The Desert Rose - Chapter 4

Gopiyettan

The fish biriyani from Al Hamra Restaurant was very tasty for Menon, especially after consuming two cans of Carlsberg beer at his quarters. His experience at the Bedouin hut that Friday morning was quite enchanting to him. He wrote a letter to his mother about the new project. He wanted to share his happiness with his mother and brother through the letter. At a stage, tears blocked his vision while writing, as he was missing all of them. The financial difficulties of his family were slowly vanishing as he was sending money drafts to them every month.

A nap of about one hour refreshed him. It was 5-00 P.M and he had a hot shower. Fernando arrived as usual with his bottle and started to pour the drink

“No, not for me. I have a dinner to attend at Gopiyettan’s”. Menon said

“The banker?” Fernando questioned. “How come Mr. Menon that you are still a bachelor at this age?” Fernando continued.

“Well! I don’t believe in marriages. I am not that old. I am just35.” Menon laughed.

“My mother used to tell me, God will choose a bride for you, so wait for that.” Menon continued.

Fernando left with his bottle.

Menon drove his car quite slowly enjoying the weather through the open windows. The weather was getting a little warmer as clouds were gathering in the sky. An impending winter shower was on the cards, and it would drop the temperature, he mused. He stopped at the Bur Dubai post office to post his letter to his mother. Indian and Pakistani workers were seen everywhere in their best dresses. At the Plaza cinema, a Hindi movie was being screened.

He drove through the Strand Cinema round about and turned towards Karama. Gopiyettan was staying in one of the small villas. When he knocked at his door, Gopiyettan opened the door wearing a dhoti and a thorthu (a piece of cloth) on his right shoulder.

He greeted Menon with his loving trade mark smile. On the centre table at the sofa set were glasses and a bottle of Dimple Scotch whiskey. He had already started drinking. He took another sip and started to pour some in another glass for Menon.

“Gopiyettan, not now please. I will have later” Menon pleaded.

“Nothing doing start Sreeni.” it was an order by Gopiyettan. He called him Sreeni always, in a very affectionate way.

Gopiyettan was a very senior manager in his bank and it was his fifteenth year of employment with the British Bank. He had come to Dubai during the time of the British. His family was always in Kerala. He was diabetic, but he would not care to control his alcoholism. He had wasted a lot of money on liquor. He had a liquor permit. He always wanted company to drink and he had a permit for buying liquor which enabled him to entertain his guests and himself with all kinds of alcohol. Bachelors would throng to him in most evenings for drinks and when they get married they would avoid him. That hurt Gopiyettan very much. Still he would not stop his habit of patronizing liquor parties.

Gopiyettan’s cousin, who was also staying with him, joined us. He was a great cook and that evening’s delicacies were prepared by him.

“Is the cooking finished?” Gopiyettan asked Unnikkuttan, his cousin.

He smiled and answered in the affirmative. His head was fully bald and small pox marks were seen scattered on his cheeks and forehead.

The drinking session continued. Menon was in a controlled state. So was Unnikkuttan.

“Ammu, serve the dinner. Where are you?” Gopiyettan was searching for her. Ammu was his wife’s name.

That was his usual behaviour when he was drunk beyond limits.

He spread the thorthu on his chest and started to act like a woman.

“Have you seen Kalyana Sowganthikam kathakali?” he asked them. “You know, I was trained at the Kalamandalam in Cheruthuruthy”. He started to move in steps of Kathakali movements as Panchali.

Unnikkutan said “Sreeni, we should stop now, let me arrange the dinner on the table.”

“Nothing doing. Unni do you think I am drunk? I am not. Pour one more for me. This is an order” Gopiyettan’s tongue was not in his control. His steps were staggering.

Menon said “Gopiyetta, let us stop and eat the dinner”

“Look, you are also like Unni. You think I am drunk. I am never drunk”. With that he fell on the sofa backwards.

Unni said “let him lie down for a while. Let us eat. I will wake him up later and make him eat.”

Menon felt so much pitiful for Gopiyettan. He could not enjoy the dinner. Unni made Gopiyettan lie properly on the sofa and covered him with a blanket.

Menon left the house. He drove carefully.

Another Friday was about to end during the winter season of a year of the late 1970’s at the city of Dubai.