I was a cobbler by profession. That's what defined me. I didn't choose this identity for myself, it was thrust upon me.
In the village of Killipuram, my grandfather had decided to settle down and do what he had learned from his fore fathers- mend foot wear. My dad did the same, and now I am doing the same.
My father had tried to put me in school. As a child I had even gone a few days. But the elders of the village had corrected us saying we were of the class of people that didn't mix too well with the normal people. So I spent my time playing and learning the trade from father. I didn't mind, it was a good life. Carefree and fun. While all the kids went to school and studied boring math I was playing on the banks of the mighty Mithuna river.
Father passed away when I was 17. He was beaten by the normal people for entering the temple and succumbed to his injuries. The government clinic doctor was asked not to treat father as he did not belong to the normal class. The doctor,a family man with kids of his own willingly complied.
I started stitching and mending the footwear of Killipuram from then. It has been 10 years since. And so I was the cobbler of Killipuram - nothing more, nothing less.
I sometimes avenge the death of my father in my mind, stabbing the "normal" headman again and again and letting him suffer in front of all who thought we were not normal. I had even made a speech to the crowd when all this happened, in my mind. But then reality always awakened me. My wife and son always came up as a wall between me and my thoughts about vengeance.
Last year a number of government officials had come to Killipuram and taken our words on what we felt to be called "not normal". They were sent by the government to change how we were treated. Its been a year and all that has changed is that we don't even get enough shoes to mend these days.
I have decided to move away to Madurai city one of these days. The city is filled with so many people - no one would know that I do not belong to the normal people. Many a relative of mine have moved there and have managed to secure an education for their wards.
I am a cobbler and that is the curse I carry...
In the village of Killipuram, my grandfather had decided to settle down and do what he had learned from his fore fathers- mend foot wear. My dad did the same, and now I am doing the same.
My father had tried to put me in school. As a child I had even gone a few days. But the elders of the village had corrected us saying we were of the class of people that didn't mix too well with the normal people. So I spent my time playing and learning the trade from father. I didn't mind, it was a good life. Carefree and fun. While all the kids went to school and studied boring math I was playing on the banks of the mighty Mithuna river.
Father passed away when I was 17. He was beaten by the normal people for entering the temple and succumbed to his injuries. The government clinic doctor was asked not to treat father as he did not belong to the normal class. The doctor,a family man with kids of his own willingly complied.
I started stitching and mending the footwear of Killipuram from then. It has been 10 years since. And so I was the cobbler of Killipuram - nothing more, nothing less.
I sometimes avenge the death of my father in my mind, stabbing the "normal" headman again and again and letting him suffer in front of all who thought we were not normal. I had even made a speech to the crowd when all this happened, in my mind. But then reality always awakened me. My wife and son always came up as a wall between me and my thoughts about vengeance.
Last year a number of government officials had come to Killipuram and taken our words on what we felt to be called "not normal". They were sent by the government to change how we were treated. Its been a year and all that has changed is that we don't even get enough shoes to mend these days.
I have decided to move away to Madurai city one of these days. The city is filled with so many people - no one would know that I do not belong to the normal people. Many a relative of mine have moved there and have managed to secure an education for their wards.
I am a cobbler and that is the curse I carry...
hey start writing a book now ..your tone of writing has become kind of a writer..try doing it..it will be intersting
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