന്ന് ഞാൻ പറഞ്ഞത് അപ്പനാണ് ഇതൊക്കെ തീരുമാനിക്കുന്നതെന്ന്.'

'ശരി, എന്തായാലും കൊള്ളാം, എനിക്ക് എഴുതണം. അതിന് എന്താണോ വേണ്ടത് അത് ഏറ്റെടുക്കുവാൻ ഞാൻ തയ്യാറാണ്'.

'എങ്കിൽ പിന്നെ നീ എഴുതി തുടങ്ങിക്കോ. ഓരോ സംഭവങ്ങൾ തന്നെ വന്നോളും. ഞാൻ തൽക്കാലം തിരിച്ചുപോകുന്നു. പിന്നെ വന്നു കണ്ടോളാം നിന്നെയും, നീ എഴുതിയതും.'

ചേട്ടായി മുറിയിൽ നിന്നിറങ്ങിയതും പെട്ടെന്ന് അവിടെ മുഴുവൻ ഇരുട്ട് വന്ന് മൂടിയത് പോലെ ഒരു മാറ്റം. മീന മാസത്തെ സൂര്യൻ പുറത്ത് കത്തിജ്വലിക്കുന്നുണ്ടെങ്കിലും അച്ചന്റെ മുറി മുഴുവൻ ഇരുട്ട് കമ്പിളി പുതച്ചത് പോലെ നിന്നു. വല്ലാത്ത ശബ്ദവും ബഹളവും കേട്ടിട്ട് കുശിനിക്കാരൻ കറിയാച്ചൻ ഓടിവന്ന് കതകിൽ തട്ടി വിളിച്ചു. അച്ചൻ പുറത്തു വന്ന് ധൃതിയിൽ പറഞ്ഞു, 'കറിയാച്ചാ, ഇന്നിനി ആരെയും അകത്തോട്ട് കയറ്റി വിടേണ്ട'. കറിയാച്ചന് കാര്യം പിടികിട്ടി. സാധാരണ എന്തെങ്കിലും എഴുതാൻ കിട്ടുമ്പോഴാണ് ഇങ്ങനെ സ്വയം ജയിലിൽ അടച്ചത് പോലെ അച്ചൻ ഇരിക്കുന്നത്. പക്ഷേ ഇത്തവണ കുറച്ച് കൂടിയ സംഗതിയാണെന്ന് കറിയാച്ചന് തോന്നി. എന്തായാലും വാതിലും ജനലും എല്ലാം അടച്ച് പുറത്തുനിന്ന് ബന്തവസാക്കി ഏൽപ്പിച്ച ജോലി ഭംഗിയായി പൂർത്തിയാക്കി.

അന്നേരം ഏകദേശം 3:00 മണി ആയിരുന്നു.

പിന്നെ അവിടെ എന്തൊക്കെ സംഭവിച്ചു എന്ന് ആർക്കും ഒരു അറിവും ഇല്ല. പലപ്പോഴും അച്ചന്റെ ഉറക്കെയുള്ള കരച്ചിൽ കേട്ടു. രണ്ടുമൂന്നു തവണ കസേരയിൽ നിന്ന് നിലത്തുവീണ ശബ്ദം കേട്ടു. പലതരത്തിലുള്ള വർത്തമാനങ്ങളും അലർച്ചകളും മാറിമാറി മുറിയിൽ നിന്ന് പുറത്തു വന്നു കൊണ്ടേയിരുന്നു. അവസാനം മൂന്നു മണിക്കൂറുകൾക്ക് ശേഷം ശബ്ദമൊന്നും കേൾക്കാതെ ആയപ്പോൾ കറിയാച്ചൻ ചെന്ന് വാതിൽ തുറന്നു.

