“Once my parents agreed to the wedding proposal from your Appachan’s family, his father and uncles came to my home for the engagement. They agreed to the amount of dowry that I would bring and set the date for the wedding.
My father and your Appachan’s (grandfather) father clasped hands and a white cloth was placed over their handshake as a gesture that an agreement was reached.”

“A wedding is a period of celebration for the family so all my cousins arrived to stay with me a few days before the ceremony. When my mother saw me running around and playing with my cousins, she screamed at me and told me to stay inside the house and read the bible.
My mother and a few of my aunties went to the neighbour’s house to invite them for the wedding and to borrow the plates and cups. My father and his brother Thampichayan, used an old mundu (sarong) and made a panthal (awning) outside the house. They borrowed tables and benches from the neighbours and placed them in the panthal for the visitors to sit.

“The morning before the wedding, Pappichettan, his son, Matahichettan, and few of their men came over with big vessels to cook a traditional feast for the wedding. Pappichettan couldn’t cook anymore. He was too old to stand near the fire to stir and cook. But he always followed his son, as he was worried about his son’s alcohol consumption.”

I knew who Mathaichettan was – he stayed near Chengannur house and Ammachi would call him to cook every time there was a celebration at our house. I have often seen him singing and dancing in front of the toddy shop near the bus stand, with a towel tied around his head like a strip and his mundu (sarong) tied so high that his striped multi coloured underpants were exposed.
Every time Mathaichettan saw Appa and me getting off the bus and walking towards the Chengannur house he would stop us to chat, asking the same questions every time. Appa always tried to sneak out from the bus stand without Mathaichettan seeing us. Somehow Mathaichettan always found us. Appa would mutter
‘ Damn this old man has telescopic periscopic eyes and can see even in the middle of the night’. The only other person my father would say has telescopic periscopic eyes was my mother.
Mathaichettan would open his mouth stained red from chewing tobacco and would ask” Mone ! babu mone , how are you? How is your work?.”
I hated the strong smell of kallu (toddy) that emanated each time Mathaichettan opened his mouth. He reminded me of the male version of the goddess kali with big eyes and red tongue and I was scared of him. I would hide behind Appa.
Mathaichettan would continue babbling, “Do you still remember how I used to carry you and your sister to school everyday? Remember how I used to go inside the culvert and get the mashikol for you both, so you could use it to clean your slate? Or is it that now you are an engineer, you have forgotten this old Mathaichettan and everything he has done for you?”
He would beat his chest with his fist and cry, “aiyo ente karthave! ( oh my God!!)What wrongs have I done that people don’t appreciate what I did for them? Ente karthave !( oh lord Jesus!!) Now that I am an old man nobody cares for me. Why don’t you take me back to heaven??”

By now the passers-by would crowd around to watch the drama unfold. Appa would quietly take his wallet out of his pocket and would give a RS 10 note to him. Mathaichettan would open his toothless red colour mouth and grin, “ So you have not forgotten me after all!” He would wave the money at everyone, announcing,
“ kando kando (look look !) my son has not forgotten me! He is a famous engineer and he still hasn’t forgotten this old Mathaichettan!”
Then he’d proceed to the toddy shop singing his favourite song
ente jeevitham naya nakki,
ente jeevitham naya nakki
(my life has been licked by a dog!) and Appa would curse and swear under his breath,
“ nasham he only wants money from me to pay for his drinks.”