Yours in exasperation for the final time: Farewell from Mr. Mathrubootham

How many letters? I think... minimum 150 letters. Maybe 170 letters. Letter about Dr. Shankaramenon and Mr. Modi. Letter about Mr. Prathapan and television. Letter about Mohammad Usman and biryani. So many so many letters

November 28, 2020 04:04 pm | Updated November 28, 2021 01:44 pm IST

Illustration: Getty Images/ iStock

Illustration: Getty Images/ iStock

Respected Madam/Sir,

Like that like that, time is come for conclusion of Mathrubootham letters. Kamalam is sitting here itself. She is sitting on chair and looking full of sentiments. She is also saying please finish writing fast, packing company is due. And one almirah that is not opened since Morarji Desai period is still waiting for unpacking. What and all is inside god only knows.

Madam/ Sir, how many letters we are now sending each other? Let me check one second please. Oh my god, madam/sir, since February 2017 letter is being written to the esteemed newspaper from the desk of Mr. J. Mathrubootham. Once a week since February 2017 I am writing letter means how many letters? Ok in-between holiday and all was there. I am also human being. Whether like Prime Minister I can work nonstop morning to night with only ten-minute lunch break with peacock?

So ok. How many letters? I think... minimum 150 letters. Maybe 170 letters. Letter about Dr. Shankaramenon and Mr. Modi. Letter about Mr. Prathapan and television. Letter about Mohammad Usman and biryani. So many so many letters. So many good memories are coming now. Some bad memories are also coming. And then last one year what is the one memory? Non-stop coronavirus memory only.

Worst year this 2020. Karumam of all karumam years. Whole day sitting at home doing nothing. And going out means mask. But where is the mask? Is it behind the door? Pant pocket? Top of TV? Where is mask? Spend half hour looking for mask or do evening walk in balcony only? Better go to balcony. This is the 2020.

 

But madam/ sir at least we are able to write letters to each other. Whether employees of your esteemed newspaper are enjoying my letters? Or whether they are celebrating in the office with rose milk and ras malai shouting Eureka! He has stopped sending letters, thank you Tirupati Balaji, Mother Mary, Allah etc.? How dare these people are talking like this? Someone throwing water bottles in Tok Tok means aha-oho. One old man sending Wren and Martin style letter about retirement and gas cylinder, Suhasini and Ganga Sweets means old-fashioned.

Defending traditions

This is the problem with whole country. Whether any respect for traditions? Nothing. This is why one poor Mr. Mathrubootham is writing letters every week. Otherwise who will protect all habits and customs and cultures of the Jambuvan period?

Madam/ Sir, first of all I want to say thank you for reading this old man’s letters. Sometimes letter is having complaints. Sometimes it is having stories. Sometimes it is totally useless. But every week you are reading nicely and putting it in newspaper. It is a wonderful.

Second of all, I want to say thank you to all readers. Sometimes my son is making me see online how readers are putting comments and all underneath the letter. To all people putting good comments I say hearty thank you. Old man is very happy. To all people putting bad comments I am saying go and get lost. Whether newspaper is your father’s? If you don’t like you read something else, hello you are putting promise in temple or what that you will read Mathrubootham, please give me lottery? Muttaals .

Third of all, I want to say thank you to Mrs. Mathrubootham. Without Kamalam support and patience whether even one letter will come to your office? Never never never. In fact, please give me two minutes to tell you about how she is supporting and encouraging and helping and...

Ok, she is saying if I don’t finish letter now she will ask mover and packer to throw out all Alistair MacLean novels.

Whether a man can get any peace of mind in this world? Never.

Yours in exasperation

for the final time,

J. Mathrubootham

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