Anil Mannathoor
The sea is very calm. Gentle waves, a soft breeze, vendors, children running and playing, chatting couples, lovers, and in the distance small boats, along with the auction calls echoing in the voices of fish sellers.
Raghavan kept looking around. Little children dressed like vendors selling ice cream and peanuts. Birds of many colors-some of them seemed to be migratory.
At Chaliyam Beach, where the Chaliyar River and Kadalundi River meet the Arabian Sea, Raghavan was filled with delight as he watched the beauty of the sunset.
He waved to Sister Saleeja, who was standing at a distance.
“I want to get into the water for a bit.”
“Do you really want to?”
“Yes, yes,” he insisted like a little child.
The sister, Shihab, and Fazal Master helped him down from the wheelchair. They slowly led him into the water. As the wetness spread over his feet, he looked at his companions. Thirty-three bedridden patients were enjoying themselves on the sandy shores of Chaliyam. Like Raghavan, many of them were seeing the outside world after years.
Raghavan had been confined to a wheelchair after contracting polio when he was in the fourth grade. Whenever the children and elders at home went on trips two or three times a year, no one noticed the silent ache in his heart. Sitting forever in a corner of the house, he had only imagined visiting places like Sabarimala, Guruvayur, Thekkady, and others.
It was only now, at the age of fifty-four, that he was fortunate enough to step outside. The opportunity was created by the Student Police Cadets from the local school. They gathered the necessary funds from their pocket money, by selling old items, and through a book challenge. Some children even gave up sweets, and a few set aside their lunch money for this cause.
Yielding to their insistence, the panchayat member, the palliative care committee, and the government bus together made it possible to bring Raghavan and his companions out to see the world.
The bus journey itself was an experience-seeing the village bridge, the fields, everything along the way. The doctor’s song, and Jameelatha’s Mappila song, even though she couldn’t stand up-what an experience it was.
Sister Saleeja and driver Shihab could be seen taking special care of each person. As Raghavan looked from the Chaliyam jetty toward the river, the thought that it was time to return made him quietly choke up-something only he himself knew.
