This is an English translation of Oothaa Nira Viralgal, a short story written by M. Gopala Krishnan. Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam.
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Even at the slightest movement of jaws, I could feel an
excruciating pain radiating from the skull. The corners of my ears were aching,
causing a burning sensation. I was still unable to understand why he slapped me
with such brute force. He smacked my cheeks before I could escape his punches,
as I didn’t even have any hint till the very last moment that he would give a
blow like that. The very moment I was beaten, my entire body shivered with
shock. It was a single room; the very thought of getting beaten subsequently
made me shudder with fear. After beating me, he left the place. I could feel
the blood streaking out at the corners of my lips, burning with pain, pungent
in taste while licking it with my tongue. Tears rolled down from the eyes and
fell upon my elbows. Victim of police brutality! If anyone had predicted a
couple of hours before that such a rare opportunity was waiting for me to get
beaten by the police, I wouldn’t have believed it. However, I would have gotten
frightened at it and could have done something of my best to avoid that
situation. But it was all over; I had gotten beaten now. ‘Was it the final
blow? Or will they beat me whenever they want? My body is so frail that it
wouldn’t be able to withstand further blows. Would it?’ I was seriously
frightened. I felt a terrible discomfort in the abdomen as the bladder was full
with urine.
It all happened when I was standing on the shiny corridor of
the newly constructed building of Tiruppur City Corporation. I was waiting for
the arrival of the house tax inspector of the North Zone. It was a dull,
post-lunch afternoon; extremely scorching sunlight outside. The room where the
electric fans were running at greater speed didn’t get its visitor yet, and so
many persons like me were waiting there outside. I saw Chinnu, the personal
assistant of the inspector, entering the room with his mobile phone on his
ears, talking to someone. Exactly at the very moment I thought of asking him
when the inspector would arrive, I saw him coming out of the room, rushing out
at lightning speed. As he was a known person to me, I stood in his way and
smiled at him, thinking that he would be able to identify me.
Chinnu stowed some currency notes hurriedly into my shirt
pocket and said while rushing out, “I’ll meet you in a while,” and disappeared
in the crowd outside. I stood totally confused at what had happened, and in a
flash of the moment, I took out those currency notes from my pocket; someone
grasped my right hand. It appeared that he was standing there incognito till
then. I wasn’t sure about it. It was a strong grip, holding me tightly, not
allowing it to move. Another person came in front of me with a camera in his
hand as if he was waiting for this episode to unravel. His camera flashed, and
he captured some pictures in quick sequence. The corridor, till then slumbering
dully, became alert at once. People started gathering there, lining up from
nowhere. ‘Where were they till then?’ They were trying to capture
pictures of mine on their mobile phones, crushing against each other. Two
persons pushed them aside, “Move away…move away…” and took me inside the room.
Even amidst that commotion, I was still unable to understand
what was exactly happening there. I thought of asking them but couldn’t speak.
They made me sit on a stool inside the room.
He was standing with the camera readily. When they asked me
to dip my fingers in a glass full of water, tears welled up in my eyes
insentiently. While I was staring at the water vacantly, it changed its colour
into a blue hue at the touch of my fingers. ‘Were they my fingers? Why did
the water change its colour?’ Everything seemed beyond my comprehension.
All that had happened around me a while ago was totally out of my control. My
body still kept on shivering. My lips were spluttering, trying to talk to
someone around there. Neither did anyone pay attention towards me nor asked me
about anything.
The men who ran out chasing Chinnu returned empty-handed. The
one who came inside angrily, with his shirt soaked in sweat, panting, threw a
frowning stare at me. A sharp invective came out of his mouth, sprinkled along
with his spittle. When I was looking at him, he gave a strong slap on my face
in a flick of a second—a manifestation of his anger at not being able to catch
Chinnu. I couldn’t raise my head. Sheer Insult! Fear! Utterly confused at
knowing nothing around there! He pulled my back with his hands and made me sit
straight. ‘Was he going to hit me again?’ My body curled inwards out
of fear. With the shaking legs, I treaded. My feet were tottering
uncontrollably in the air. Massive pain in lips and cheeks! The whole of my
head hangs with the heaviness of pain.
When I came out, the scorching yellowish rays of the sun were
extremely harsh and burnt my face. I was thirsty; my lips were drying up. Once
I boarded the car, two men sat on my sides, almost crushing me in between them.
I couldn’t identify the person who had slapped me. Feeling thirsty, I wanted to
ask for water. But I couldn’t ask after seeing their face. I could feel that the
eyes of people gathered over there were upon me. ‘Where are they taking
me?’. When I turned my head, thinking of asking it to someone, I
saw my bike parked in the parking bay. “It’s there, my bike.” My voice came out
so feebly. Those men were sitting with the fixed stare on the road, as if
nothing had fallen into their ears. I turned back and saw that the crowd was
dispersing.
As the car approached Pushpa Theatre, my cellular phone in my
pocket rang. ‘Why haven’t I thought about informing someone during this
turmoil? I could have called Thangaraju and informed him. What story will I
narrate’? Meanwhile, one of the persons, sitting on my right, picked
up my phone from my pocket and saw it. It was Thangaraju who had phoned me. The
person who was sitting beside the driver's seat, with a trimmed moustache and
stiff appearance, must be an officer. He asked, “Is the call for him?” He just
nodded his head ‘yes.’ “Switch it off and put it in the pocket,” he said. He
switched the phone off swiftly and kept it in his pocket.
I told them, “It’s my son. Let me ask him why he had called.”
My words didn’t fall into their ears.
Only when the car was racing through the Avinasi Road did it
become certain that we were moving out of the city limit. My mind, which was
already so much troubled out of fright, became furthermore tense now. ‘There
is no doubt that they are Anti-Corruption Bureau officials. But why are they
taking me? After stowing the currency notes into my pocket, Chinnu had
run away, escaped. It is he who should have been caught. They had come there
only for that. Hadn’t they? Without catching him, why are they taking me? Where
are they taking me? What are they going to do with me? The interrogation
scenes I had watched in movies caused my abdomen to rumble with uneasiness. It
seemed that my burden would ease if someone was, at least, ready to listen to
my words. Even if it happened, I suspected whether they would believe in what I
would be saying. Would they? ‘What else could I do?’
I closed my eyes. My wife, Saroja, used to tell me that I
should pray to Lord Murugan whenever I face such a crisis. ‘Can I pray to
Him?’ She would be worried now as I hadn’t returned home. She would
be sitting in the loom by now with one eye on the silk yarns and the other on
the street, expecting my arrival.
The evening rays of the sun fell on the glass of the car,
penetrated, and fell onto my face too. ‘How long will they conduct the
inquiry? Will they send me back home after the inquiry? As they are taking
me in the car, I think they are taking me to Coimbatore. Will they bring me
back in the same car? No… I don’t need it. It is enough if they leave me at
once. I can catch a bus and reach my home myself. My bike is standing at the
Municipal Corporation Office compound. Will it remain at the same place? Can I
go there in the morning to pick it up? I can tell Thanga Raju to pick it up
provided they permit me to use my phone. Even if they permit me to call him, I
won’t be able to give the details of persons travelling with me and the place
where I will be available, as it is not even known to me. Oh! God! Why did I go
to this doomed place today and get caught in this mess? Ever since the day
Sandhya constructed the house, such unsavoury things keep happening—some
problems are readily trailing behind me one way or the other.
