Thattathin Marayathu

It was Binil who brought in the big news.

“Dude! There IS an ‘ummachi kutty’!”

I skipped a beat. The college had re-opened after the holidays for the 3^rd semester. The fresher batch was still arriving at the college, and the latest allotment list had hinted about the possibility that there might be few more Malayali girls. It was the time when ‘Thattathin Marayathu’ (Behind the veil), a movie where this Hindu guy would fall for a beautiful Muslim girl (Isha Talwar), was reigning the cinema halls. The movie had deep psychological impact on the society that people were suddenly convinced that ‘Ummachi kuttys’ (local slang for Muslim girls) were all as beautiful as Isha Talwar. So, when the discussion came in the Facebook group about junior girls, I had to warn them, if there was a Malabari (someone from north coastal Kerala) ummachi kutty, they better stay away from her.

 “A Malayali??” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I think so.” He wasn’t sure. “I think she lives in Hyderabad.” He added.

I must admit I was a little disappointed hearing that, what if she was more of a Telugite than a Malayali?

“Is she pretty?” I wondered?

“I would say, she is prettier than Gitu”. Someone observed.

I was in an ecstasy.  Gitu was the other junior from Kerala, and she already had many boys drooling behind her. She was like an iPhone among the Android crowd, guys compared junior girls with Gitu to rate them.

“Do you know her name?”

“Farhana.”

Though I had two cousins by that name, the name never felt so beautiful before. I mean I could call her ‘Farhu’ fondly, or maybe ‘Paru’, or even sweeter, ‘Parukutty’.

“Let’s call her in for an intro session!” I was already impatient.

“Her dad’s still here, we can meet her tomorrow.” He warned.

I only had a little time before I would confront serious competition from my fellow mates Fidal, Fabis and Yaseen, who were still at home enjoying few more days off the holidays. Fidal has his own way around girls, and had the reputation of ruining many lives. Yaseen might look to you like a shy, decent kid, but his thoughts and intentions could get contagious. Fabis has got the looks and mysteries hovering around him that qualifies him as a serious opponent. They too must have been waiting for an ‘ummachi kutty’. Seniors too posed trouble. Many desperate souls were withering in the winter dryness, and were desperately waiting for a spring break to blossom on their life. I had to make my move quickly. I waited in vain for her dad to leave the campus but he wouldn’t. He must have been making sure her daughter’s at the right hands. I badly wanted to go to him and assure him she was safe in my hands… I mean, under my vision.

Neither did he leave the next day.

Fortunately at lunch, Binil managed to bring her to the class, along with another Malayali junior girl. She definitely wasn’t as beautiful as Isha Talwar. But a pretty, thin, fair girl, with kind of nerdish glasses on her oval face, in her green churidar and red scarf. She came and stood in front of me.

“Good afternoon sir.” She greeted me according to the junior-senior protocol of the institution.

Now that she was finally in front of me, I suddenly felt the draught in my throat. My voice had betrayed me.

“Whey dhont…Ahem ahem!” I cleared my throat. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” I blabbered.

Introducing yourself to senior has its own protocol. You start with your name, your place, your hobbies and then your dislikes. You have to be very careful with what you say are your dislikes, for this other guy, once told he dislikes swimming, and he had to swim on the hostel floor whole night.

“Good Afternoon sir. My name is Farhana.” She sounded… umm… girly. I am no expert at analysing women voice.

“Full name?” I interfered.

“Sir, Farhana K… Don’t ask me what K stands for.”

“What does K stands for?” I was obedient.

“I honestly don’t know sir, I will tell you tomorrow if you want.”

“How can you not know your own name?”

“Sir, it’s a complicated word, I will ask my dad and tell you tomorrow.”

“Go on.”

“Sir, I am from Calicut…” OMG! A Malabari!!! I pump fisted a couple of times in my mind.

“Where in Calicut?”

“Westhill.” Who would have imagined that this little station you ignore while passing by in the train could be detrimental in your life.

“So, who is in Hyderabad?”

She must have raised an eye brow. “My dad used to work there, in CPWD”.

So it wasn’t her. I heaved a sigh of relief. She was a pucca Malayali!

“My hobbies are cooking..”

“What kind of dishes?” I interfered again.

“Sir, my favourite is Butter Chicken…” Oh please, chicken is my obsession. I was already day dreaming about a ‘chicken-full’ life ahead.

“…And I dislike balloons.”

What? Did I hear it wrong?

“Balloons?” I noticed many eyebrows around me rising this time.

“Yes sir, I am scared if they would explode on me.”

Poor balloon! Okay, that wouldn’t be a problem. I had no intention of gifting her balloons at the first place. That’s fine.

The other girl was Athulya, again from Calicut, pretty too, with hair which according to Karthik, resembles ‘broom’. She was again a pure Malayali breed but she spoke Malayalam like an American lost in Kerala, in her squeaky voice. Their class had started by then, and they bid their byes and left.

That’s how I first met her, and the next day I fell sick for Jaundice, and was bed ridden for a fortnight.

Kismath connection, they say!!