In the end they decided to split up.At the time of divorce I was only eight. My father took me with him and my mother started living with her parents ...n her native town. She belonged to a middle class family of Kerala. My father soon married a Muslim woman but it was no solace for me as she was not kind to me. I yearned for my real mother. It was not until I was nineteen that I saw her again.My father died suddenly when I was nineteen. My stepmother went back to live with her family and I was. Abbu at this point turned on his heel and fled the room. I was so embarrassed; I did not know what to do next, but I quickly regained my senses, had a quick shower, dressed and nervously made my way to the kitchen to where I knew Abbu would be. He was sat at the dining table drinking his tea as I entered and averted his eyes as not to meet mine. To say the next couple of days were a bit awkward would be an understatement, but we managed to get through the weekend and on Monday morning Abbu. More

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