My Days in My Years
Chapter 1V

Let me also talk about another of my classmate, who was dear to me in the lower classes,  subsequently I lost touch and later revived. But at that time, we were poles apart in all conceivable  ways. It is the story of one Porinchu, which is a typical name among Christians in our part of the world. Its more anglicized version is Francis, which means in Latin " Farmer" or something of that sort.
Porinchu's father was our manager. I am using the word   since I am not finding any other  equivalent name in English to express that. His job was little more than an errand man and grossly short of a manger, in the conventional sense. He used to supervise the land and farm  related activities. He was  the person who took   initiatives in organizing people for the farming works.  He sometimes supervised the harvesting activities.  If there were some special ceremonies  like marriage, baptism, or sending gifts to our relatives staying away from our place, he used to  look after such things. That way he was a close confidant of our household ever since he was a small boy. His father also was attached to our household. Porichu's mother also used to help our household in special occasions like preparations  for festivities. She was good culinary expert and was adjudged as the best in the preparation of  some of the Syrian christian delicacies  like different types appams, stews etc. Fish and prawns curries were her specialties.

I recall that Porichu's family except him used to work in our households and farms. But he never used to come. Since he was the youngest child, perhaps, he was given a special favor. They wanted him to study and become someone different. I have never seen him in our household except when I had invited him to play. That too he came with great trepidation. I always liked his self esteem. I think it was in the fourth standard or so that we met. We were in the same class. Together we studied in the same classes and used to sit next to each other till the seventh standard.  After that I was enrolled in a boarding house. But we used to  keep our contacts, whenever I was  in my village for holidays.
After the seventh standard,  Porichu joined the high school a few kilometers away from our place. He had to cross a ferry and climb a hill  to reach the school, which was on a hilltop. Though our interfaces were limited only when I was in the village, I used to know about him. I do not think that we exchanged any letters. Porinchu was very active in the church. He was one of the altar boys and perhaps the one who knew the liturgy by heart. During our time, liturgy was in Syriac and the altar boys had to  recite responses to priest's prayers. There was a book, which contained the prayers   the altar boys had to recite in responses to priest's prayers. It was a book containing Syriac verses written in Malayalam.   While the senior most of the altar boys had to have the help of the book to recite the prayers, Porinchu knew it by heart.  For that he had received accolades from priests and the laity alike.
Also, Porichu took a lot of interest in teaching catechism in the Sunday School. He even avoided important family functions outside our village to be present on Sundays for the catechism classes.  He also famously got along with all parish priests and lent his support to all parish activities. Like any community activity, parish works also attracted public attention   and most often criticisms. But Porichu steered himself  clear  from such controversies and petty politics.
 For our middle school education, that is 6th and 7th standard, we had to go to a nearby  place called Ayroor, which was  more than  3 kms  our village. That time bus services were not that frequent and  some days, the line buses did not operate at all for one reason or the other. Everyday, we used to walk up and  down the distances. A totoal of over 6 kms a day  we used to commute.  That was a great fun. We used to take short cuts to the school and often that landed up in problems. The short cuts used to be through someone's land  surrounding their house. Sometimes they used to hurl abuses on us for trepassing. It was not without any reason. Some of the boys used to pluck mangoes or other fruits  grown in the orchards. Everyone used to carry a  lunch box and during the lunch time gobble it up in seconds to hit the playground at the earliest. 
One day, there was a football match fixed between  team in our village and our school team. We were very excited about the match. We could see the team from our village walking into the playground.  I must say I was over excited and howled along with the whole class. There was one  Malayalam master who was very tall and lanky. He used to come from a place beyond our village   commuting not less than 10 kms a day. His name was Bhaskaran Menon. He used to walk fast and later  he rode in a bicycle. When the commotion in our class became unbearable, he barged into our class. He had sensed that howling had come from our bench and could not  make  out who was responsible. He called Porinchu and  leveled the charge aginst him. He denied and then he was asked  to name the person. Porichu stood the ground and    expressed his ignorance. He questioned him for the next five minutes or so and not getting any clue left  the class. I felt so relived and thanked Porinchu for his forbearance. That time he was in tears.
We passed out the matriculation in the same year. But he did not go to the college. Later I came to know that he was very keen to join the priesthood and sent his application to the seminary. Unfortunately, the priests from the so called affluent families in our village ganged up against  him and impressed on the e seminary authorities not to enroll him since he hailed from a family that was not  in the reckoning. That was the church politics at that time. Porinchu I was told was crestfallen at this set back and lingered on with some courses like typing & stenography. There also he could not do much. A few years back, I met him at  his  shop which deals in some Ayurveda medicines. He is a totally changed man. His parents wanted him to be different and they must have dreamed  of him becoming a priest, which was a status symbol. All his brothers' sons, I am told, are doing extremely well. One of them, has become the richest person in our village and  he has at his command  acres  of land in Kerala and neighboring states. He built a palatial house in our village and has become a quite a mover and shaker.
But fate had caught  up with the priests who had ganged up against him. Serious charges were leveled against some of them. The last I heard was that one of them was prevented from undertaking any church related activities including celebration of masses.  But that cannot give back Porinchu whatever he lost. I am sure fate will reason catch up him and will give rich bounties, which he dearly deserves.