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Sayonara, woman Friday (Prof. Sreedevi Krishnan)

Published on 24 January, 2021
Sayonara, woman Friday  (Prof. Sreedevi Krishnan)
Daniel Defoe, in his famous Novel, 'Robinson Crusoe,' immortalizes the  'Master-Servant' relationship between Crusoe and his man Friday. No doubt,  the major ingredient for this loyal, trusted, and ideal relationship between  Crusoe and his man Friday is indispensability. It is strange but true that in  this modern society where, leave alone the indispensability of servants, but  the very concept of a servant, is an anachronism.  
In my country, India, the memsahibs - be it career-women or housewives  with the fancy title of ''homemakers", lean heavily on their 'woman' Fridays.  Call them what you like- Ayah, Nanny,Bhai or servant maid, - women- Fridays  are the epicenter of the Indian household and keep it from falling apart. 

Exaggeration? No..it's nothing but the truth, based on my experience. The  weekly, much-awaited, Whatsapp chats from my relatives and friends have  stopped completely now. No, not due to Covid 19, but because of the absence of  women Fridays. Even before the pandemic, my call from here should be  adjusted to the timings of their part-time maids, as each maid allots  different times for their work. They work a minimum of three houses ...all  adjusting to the working time of their memsahibs! 

Despite the progress and liberation of women, India is still a  male-dominated society, adhering to Manusmrithi's Principle of the  traditional role of a woman as a girl, wife, and mother, necessitating the  dependence of women on men. True, times have changed and now the role  of a man as the sole bread-winner of a family is only rare, as more and more  women take up jobs. But, in spite of the  gender- equalityfeminists claim, women   are still second class citizens as far as a household is concerned. And It  is humanly impossible for any woman to do the multi-tasking of office- work,

cooking ( to enter the heart of the 'Lord and master' of the house ), looking  after the children, and keeping the house clean. Naturally, to keep their  sanity, women have to depend on this servant class.So,in India,   'Indispensability, thy name is women Friday" ( my apologies to Shakespeare! ) 

Frankly, I was entirely new to the work culture of the part-time woman  Friday, till I had settled in Chennai, South India. 

In my childhood growing up in Kerala, we had very loyal, loving, and caring  servants. They lived with us and were treated like family members. They  cooked our favorite dishes, played with us, and even told bed-time stories to  us. I, vividly remember how I used to stay awake with my ' Meenuma' (  respectful addressing of Meenakshi Amma) on UthradaRathry', the night  before Onam festival, frying Nenthrakkaichips, cutting vegetables, and  scraping coconuts for OnamSadyathe next day.  
On Onam day, after cooking, Meenuma would bathe me, dress me up in my  Onakkodyfrock, comb my unruly, ear-length hair, skillfully entangle in it a malaof fresh and fragrant jasmine buds, generously apply powder to my  face, and put a chandanakurion my forehead. Then she would kiss me and  call me EnteSundarykutty, though my pride would be mercilessly shattered  by the clapping, laughing of my neighbors, Gracy, Leela, and her brother  Thankacchan, calling me names like vellapattaand circus  clown, looking  at my freshly,over- sparkling white- washed face.
After dressing me for the occasion, she would  up  in a Zaribordered  Munduneriyathuand brush her curly, long hair with a knot at the very end of  it, adorn it with the leftover jasmine buds and take leave from a wailing me,  assuring me that she would return soon but that she had to rush to receive  'the spirit of King Mahabali', who returns every Onam to visit the rich and the   poor alike in their own homes.

Then wiping her tears, she would run off to  the bus stop without looking back…………
Later, when I got married to a Naval Officer I moved to Mumbai for a while.  Thanks to the demand for space in Mumbai, the 'servant quarters' thatcame attached to our Naval officers' quarters, I was never short of domestic  help. True, they could never be compared to my Meenuma, but then again  ,they were far superior to my ' Chennai' maids that I had to endure later in  life.
 
