Adam Ayub is a well-known cine artiste with multi-dimensional talents in his field. He is also a good writer. This is an extract from his autobiography. The filmography of Adam Ayub is given separately. He graduated from Ernakulam Maharajas College in 1972 and joined the film Institute in Madras. After passing my diploma, I worked in the film Industry for about 10 years, before switching over to television when doordarshan started operation.
He has no other profession, but does several jobs in the media .
He writes articles in English and Malayalam, and teaches
cinema at various Media Institutes. He is also an actor and screenplay writer.
He directs documentaries, serials and spots.
He translates Films and serials from different languages into Malayalam, and vice versa.
He says he is not a psychologist, but according to him, teaching is a psychological process , particularly acting, screenplay writing and direction, where you have no prescribed textbooks to follow. It is a sort of a psychological treatment, teaching the art and craft of film making.
Ever since he passed out from the Film Institute in 1975, he had been working in the film industry as Associate director and in very few films as actor. When Doordarshan was first established in Kerala, he switched over to Television. Now he is very active in the media doing the following things.

Fallen Leaves

Chapter-2

The sojourn in Bangalore cost me one year of my academic life. Though I had passed the seventh standard from Bangalore, I was not admitted to the 8th standard in Kerala, due to the discrepancy in the school years in Kerala and Karnataka. Akber and I were to study in the same class. This was a great shame to me, as it would appear to others that I had failed. I was heart-broken. Finally I was admitted to the SRV high school in Ernakulam, while Akbar joined the old Haji Essa high school in Mattancherry. After our return from Bangalore, we had rented a house near mahallarappalli in mattancherry. Since father’s money used to come every month; we had a fairly better life. I remember the rent for the house was Rs 18 per month. We had an account (pattu) in the grocer’s shop. We settled his accounts monthly.

While I was in high school, my mother’s cousin brother came to visit us from Connoor. It is a hill station near Ootty. He offered to take me and Akbar to Connoor for the vacation. We were thrilled. The nights were cold there even in summer. Fog used to descend in the evenings. It was very pleasant to walk in the fog. It was a big joint family comprising uncle’s many brothers and their mother. The youngest of the brothers was Babu. Though he was a couple of years older than me, he was the darling and pet of everybody, being the youngest in the family. Everyday, after lunch, he used to disappear, and come back after some time. I asked him several times where he went. But he never gave a convincing reply. One day I insisted I will go with him. Initially he refused to take me; but finally relented. We went to a narrow byline. Then he took out a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it. I was surprised. He was only a small boy! He made me promise that I will not tell anybody.
Thereafter I used to accompany him daily on his ‘smoking breaks’. I used to watch him with admiration when he blew smoke through his nose. I really enjoyed the smell. On the fourth day, I could not resist the temptation. When he was about to throw away the cigarette butt after finishing, I said eagerly: - “No, don’t throw it away!”
He looked at me in surprise. Hesitatingly I extended my hand and took the cigarette butt from his hand and smoked it. I was slightly apprehensive of his reaction, for he was my elder brother. But he took a new cigarette from his pocket and offered me. He was happy that he had a companion in sin. I said hastily: - “No, no, I just wanted to see how it tastes”
From the next day onward, we smoked independent cigarettes. One day as we were coming down the steps of the market after finishing our cigarettes, one of my uncles was going up. He was very fond of me. As soon as we met on the steps he hugged me. He suddenly pushed me away, smelling cigarette in my breath. He was shocked! He let me go then, but confronted me later at home. Though he was himself a smoker, he advised me against taking up that habit at such a young age. He made me promise that I will never smoke again. Though I broke that promise, I never really was fascinated with smoking and gave up the habit on my own. The uncle, who made me promise, later died of cancer at a young age. May that had a telling effect on me

The ferry service between mattancherry and Ernakulam was the cheapest mode of transport. Even that was free for students. We were issued free monthly passes. The boat jetties both at Mattancherry and Ernakulam were far from home and school respectively. So I had to walk long distances daily. This continued for four years till I passed S.S.L.C.

I was very shy and timid by nature. But I was the class monitor. Every Friday afternoons we had class meetings, which were conducted by the class monitor. Those days I was under the impression that I was a good singer. It is true that I liked hindi songs and knew almost all the songs by heart. I was an avid listener of Radio Ceylon. Ameen Sayani’s Binaaca Geeth Mala was one of my favorite programs. I used to sing in the class meetings. My class mates used to urge me to sing. Now I realize they were pulling my leg. We used to have morning assembly. Many students used to faint standing in the hot sun for long. In the evenings National Anthem was sung through the public address system before terminating the classes. May be my reputation as a singer had reached the headmaster’s ears, because I was called to sing the National Anthem daily. At ten minutes before the final bell, the peon used to come with a chit from the headmaster asking the class teacher to spare my services. As the headmaster did not know to operate the public address system, he asked me to do that also. Frankly I knew nothing about the damn thing. So I tagged my friend Venugopal along. He taught me how to operate the sound system. Later both of us became permanent fixtures in the evening National Anthem singing function. Venugopal was no better than me in singing. But nobody complained. Because everybody was in a hurry to go home and they were eager to get it over with soon.

