He was allowed to sit in the verandah at most not indoors
He was poor Tattamma's grandson, yet a timid little boy
He was unwell that day, Tattamma had to get him medicines
He cried as he watched his school bus pass by
At a distance, he missed Joseph uncle and David uncle
They would ferry him with the kids to school
He was also their favourite little kid
Holy Family, Alathur ah! The memories are fresh from thirty nine years ago
He always stood before the school assembly
He was always loved, everyone would be with him
Bombay Raju was happy, he was happiest at school
As the bus arrived, he would wait for Tattamma,
He would run into her waiting arms, as for dosaa and panjasara
She would sometimes be late, he would always wait at the bus stop
He knew she would always rush to take him back home
Kavasseri still remains the same, he remembers the village well
He remembers the three surrounding temples
He remembers the ponds and the river
He often visits the place now, searching for his childhood
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