The missing beats!

Once upon a time, a little girl would take long walks with her Achan in the li’l naattuvazhi called keezhillam, where people spoke loudly this crazed-out language called valluvanadan Malayalam. And on the way to nowhere in particular, they’d stop at every small junction (say ‘kavala’) and small shops that sold random yet necessary things (muttai, attani, naranga vellam, soap, sambrani, oil and a lot more)And this little girl probably in frocks or petticoat, would sit on top of the counter and eat a red marble like sweet called ‘thaen madhuram’ while her Achan and the storekeeper discussed the rashtreeyam(politics) about CPI (his own team)and white costumed INC guys..
And then, somewhere in between, the little girl grew out of that naatuvazhi and forgot the valluvanadan malayalam, theshop keeper and of course, the taste of thaen madhuram.
Today when I am siting in this AC cabin, I wish I could go back to that li’l girl whom which the gulf returned achan used to take away with him for the naatukootams and kavala meetings. I would love to sit again in that leg sprained bench in the keezhillam party office where they discussed about world politics. I wish atleast I could take a long walk with my achan holding his fingers with a clean n clear mind..