When my husband left the Indian Navy and joined the Merchant Marine as a  Captain, I had to come to Chennai for children's schooling and continuing my career.
In the '70s in Chennai, I had to face great deal of ethnic discrimination in  getting an apartment, which continues even now. Brahmins would not let out their houses to non Brahmins. One Brahmin landlady took 6 months advance rent from me but  just a day prior to my moving into the home, she politely asked me to meet  her husband who just returned from overseas, saying that he had to meet  me to finalize the rental agreement.  
So, leaving all my packing (of cooking utensils and crockery) to my  seven-year-old daughter, I went to meet the landlord. A pan- chewing,  bare-bodied man with a prominently visible, off-whitePoonoolon his chest.  He surveyed me with scrutinizing eyes and asked me to sit down. Then  without any preliminaries, he said," Sorry, Ma'm, my wife made a mistake  and I can not let out my house to a single young lady'. Aghast, I replied that I  am not single, have two children and my husband is a Captain of a ship.  
Turning his grin into inaudible laughter, he asked unabashedly " What are  your eating habits ?". Though I instantly understood the meaning of what he  had asked from the rejection of two previous landlords before, I said ' Oh!  Do I look like a cannibal? Well, I have normal food habits- breakfast, lunch,  tiffin and dinner" 

Suddenly, an ugly frown clouded up his face. Throwing his pretense of  civility to the winds, he thundered, ' You certainly know what I mean. My  wife took you for a vegetarian. Sorry, please leave. I'm in a hurry to meet my  client'
The next day my eldest sister-in-law, as old as my mother, came to visit me.  Listening to my humiliating experience my sister-in-law, who was not only a  vegetarian but also a strict, orthodox Iyengar (she did not touch even garlic  and onions!), promised to get a house for me. 

Believe it or not, the very next day, my sister-in-law handed me the key to an  apartment in the same Brahmin locality, where I was rejected by the  Advocate.  
In shocking disbelief, I heard my sister in law's narration of how she won  over these landlords, who were an old Brahmin couple. The old couple was  highly impressed by my sister in law in her red kanjeevarammadisaracoming from an illustrious family background. Though initially, she did not  mention her brother's ( my husband's) familywas non- vegetarian, later when  my sister in law mentioned the good-natured old couple brushed it aside and dismissed my disqualification  saying they were only interested in getting honest tenants who paid their  rent regularly.  
Next week, my soon -to be- neighbors witnessed a short-haired lady in a different  attire ( from their's), with two small kids, unloading things from the car.  They were curious onlookers but no one came forward and offered any help!  Even when they saw me carrying heavy suitcases to the very narrow veranda  single-handedly… !  
 The next day, very early in the morning, I was woken up by the loud,  persistent knock on the front door. I dragged myself to open the door.  Behold.. there was a dark middle-aged woman with a charming smile, She  greeted me and said that her name was Bhavani . She was my landlord's  part-time maid and was willing to work for me.  
That was the beginning of my association with this new generation of  Chennai women Fridays! 

Though started as a part-time maid, she stayed on till late at night and  helped me in cooking too. But, on Sundays, she could not come because she  has to cook and tend to her alcoholic husband's drinking party with a couple  of his friends.Bhavani was fond of children and enjoyed the weekly Tamil movie on our  new black and white TV. She even brought her friends to watch TV in our  home. Bhavani also used to confide in me about how her husband used to  beat her up and take away all the money. And how, at last, due to her  prayers and a red-robed Godman's blessings, she managed to get her  16-year-old daughter married off to her own brother without dowry(Yes,  even now in Tamilnadu- uncles can marry their own nieces) She even  entrusted me with a part of her salary to make a gold chain for her  granddaughter. I was aghast to know that this grandmother Bhavani was a  year, younger than me! After about six months Bhavani's was elevated from  maid to a sort of friend and confidante, which was something similar to  Robinson Crusoe and man Friday. 

When I got 600 Rs for a short story based on Bhavani's gossip, I gifted her a  PattuSareeand a slight rise in her pay. This gradually led to our extended  gossip sessions, and ( perhaps an inspiration for me to churn out more  stories!).  
Though I flatly refused to visit the red- robed ,teacher turned ' God-man', with devotees all over the world, Bhavaniused to narrate this chaami'smiracles. Bhavani told me about the miracle that happened to my milk- lady Chandanam. Chandanamwas the entire locality's milkwoman ( the  woman who collects milk from the milk booth to supply in the apartments),  She was an ugly, cleft- lipped old woman with a speech defect. But,being a regular,loyal devotee of the God- man, one day she  received an anonymous gift of gold coins.'who would've done this miracle except Chaammi who brought gold and silver articles from the air? Chandanam was Chaami's servant for years,when when he was just anelementary School teacher)

Lucky Chandanam bought a house and began a pawn business of lending money for an  exorbitant interest. I was surprised to know from Bhavani that all my milk- woman's heavy  jewelry- the broad necklace,, bangles, and ear studs and nose rings on both  sides of the nose, were real gold ,not  fake!!!