Actually, it was a housing plot purchased for her before her
marriage. As it was cheaply available adjacent to a quarry in Pommanayakkan
Palayam, I purchased it. Five and a half cents of land were sold at a
paltry sum of forty thousand rupees. ‘Now, one cent of land is being sold
for more than five lakh rupees.’ The troubles started on the day itself—an
auspicious day, when we laid the foundation stone after due assessment of
appropriate Vastu… When we measured the plot for starting the
construction work, we came to know that our neighbour had constructed his house
by encroaching one and a half feet on our plot. He seemed to be a Southerner.
He purchased his plot only in the last year and constructed his house there. Despite
measuring the plot multiple times, we couldn’t reconcile the missing one and a
half feet of land on the eastern side of the plot. I sent Thangaraj to inform
Venkat Raman and to bring him. Fortunately, he was available at his home.
Venkat Raman was an expert in dealing with land property-related disputes.
Chewing betel leaves, he browsed the land documents patiently. He walked along
the plot east-west, folding up his dhoti. Stood aside, looked at the plot once
again. He spat the betel leaf juices out and sat in the shade of a neem tree
standing near the torchwood fence.
“Yes…he had encroached one and a half feet on your land. Now,
how to settle this issue? Is he available at his home? Have you met him?” he
asked.
I was ready with the reply as I had already enquired about
neighbour’s presence at his home in advance. His bullet bike was standing in
front of his house. Thangaraju knocked at the door. A well-built, hirsute man
in his vest, with reddened eyes and a thick gold chain tangling in his neck, peeped
out of the door. I got frightened at seeing his frame.
Venkat Raman explained everything to him. He listened to him
patiently, went inside, and brought the copy of the title deed. The document
was found to be neatly calculated and perfect in detail. When Venkat Raman
asked him hesitatingly to permit us to measure the house, he didn’t become
angry, accepted his suggestion readily, and told us, “When we have reason to
suspect, it has to be sorted out in the beginning itself. After all, he is
going to be my neighbour. Knowingly we must not allow such disputes to grow.”
My uneasiness was greatly reduced. ‘We shouldn’t judge a person by his
appearance,’ I thought. While measuring the house, we came to
know that he had placed the stones wrongly and hence encroached on my land
unknowingly. As it wasn’t feasible to demolish the compound wall just for one
and a half feet of encroached land, he accepted to compensate it by giving the
cost of the encroached land as suggested by Venkat Raman. The issue was settled
amicably. Another issue came up when we started digging up the land for
erecting the base for the building. The crowbar couldn’t penetrate into the
land beyond two feet. Rocky layers all around!
I felt someone patting on my shoulder. I opened my eyes. I had
had slept without even knowing that I had come to Coimbatore. ‘When did I
fall asleep? ‘Which place is this?’ Thick darkness, dim light at the
entrance, and the road, which was full of trees, didn’t have signs of any human
activity. Neon lights were shining at the top of the six-floor building
standing at a distance. It was an old bungalow converted into an office. The
one who was sitting in the front room got up and gave a salute. There were two
chairs and a long wooden bench on the left in the room. The newspapers were
found stacked. The cat, which was lying underneath the cot, raised its head
once and then curled itself.
“Do you want to go to the loo?” the one who took pictures
asked me. I didn’t know how I became numb for such a long time. I followed him.
There was a small walking path around the house. It appeared that someone in
the neighbouring building was singing aloud. The intense fragrance of coral
jasmine was wafting through the air. It was a washroom with a thatch made of
asbestos. Water was dripping from the tap, and a copious amount of urine flowed
from me, non-stop. As the bladder got emptied, I became calm and stable. Sweat
on the back of my neck. I wanted to wash my face. I collected the water from
the tap, splashed it on my face, and cleaned it. My lips were burning with pain
as if they were burnt in fire. I could feel that they had swollen. The same
dreadful fear overwhelmed me once again. When I was gargling, spitting the
water out of my mouth, he knocked at the door. He threw a loathsome look at me
when I came out of the washroom wiping my face. He must have run out of
patience as he was waiting for me. I followed him as he walked in the front. A
strong aroma of spices cooked in one of the houses in the vicinity was dense in
the air. The moment I thought of asking about it, he made me sit on the bench
and left. I wondered how these men were gifted with such unfriendly faces.
The tint of blue was still sticking to my fingers. I stared
blankly at it. It was the evidence. I was not the one who received the bribe,
but the one who gave it! ‘ Giving and receiving bribes is a crime. Isn’t
it? What is the punishment for it? Does the law punish someone who is
implicated as the giver of a bribe without anyone to receive it? Do I deserve
all these? Why did I go to that place and stand there at that time? When I left
home, Saroja told me to go out after the sunlight became less harsh. If I had
listened to her words and delayed my schedule by some minutes, I wouldn’t have
stood at that place, and all these tumults enacted there would have been
completed. I would have also returned home thinking that the inspector hadn’t
arrived on that day and could have woven four yards of cloth in my loom. It was
all my bad time. Wasn’t it? It was my bad timing that made me stand there when
all these happened.
Why should Chinnu stow the cash specifically into my pocket
when there were so many persons waiting in the corridor? It was not Chinnu who
picked me up; it was my bad time that made his hands enter my pocket. The bad
time would come in blue colour. Wouldn’t it’?
I would feel good if someone were there to talk. Making me
sit and wait at a heavily silent and lonely place was completely unbearable for
me. Sitting idle without knowing what this wait was for was a very big
punishment. ‘Can I go inside to ask them why they had brought me there and
what mistake I had made? They would have the courtesy to reply. Wouldn’t they?
What will I do if they smack my face once again without giving a reply’?
The slap I received earlier was still painful. The very thought of getting
beaten made my legs shiver. The body started sweating. I was convinced that I
would be beaten again. I was sure that someone would appear now, push me inside
at any time, and I would be beaten immediately after a couple of questions. I
lost my strength to withstand beatings anymore. Even a small nudge would be
sufficient enough to break me.
‘How would they justify their beatings? - Would they ask
whether I had come there to give a bribe? Or who did I want to bribe? Or how
much I wanted to bribe? Only this many questions they might ask, I thought.
Very simple questions indeed! I could reply easily as I didn’t find any trouble
answering those questions. Did I?’ In this, where was the need to slap
someone? Wasn’t it enough if I narrated everything as it was? They came to nab
the official who accepted bribes and his assistant Chinnu. They couldn’t nab
Chinnu. I had some amount in my pocket when Chinnu whisked it away. So they
caught me. They also knew that it was only Chinnu who stowed the cash in my
pocket while running away. By all means, they shouldn’t have anything more to
ask, should they?? I too had nothing more to explain’.
