The walk from Sreekariyam junction to the school seemed eternal. My father who loved talking to people kept a silence that was deafening. It was the day after the ICSE results were announced. Contrary to everyone's expectations, I scored a poor 60 in Geography and even less in English bringing down my overall grade to 18 (I believe Ramdas had the highest - 10).

The first meeting was with Fr. C.P.Varkey, who was very matter-of-fact. Basically, "You didnt do well and that showed in the results". Father Kuruvila Cherian had a bit more humane touch, who said, this is virtually nothing - considering the long road ahead of you and that this blip should spur you to study harder and climb higher in the education ladder. My father spoke very few words all this time. It was obvious that he couldn't hide his disappointment at his son's results.

On the way back, both of us competed against each other as to who would break their focus on the ground before us as we walked. It was only when somebody called "Anil" from the other side of the road that we broke out of our spell. It was none other than Kurup Sir. With a very friendly greeting, he walked across to where we stood and immediately realised that we were in bitter disappointment at the results. With a characteristic clarity of pronunciation, he started listing all the good marks I got - 92 in Malayalam, 90 in Science, 100 in Math and so on. I was surprised that he remembered all of them all by heart.The low marks I got for Geography and English were insignificant according to him. By the time we said good bye, I noticed a distinct change in my father's countenance.

That day seemed to be forgotten quicker than a face in a Thrissur pooram crowd. Until later one day, while dusting off some of my old books in the shelf, I saw of a piece of paper which had this address:

Raghava Kurup,
Vattakkattu House,
Kaviyoor P.O.
Punalur

I immediately got hold of a pen and paper and started writing a letter to Kurup sir, also mentioning the effect his encouraging words had on me and my father that day.  His response was immediate. To my utter shock, the letter contained details on how his youngest son, had died recently of some kidney disease at an early age of 28. I shuddered to realise that the day we met him at Loyola, his son was still in the hospital !!!

Amidst all his sorrow, there was also one line towards the end, that still remains etched in my memory -

"Anilinte ezuthu vayichittu njan thanne malayalam padippichathu veruthe aayilla ennu thonni"

"Reading your letter I felt that teaching you Malayalam did not go in vain"

The last I heard, Kurup Sir had also bid goodbye to this world in 2003.