Days slip into weeks and weeks into months. Then, one morning I came back  after dropping off my children in their school. I was shocked to see an  inconsolably crying Bhavani inside my room. The moment she saw me, she  started beating her chest and wailing louder.  I suspected some horrible tragedy in her daughter's family and waited  patiently for her to calm down. After about a few minutes, she cleared her  throat and said,' Amma, my purushanhas eloped with that milkwoman" 

Controlling my sudden urge to guffaw at this most unexpected turn of  events, I said "Cm'on, Bhavani, you got rid of your alcoholic abusive, good -for  -nothing husband, we should celebrate this by getting Chinese dinner from  the restaurant "  Wiping her tears, I heard uBhavani aggressively defending a husband's right  to abuse his wife ' Amma, kallanaalumkanavan, pullaanaalumpurushan", 

(A saying in Tamil which means a husband is a husband even if he is a stone  or grass!!) Though I ignored this as a philosophy of the poor, working-class,  in a week's time, I realized that in India, even in the upper strata of Society, an abused wife, physically or mentally, would defend her husband  vehemently ( as proved by the infamous case of the handsome married  Bollywood actor Shiny Ahuja raping his maid) Anupam Ahuja held press meets, bringing her entire neighborhood to gather and to prove the  innocence of her husband. Also during the trial, a grief-stricken Anupam  appeared with a placard,' I LOVE YOU', SHINEY'. Huh! What if Ahuja lost his  case and film career, his wife is proved to be a pure ' BharatiyaNari' 

Similarly, in the Ruchira molestation case, the advocate who defended the  police bigwig Rathore, was Mrs Rathore, the accused's ,loyal wife!  
A couple of days later, after her Tuesday  visit to Ashram, Bhavani displayed her  new brilliant yellow thread with mangalsutraand a square piece of Turmeric  with kumkumand bindi , as Chaami'sremedy for her husband's safe return  and long life. For doing special puja and the yellow thread, Chaamicharged  only 100 Rs! 

Bhavani was overjoyed at Chaamis prediction that her husband would soon  return to her but her happiness was short-lived as the gossip spread that  Bhavani'spurushanwas marrying Chandanam. Bhavani cried, cursed  Chandanam's black magic which endeared her purushanwho was just 32 to  Chandanam, a positively ugly in her mid sixty.
Strangely, a vindictive Bhavani constantly cursed Chandanam and justified  herloving,loyalpurushan, an innocent victim of strong black magic.And the scorn woman's fury,love to her husband,tremendous faith in God- man increased to a ridiculous extent.And  much to my annoyance,shestarted visiting herGod twice ,Tuesday and Thursday in blood red sari,a real eye- sore like her Red- dhothi clad Chaaami .
At last, one night Bhavani's husband reappeared on the scene, much to her  relief. A jubilant wife  received her repentant purushanreturned to her with  sweets, flowers, white- stone and of course promises of his 'eternal love and everlasting fidelity' like Florentino Ariza to FeminaDazza in  'Love in  the Time of Cholera.'  
The very next morning, an over-joyed Bhavani celebrated the reunion  (A mma, didn't I tell you what Chaami predicted? Remember, he told me that  he will return within 41 days' of my wearing what Chammi gave after a days'  Puja? " she then took her mangal sutra and touched her eyes with extreme  reverence. 

When this Mardi Gras of Bhavani's life, an unrecognizable Chandanam in a  torn sari sans all her jewelry, unraveled her romance which cost all her  jewelry and money. She agreed they had a great time in Madurai, with  drinks, non-vegetarian food, sightseeing and watching movies. Once the  money was over, that saniyandumped her mercilessly near Meenakshi  temple and disappeared.
 
But soonBhavani would move out to another locality to start her new- found romantic life and my hunt for new woman Friday began... 

There was a new growing breed of part-time Fridays taking up as many as  four houses a day, doing less work for much higher pay, taking leave often,  and a day off in the middle of the week! 