As I started believing that there was nothing to inquire
about, my mind calmed down. I could wait; I didn’t have any other way either. I
would have to spend the whole night there.‘ My family members should be
informed of it. I could inform them that I had come to Coimbatore on some
urgent work and would return home the next day morning. They might ask me about
the urgency of work that demanded an overnight stay. On reaching home in the
morning, I can explain everything to them. It would be just enough to say that
I was safe. What is the time now? It must be seven or half past seven. Thangaraj
must have gone to the municipal office in search of me as I hadn’t returned
yet. He could have seen my vehicle standing unattended. Who would be available
there to inquire about me? The watchman only would be available to ask. He
mightn’t know that it was I who they had taken along with them. But he could
give some details about a person arrested in the afternoon and his sandal
colour shirt. Even if he was able to hint at those details, it would be
sufficient for anyone to guess. The situation would be miserable if he weren’t
available. I wasn’t sure if the said watchman was sitting there when I was
arrested. Would he continue his night shift too after doing afternoon shift
duty? Even if he hadn’t said anything, narratives cooked up by people as per
their whims about my arrest would have spread to so many people by now.
Thangaraj and Saroja will be able to sleep peacefully tonight as long as they
don’t hear any of those narratives. Otherwise, they will keep searching for me
without any clue about my whereabouts and won’t sleep peacefully. If I am able
to inform them about me, I could remain peaceful. I peeped out of the
room. There was no movement in the inner room. The guard sitting in the front
room was also absent. Can I go out now? If no one was there, can I try escaping
from the place? Since it is the city of Coimbatore, I wouldn’t have trouble
knowing the present location once I get out of that street. After that, I could
catch a bus and reach home. When I thought about that possibility, I could feel
that my legs were shaking even while standing. Lips got dried up. Is it
possible for me to escape? Is escaping from that place possible? Would they be
that careless in security? Or is it a well-designed scheme to get me into
further trouble? There is a possibility that I will be snooped on when no one
is around there. There must be surveillance cameras at the corner of this room.
It must be monitoring my movements without raising any suspicion. My goodness!
I didn’t try walking outside. If I had done that, they would have scooped me up
as a whole at the entrance of the building itself. The nature of the
investigation would change thenceforth, for sure. They would ask me, “If you
say you have not done the crime, why did you try to escape?”
A sound of footsteps was heard from the front room. I peeped
inside. The one who was sitting earlier was there.
“Sir…”
He turned back.
“I need to make a phone call.”
“To whom?”
“I need to inform my family. These people have brought me
here without giving me a chance to talk to them.”
He came near to me, told, “ ‘sir’ hasn’t arrived in yet. They
are waiting for him. Only after his arrival we can take a call on your request.
Now you can’t make a call to anyone”. He was a young man. His stiff uniform fit
on him perfectly.
He went back to his seat, turned towards me, and asked, “Are
you hungry?”
I was surprised at the nodding of my head in affirmation. ‘Whatever
the crisis, the stomach never stops its demands.’
‘Even if Thangaraj collected the information from the
watchman, where would he go to search for me? In case he enquired at the police
station, they might guide him. Even if he was informed that I had been taken to
Coimbatore, would he be able to come here at this time? Where will he get help
in this night? He could seek assistance from Rajendran. As Rajendran was a
reporter in a local news channel, he wielded some influence in that region. It
gave me some sort of hope that they could take me along with them by tonight.
They would have started their journey from Tiruppur. Wouldn’t they? This guard
has just mentioned someone as ‘sir.’ Who’s that ‘sir’? He must be a senior
officer. They will conduct the inquiry only after his arrival. Won’t they?’ I expected Rajendran to come with
some people before it so that I could escape beatings from them.‘ Even
though those two tight slaps were given on the face in a rage due to impulsive
momentary anger, the slaps remained as slaps just to remind me of my
ignominious condition. Didn’t they? No more excuses would rectify the insults
sustained already. Wouldn’t it? This place doesn’t seem to be a regular police
station. It just looked like a house. But the heavy silence prevailing there
caused uneasy fear in the abdomen’.
The cat mewed, lifted its head, and threw its eyes over the
entrance of the room. A boy, wearing an orange colour vest, printed with two
large staring eyes, peeped into the room. “Is it for him?” he asked, keeping
the packet of food on the table. The aroma of Kuruma induced my hunger.
‘Can I trust this food? I hope they haven’t mixed something in it. Will there
be any substance mixed in it to make me speak? I am prepared to provide any
details they want. Aren’t I? But there is no one to listen to me. Now, I can’t
bear my hunger any longer, whatever the circumstances! The aroma disturbs me,
invitingly.’ The moment I thought of opening the packet, the one sitting
in the front room told me, “Water is here. You can have it.” I came out and
collected water in a tumbler. Those few steps of walking had got me relaxed a
bit. When I saw a similar food packet on the guard’s table, I regained my trust
in it.
It was Barotta1. I flipped it in the kuruma
2 and ate it, as the brazen, longing eyes of the cat were still on me. While
opening the mouth, a sharp pain radiated on the left. Tasty vegetarian Kuruma!
Even in that wretched situation, I couldn’t help being appreciative of its
taste. It is said that every cell of the brain functions differently. Now I
could understand it fully—indeed, my brain directed me to give priority to
flipping the Barotta in Kuruma amidst the possibility of
getting beaten. In spite of pain while chewing it, I completed eating it
somehow, slowly. Folded the leaf, threw it out into the garbage bag, and drank
water. Came back to the chair and reclined. Spicy Kuruma was still causing a
burning sensation in my bruises. If permitted, I would have slept in that chair
itself. But the deadly silence of that place didn't allow me to sleep, and its
persistent chirping kept on warning me.
‘Nothing would have been different even if I had remained at
home. I wouldn’t sit in the loom for weaving after dusk. After a brief bath, I
would be served with a hot milk tea.
Wearing my half-sleeve shirt, while stepping out of the
house, my granddaughter doing her homework, with her head bent down, at the
veranda, would ask me aloud, “Grandpa…aren’t you going to Pulla Temple?” She
wouldn’t be permitted to come along with me anywhere if she didn’t complete her
homework. In the middle of a garden located at the end of Second Street was a
Pillaiyar Temple (Ganesh Temple) under a peepal tree amidst the thickly grown
neem trees, fry wood tree, Indian beech, and Indian rennet. By the time I reach
home after taking three rounds in the garden, watching the branches where the
birds are dwelling in, Saroja would be ready with wheat dosai for me. One of
the scenes in the serial sobs on television would have left people teary-eyed.
I was not interested in it. I would sit on the veranda and start rolling the
yarns in the bobbins for weaving it the next day. Therpattikara Ponnan, sitting
cross-legged at the opposite veranda after coming from his shift duty, would
ask me, “Haven’t you read the newspaper today?” It would be almost 10’ o'clock
when Saroja comes with milk mixed with pepper powder and some tablets. After
Ponnan left the place, I would swallow the tablets and sleep’.
