I don’t really look like a mallu, neither do I act like one. But that doesn’t mean that I am not a mallu.. there is so much in me that can really be classified as mallu traits.

Steaming hot kanji and payar thoran ( making it even more authentic if it is served  in an old pinjanam pathram) can quickly cure an affliction of melancholy..

Or that heaviness in my heart that appears every season..In march, I miss the summer in Kerala, in June it is the first rain of the season, in Aug it is onam and in December I miss the Christmas in Kerala. The Malayalee in me is still very much alive..and now my children are decimating it by the minute..

It all started with Yaya coming to me for my opinion.

“Does this top go well with my jeans?” She asked. Simple question that had a very simple answer. “Yes” I said.

“Are you sure, Mom?”

I nodded my head and our in-house  Gecko too agreed and clicked his tongue. ” See, palliyum chilachu” I said.

“What?” She asked.

Obviously I had to translate and I told her that the gecko also agreed with me by clicking its tongue.

I wish I could explain the look on my daughter’s face. “Seriously mom, you became a doctor and still rely on gecko?”

For my child, gecko clicking its tongue is nothing but a physiological phenomenon. But I grew up with it. The decisions we took in our life were dependent on the gecko. If we were going to do something important and the gecko clicked its tongue Ammachi/Amma/Appa  etc would stop whatever they were doing and say “gulikan chilachu”.. It was a warning..it was also a sign of someone saying truth. I never thought of asking the scientific reasons for the belief..neither did I really care what the gecko’s tongue clicking means.. But the clicking sound defined who I am..It connected me to the members of my family..It was a belief that carried over generations..Whether I lived in Chengannur house or in Brisbane..when I hear a gecko clicking its tongue..a part of me still says..”gulikan chilachu”

Sadly, gulikan and its clicking will end with me..