I certainly missed my previous association with maids who were loyal,  lovable, and very friendly. 

But the addition of two more members to my family, Tommy, and Diana, a  Doberman couple made it almost impossible to get servants as everyone was  mortally afraid of the formidable look of my pets. So, I had to put up with a maximum of an hour's shoddy work of a maid, as I hated to tie down my  Tommy and Diana for more than an hour!  
Then, one morning, a good-looking woman with a bright green sari walked in  braving my pets, asking me whether she could take some coconut fronds  from the heap in my yard, for making brooms. Looking at my shocked face,  she told me she was not afraid of dogs, as she grew up with dogs and loved  them. 

I was ecstatic when Rani agreed to work for me, without the knowledge of  her prosperous, painter husband, for extra money for Pattusarees and  jewelry Rani was the most suitable name for her, clad in bright-colored  synthetic- sari,matching accessories etc, the good- looking maid looked every inch  a Rani. She made it very clear that she did not want tea or any type of food  from my house because she wants only cash. I was impressed by the way she  did things methodically. As soon as she came, she changed into a housecoat,  finish housework in a jiffy but neatly and then, go to the shade of my  backyard Gulmohar tree for her broom- making. Some times, I too watched  with admiration and even envy, how Rani's skill and dexterity in turning the  fronds into beautiful brooms. Rani used to accompany me during my  shopping and buy for herself, exactly what I bought, mutton, chicken,  kingfish.

Rani's business progressed tremendously because of the availability of coconut fronds from my 15 trees and  many customers from  the club, nearby Schools, and apartments. The heap of waste coconut leaves  which Rani threw near my gate was an embarrassment to me as friends and  neighbors started calling me the owner of the' broom factory'. But, I stoically  bore this, because by then I was so much used to this perfect life with my  woman Friday 

Then one day Rani came, crying uncontrollably. I was mentally preparing  myself for another husband-eloping story even though Rani had portrayed  her husband as a teetotaler, loving and generous husband whose only  problem was his possessive nature resulting in the occasional beating. From Rani, I learned a Tamil saying ' Adikirra kai thaanannaikkum', meaning 'Only  the beating hands would caress'  
Suddenly words tumbled out from Rani along with the liberal flow of tears.  The Police arrested her innocent husband for stealing ...She wanted me to  save him from police custody as I could convince the Police by telling them  that he served me as a night watchman. It was of course a half-truth as he  used to sleep on my veranda when I traveled out of state from time to time,  to Kerala. Further, he allowed his wife to 'help me out' with all these  household chores. Though extremely reluctant, I was rather forced to go to  the Police station when Rani's initial request tone was replaced by a  threatening hint of leaving my work. 

In the Police station, seated on a chair and sipping the 'Police tea' , I  expressed my anger towards police brutality towards my honest, sincere  watchman, a painter with a decent income.
 
The earlier frown on the Police Officer's face turned into a broad smile (  Aha. My eloquence has desired effect, I thought to myself) He told Rani to go  away as he had to clarify certain matters from me.  
When Rani left, the Officer took me to the adjacent room where Ganesh,  Rani's husband,was questioned. I could not believe my ears when I  overheard him rattling the names of his accomplices, the locality, number  and addresses of the looted houses, and the list of stolen articles, Color TV,  gold and silver articles, motor. Cycles etc  
Apologizing to the police officer profusely for my interference, I rushed  home to share with Rani, the shocking news of her husband's extracurricular  activities. Fiercely defending her husband she blamed his jealous, jobless  painters and neighbors for the false allegations. Not satisfied with this, she  had  the audacity to call me 'ungratefulis this  the way you repay me for doing your work ,giving you my brooms free,  for accompanying you for shopping and even doing your menial work ,when none enters your house due to your filthy dogs?) Rani yelled ……..