Today, it isn’t possible to take the tablets. Is it? ‘ Nothing
will happen if I don’t take tablets for one day. Nothing could have happened
more than this. All this nervousness and restlessness won’t get reduced with
the intake of tablets. Will it? The time can’t be past ten. Despite the
body having become weak, I didn’t feel sleepy. The cat ran towards the
entrance. The corridor became alive all at once. ‘The ‘sir’ might have
arrived in.’ I feel a lump obstructing my throat. I rubbed my eyes, as the
head was still spinning. Tottered. I got up without being told and stood
meekly.
“What have you done, you blokes!! I asked you all to go on a
wild goose chase, but you have caught a louse here? How did you miss him? The
voice of ‘sir’ went past the rooms. A voice, stern and flawless. Very succinct
in its expression to penetrate one’s senses! No one replied. ‘What could be
his age? Will he be above fifty-six years old like me? People say that the eyes
of police officers can easily identify the criminals just by their appearance.
If so, will he be able to identify that I am an innocent man’?
I was standing there, waiting. They might call me at any
time. I was unable to bring the shiver in my legs under my control. My tongue
licked my swollen lips reflexively. The cat came running inside. It paused for
a second seeing me, curled its body a moment, pushed its whiskers forward,
mewed, left me without taking its eyes off me, and settled at its place.
The one who was sitting on my left in the car called me out.
“Come here.”
I walked, as if a weightless piece of something useless was
tottering. Wiping the sweat off my palm on my shirt, I followed him. There were
rooms in different sizes. Both lighted and dark walking paths. I felt that I
was walking a long distance.
The room, designed to be elongated, was brightly lighted. The
wavy cigarette smoke filled the room. There was a big table at the leftmost
corner of the room. Pictures were animating on the computer screen. A man with
a striped shirt was watching the screen keenly. A cigarette in his finger,
still emitting smoke. He must be the ‘sir.’ Once I entered the room, he turned
towards me. Plump cheeks and a fully shaven face, without a moustache. He must
be a north Indian. His tiny eyes looked at me as if piercing me in a straight
line. I was standing, confused as to whether to greet him or not. He crushed the
filter tip of the cigarette in an ashtray, looking at me with disdain as if I
was an ignoble piece of shit or something.
“What’s your name?”
For some seconds, I couldn’t understand that he asked the
question to me. I said, “Arunachalam,” a delayed reply.
“What are you doing?”
“Weaving…weaving silk.” I stood confused whether I should add
a suffix to the sentence to sound more respectful. Or should I add ‘sir’ at the
end?
I could feel that his eyes were surveying my fingers. The
remains of blue tinge were still sticking to my fingers. He lighted one more
cigarette, waved the back of his palm dismissively, and delved into the
computer screen. Was that the image on the screen mine? Yes…it was. They took
me to the room again. They had got everything—whatever had happened in the
afternoon was captured in pictures. A severe pain radiated in the skull again.
They had captured everything in pictures. This man is now watching everything
on the screen. The tremor in my body shot up.
“Please come,” he brought me outside. ‘Is everything
over? Is the investigation over? Can I ask the person walking in the front
about it? Will they leave me now with all these alone? They made me wait this
long just to ask these questions. Didn’t they? They had got those things
written down in Tiruppur itself. Hadn’t they’?
“Why did you beat this man?” I could hear the voice of ‘sir’
from inside. He must have replied to him. It was inaudible.
I came back to the room and sat. He went back. I called him
out, “Sir.”
He turned back. “When can I leave for my home? …,” I asked
him. Before I could complete my sentence, he signaled me with his forefinger on
his mouth to keep quiet. “Sir will inform. Be quiet.” He left the place
swiftly.
As I sat dejectedly, feeling utterly helpless, I burst out
crying. I covered my swollen lips with my hands and wept in silence. After so
many years, I cried like that. I could see the cat lifting its head, looking at
me. Its shiny eyes were staring at me. When I wiped my face with my
handkerchief, I heard the sound of footsteps. ‘Are they coming out?’ I
rose and went to the entrance of the room. ‘Sir’ came out first; others
followed him. On seeing me standing there, the ‘sir’ stood.
“Sir… May I leave?”
He moved ahead, nodding his head, “Let me decide in the
morning.”
Quickly, I retorted, “Family members will be worried as I
haven’t gone there…sir.” I told him in a rather raised voice.
He turned towards me, came near, piercingly looked at me, and
told me, “Don’t worry, they will inform your family.” ‘ He understood that
I had wept. Didn’t he?’
The sound of vehicles leaving was heard. They fastened the
latch outside. ‘The ‘sir’ has gone. That’s the end of everything. I have to
stay there throughout the night. Is it a jail? A jail without rods. What to do
next’? Only the cat and I were in that room.
The constable came in and told me, “If you need water, it is
over there. In case you want to go to the washroom, do inform me.”
I had seen his face earlier. He travelled with me in the car.
He came behind me and asked, “Should I inform your family right now? Or can I
do it in the morning? To whom should I inform?” His eyes were reddened. It was
his rough hands that caught my hands when I took out the currencies from my
pocket at that time. Getting enormously irritated and angry, I bent my head
down and thought prudently. ‘If they inform them by now, they may get
unnecessarily panicked. Let things happen the way they were destined. Let me
alone spend this despicable night. At least they can sleep peacefully till
morning’.
“You can inform them in the morning.”
I didn’t like to see anyone’s face. There was no use in
explaining to them. The ‘sir’ has gone. What decision could he have taken
after watching those video footages and me? Here everyone knows that I was
standing there accidentally and I hadn’t committed any mistake. Despite knowing
that, why do they make me sit in this manner?’
Wiping out the tears flowing down the eyes, I leaned against
the wall and sat down on the floor. Even in my wild imagination, I had never
thought that such a thing would happen to me. My affinity with Tiruppur police
station was nothing beyond a mere glance at it while going by that way in the
bus. Further, I had heard that the jail was located en route to the court at
the rear side of the Taluk Office. ‘By next Aavani, I will complete
fifty-six years. It has been written on my head that I should get smacked on
the face at this age. Hasn’t it? It appeared that I was also under the same
spell of Ezharai Naattu Sani3, which had caught up Sandhya too. Even the colour
of the pumpkin smeared with saffron powder, thrown in front of the house at the
time of the housewarming ceremony, hasn’t yet faded. But my wretched destiny
has brought me here. Hell with that house tax they levy. Why did I get worried
about it? I should have paid it, no matter how big the amount is. People told
me that I would have to pay only one third of the levied amount if I could
manage to meet the tax inspector. More than half of the people who were present
there had come to do such things anyway. But why is it me? What sin have I
done? Am I the only one scapegoat in this whole mess? They haven’t grilled me
with questions. Nor intimidated me! After that slap, they didn’t beat me. That
was it. But why are they still keeping me there, not sending me home? No one
can ever reverse the torture I underwent, making it non-existent? Can they? The
one who did all the mistakes is sleeping comfortably at his home with his wife
and children. The one who is falsely implicated is standing here in utter despair.’