അകത്തു കണ്ട കാഴ്ച ശരിക്കും ഭീകരമായിരുന്നു . അച്ചന്റെ ഉടുപ്പ് എല്ലാം ആരോ കീറിപ്പറിച്ചു വച്ചിരുന്നത് പോലെ. ഭയങ്കരമായ ഏതോ ഭാരം ചുമന്നതുപോലെ അച്ചൻ തളർന്ന് ആവശനായിരുന്നു. കറിയാച്ചൻ അവിടെ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്ന മറ്റുള്ളവരെ കൂടെ കൂട്ടി അച്ചനെ ഒരു കട്ടിലിൽ കിടത്തി.

ആ മുറിയിൽ മുഴുവൻ പതിവില്ലാത്ത ഒരു ഗന്ധം നിറഞ്ഞു നിന്നു. കറിയാച്ചൻ അച്ചന്റെ മേശയിലോട്ടു നോക്കി. അവിടെ അച്ചൻ എഴുതിവച്ചിരുന്ന കടലാസ്സുകൾ പരന്നു കിടന്നിരുന്നു. അവിടെ നിന്നാണ് ആ മണം വന്നിരുന്നത്. കറിയാച്ചൻ അതെടുത്തു നോക്കി. എഴുതിയിരിക്കുന്നത് അച്ചന്റെ പ്രിയപ്പെട്ട പേനകൊണ്ട് തന്നെ. ചെൽപാർക്ക് മഷിയുടെ നീലനിറം ആ പേപ്പറുകളെ അലങ്കരിച്ചിരുന്നു. പക്ഷേ ആ രൂക്ഷഗന്ധം അതിൽ നിന്ന് തന്നെ ആണ് വന്നിരുന്നത്. കറിയാച്ചൻ ഒന്ന് ഞെട്ടി! അത് ചൂട് ചോരയുടെ മണം ആയിരുന്നു.

പെട്ടെന്ന് കിഴക്ക് ഭാഗത്തുള്ള ജനലിന്റെ പാളി തുറന്നു ശക്തിയുള്ള ഒരു കാറ്റ് വീശി. മേശപ്പുറത്ത് കിടന്നിരുന്ന കടലാസുകളെല്ലാം തന്നെ കാറ്റ് പറത്തിക്കൊണ്ടു പോകുന്നതിനു തൊട്ടുമുമ്പ് കറിയാച്ചൻ അതിന്റെ തുടക്കത്തിൽ എഴുതിയിരുന്ന വരികൾ കണ്ടു, അതിങ്ങനെയായിരുന്നു.

കുരിശിൽ മരിച്ചവനെ

കുരിശാലെ വിജയം വരിച്ചവനെ...

The Receiving End

Twenty beautiful years. That was what I was blessed to be with my parents and my brother, day in and day out, physically. Ever since I was born and till the day I completed my graduation, I stayed home with my family in our small town of Changanacherry in Kerala. Post graduation took me out of my town for the first time and since then I came back home for vacations which were some of the most cherished moments in life.

Coimbatore, a city in the neighbouring state of Tamil Nadu was the first one in the list where I had to stay in a hostel for three years till the end of the PG course. This was followed by Bangalore for further studies followed by my first job and eventually I landed in Dubai.

During the Coimbatore days, each time after a vacation got over, I used to travel back from Changanacherry to Coimbatore by bus. There was an almost religious sequence to those sent offs. Mom and dad packed food stuff like pickles and snacks which I’ll take back to my hostel. Dad would’ve already booked the bus in advance and on the day I had to leave, with absolutely no exception, he will drop me at the travel agency office. It didn’t stop there.

Buses to many destinations stopped there at the office to pick up passengers. There were always a few boys or girls like me in the waiting area or outside the office awaiting their buses. Almost all of the girls had their parents or at least their fathers waiting along with them for the buses to arrive. That was rarely the case when it came to boys. For most of them, it was either their parents or sometimes a friend or a relative dropping them off and wouldn’t wait for their departure. This was where my dad was an exception.

Dad would drop me at the travel agency, parked his Maruti 800, the cutest car India produced those times, came to the agency office and stayed with me till the time my bus arrived. The waiting time could be anywhere between half an hour to one hour, sometimes more, depending on the traffic conditions on the road. I thank God now for allowing me to be born in early 80’s before mobile phones became popular that I spent all those waiting time talking to my dad.

