Malayali in London ~ Part-2

Chapter-1:

. . . Thiruvananthapuram . . .

I ate the fish, which was rich in spices and chilly. Amama knew that fish was my favourite, especially Karimeen Pollichathu, a dish made from pearl spot fish. We finished eating and washed our hands. Mum took the plates into the kitchen. Amama then asked us to help her tend to the plants in the garden.

After about an hour of helping Amama with gardening, I went to the Thiruvananthapuram beach. Our garden looks over the beach. The beach’s a beautiful place to watch the sunset. I spend hours there, either sitting on the shore and watching the waves or playing in the water with the kids of the village. The Thiruvananthapuram beach is a tourist hot spot, it can get crowded in the peak season. I can make some extra money by guiding tourists around Thiruvananthapuram. On my way there I see a newspaper boy screaming at the top of his lungs to sell today’s paper, copies of which are piled on the back seat of his bicycle. It makes me wonder what’s the date today. I check my phone, it’s the twenty-fifth of March, another Friday, nothing special. I sit there on the shore, watching the waves. I always love the sound they make. The gushing of the wind and the gurgling of water. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore is accompanied by the scent of hot sand mixed with sunscreen and maybe even coconut. I bought a bounty bar a while ago. I love the taste of chocolate with coconut shavings. The waves always calm me down, whether it’s before an exam or after a busy day.

I just finished schooling a month ago. I had worked hard for my twelfth board exams. The results came in and I passed with a good 98.74%, so getting into college wouldn’t be too difficult. I was a humanities major. I’ve found interest in literature. It’s always been my ambition to be an author. I want to get a degree in literature to further pursue this dream. I’ve been searching for colleges with courses in literature in Thiruvananthapuram for the month, but I still haven’t found one that fits.

My phone suddenly rang. It’s Will. I usually call William by the name of Will and he calls me Akshi. I pick up the call, “Akshi, where are you?” he asks in a threatening sort of way, I smile, especially because I know he can’t see me doing that, “Where I usually am after sunset. You know me better than that, Will. I’m at the Thiruvananthapuram beach.” I can hear him sigh through the phone, he sounds frustrated as he speaks, “Come home now. Father’s calling in a family meeting.” Father calls a family meeting when he has an announcement for the whole family.

I get up and brush off the sand from my clothes. I walk home through the streets of Thiruvananthapuram and find ammavam on the veranda, ammavam is what we Malayalees call our mother's brother, I ask him what the meeting was for, and he replies, “Don’t know. Your father got an email. He read it and told us we’re having a family meeting.” Everyone in the house finds the idea of a family meeting strange, but no one admits it to my father. This whole conversation with ammavam was in Malayalam. Will isn’t very fluent in Malayalam, and my father doesn’t understand the language at all. Amama doesn’t speak anything but Malayalam. That’s why there always has to be a translator when my father and Amama are having a conversation. I can speak Malayalam like any other local in Kerala.