“Of late, a shudder escapes Chandran whenever he meets Leeloppol. One or two shudders are justifiable, because she happens to be the Leader Trainee for Guides. “Authority should always be respected,” he elaborates though he is not sure how a solitary shudder or a series of such shudders could reveal one’s awe to anybody.

“Chandran, fetch me a litre of kerosene from the ration shop,” waving a ration card and an empty mineral water bottle, she orders.

After a while she flings the enticement, “You can buy a banana too.” She knows this is something which he can hardly decline.

She knows he has a weakness for bananas. She has often heard his assertion that “A banana a day keeps one’s indigestion away,” which rather rhymes with the old saying, “An apple a day keeps a doctor away.” Chandran is neither a parodist nor a plagiarist. The resemblance, if any, is purely coincidental.

He lavishly shakes his head. Then he collects the tiny book and looks at it. It has a leather-bound exterior with the words, “Ration card,” embossed in gold. If the ration card is leather bound, Chandran is spellbound,

“Wonderful! This is how ration cards are to be preserved. I suggest you release a feature on the subject for the benefit of our uninformed relatives,” tells Chandran. One after another, the pictures of his ignorant brothers and sisters surface up in his mind, and he grieves.

Leeloppol offers a vacant smile possibly with the implication that, “there is hardly any sense in sparing my efforts to educate guys like you.”

As he ventures out, Leeloppol reminds him,

“Let the cost not exceed fifty paise.”

Once more, he is spellbound.

“What are you talking? Even if the coin is a glittering brand new piece, it would fetch only a few drops of kerosene. I don’t need a container for that. I can carry them in my cupped palms,” confirms Chandran. For the sake of emphasis, he actually cups his palms and exhibits it for inspection.

“I am talking about the plantain, not kerosene,” clarifies Leeloppol.

He is distraught, but he reaches the ration shop. He surveys the wares strewn all over there. To his disappointment he finds that plantains are a scarce commodity there.

The owner of the shop is a familiar chap. Pleasantries having been exchanged, Chandran hands over the ration card to him.
“Please get me a litre of kerosene,” appeals Chandran.

“Oh, yes. But rules are rules. Verification comes first,” he insists.

Chandran stands a little away carrying the partly squeezed mineral water bottle. He is impatient. For the sake of his own entertainment, he squeezes the bottle once or twice. At the next instant, shattering sound emanates and the shop owner jolts once or twice. He clicks his tongue in objection and the obedient Chandran falls silent.

He scans the ration card, and Chandran scans the shop owner. His eyes constrict, so do Chandran’s. Finally, the shop owner pouts his lips in profound thoughts.

It now strikes Chandran that the job of a shop owner is not an easy task. This verification process is almost akin to an intellectual pursuit. On a second thought, he wonders whether there is anything wrong with the ration card. Hence, he folds his hands in the form of a ‘Namaste,’ and he asks,

“Anything wrong, Sir?”

He wakes up from his contemplative mood, and his glance again falls upon the ration card.

“There is nothing wrong. In fact, it is perfect.” He confirms. With a solemn silence, he scratches his head. Soon one or two drops of tears appear in his eyes. Since Chandran is a very sensitive person, it is natural that an empathetic film of tear takes shape in his eyes too. But he controls himself.

“I wish I had a wedding photograph of this kind. I got married some thirty years back. But I have no photographs. How sad!” The shop keeper regrets. He is on the verge of a whimper.

Chandran snatches the ‘ration card’ and looks at. A just-married couple returns a captivating smile! The ‘ration card’ has nothing else in it!

“What happens to my one litre kerosene now?” With grave concern, he asks.

The shop keeper recovers from his sorrows. He spreads his hands in utter helplessness and then states,

“True, the book that you have brought identifies itself as a ‘ration card.’ Unfortunately, this won’t suffice. What I want is the original ration card with all its pages intact.”

Chandran steps back and retreats! Let him go to Leeloppol to find out where the original is!

*********