“Get up.” I felt that someone shook my shoulder gently. I
opened my eyes. It was the same constable. I was perplexed seeing him in a
lungi, as I couldn’t identify him. I leaned against the wall and stretched
out my legs. Head was aching. Eyes were burning. I must have cried a lot. It
seemed that I lay there out of tiredness and slept there itself. ‘What is
the time now?’ I tried moving my jaws. A sharp, shooting pain at the
corners of ears!
“Who’s Thangaraj?” I lifted my head as he asked this
question.
“They have come here in search of you.”
I got up. ‘Thangaraj has come. Hasn’t he?’ A cry of
dejection was about to break out from me. I peeped out of the room. No one was
there. The warmth of pain in the corners of my ears made my heart beat faster.
Got up totteringly. The bruises on the lips were still burning.
“Come after cleaning your face with water. They are waiting
for you inside.”
‘Why should he meet me in this condition? Why is he waiting
for me now? I told them yesterday not to inform anyone. They must have called
him from the contact numbers in my cellular phone. When did he come here? Is he
alone or with Saro… Aiyo…she shouldn’t see me in this condition. She would
break down.’ Went
to the washroom, peeping into the room. Yet they didn’t permit me to go inside.
I wanted to have a glance at my swollen face.
“Do you want tea?”
I didn’t say anything. Wiped my tears. A mild vapour was
coming from a small plastic tumbler—hot tea! I didn’t want it. But I couldn’t
stop myself from asking for it, as I felt that I needed something hot due to
the severe headache.
He turned towards me once and looked at my face once as he
drank the tea, flipping the pages of the newspaper. The cat wasn’t seen
underneath the bench. ‘Even a cat had the freedom to run away from that
place at any time it wanted. I am the one confined in that despicable place.
More sugar seemed to have been added in the tea. Saroja used to give me tea
without sugar. ‘Wouldn’t Thangaraj have brought anyone along with him?
Hadn’t he met some lawyers with the help of Rajendran? Will these people allow
those people inside’?
The cat mewed and jumped on me from somewhere in the top. I
moved a step behind with an unexpected shock. But I didn’t fall down and
regained my composure, got up. A lot of paper bundles, boxes, and plastic items
were kept in the loft. The cat had been hiding there till then.
“Come”
I got up and went inside. I couldn’t control my trembling.
Not sure whether the ‘sir’ has arrived in. Same room. Thangaraj was writing
something while sitting opposite the table. Rajendran was sitting beside him.
On their left, a man, unknown to me, was sitting. All three turned their faces
towards me and looked at me. Rajendran came to me and held my hands
supportively. I couldn’t control my tears.
“When we inform you, he should be brought here. Don’t avoid
reporting with excuses like ‘lawyer says’ or ‘judge says.’ The matter will then
become more complicated. Be careful about it.” The sub-inspector warned us in a
very unsympathetic tone.
“I will take care of everything, sir. We won’t do such
things,” the third man politely told him and got up.
While coming out of the building, I closed my eyes. The
brightness of the day was so glaring that I couldn’t open my eyes. The sunlight
was extremely harsh, due to which I couldn’t even lift my head. The cat jumped
out from the wall. It stretched its back and contorted its face. It was all
only for a second. It jumped over the door readily and ran away. Once the car
moved out of the place, my trembling had reduced. I was sitting alone in the
rear seat. Thangaraj appeared to be very restless. Hadn’t he seen my torn lips?
He wanted to ask something but was hesitating. Rajendran was driving the car,
explaining the traffic jam caused by the construction of a bridge. Both of them
didn’t ask me what had happened. They must have thought of not disturbing me at
this juncture. Even if they had asked me, I couldn’t have given any replies.
Once the car took a turn at the corner of the street, I could
understand that the matter had spread well ahead of us. The entire street was
unanimously excited. A huge crowd at the entrance of the house as if someone
had died. I was trying to get down from the car, but my legs weren’t ready to
budge. I couldn’t move. Saroja came to the rescue; she held my hands and took
me inside.
I am walking silently, staring at the ground, hanging my
head. Someone or the other is coming near to me, some holding my hands, some
patting on my shoulders in all their attempts trying to assuage me with
assuring words. Nothing went into my ears. My eyes welled up with tears.
“Please don’t trouble him. Let him take a rest,” Rajendran
told in an authoritative tone.
“Very pitiable fellow you are! You are as innocent as a white
corn. This shouldn’t have happened to you.”
‘Who’s that? Voice of Sundari Periyamma? Wasn’t it?’ The movement of planets isn’t in our
favour. A suitable remedy must be taken to address it.” Segadanthali Mama’s
voice fell into my ears with his trademark tobacco scent. All the relatives
were assembled there. ‘How did they know about it? The matter was known to
everyone since they had started searching for me. Hadn’t they? What would they
have thought about me? How am I going to face them’?
“Newspaper guys don’t distinguish the bad and good. It is a
police-registered case. So they had published what they had been told.”
‘What are they talking? Had this news been published in the
newspapers? Which newspaper? What was the news all about?’
“Why don’t you shut your shitty mouth and get lost from
here?” the woman from Mannarai Village chided the person who uttered it.
As I entered my bedroom, Saroja pulled the window curtains
down and closed the windows. She wept desolately, not being able to see my
face. I took my shirt off, threw it out, and lay on the floor. The whole body
was aching. ‘A humiliation worth giving my life. What is going on here?
Which force had had me incarcerated yesterday? Was it a jail? Why is this woman
crying now? Arunachalam was dead yesterday itself. Wasn’t he? What is lying
here is just his dead body. Isn’t it?’ My mind didn’t get attached to
anything. I kept staring at her. She wiped her tears and went away.
I didn’t like to meet anyone. She led everyone through the
hall to the entrance. The murmurs of the people were heard through the closed
doors. ‘I shouldn’t venture out under any circumstances. But can I remain
like that? How long will I be able to confine myself in this manner? I can’t
remain aloof without talking or seeing people for long. If only I share my
feelings with others, my burden will get reduced. Mental stress will come down.
However, I can’t do that too, at this time. Rather, I should sleep like a
corpse without any thoughts. I wanted to have a glance at that newspaper. What
has he written in that? Will it be ‘Here is the person who tried to give a
bribe’? Lakhs of copies must have been sold. Mustn’t have? I have become hot
news in all papers. Everything seems to be over. I have read so many such
stories. Haven’t I? – A photo of a person trying to hide his face with his
handkerchief with a caption “Assistant arrested for receiving bribe.” When they
took my pictures yesterday, I didn’t hide my face. I was not even aware why
they were taking my pictures. Didn’t they take pictures in the car? Hell with
those pictures! I had become news. Mr. Arunachalam, age 54, from Managalam
Nagar, 4th Street, Tiruppur, was caught yesterday when he tried to give a
bribe. What a lifetime achievement it is! This is how one earns name and fame.
