Basheer's humble world of words...

Basheer is no unfamiliar name to any malayalee.I needn't take his whole name for people to understand who I'm talking about.Such is the world he created with his writing,a thought driven world he created that inspired many,with mere simple language,and his simple style of writing.He was never a perfect writer by the usual standards.You cannot place his writing under any particular influence.His books were those that a common man could read,without the help of any other reading aid like a dictionary..Like Albert Einstein said about Gandhiji. "Generations to come will scarce believe that such a one as this walked the earth in flesh and blood".I wouldn't be exaggerating if I felt the same about Basheer.I remember the days when I wasn't very fond of reading malayalam books except magazines and papers,and my dad's books,and his book 'Baalyakaalasaghi' kept me glued for two days.Reading the book twice continuously,without even changing my school uniform.In his simple language he depicts the lovely story of Majeed and Suhra and their childhood romance,the tragedies of real life.He even said that Majeed of Baalyakaalasaghi is himself,and what inspired him to write that book was the nightmare he had,about his childhood companion Suhra's death.All the books Basheer wrote were small,yet filled with thoughts ,that he liked conveying indirectly.The size of the book never mattered ,no author would ever dare complaining that Basheer wrote less,because what he wrote was filled with matter,food for our thoughts.

An ordinary man,with no extraordinary skills in writing was called 'Beypore Sultan' ,just to denote the greatness in him,is what author Ponkunnam Varki said ,He wasn't any Sultan ,or a person who wants to show off his great skills.He was a man who wouldn't lie even to get anything done,a man who wouldnt fill his mind with negative thoughts,a very innocent lover.His humour cannot be matched,and the way he conveys very relevant social messages,is unbelievable.

Basheer never created stories,to believe his stories ,all you need to do is believe in him,in his life.

OV Vijayan said it so rightly ,Malayalam needn't necessarily be influenced from the Dravidian or Sanskrit style of writing.That is exactly why, what Basheer wrote was different,but even he was a malayalee,and an Indian.

What is known in his name 'Basheer' is a broad literary world.There are authors who would die to get Basheer's space,who were awestruck to realize that such a simple person,can create such mass appeal.Writers wanted to write like Basheer,they wanted their books to be read like Basheer's was,by every strata in the society.Not just in his stories,even in his conversations and letters,there were characters,there was  humour,there were social messages,on issues like dowry.He was never a perfect person,there was a phase when he used to drink too,and lie on the floor and act like a baby.His fellow mates knew him very well.There are people who also say that Basheer did not contribute much after his marriage.

But all I know is,I knew a different world of malayalam,a different world of humour,a different world of love through him.Infact his novel introduced me into the world of love,and all those little things of day to day life. :-)

ps: There is a lot more to him,a lot more to his books and his life.My attempt was to just tell you ,why I am so fond of him as a writer,and how he inspires me.In a world where people need to know,there were people greater,and way more humble! 

In the memory of Chintha Ravi uncle

Dad's group of friends were never strangers to us,unlike few other malayalee families where the men of the house would hang out with their friends,would be away late at night,but the wife and kids wouldn't know the man's circle of friends,his close friends,and the likes.For us it wasn't just quite different,but it was a lot different from other families.As a typical journalist's kids we grew up,My sister and I were involved in every phase my father passed,as a journalist,his friends,his colleagues,his admirers and fans and the outside world.

My mother who has always been a very social person ,never set curfews for my dad,since she believed he knew his limits,and his close friends were close to her as well.When I heard the news of Ravi uncle's demise,the pictures of our medical college flat,the ash trays lying around,the mess there,it all started playing in my mind like a horrifying video,shot after shot,each clip playing an replaying.Ravi uncle used to live in our medical college apartment,for a period of time,that apartment was more of a bachelor's playground,where there were married men discussing journalism and other topics over drinks and cigarettes,my dad's hangout zone it was,press club wouldn't stand a comparison.My mom never cribbed about cleaning the mess,since she knew how important those people were in dad's life.OK Johny uncle,Ravi uncle,Pradeep uncle and many others who visited often.

I fall short of words to express how he connected so well with my dad,and never would I be able to even explain his greatness verbally,he was like family .I was a small kid when 'Endae Keralam' used to be telecasted on Asianet,but I feel like I saw the programme only yesterday.Medical college apartment is still there,tenants from IT companies occupy it,they pay the cheque on the first day of every month,and that is all we know about it.

I can tell you how blessed I am ,to have met such a lovely person in my life.

He was a man with a lot of thoughts,a man who wished he could do a lot more,but that is destiny,he died before fulfilling many of those wishes.The memories he left behind will hold us through,all our lives.I still feel incomplete,and want to write more,but I just can't get the flow here..just cant seem to.