S.R.V.High School was a boy’s high school. It still is. But it was the only school in Ernakulam to have Tamil medium. So girls were also admitted in the Tamil medium. I was in the English medium class. The Tamil students were to sit in our class for the English and Hindi classes. There were three girls in the tamil medium.They were the only girls in the entire school, among thousands of boys. Naturally the girls were very shy and timid and did not interact with the boys. One girl was a brahmin, one a Christian and the other a muslim. I remember their names even today. They were Meenakshi, Christy and Najma.
Najma was the better looking among the three. I developed a crush for her. As I was very fond of Hindi films and hindi songs, I used to imagine myself as the hero and Najma as the heroine,whenever I listen to Hindi romantic songs on the radio. This was when I was in the eighth standard. The school leader was Rajan, a handsome guy from the tenth standard. He was also the under officer (or whatever they used to call the leader) in the NCC. He used to look very smart in his uniform. I envied him. I did not get selection in the NCC, as I had a very frail body. Some days I used to go to the nearby woodlands hotel for lunch. One day when I went for lunch, I heard a giggle from the family cabin. I peeped through the half door. I had the shock of my life. Rajan and Najma were munching ice ream. That was the end of my first love story.

Once there was a students’ strike. That was the first strike in which I participated. There was no politically affiliated students union in our school. I don’t even remember the reason for the strike. All I remember is that a student leader from outside came to our school to lead our march from the school to some government office. That man was a college student. He was a short man. He came on a cycle. We came to understand his name was A.K.Antony and he was the leader of the Kerala Students Union. It was a very peaceful march. I don’t remember any slogans we shouted. But another strike, a violent one, still vivid in my memory is the one I witnessed, when I was a student of the primary class in Haji Essa High chool in Mattancherry.

I was studying in class two. The agitation lasted several days. The agitators used to march on the road in front of our school, shouting slogans. Sometimes they used to enter the classrooms and the classes were dispersed. The students were always looking forward to their arrival. Their slogans were sung like a song in chorus.

Angamali kallarayil, Nammude sodararundengil
Aa Sodararane kattayam, pakaram njangal chodikkum.

(We vow to avenge the death of our brothers, who are lying in the cemeteries of Angamaly)
Later I came to know that, it was a state wide agitation. In fact I was witnessing the historic
Liberation struggle to oust the first elected communist government of the world; the government
Led by communist veteran EMS Namboothirippad.

When I was in the final year at the school, I decided to enter the fray for the election of the student chairman of the school. I submitted my nomination papers. As the day of the election drew near, there were a total of twelve candidates for the post. The headmaster had an idea. He announced that, on the Election Day, he will give each candidate five minutes to speak in the morning assembly, through the public address system. I was crestfallen. I did not have the courage to face the mammoth assembly, let alone speak. It was a different matter, singing the National Anthem, when all the students were in the classes. No body saw me. They only heard my voice. I was sure I could not make a speech. But there was no backing out now. I ran to my Malayalam teacher. He was a bald man, very much feared by the students. He was a regular “pan”-chewer. (Betel leaves and aricanut). After lunch, he used to send me to buy “pan” for him. So I had a good rapport with him. I told him I wanted a speech. He said “why didn’t you come early? I have already written speech for ten candidates”. I pleaded with him “Sir, you can’t leave me in the lurch. I had been buying pan…” “Alright alright” he interrupted. He tore out a paper from my notebook and scribbled a few words and gave it to me. “You will have to make do with this.”
There was not much time left for the assembly to begin. I tried to mug up the lines. I was so frantic that nothing entered my head. Then the headmaster’s voice boomed over the speaker.

“The first candidate to address you is Mr. Adam Ayub.” I had always prided that alphabetically my name lead the rest. But today I cursed my name, and tottered on to the stage. I was sweating profusely. I stood before the microphone. I could feel about three thousand eyes on me. There was pin drop silence. I opened my mouth. No voice came out. Everybody was waiting with bated breath. “F r i e n d s…” I croaked. But nobody heard anything. My voice was choked. Headmaster had instructed that nobody should exceed five minutes. I did not exceed even one minute. I finished mumbling, ran backstage and almost fainted. But I was glad the ordeal was over. Then the other ten candidates followed. They had all mugged up the speech written by the ‘Malayalam Sir’. At least they were audible. I was the worst. Then came the twelfth candidate.
He was very confident of himself. He folded his hands and said ‘Namaskaram’ to the audience. Then he started speaking. “You might have seen the notices printed by the other candidates.

I come from a very poor family. I have no money to print notices. So I appeal to you from my heart. If you consider me worthy enough, please vote for me…” He spoke for more than five minutes. Actually the headmaster was so engrossed in his speech, that he forgot to the press the bell after the expiry of the stipulated time. He won the election hands down. I did not give up. I took part in the school anniversary fancy dress competition. I made up myself as an Anglo-Indian lady and walked across the stage swaying my hips and won second price. (Thankfully there was no dialogue.) That was the least I could do.