NUNS PLEASE…NO ALCOHOL

                         It is for all time fun to realize that the root to all indisputable trivial entertainment in life commences from serious occasions. As such, this episode began with the most prevailing emotions of solemnity when a cluster of members came home to invite me for a talk at one of the most reputed Higher Secondary Schools in Calicut. I, in fact, wish to acknowledge the name of the School though I am not intending to do so at this instant. Let that be an intellectual toil for my readers to find out the school’s name. The group of people included the PTA President, a Sister clad in white who claimed to be a part of the Provincial House and a lady teacher who had the gift of the gab. I, on no account had any untamed dream of giving a talk in a school since I wasn’t a veteran in the field of oratory. Moreover, tackling an enormous throng including parents and teachers emerged relatively spine-tingling too.  Nevertheless, their unrelenting requests and praises showered upon, furnished me no choice to rebuff them and I had to settle to their deal.

                        The amusing phase approached when I knew I was supposed to give a talk on Alcohol and its drastic effects on Family life.  The teacher who came along recounted the intricacies of those children who came from families where they had alcoholic fathers and who created a vicious ambiance for the students at home. Consequently, the responsibility I had been thrust upon was to provide an awareness of the impacts of alcohol and how they are going to affect the upbringing of children. However, I accepted my challenge of convincing the many parents of that school concerning the baneful effects of drinking habits.

                          Thus the chase began and I started browsing the Net and plunged myself into uncountable number of books to prepare my speech. I sweated much to connect alcohol with family life within the limited knowledge I had of both. I had two weeks to bridge the gap of their invitation and the speech I had to deliver.  Thus the two weeks kept my eyebrows raised till I concluded my tedious expedition from drinks to school-going children. I rehearsed it myriad times in front of my mirror because each moment I think of the audience I was getting all the more panicky and dreadful since I was going to face a whole host of parents – middle aged – working in diverse segments of our society. The Sister who visited me on that day rang me up twice in between to instigate me with the thought that I am the one who has to change a group of drinking men. Anyhow, I had the challenge placed before me and I was running off hand to accomplish my goal which they had set.

                           The day came and my session was at evening and obviously that was a Wednesday in July. I was meticulously going through my pages of drinking and its impacts in family life.  I even imagined colossal masculine figures with big moustaches, reddy eyes and a round paunch listening to me circumspectly and their uneducated wives agreeing to the facts I narrated. I had a sensation of smugness the moment I visualized the Sisters and parents appreciating me for my lecture.  The much anticipated and much petrified day arrived and I had butterflies running all through my stomach.

                             I was pretty vexed on that day about the means by which I am going to reach my destination. The Sister had told me before that they would send the school car to pick me but regrettably she informed later about a heavy traffic block since a Political figure had been at Calicut on the very same day. The presence of the Political figure had shaped road blocks, route diversions, Police camps, scrutiny of vehicles and the sprouting of diehard fans in spite of heavy rains. The rains could even crush the rocks and it smeared every nerve on earth and the chill of the water was booming everywhere. The evening session was quite apprehensive and the roads appeared like black swimming pools and it felt as if the cars were churning away the pool of water splashes to their respective homes. The city had never witnessed such a rain for past many years and water clogged every pore of the city. I finally managed somehow to reach there at almost 6 pm. The hurdles were crossed but the Herculean task was still remaining – my maiden speech.

                           The school appeared like a haunted mansion and I was rather traumatized to see an abandoned school premise with none around. I felt myself there as a sheer ghost. I waited for a few minutes drenched almost in the silver droplets of rain when I saw a young sister approaching me with an old umbrella. She looked exceedingly beautiful and I always conjecture why beautiful girls embellish the robes of a nun deserting a nuptial knot. She introduced herself and took me to the Parlour where many Sisters invited and welcomed me affably and confusingly in the same moment. They provided me a high tea and it solaced me much in the frostiness of strapping rains and warmed me up completely. I asked about my audience – the so called parents – who are going to be educated by me today. The Sisters seemed rather confused with my question and they started playing games with their skilled and trained eyes. I was a baby in cradle in comparison with their gimmicks to handle people around.

