Page 1. Of Course, She has a name!

For me too, like most others, life started somewhere around three - we are blissfully unaware of the helplessness of our infancies. The earliest comment I can remember about me is my mother telling someone.."He will be four in Medam" (April-May).

Realisation of my existence in terms of age, relationships and transactions therefore, started somewhere there for me - well after three. I knew I would some day be like my dad. But that someday wasn't worth the wait at that time, for, like most other ordinary kids, I never imagined going beyond say 5 or 6.

And from those days, the most prominent thing I can remember about me is the other name I had - "Sundiran".. the handsome.

She always referred to me as Sundiran. How far she meant it, god alone knew. But it certainly used to make me happy.

In fact, she herself always made me happy. More than half a century later, I remember her so distinctly. Few balck hairs scattered here and there, a mouth permanently scarred by betel leaves, a white dhoti, and a piece of cloth carefully spread over her otherwise uncovered breasts. And nobody knew how old she was. She bore an even smile, showing all those teeth, each of them in a different shade of red.

Her name was Nagoo. We, the kids called her Navoo.

Had she been alive today, I would love to sweep her up in my arms and may be, dance.

She is not the only one.There are so many, many others that I want to carry in my arms and strut around. All those people who knowingly or otherwise tried to make me a fuller being. My communion with happiness started with those simple men and women!