My dad’s name, the tongue-twister

She – Name sir? 

Me – Abraham.

She – Full name, sir? 

Me – M. P. Abraham.

Blank stare from her.

Me – The M is for his village name.

She continues to stare. I oblige.

Me – Mangalatakulathil.

She – Kya, kya, what, what?

Her eyes twinkled, as she locked eyes with me asking permission – my eyes shone back giving it – go ahead, laugh. I lead the way, flashed my molar off whites & she joined in. We laughed, a little at first, then louder, as much as we could or what we thought would be appropriate.

The echo of the laugh stayed in my body as I walked back from the billing counter. My email flashed, I checked it – the hospital bill – the echoes vanished.

Still, it felt good to laugh. I didn’t realise how much I needed it. All because of dad’s name.

As I sat in the room outside the operation theatre, I kept whispering his name and smiled to myself.

Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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