My wife Ambika retired from service as a college teacher
today, after putting in a long service of 33 years, two months and twenty-seven
days.
It was I who accompanied her to the college on January 1,
1980, when she joined service. That was 45 days after our wedding on November
16, 1979.
Her first appointment was at the NSS college at
Dhanuvachapuram in Thiruvananthapuram district. I was employed in Coimbatore
then and both our families were in Alappuzha. The two of us were leading a suspended
animation kind of married life then, neither here, there, nor together. Both of
us were just 23 years old, which is hardly the age at which one sees anything
seriously.
We married because we were in love (from school in my case
and from college in hers) and her mother, after objections all through, suddenly insisted that the wedding ceremony be gone through immediately.
My pop, as you know,
was as casual a person as one can ever imagine. He went with it and, virtually
right out of the blue, without warning, we became husband and wife.
It was just after she had completed her post graduation in
Calicut University and I was into my second year of employment straight after
my graduation, trying to get ready to set up a home with her by the time she
finished her studies.
We were classmates and she was the most brilliant student
in the class.
Ours was a surprise wedding. Surprise, because it had looked
so complicated that when the script changed direction, it changed so drasticalky that the marriage happened just
as though it was the most natural thing to happen. One moment it was all overcast and there was no hope at all in the horizon, but suddenly the sky cleared and the sun was shining like the Dickens.
I was earning Rs.630 a month in Coimbatore then. Of this
amount, I used to send Rs.300 to my mother because my home required support and
Rs.300 to my wife in Thiruvananthapuram. Although she got a job immediately after
our marriage, her monthly salary started coming only two years after
her joining service because of the red tape none can escape at the university.
What I mean is, we had struggled quite a bit in the
beginning and also later on. There was a time when I used to survive on an
allowance of Rs.10 earned on alternate days by doing overtime work. I could do
the overtime work only on alternate days, because a friend of mine was in a worse situation than me. The overtime responsibility at the office
required the services of only one man and we used to split the loot between us.
Ambi and myself used to meet only once in two months at Alappuzha (where both
our parents were living those days) so that we can save on bus fares.
I know she had struggled more than me, getting pregnant also
in the meantime and watching every paisa she was spending. She used to resist
the temptation to go to the then Trivandrum Hotel, near the hostel where she
was staying, to order a ‘Butter Roast.’ The ‘Butter Roast’ was a special thing
at this hotel those days and she somehow often used to get the temptation to have a ‘Butter Roast’ during the time she was carrying my daughter Lakshmi.
As I mentioned before, I had accompanied her to the
college on the day she joined service. And, today, when she retired from
service, I was there at the gate to take her back home. My right foot is still
in plaster cast because of the injury already referred to in this blog and so I
cannot drive; but I phoned up a friend to drive the car for me so that I can be
there at the college gate to bring her home on the date of her retirement. My son Vishnu (who doesn't drive though he is 24) too was in the car.
In fact, Ambi does not believe in any such show of
sentiments—she is a down-to-earth lady, who does not
believe in display of sentiments. All the same, I felt I should not miss
this opportunity to be the HIM who was with her on the day she began her
professional career and also the HIM who was with her on the day she finished
her long professional career as a highly respected teacher.
*****
12 comments:
That is the sweetest and most romantic gesture...ever!
I am sure she enjoyed it despite her reservation to displays of affection!
All the very best to her! The retired life is a blast; so I am told!
P.S : This post brought tears to my eyes....it's marriages like yours that make one want to believe that, maybe, 'happily ever afters' do exist after all...
Thank you for posting this.
I don’t know whether I’m qualified to comment on this. What a lovely post! Blessed are you both, Venu chettan.
I totally totally agree with the ‘Anony’
Thank you, my anonymous friend, Arun...
wow... this was amazing.. good luck to u both
thank you, Charuji!
Long innings, Venu, may it grow longer! :-)
To us of the same generation, 1980 isn't that far away, is it? Overnight - i.e., over three decades and more, it is sometimes saddening to remember those days and to realize how fast time is running out...
Hey Venu Uncle,
It was great reading this post. Truely the two of you are blessed to be together.
hai, Kalpana! thank you! you are right!
and, yes, Balans, 1980 was just the other day, wasn't it? i was looking at the old albums in my wife's custody yesterday. you know what i mean. its lovely to look at the old photos.
there was a revelation too. my son, who is now grown up, has a striking resemblance to my father.
when we get old so we can look at life over a wide span of fifty years or so, we see the cycle repeating itself!
hello uncle,
i was lekshmi's classmate(from school to college). i remember aunty and you accompanying lekshmi to the kalolsavam music events. you two are great parents too. wish you and aunty many many more happy togetherness
simi
thank you, Simi! a pleasant surprise to find you here. uncle remembers your singing! lakshmi told me all about where you are now and how happy you are! God bless!
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