A childhood photo triggers thoughts

By Shevlin Sebastian

Photos: From left: Shevlin Sebastian, Sony Kurian and Tony Mathew; View Master; Alexander Solzhenitsyn

The other day, my uncle Siby Sebastian put up a photo of a trio of three boys in our family WhatsApp group. It’s not that clear.

That’s me on the left, along with my cousins, Sony (middle) and Tony. It was strange to look at this younger self. I do not know why I am smiling. When and where was this photo taken? Who was the photographer? Was it my dad or an uncle? What is Tony eating? Is it a biscuit?

During childhood, I was one of the shortest in class. In school, for several years, I was called Mini. It was another word for a pocket version. Very few classmates remember that nickname now. Thank God for that. This is a rare photo of me smiling. Most of the time, I have shown an unsmiling face to the camera.

In childhood, I was shy. No words came out of my mouth. That was why later, I got attracted to writing. I only had to interact with a typewriter and, later, computer and laptop screens to deal with words. It is also why I loved reading. Through the words, I could hear the voices of the authors. I did not have to meet and interact with them. That seemed enough for me.

Sometimes, people give a picture of yourself which differs from your inner image.

Last year, when my aunt came down from the USA, she told me, “When you were a child, you were afraid of your father.” My aunt and her husband stayed in Jamshedpur (284 kms from Kolkata). They would come on the weekends and spend time with us in Kolkata.

It surprised me when she said that. I didn’t think I was afraid. I felt intimidated by my father, who had a serious demeanour. He only mellowed in his later years. But this was what my aunt felt, looking at me from the outside. So, maybe she was right.

I remember when a couple came to our house in Kochi a few years ago. The woman said, “We had come to Calcutta when you were a child and stayed at your home,” she said. “Once when I was leaving the room, you told me, ‘You must always switch off the light and fan when you leave the room.’ I never forgot that.”

Yes, I could have said it. I do not know who ingrained this habit in me. Was it my father or mother? It is true even now, decades later, when I leave a room, I ensure I switch off the light and fan. I have tried to pass this habit to my family. But they are a lot more casual about it.

And here is what my Kochi-based cousin Joseph G. Vadakel wrote about meeting me in an essay he wrote for a family booklet:

‘It was my first encounter with our young cousin, Shevlin. He was five years old. I found him to be a quiet, pleasant, and well-mannered boy. I still remember the red and sleek-looking ‘View Master’ he had. It was a gift from his uncle in the USA. He generously allowed me to look through it. There were spectacular 3D colour images of the Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon, the Pyramids, the Empire State Building, and the Hanging Gardens. It was beautiful.’

What we think of ourselves and what people think of us can be the opposite. 

This is what my mentor George Abraham, former Deputy Resident Editor of the New Indian Express, wrote in a pamphlet he brought out on his 75th birthday, on February 22, 2023, for his extended family.

‘There are people who can make us feel good and there are those who can make us feel bad with their mere presence. Shevlin belongs to the first category. That is an ability so valuable in these days of growing uncertainties, unrest, distress, frustrations and loneliness. Shevlin made me feel important enough to be written about.’

I was taken aback when George Sir pointed this out. Nobody has told me this before. 

So, is there anything about the child in the photo in the adult me?

For one, I enjoy being alone. In life, we have to play several roles: husband, father, son, sibling, cousin, professional, and a relative. It is nice not to do these roles once in a while.

What else? I have had a sweet tooth since childhood. That remains.

I have lost my temper on quite a few occasions. That has become much less, because age has mellowed me.

I remain slim, like my childhood, thanks to daily exercise and a careful diet.

Of course, the substantial change is mental. Nowadays, the inner journey interests me a lot. Who am I? What is my destiny? What happens after we die? Where are all the relatives who passed away? 

Do I have any original thoughts? This question has preoccupied me a lot.

Is my thinking based on my childhood indoctrination by school, parents, religion and the society that I lived in?

Are there any original thoughts in me?

The answer to this seems to be: nothing we say is original. Everything is a mix of our brainwashing, the reading we have done, the mentors who have influenced us and our interactions with people. We repeat what we have learnt. That’s the case with most people. 

The other aspect is the fear of inner darkness. Many people reject this concept of evil living in us. They don’t believe they have a dark side.

But this is what Nobel Prize-winning legendary writer Alexander Solzhenitsyn wrote in The Gulag Archipelago (1918-56): ‘If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere committing evil deeds, and it was necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who will destroy a piece of his own heart?’

Indeed, how true that is!

These were some of the thoughts that arose when I saw this childhood photo.