Chapter 111
                                             My Days in My Years
 Another of my classmate in the lower classes was one Devassy. He was never called by that name, except when the class teacher took the attendance. He was known by the texture of his skin and his looks. People in the village and school called him Karimuttan, which means: black goat . Of course, I remember that he never looked like  a goat and I do not know how he came to be  known by that name. Might be because of his well built body and masculine physique.  Later, I knew there was another dimension to this name, which I will expalin later.
Devassy also hailed from a poor family. Thresia used to  warn me that I should not make any friendship with him, since he was a recently converted christian and the taboos of the earlier caste chased him, as if he had done some sins. Unlike other boys in my class, Devassy was very jovial, energetic  and  talkative. Very often, he used to sit next to  me in the class, though I avoided him. Because, whenever he sat next to me, he used to command me to bring things like gooseberry,  tender mangoes, cashew nuts etc from home. He knew that these fruits  were  grown in our courtyard in abundance. He also used to tease me by  hiding  my slate, books and pencils . He must have been a few years elder to me and more well built and agile. Many times, the protective shield thrown by Thresia around me helped me to escape from his harassment. He was somehow or the other afraid of Thresia, who used to call him all names including "markavasi" ( newly converted Christian) which is not a palatable reference. She only used that name against him and he  fell into  silence after  that abuse was hurled at  him.

Nobody could beat  Devassy  in the games. He could sprint barefooted at great speed. He could master any game or sports within no time. he used to pedal cycle at great speed.  If my memory is right, he was good in his studies. He could solve simple mathematics faster than anybody else in the class. His greatest past time was to bring tea and sancks  from the nearby tea shop to the teachers. In village schools, it was a common practice among the teachers to ask the students from poor families to fetch things like that. He used to take great pride in such errands. The culinary tastes of the teachers were well known to him. He would order the snacks and tea in accordance with the taste and preference of the teachers. Often he shares  culinary likes and dislikes of each teacher: headmaster takes black tea with  Parippu Vada (sanck made of dal), Kungappan Sir likes Suhayan ( (a snack stuffed with moong dal and molasses) and on..  Often he came with the snacks in the class. We did not know whether it was left overs or things he demanded from the tea shopkeeper. Such things he used to eat in the presence of everyone in the class and never shared with anyone. There were instances when students sitting next to him snatched the snacks and gulped. Often fight used to break out and the  snatcher  used to get beaten up by him.

There were many stories that used to floated about him by grown up children in the class. Some of them were juicy. One of the stories made rounds was that he was a bastard. He was born out of wedlock and his real father was someone else. They gossiped that his  father was fair in color so also his mother and questioned how he had become so black. At that tender age, I could not understand the underpinnings of those gossips.  Neither I had the courage to clarify them with anyone in the class or at home. Only thing that I could understand was that it was something unsavory.
Devassy dropped out of the school. in the third or fourth standard. I used to see him roaming around the school  for  some errands. If my memory is right, he still continued with his errands with the tea shop owner and widened his clientele to nearby shops also. he also acted as a deliverer of meat butchered by someone else. I often used to envy him  since he led a carefree life, always peddling cycle and above all not subject to the rigors of learning.

 Many years later, after I completed schooling, I heard about him and that too was a juicy news. He picked up friendship with a  girl in the neighborhood. Clandestinely, they used to meet at her place at night. Once, he went to her house. Unfortunately, that day the girl went to her relatives for spending the night, which he was unaware. He went to the place where she normally slept and that day one of the aunts of the girl occupied that space for sleeping. The rest was an pandemonium and severe beatings. To cut the long story short, Devassy fled the village  that night itself never to be seen for long years. The grapevine had that he went to Malabar, a place where people used to migrate at that time. Did he live up to his nick name: black goat?

A few years back, when I visited my village I inquired about Devassy. That time I was told he was no more and died of some unknown disease. I do not know what was the type of my feelings towards Devassy, fear, hatred or a combination of both. But one thing is clear he was not a run off the mill child. At an young age, he demonstrated how he could bully people and bring them to his toes.