To my utter grief, tongue-tied, I handed over the amount she demanded as  her pay and watched an enraged Rani storming out of my house and out of  my world!  
Then came Selvi a terribly squint-eyed, thin, young woman Selvi filled the  gnawing gap of Rani. Wiry, but extremely energetic and speedy, Selvi was an  excellent worker. sitting on haunches, she would swab all my rooms to a  perfect shine. She learned to operate the washing machine and other  electric gadgets. She starched and ironed my cotton saris with lightning  speed. As she was an eighth-grade school drop out, she could speak English  too. But, the only problem was her time allotted to my work. She had to  work full time in a Ceylonese house not only cooking but all other work too.  So, she could attend to my work only between 2and 3 pm and between 7  and 8 pm.
After watching Selvi's most impressive work and her love towards me  (you  are my mother, though I have only a vague memory of her, she was as fair as  you ) I thought my adjustment to her time was only a small price to pay  for her excellent work .
Listening to her sob story of being married off to an old widower,by  her  distant uncle, her husband died   by falling from a coconut tree.

 Thus orphaned, she managed to join the  Ceylonese family who lent her 5,000 Rs for repairing her one-room thatched  hut. Now she had to repay this loan and the pay she gets from, me was just  enough to pay the interest for the loan. 

Kindled by my old passion for Karl Marx, intolerance to injustice and  inequality,( also the young lady is not allowed to wear bright colors ,flowers on their hair ,wear bangles ,fancy jewelry,or even bindi ban on participating in functions etc, proclaiming her 'widow' status , I became generous to a fault, gave her the discarded, flashy  sarees of my daughter, gifted her with bangles and multi-colored bangles , though) gave her nutritious food, etc etc. Guilted  by my own comfortable life while Selvi had to toil the whole day, on one  sleepless night, my feverish brain solved Selvi's money problem. I gave her  an advance of 5,000 Rs, on the condition that Selvi would join me as a  full-time maid... no, as a family member... like my Meenuma of Kottayam. 

When I handed over the cash, Selvi touched my feet and literally cried on my  shoulder
A few days later, Selvi came to tell me she could not work as she had  developed severe pain in her jaw. Refusing my offer to take her to the  Doctor,  she left, that night, in between groans and  grunts, that she informed me that she had 'mumps' and her only worry was how I was  going to manage to do all the work without her assistance.  
After more than a weeks' waiting about Selvi's news, I thought I would  enquire about Selvi. Suddenly, a horrifying realization came to me that I did  not know her address except she worked in the Ceylonese house whose  address I never knew either.  
While re-living the scene of my giving 5,000 Rs, I remembered she had  brought me some fruits and said it.. was her Offering to her SreeDevi  Goddess( me! ) Also, Selvi had mentioned that the fruit vendor, a charming  old woman was shocked to know about my incredible generosity of giving a  maid such a huge amount within a fortnight of her appointment 

So with great difficulty, I managed to find this fruit- vendor, who had an  entirely different story. She did not know anything about our financial  transaction, Selvi's real name was Mahalakshmi, who lived with her  paramour, a smuggler who was in and out of Jail frequently!......................

In India, stay at home wives are very rare. More and more women take up  jobs to share the financial burden of their husbands. But, that does not  mean that husbands share their household chores. It is a pity Indian men  imitate the west, celebrate Valentine's Day, Mothers Day, and Father's day,  but they do not lend a helping hand in cooking or cleaning or with the  feeding or changing nappies of their newborns.
 