Doesn’t he? Saroja might ensure that the newspaper doesn’t fall in my eyes. Any
problem if I don’t see that? It was just an incident that happened that day. I
have taken my due place in history. My name has been carved in the list of
persons arrested by the Anti-Corruption Bureau. O! God! My worthless birth has
been destined just to face this ignominy. Hasn’t it’?
I felt that my chest grew choked and sat up. Tears were
rolling down the cheeks. ‘ That one second had changed my entire life.
Hadn’t it? Will I be able to come out of this? This incident will remain as an
identity of my existence henceforth. It will remain as an indelible dirt
forever. Won’t it? Now, at this second, I am lying in my house, hiding, unable
to show my head outside. Is my destiny designed like this? I don’t need such a
life anymore after this incident. Do I? I was staring at the ceiling fan. I
thought I could finish off everything with a yard length of rope. No more
insults! No more misery! Saroja would be weeping for sure, but for how many
days?! Everything will vanish one day.’ One bell rope is lying behind the
almirah. Starched, stiff, braided rope. I bent down and searched for it under
the almirah. I pulled the rope out. It was thick and long. I need to tie the
noose for my neck size. My hands were trembling for no reason.
Sound of knocking at the door! Throwing out the rope under
the almirah, I sat on the cot, wiping the tears. It was Saroja… She couldn’t
speak. She would shed tears if she saw my face.
“Can I bring idlis—they are hot?”
I nodded my head blankly. I hadn’t had anything since
morning. I didn’t eat anything even when they stopped their vehicle for having
tea on the way. I was hungry.
She brought three hot idlis on a plate. I washed my dusty
hands in the water kept in the cauldron. The warm taste of tomato sambar went
inside slowly. I lifted my head and looked at her. She was sitting and kept
looking at me. In the gap of a second, a drop of tear rolled down her cheek.
“It’s alright. It’s nothing. I have come safely. Haven’t I?”
Without uttering a word, she poured the sambar on the plate.
A while ago, I thought of tying a knot with the rope, but now I'm asking her
for the fifth idly.
…
On the tenth day, I was summoned to come to Coimbatore.
Thangaraju and Ranjendran took me there. Irukoor Ramesh, our lawyer, was
waiting there for us. He had already been informed about everything. He was
explaining the replies I had to give, succinctly yet clearly.
He was explaining clearly how I should reply to each
question.
“They have added you only as a witness. You are not the one
they are searching for. So you don’t have to get scared. They will ask questions
only in this manner and might twist the questions to get you confused. If they
ask you anything more than this, just reply boldly that you don’t know anything
other than this. I will take care of the remaining things.” His face exudes
confidence! Sensitive eyes! Talking to Ramesh gave me strength.
The building was looking like an ordinary one with its muted,
dull yellow painting. The creepers are thickly grown, hanging from the top of
windows with the light green leaves having some yellow flowers in it. After
getting down from the car, when I stepped into the building, the same
palpitation overwhelmed me. My steps were tottering. I stood as I saw a man
sitting behind the emaciated greenish reed partition. He was the same person
who stood guard the previous night. ‘Should I smile at him? Is it right to
show my acquaintance with him? I don’t know. His face was stern, with no sign
of anything’. Once I entered the front room, I looked into the room on the
left reflexively. The same wooden bench. Two men in dhoti quickly got up from
their seat and then sat down, relaxed. I searched for the cat. ‘Was it the
cat I was searching for?’
They allowed only me to go inside. The room, which was well
illuminated now, brought more fear in me. I could understand that the inspector
was sitting there impatiently, tight-faced, and seemingly lost his balance of
mind.
“Why did you go there at that time?”
“Just to inquire about paying house tax.”
“To meet whom did you go there?”
“My area inspector”
“What is his name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you met him earlier?”
“Yes. I have met.
“Where? When?”
“When the house was under construction, he came and visited.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that the tax has to be paid.”
“What else did he tell you?”
“He told nothing other than that.”
“Do you know who Chinna Samy is?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know at least where he is working?”
“I don’t know.”
“If then, why did he stow the cash in your shirt pocket?”
“I don’t know why he did that.”
“How much money did they demand from you?”
“They asked nothing.”
Everything went on just as Ramesh had told. I gave simple,
monosyllabic replies to each question asked. Despite being repeatedly asked, I
didn’t twist any reply I gave. I said ‘I don’t know’ to most of the questions.
It was visible that the inspector got angry. I could hear his mumbling, ‘They
have trained him well. If not today, he will be caught on some other occasions.
Won’t he be?’. They asked me to write everything on a paper and attest it with
my signature. I was unable to conceal my shaking hands.
I lifted my head and saw him. He looked into my eyes and
nodded his head. I paid my respects to him and came out of the room. I could
feel that his eyes were still following me. The cat that ran across stood for a
second and mewed at seeing me. Its mewing sound sent a chill down my spine.
I was shocked to see the revenue inspector who was waiting
for us in Ramesh’s office. Why did he come here? Is one more episode of what
had happened waiting for me? Rajendran was telling him something. Nothing fell into
my ears. I stood at the entrance itself, with a frowning stare at the
inspector.
A bright vermilion sandal on his forehead, a stiff white
shirt with flower patterns, and a face carrying an undying lively smile— I was
swayed by an unbridled anger after seeing him. I lost my control. I turned my
anger towards Thangaraj. “You have decided to send me to the jail permanently.
Haven’t you?” I yelled at him, threw a frowning stare at him, and walked past.
Nothing I could do beyond this. Could I? I came out, swiftly walking out.
Rajendran held my hands, beseeched, “Don’t take hasty decisions, Anna. I will
explain everything to you.”
I sat on the bench in a tea shop under the shade of a rain
tree. Oily raw Banana Bajjis 4 were shining inside a glass box in the shop. A
moderately thick rope with fire in its tip was hanging, tied around the wooden
pillar. Rajendran came to me and sat beside me. I glanced at him questioningly.
“Do you want to have a tea?” he asked me. Without waiting for my reply, he told
the shopkeeper, “Two teas without sugar.”
‘It’s me, the devotee of Lord Ram.
I am the one, the devotee of Lord Ram.
It’s me, the devotee of Sita.
I am the one, the devotee of Sita.
A coarse voice turned my attention. A man in a Hanuman 5
costume came running towards me. He was very short in height. A pale costume of
a monkey. Curved tail. Some ten-rupee currency notes were flapping on the plate
he was carrying. On seeing the tea shop, the Hanuman stopped. He took
off the mask, which covered his face, and smiled at the shopkeeper. Wiping his
face soaked in sweat, he said, “I will take two bajjis” and took out two bajjis
from the glass box. Keeping his Hanuman mask beside him, he sat on the bench,
pressed the oily Bajji with the old newspaper cuttings, and ate it.
I glanced at Ramesh’s office entrance. Thangaraj was still
standing there. His face was still rigid.
“You do all these things at his behest. Don’t you,
Rajendran?” When I asked this question, I felt like crying.
“You are mistaken…na. That man has come just to help us. He
will take care of everything. I have discussed everything with him. Please
don’t be angry.”
It seemed that I had lost all my hope, and everyone around me
appeared to be cheaters.