After a while, the travel agency owner would announce the arrival of the bus in the next five minutes. That’s when I’ll get ready with my bags and wait for the bus to show its face. The agency office was located at a place where you could see the bus coming from a distance. As soon as dad spotted the bus, he would prompt me to get ready for departure. He’ll ensure that I didn’t forget any of my bags and once the bus arrived the same assurance is made for the luggage to be tucked in the belly of the bus safely and I was seated comfortably inside the bus.

The most precious of all those times were the last moments when I bid goodbye to dad before boarding the bus. I had never seen him cry, but always felt his deep love for me welled up in his heart as he looked into my eyes and uttered probably the shortest word in this world, ‘OK’. That ‘OK’ had everything included in it and I knew he didn’t have to be vocal to express that. Ironically, I am just the opposite when it came to expressing love and emotions. Even though dad was not quite comfortable with public display of affection, I always ensured that I gave him a tight hug and a loving kiss on his cheeks and told him to take care till we meet again. He will nod his head and smile. And that’s how we parted.

I loved the fact that I am the one who was leaving and not staying back, as I always felt seeing off someone is more painful than being sent off. The one who is going away will have new experiences to look forward to including the travel itself whereas the one who is seeing off will go back to the same life minus the loved one whom you just sent off. That hurts.

I guess dad got tired of being the one who was seeing me off all the time and decided on a bright and sunny day on, 16 Feb 2023, to allow me to see him off. This time I was the one who was speechless, though my tears did all the talk as dad was on a journey that had no return. But I did tell him for one last time to take care till we meet again in eternal life. He didn’t nod his head but had that smile on his face as always.

Promise

Still or sparkling? A question truly awakening.

The bearer who served our table, was nothing but able.

Into my glass he poured, water that indeed glowed.

I raised the glass for a toast, celebrating the success with a boast.

Not so far from this bloom, the other side of city slept in gloom.

While sparkling water tickled my taste buds,

A boy my age was filtering water off the bugs.

Little did I know, the blessing of access to water that flow.

Earlier today the kitchen sink got blocked.

Frantic calls brought the plumber all chocked.

Fixed he did everything that broke,

Soothing the brains loomed in anger of smoke.

Zoom in back to the dark little slum, the boy there still feels the glum.

Lavatories that didn’t exist and drainage that hygiene desist.

Germs, diseases, and despair were all what gave them company,

Clean water and sanitation was nothing but a dream that still accompany.

Promise I do what I can, to make the life for the boy better as I can.

The least we all can do, is to bring a smile on faces with much ado!

The Road Trap – Death Defying Dad – Part 2 of 3

It was quite characteristic of the generation in India born during mid-20th century to join and retire in the same organization. Job hopping was something unheard of during those times. My dad was not different. As far as I remember, he worked throughout his life in Dhanalakshmi Bank in Kerala. By the time I was in Grade ten in 1995, dad was working in Thiruvalla branch of the bank. It was about ten kilometres from our home at Changanacherry. He used to ride a red Kinetic Honda we had at that time.

Unlike banking these days, every employee used to leave office at 5 PM in the evening. On that uneventful day, on 29 June, as usual dad was on his way back from the bank. His routine was to head to Adens, our shop at Changanacherry, pick up mom and drop her home where I awaited them along with my grandpa. Dad would then have a quick tea and headed back to the shop where he spent time engaging the customers till around 9 PM.

A few meters before reaching Adens, there was a blind curve on the state highway which had to be approached carefully. Being the main state highway, it was a remarkably busy road, sometimes putting the National Highways to shame. Buses and trucks zipped through that road as though there were no speed limits. This curve was so infamous since lot of accidents had happened there and a few precious lives were lost as well.

