Aleyamma Koshy, 80, who has rented out a part of her home, is not that depressed. At least she feigns so. Her son is doing well in the Gulf, but it's a grandson in the US who communicates with her and sends money. Her room is cheerfully decorated, with birthday cards from her great-granddaughters, and family photographs on the wall. Aggrieved that her son doesn't ring up? "No, not at all," she mumbles.
Pathanamthitta district has the second highest number of emigrants in Kerala, with 44.3 emigrants per every 100 households, most of whom are highly skilled and earn good incomes abroad. (Malappuram has the highest number, with 45 per every 100 households, but the majority of these are unskilled labour).
Not far from the Fellowship Hospital in Kumbanad is a mansion in which an 80-year-old woman lives alone. The manicured lawn, the silver cutlery and the airconditioners belie the decrepitude of the mansion's owner. Lying on a waterbed, she has refused food and water all day. Dr Jacob George, in charge of the mobile service attached to the Fellowship Hospital, is on call, but there's nothing much that man or machine can do for her now.
Pathanamthitta also has the largest proportion of 60-to-80-year-olds of any district in the state. But dollar remittances from their children abroad are cold comfort for the lonely old parents.
In this gloomy scenario, 96-year-old C.M. Mathew Chempothukalayil sparkles with impish wit and true grit. His prized possession is a vintage bicycle. "Two weeks ago, I pedalled up to Kozhencherry town," he chuckles, "and, ah, the doc has asked me not to do that again. He says my faculties are intact but our roads may not cope!"
Every day, Mathew scours his favourite Malayala Manorama page to page, and enjoys watching TV serials. The old man is ready to entertain the visitor with schoolboy quotes. He reels off in fast pace: "Matriculation examination is a botheration for the Hindu nation (sic) who lives on the shores of the Indian Ocean, whose sole occupation is cultivation". Mathew draws his breath and adds: "This is what I got from school more than 75 years ago, when the British were still breathing down our necks." But in the midst of this joviality, his eyes well with tears as he recalls the death of his wife three months back. His eldest son is 73 years old and lives in Mumbai. His other children are in the US. And the secret of his youthful spirits and energy? "No smoke, no drinks and good food. My mother died at 102 years. So the last mile is still a long way off for me, eh?"