Silvery violet has always been my weakness. And when it comes to something that wraps a bar of chocolate, it's irresistable.
It was a hot summer day. The sprawling compound of grandma trees shaded our house from the scorching heat.
I was with my father and mother spending the children’s vacation at our ancestral home.
The sight of my father returning home in the afternoon after work thrilled my children – aged 9 and 5.
Madhu and Thulasi knew that there would be the violet shiny wrapper covering the most coveted item for them.
It was expensive in those days to have Cadbury’s chocolate every day; but the merriment that would unfold in front of his eyes outweighed the thought of money for my father.
It was just one bar for the two of them. He would sit down testing the patience of the two jumping dolls, break it into two equal halves carefully under their investigative eyes; and hand it over. Both his cheeks kissed, he would watch them running away gleefully. It was “Heaven on Earth “for my father.
Amma would be a silent witness brimming with joy.
And then in the cool, dark corridors of our home, a little child - a 32 year old mother of two- would be running after them, pleading for a small piece. But lo! They were merciless in this case.
How would I know “achan” noticing me in my frantic effort to get a taste of it? Though, on that day, when he did notice it, a smile must have crossed his dark, handsome face.
But he must have known that it would be a futile effort to coax my children to part with their ‘treasure’.
It was mid- noon next day. Amma and I were waiting for achan to come. Then we would have lunch together. It was quite a journey for hm in the hot summer, but for achan, it was just daily routine, walking home.
We spotted him atop the hillside. It was just a matter of minutes before he’d be home expecting a cool sambhaaram. Amma hurries in to make the “sambhaaram” and get a towel.
With a smile that never fades, and drenched in sweat he’s there. The little ones came running in from nowhere, at his sight. As usual he removes his shirt and comes in holding something in his hand behind. It’s anybody’s guess. My children happily ran off with their due shares.
Achan looked at me with a special smile. He whispered “There’s a little piece I’ve kept aside for you. It’s in my shirt pocket. Go take it. It’s for MY child.”
I kissed him on his cheeks and ran in – a child of 5 – to get it. The chocolate in my dad’s pocket. I saw amma watching with a smile as she lovingly wiped the sweat off my father’s back.
Eighteen years have passed since Achan left us forever. Long or short, I do not know. My thoughts will ever linger around the piece of chocolate in my dad’s pocket; when I was transformed into a little child at least for a few passing moments.