Dad was neither a rash driver nor a fast one. But as destiny would have its last word, on that day as he was approaching the blind curve there was an ominous white colour Ambassador car trailing him. Dad gave way to the car and was on the edge of the road. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. He only remembered hitting the road and that too to the right side where usually an onslaught of vehicles was expected including high speed buses and trucks carrying death warrants with them. It was his sheer luck and blessing from the above that dad did not have to face any of this oncoming traffic at that moment. I dare not imagine what would have been the case otherwise.

Dad immediately got up and looked at his right hand. What he saw was terrifying to say the least. In place of his palm, he saw a mangled shape of something fully covered in blood. Till today I do not know if it was the absolute state of shock he must have been or his legendary resilience that helped him not lose his consciousness. It was later known that the car driver was drunk, and he hit dad’s bike resulting in the severe injury.

After one whole month of being admitted in Kottayam Medical College hospital, multiple surgeries including skin grafting more than once, days of excruciating pain and mental agony, dad finally made it home one day. While mom got a large bowl of warm salt water to dip his hand, as a part of the treatment, dad removed the bandage on his right hand. It was time for me to be shocked. The hand that held me as a baby and later consoled me multiple times was not there anymore the way it was. He lost two of his fingers and half the palm!

The world got to know about the tragedy. Being a banker by profession, in the pre-computer era, all calculations were manual, and staff entered numbers on ledger books. Most of the people who met my dad after this accident predicted an end to his banking career. Many advised him to think about alternate career options and empathised with him for not able to drive the bike anymore. Dad proved them all wrong. He did not need any of that empathy.

Few months later he was back at his desk in Dhanalakshmi Bank and guess what, he drove to office on the same bike. It had to happen only this way since the calendars were to be replaced 28 more times before a point of no return was to transpire!

Part 1 - The Limestone Trap: https://trexperiences.blogspot.com/2024/06/the-limestone-trap-death-defying-dad.html

Part 3 - The Final Trap: https://trexperiences.blogspot.com/2024/06/the-final-trap-death-defying-dad-part-3.html

The Limestone Trap – Death Defying Dad – Part 1 of 3

Imagine a Kerala in the early 1950s. In one of my aunts’ words, my dad who was all of five years old at that time, was a super busy bee. Not even a minute went by without him finding something naughty to do. That was the time when my grandpa had recently constructed a new house as the family was growing and they needed a bigger place to stay.

During those days it was a common practice to dilute limestone powder in water and create a sort of paint to whitewash the house. Usually a pit, that was five feet long and wide was dug up where the paint was mixed and stored. Though the construction of the house was completed, the pit remained in the backyard, filled with rainwater since there was no cover for it. Apparently, my grandma had asked grandpa to seal the pit which he was planning to get done soon.

One of those days, dad as usual was his busy self and was running around in the backyard. His eldest sister and another cousin sister were watching him from a distance. While the sisters were busy with their own activities’ dad ventured a bit far away and was exploring the length and breadth of the backyard which was one of the ways by which he frittered away time.

After a while, in between their games, dad’s eldest sister realized that she didn’t see the little one for some time. Along with her cousin she started calling out his name, but there was no response. Panic set in. Though it was their own backyard, for a five-year-old little one there were enough and more dangers to be left alone. Not to mention when it was someone as hyperactive as dad.

As the sisters rushed to the backyard looking for their brother, the elder sister heard a tiny splash of water. As there were no other water bodies in the backyard, she dashed to the only place that could hold some form of water from where the sound must have come from. She reached the limestone pit and the scene there was as scary as some of horror movies that were to be made in later years!

Dad was literally covered in water and was in the final stages of struggling for his dear life. His face and body were almost submerged in the water with the hand alone up in the air trying to grab attention of anyone who may pass by.

The sisters acted quickly. They shouted for help at the top of their voice and tried their best to get my dad out of the pit. In his cousin’s own words, he almost died that day.

But God had other plans for him. When He designed and gave life to my dad, he was meant to do greater things in life before he was finally called back. The return journey was not meant to happen unless the calendars were replaced 68 more times!