“We are not known to each other. He himself inquired about
this incident and has come on his own to help us. I have explained everything
to him. He is remorseful now for what had happened.” I couldn’t pay attention
to the assuaging words of Ramesh.
“All is drama… You don’t understand all these. How could you
believe in that man?” I murmured to myself with anger.
“How could you say this as a drama?” Ranjendran’s words came
out harsher. I looked at him. ‘Rajendran is shouting at me. Isn’t he’?
“We won’t leave this matter as such. Will we? I can
understand your anger. But it is advisable that we shouldn’t come to a
conclusion without making adequate inquiry about it. Please get up…we can go
inside.” He held my hands, trying to get me up. On seeing Thangaraj standing
near, I got up.
“Let’s go to our home. If you leave late, let me go by bus.”
I loosened my waist dhoti, shook it out, and tied it again.
That man wore the Hanuman mask on his face and started
singing the song enthusiastically.
‘It’s me, the devotee of Lord Ram’…
….
On the next day of my third visit to Coimbatore, when I was
lying in the room in the early morning darkness, Saroja asked me, “Nothing will
change if you keep confining yourself within this dark room. Will it?”
I sat up, thinking about how to reply to her. I wasn’t able
to concentrate on weaving. On the day when I dared to sit in the loom for
weaving out of frustration of spending my days futilely, it became nothing less
than a disaster. That day, I went to the loom in the early morning, after
cleaning my face, smearing Vibhoothi on my forehead, and, of course, with full
confidence. But the moment I got into the room, the incident came through my
mind. My mind was fully occupied with the visual details of every moment of
that incident. I sat immobile. After drinking the hot tea Saroja brought, I
rose up again with the new vigor. Shaking my head, while the leg pressed the
treadle, my left hand, which was to pull the tape, missed its synchronized
movement. Before setting the things right, as it was a wrong pull, the tape
with the sharp edge jumped ahead, cut the yarns off, and hit the yarn tins kept
on the loom platform forcefully. That was it. I ran into my room and locked
myself inside. I never attempted going to the loom after that.
“Whatever happened, it had just happened. But you can’t
afford to waste your days like this thinking about it and lying here like a
sick man. It makes no sense. Does it?”
Saroja also lost her patience in due course. Very often, I
happened to listen to Thangaraj and Saroja talking like this:
“We have just one and a half saris yet to be woven. If we
complete it, we don’t have to be in a hurry about other things. If you think
you won’t weave it, tell me so that I can do it.”
‘Saroja knows everything about weaving. Though she weaves
slowly, she will complete weaving a sari in three days. She is an expert
weaver. What she was telling is actually true. But how can I tell like that?’
“All of you are getting troubled by this nuisance and expect
me to go to the jail permanently. Aren’t you?” I spoke in a lower voice without
even understanding what I was speaking.
She broke down in a second. “What wrong thing have I spoken
now?” All our conversation will end up either in crying or fighting
irrespective of whether we talked to each other or not.
“Yes…Yes…we are eagerly waiting for you to go to the jail.
Aren’t we?”
My obstinacy got even stronger. “It would’ve been better had
I not come out of the jail.”
Wiping her tears, she got up. “It’s said that even the mind
of a noble man will get spoiled if he is jailed for one day. It is correct now.
Isn’t it?”
I rose up angrily. I went to her and stared at her
frowningly. ‘Isn’t she endorsing the so-called identity that I have
recently earned in society?’ I too had expected that she would speak like
that one day. I gave a tight slap on her cheek. The moment I felt the moisture
of tears on my palms, she ran away. I was standing there, legs still shaking. I
didn’t know what to do next. A sort of burning sensation on my palms. ‘Her
cheeks too will burn like this. Won’t it?’ I lay down, staring at the
ceiling. Tears welled up. Rolled over, unable to control my sniffle. I grew
conscious of the fact that I was losing myself. Every time I went to
Coimbatore, I became more and more stubborn and grew more loutish. I became
aggressive at every small thing. Yelled at people without getting provoked. ‘Where
are these things going to end?’ I have been confining myself within this
room, unable to talk to anyone, unable to show my head out.
The sound of weaving was heard with its perfect cadence. An
expert weaver could only weave the yarns with this beat. When my mind merges
with weaving, even my weaving would produce such a cadence. But it wouldn’t be
this fast. It was a weaving with patience and precision. The sound stopped suddenly.
Someone holds my hands tightly. My wrist area is aching. While the loom was
running silently, the noose fell onto my neck. Currency notes from my shirt
pocket kept on the loom platform are flying. The unfriendly faces picking up
those papers stare at me contemptuously. The water drops down with the
fragrance of coral jasmine. Even the cat that jumps out of the beam has one
currency note in its mouth. I could see that when it mews with its tongue out.
Its blue-tinged tongue fondles my scars. The pepperiness of Kuruma! While
rolling up the banana leaves shrunk due to heat, I look at it keenly. The
crumpled paper had my photo in it! I am walking behind him, with my head
hanging. Is it me? Even if it is not visible clearly, Chinnu is yelling that
it’s me. A black cloth obstructs my face, followed by a cracking sound. I
scream, ‘I am innocent… It’s not m’e, holding the rope strangling my neck
tightly. A strong smack on my cheek again! Only darkness around!. Thick
darkness where one could hear only chirping. Suddenly, the sound of water
falling down. It soaks my feet and ascends. I climb up, holding the rope noosed
around my neck. The water also rises as swiftly as I climb. I run for my life,
trying to save myself from the meandering water chasing me through its zigzag
course. Someone pulls the rope swiftly. That moment I look up and fall down.
The inspector is standing, laughing in his flower-patterned white shirt. The
blue-hued flood submerges me.
I rolled over the bed and fell down. When I opened my eyes,
my granddaughter opened the door, peeping into the room.
“Grandpa…” Her lisp woke me up.
I got up and wiped my face. I hadn’t even allowed her to come
near to me.
“Have you fallen down, Grandpa?”
I nodded my head to her, said ‘no,’ lifted her, and kept her
on my lap.
“Is your health not alright?”
I adjusted her hair, fluttering on the side of her ear, and
nodded my head, ‘yes.’
“Did you have an injection?”
“Hmm…”
“Was it painful?”
“mmm”
“Is it alright now?”
“Mmm”—I could feel that my voice was shaking. Tears might
come out at any time.
“If then, can we go to Pulla Temple?”
Getting her down from my lap, I got up and looked upwards.
Shaking out my dhoti, I wore it as I cleared my ‘tear-swelled’ nose. It had
been very long since I had taken her to the Ganesh Temple. Wasn’t it? I
saw my face in the mirror kept near the window. Sunken eyes, a darkened face,
and a thickly grown grey beard. I bore an appearance that I couldn’t even
identify. Finger-combed my hair. I must get rid of the rigidity settled on my
face, which had almost forgotten what laughter was. I tried to bring a pleasing
smile to my face, moistening my lips. Lips tried to smile, but there was no
grin on his face yet. Uncooperative eyes threw a frowning look.