                             Soon I was directed to the auditorium. The size of the auditorium scrambled me though I walked with an unruffled pace with a tilting heart and trembling hands. It was a huge auditorium where most of the cultural programmes of the school took place and the room fetched memories of my school days.  I met a few Sisters there and a handful of parents - almost four or five. There were accurately four chairs on the stage and one was unquestionably for me. I was thinking about the other three members who would be sitting along with me there. One was undeniably the Principal, the hefty Sister I met from the Parlour, the second one would be the PTA President and I was in search of the owner of the third seat obviously. Almost immediately the Principal Sister introduced me to a student in uniform who was the school leader. She greeted me with due reverence and left to go through her speech in an unseen curve of the auditorium. It was roughly 6.30 and I could envisage the vacant chairs in front of me. I was wondering where those parents who are going to be here were remaining right at that moment. Time flew and it was 6.45 and the Principal rushed to me with an awful news that the PTA President couldn’t turn up since his location was absolutely flooded with water. I agreed in a murky way and I was able to perceive a hushed up talk among the white clad Sisters. Their wimples were dancing left and right in their frenzied deliberations. The same beautiful Sister came to me and asked me to be seated on the stage. I was rather recalling my by-hearted speech in mind when I saw the difficulty the Sisters were enduring to fill up the empty chairs. There were almost 250 chairs and only 6 members precisely occupied the chairs. The rest 244 chairs remained unoccupied… to my happiness or dismay, I can’t predict exactly.

                         Within a single second I was flabbergasted to see groups of Sisters from different congregations drenched in water with black umbrellas falling into the auditorium just like a sugar sack torn apart abruptly. One after the other, they came down and filled the seats. Within the next five minutes a section of the auditorium was jam-packed and I witnessed to my surprise, many more sisters were arriving. Their ceremonial robes included different colours. Some of them were white, others gray and some were in saffron which pointed to the ultimate reality that they were summoned from different convents all through the city. Still it runs in appreciating the Sisters for the means by which they embark upon things to the core in any crisis and straighten them out with a ‘nothing had happened’ look on their faces.

                             I believe there was none in charge to welcome me and therefore the Principal took charge of it. The rain poured so heavily that even mikes were not sufficient to incarcerate the voice to the last row seated there. The Sister welcomed me and I was about to begin my session. I knew that the unfortunate Sisters of the convent had been pressed hard by senior Sisters to gap-fill the vacant seats of the auditorium. But the pinnacle of absurdity came to ground when I started my session on the subject with the foundling stone of a family life to drinking habits. I was delivering such a session to a superfluity of nuns who neither had families nor did drink, I deduce. Given the topic earlier and by-hearted the speech in advance, I had no other alternative than to deliver it then and there without considering the audience before me.

                                   It was raining cats and dogs and I had to protrude all the nerves and veins of my neck with vigor to make me audible throughout. The Nuns in front of me clutched to their rosary as I began. It gave me a sort of factual clumsiness and a smile at the same time when I convinced those poor Sisters that a married life can only be blissful if you bring to a standstill your drinking habit. I also had the opportunity to tell the Sisters that “alchohol is injurious to your health”. The Christ on their crosses might have gazed at me with confused surprise, I am sure.  I also added with great verve, “you are spoiling your families with drinks…”. Poor Nuns, what sin they had been into their early lives I do not know when they were forcefully made to listen to my speech. I could see boredom and shock on the poor faces of those nuns when they were asked to be present at the auditorium all on a sudden to fill the vacant seats for a pitiable speaker who is going to make a maiden speech. My mischievous heart was throbbing with smiles when my grave brain was pushing out the sentences “മദ്യം വിഷമാണ്‌. വിഷം മദ്യമാണ്” to a group of puzzled and worried Sisters who came from different convents abandoning their evening prayers.

                             I concluded my speech in the same way as I had planned by suggesting them that they can have a bright future for their children if they are willing to put an end to their alcohol consumption. The most exciting fact which I should not let pass here is that even a few men I saw at the Auditorium initially ( presumably the parents) were absent before I launched my session. Hopefully, I believe, they might have gone to warm themselves up with some intoxications in such a freezing and chilly rainy day. Nonetheless, I wrapped up my lecture on alcohol without a single man amidst the audience and I fairly laugh at the irony of my whole speech where the nuns were listening patiently to a Lecture of making married life better with less alcohol.

A. Krishna Sunder

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