Part 2 - The Road Trap: https://trexperiences.blogspot.com/2024/06/the-road-trap-death-defying-dad-part-2.html

Part 3 - The Final Trap: https://trexperiences.blogspot.com/2024/06/the-final-trap-death-defying-dad-part-3.html

The tale of a frog

First decade of the millennium 2000. In the beautiful city of Bangalore. A dream job, in a budding company. Life was good and nothing more to ask. As days and years progressed, realization came in that human needs and wants never end. Becoming a family and other situations added to this fact and made us think of getting a four-wheeler to supplement the two-wheeler we then had.

Obvious questions came up of budget, make and model. Keep in mind that our company CEO drove a Toyota Corolla then. Considering our expenses and savings plan we decided to settle on a Hyundai i10, a small and comfortable city car. That was the best we could do then. Anything beyond that would’ve been little less than blasphemy, considering the constraints and the social environment we were in. If your CEO himself is driving a Corolla, an i10 was good enough for you.

But destiny was to have the first drive and before even we knew and the downpayment could be given for the i10, we got uprooted to Dubai. The second decade of year 2000 had just begun. I was quite fortunate to get the UAE license early enough. Soon it was time to take the decision on a car, again. Now, this time the tables turned. I truly realized the meaning of the saying ‘frog in the well’ and how perceptions could increase or decrease the quality of your life.

As soon as I landed in Dubai, one of the most common sights that welcomed me was of Dubai Taxi. It is a corporation run by a bunch of taxi companies. Majority of the taxi cars then were Toyota Camry, which was one model placed above Toyota Corolla, the car which my CEO drove back in Bangalore. A similar exercise was conducted to analyse the expenses and savings plan to decide on the EMI capacity. To our pleasant surprise we realized that we have now have equalled my CEO of the previous company, at least for the car model. That realization resulted in a beautiful mica red Toyota Corolla landing on our parking lot the very next day!

That was not the only time this reality hit us. Most of us spent a life like the proverbial tiny frog in captivity in the well. We rarely realize our true potential until we decide to shake off from the comfort zones we are in and try something different. Trust me, this is not an easy task. There could be multiple reasons why we all resist change. It could be commitments, financial or otherwise. It could also be that we are unsure of ourselves and our capabilities to go above and beyond. Or it could just be that we are being plain lazy.

Whatever said and done, we may need a stimulant to get that frog in us jump out of the well and see the world beyond the dark dungeon we are in at that point of time. Find that stimulant and use it wisely. What needs to be kept in mind is that it is a never-ending world of wells. You jump from a smaller well to a bigger one. The more you are willing to expand your thoughts and your vision about your future, the wider will be your perceptions. You will start seeing the world that you had never experienced before.

There are tonnes of ways by which you can do this. Travelling, reading, interacting with people beyond your operational boundaries are all just a few ways to do this. Above all, have an open mind to see things differently so that you can experience a better life and more importantly help you stop judging others around you.

Break the walls of your well, the world if a much larger playground!

ഒരു മലയാളം അപാരത

ഇംഗ്ലീഷ് ട്രോളുകൾ കണ്ട് ഒരു വൈകുന്നേരം വീട്ടിലെത്തിയ ഞാൻ ന്യൂജനറേഷൻ രീതിയിൽ ഭാര്യയോട് ഒരു ഡയലോഗ് അടിച്ചു, 'How was your day baby?'

'ഭാ! അമ്മായിയെ കേറി ആണോടാ പേരെടുത്ത് വിളിക്കുന്നത് അലവലാതി?'

അപ്പൻറെ പെങ്ങൾ ബേബി ആൻറി വന്ന് തൊട്ടപ്പുറത്തെ മുറിയിൽ വിശ്രമിക്കുന്ന കാര്യം ഞാൻ അറിഞ്ഞില്ല!

അതോടെ ഏതായാലും ന്യൂജനറേഷൻ റൊമാൻസ് കെട്ടിപ്പൂട്ടി...