This Pandemic is the ideal time for Indian men to realize their responsibility  and start taking an active part in household chores. And it's time they take a  cue from the husband of Kamala Harris the first female and half Indian Vice  President of the United States, who gave up his job to assist his Wife in her  vice- Presidential duties!
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Thuppan Namboothiri 2021-01-26 01:51:03
നോം തുപ്പൻ നമ്പൂതിരി. ഇല്ലത്തെ സ്വത്തൊക്കെ പുതിയ പുതിയ നിയമങ്ങൾ വന്നു നഷ്ടപ്പെടാൻ തുടങ്ങിയപ്പോ ഇംഗളീഷ് പഠിക്കേണ്ടി വന്നു. അതുകൊണ്ട് ഇപ്പോൾ സോഷ്യൽ മീഡിയയിൽ ഒന്ന് ചുറ്റിക്കറങ്ങാമെന്നായി. അപ്പോൾ അതാ അമേരിക്കയിൽ നിന്ന് ഒരു മലയാളം പത്രം ഇ-മലയാളി. അതിശയാണെ..എന്താ കഥാ .. ഇതാപ്പോ നന്നായത് നാട്ടിലുള്ള ശുഭന്മാരെക്കൊണ്ട് എഴുതിക്കാതെ ഇവിടെയുള്ളവർ അങ്ങട് എഴുതാന്നേച്ചാൽ ബഹുവിശേഷായി. അങ്ങനെ നോക്കിയപ്പോൾ ശ്രീദേവി എന്ന് പേരുള്ള എഴുത്തുകാരി. നോമിന്റെ അന്തർജനത്തിന്റെ പേരാണെ, അതുകൊണ്ട് കൗതുകം ഉണ്ടായി. ഇംഗളീഷിലാണ് രചന. വീട്ടുജോലിക്ക് വേലക്കാരികളെ വച്ചതും ഭക്ഷണരീതികൊണ്ട് വാടക വീട് കിട്ടാനുണ്ടായ പൊല്ലാപ്പുകളും സരസമായിട്ട് അങ്ങട് വിസ്തരിച്ചിരിക്കുന്നു. ആ റോബിൻസൺ സായിപ്പിന്റെ കാര്യമൊന്നും പറയണ്ടായിരുന്നു. ഇല്ലത്ത് പണിചെയ്യാൻ വന്നിരുന്ന വൃഷലികളുമായി അസാരം ചുറ്റിക്കളികൾ അന്നത്തെ തിരുമേനിമാർ നടത്തിയെന്നു ചെറുപ്പത്തിൽ കേട്ടിട്ടുണ്ട്. നോമിന് അങ്ങനെ ഒരു അവസരം ഉണ്ടായിട്ടില്ല. അതുകൊണ്ട് വേലക്കാരികൾക്ക് ഏതെങ്കിലും ചുറ്റിക്കളികൾ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നോ എന്ന് നോം സശ്രദ്ധം നോക്കി. ഇല്ല അങ്ങനെയൊന്നുമില്ല. ഒരുത്തി പ്രൊഫസറുടെ കാശു ഒത്തിരി പറ്റിച്ച് പോയി. എന്താ ശ്രീദേവി അന്തർജ്ജനം പണം സൂക്ഷിക്കണ്ടേ. എന്തായാലും കറു കറുത്ത തമിഴത്തികൾ മഞ്ഞ ചരടിൽ താലി അണിയുന്നതും, കണവൻ അവൻ എന്ത് സപ്പനായാലും അവനെ പതിദേവനായി കൂട്ടുന്നതും, അവർക്കിടയിലെ മന്ത്രവാദങ്ങളും അങ്ങനെ നീട്ടി നീട്ടി എഴുതിയിട്ടുണ്ട്. ഭാഷയുടെ ഒഴുക്കുകൊണ്ട് കഥകളും ഉപകഥകളുമായി സംഭവങ്ങൾ ഉരുത്തിരിയുമ്പോൾ സാധാരണ തോന്നുന്ന മുഷിപ്പില്ലായിരുന്നു. ശ്രീദേവി അന്തർജ്ജനം അനുഭവകഥകളുടെ സാഗരം നീന്തി വരിക. നോം ഇവിടെ ഇങ്ങനെ കടാപ്പുറത്ത് കാറ്റുമേറ്റ് ഇരുന്നു കാത്തിരിക്കാം. നമ്മുടെ അടുത്ത് പ്രേമനൈരാശ്യം വന്ന ഒരു മേത്തൻ ഒരു ബംഗാളിയുടെ തൊണ്ടയിൽ കൂടി അവനെ തേച്ചിട്ട് പോയ ഏതോ അരയത്തിപ്പെണ്ണിനോട് അവനെ മരന്നുപോയോ എന്ന് സങ്കടപ്പെടുന്നുണ്ട്. അല്ലെങ്കിലും കടപ്പുറം എന്തെല്ലാം മായക്കാഴ്ചകൾ കാണിക്കുന്നു. തേവാരത്തിനു സമയമായി. ഈശ്വരോ രക്ഷതു.
Jyothylakshmy Nambiar 2021-01-26 18:19:26
Sreedevi madam has the art of changing mundane facts to extraordinary. She flavors her ideas with imagination and presents them to the readers with the touch of art.Searching for an apartment and finding domestic help are real struggle before we ensconce in a new place of our job posting.   Madam narrated them in detail without boring the readers.  
മലയാളത്തില്‍ ടൈപ്പ് ചെയ്യാന്‍ ഇവിടെ ക്ലിക്ക് ചെയ്യുക