“You feeble, crying old man! If you don’t come, I’ll go on my
own.” My granddaughter twisted her lips, jumped out, and ran away from there. I
looked at my face once again in the mirror. Yes!...it was the face of a feeble,
crying old man anyway!
***
The weaving sound of the loom was heard. I came out. On
seeing me, Saroja halted the loom. I looked at her intently without saying
anything. ‘It was long ago since I heard this sound of the loom. Wasn’t it?
I was still unable to think of sitting on the loom for weaving. Without
concentration of mind, it is impossible to weave in the loom. After that
fateful day, I was unable to go near the loom. Only one and a half saris were
still to be woven. At the same time, we can’t afford to leave it as such
without completing it. Can we?’ The yarn will lose its tension, tear off,
and become useless. As I stood still without uttering anything, she resumed her
weaving. I used to weave slowly, without any signs of urgency. But on seeing
Saroja weaving, I understood she wove slower than me.
“That fellow came here. Didn’t he?” I asked her.
Halting the weaving, “Who?” she asked. She came out of the
room as she appeared to have guessed who I was referring to.
….
Nowadays, the assistant of the inspector frequents our house
just a day before I am scheduled to go to Coimbatore. He never listens to the
requests not to come like that, despite repeated appeals from Thangaraj. He
used to come just as an empty-handed visitor, overtly polite, and say, “Our
master has requested you to inform him of anything you want.” Rajendran too
tried his words with him, as he feared that it might bring uninvited troubles.
But he didn’t listen to him too, never stopped coming to us. I didn’t meet him
in person. Rather, it would be better to say that I didn’t like to meet him.
Only when he leaves on his new model bullet bike do I see him through the
window. He was an enthusiastic youth in a white shirt and blue-colored jeans
pants, with waving hair in the air. Why does the inspector try to get me impressed
with all these? He is afraid of getting caught during the course of the
investigation. Isn’t he? Sometimes, I used to think, what will happen if I say
that I had gone there only to give a bribe to him? They will arrest him and
imprison him and linger the investigation for months. Won’t they? His photo
will also appear in the newspapers.
If I get him caught in this, the case will become more
complicated. The investigation will go on for a longer period. I have become a
totally useless piece of a person by confining myself in the darkness. I won’t
be able to sustain myself in this manner. Will I?”
I can extort money from this man. If demanded, he would give
it away for sure. He is not going to give his hard-earned money. Is he? He
would give the money he had looted from others, and in turn, he would loot the
amount he gave me from others. Cyclic! I don’t want to commit that sin. I have
had enough for the sins I have already done. Not ready to add up to the bundles
of sins anymore. Once he comes in person, I must talk to him to explain my
stance.
At the end of the eighth month, the investigation of the case
came to an end, and the judgment was scheduled for the eighteenth of the month.
Saroja used to light lamps for Goddess Durga on Tuesdays; that day she left in
the early morning for the temple. While Rajendran was jubilant about the
affairs, I could see Thangaraj’s face was still gloomy and rigid. He might be
apprehensive about the possibility of un-favourable judgement. The possibility
of not coming back home was also looming around—the possibility I had already
thought over. I couldn’t sleep last night either. My mind was pensively
brooding on the incident that occurred on that day again and again. The
blue-hued fingers were holding me tightly. They were able to arrest only
Chinnu. They failed in their attempt to implicate the inspector. “Actually, it
is in our favour”, Ramesh told. As I thought that the same might turn against
me, I told him, “The destiny that forced Chinnu to put his hands in my pocket shouldn’t
descend in the pen of the judge while writing the verdict.”
….
The court campus was very crowded as if it was an auspicious
day. A lot of glaring, white-clad men were roaming around there. I was standing
under a tamarind tree, thoughts frozen, and my mind was empty. Ramesh came
running towards me, wiping the sweat on his forehead, and told me, “All your
miseries will come to an end by today.” I gave him an empty look.
“He wants to talk to you,” he told hesitatingly.
Without speaking anything, I looked at him. Rajendran came
running to me hurriedly.
“We can talk later, Ramesh.” Both of them left the place.
The revenue inspector was still standing somewhere here. He
was watching me. I knew it. ‘Here…even in this second, I can make him
locked up behind the bars. That fear will keep chasing him. Only this fear has
made Ramesh as his messenger. Hasn’t it? What would happen if I told what the
truth is’?
I didn’t speak anything in front of the judge. The same
familiar questions were asked earlier. The same replies were given by me.
Nothing was new. As I came out of the witness box, I signed in a thick register
as usual. Chinnu had told the court clearly that I was in no way related to the
money he stowed in my pocket. When he was walking along with the policemen, I
watched him standing at a corner. Rajendram came running to me, face brimming
with a smile, held my hands, shook it, and patted me on the shoulder in a quite
assuring manner. I came out, looking down. Not expecting anyone to accompany
me, I walked past. I could hear Thangaraj calling me out. I didn’t stop.
I kept walking past at faster paces from the courtroom.
Extremely scorching sun! Wiping the sweat from my neck, while turning, I found
the bus standing at the bus stop. I glanced at the name board. ‘Marutha Malai.’
Momentarily, an impulsive decision was taken at that moment; I ran behind the
moving bus and boarded it.
When I stood at the entrance of my house with my tonsured
head, Saroja screamed and wept desolately. She ran inside. Perhaps she must have
been aware of it. But she couldn’t have expected that I would do such a thing.
Until the very last momentary impulsive decision, I didn’t even have any idea
of having my head shaved off.
While taking a bath, I felt hungry. Sat there itself
immobile, water dripping. Even now, Saroja was unable to control her tears. She
was sitting with a blank stare at me, her lips shivering, mumbling some
mantras. Dal rice hotly served was lying in front of me. When Sandhya poured
ghee in it, its aroma induced my hunger pangs more. I crushed the papad,
mixed it with rice, and made a ball. My granddaughter, with eagerness, came to
me. I gave her the first morsel of it in her hands.
“sss… It’s hot, Grandpa…” She whined and ate it.
At the time when we, both of us, completed our food,
Rajendran and Thangaraj entered. My shaven head got them stunned. They stood
hesitatingly for a second.
“If you had told us, we would have taken you to the temple.
Wouldn’t we?” Rajendran told. Wiping my wet hand, I picked up the remote
control and pressed its button, sitting on the sofa. I was watching the news
bulletin silently.
“Has your grandpa brought Panjamirtham?” 6 Thangaraj
asked the child and took her on his lap. I could feel that he was staring at my
tonsured head.
***
As the light came inside, I opened my eyes. It seemed I was
still sleeping for a long time even after the dawn broke. I looked through the
window. The sunlight was very bright. The sound of songs came through the air
from Ganesh Temple. “Soup…soup…eiii”—one man was carrying soup made of goat
legs on his head, going by the street, bawling. ‘I have slept for such a
long time. Haven’t I?’ I looked at myself in the mirror. I was shocked for
a second. The hairless head had changed my appearance totally. Is it me?
This question occurred all of a sudden. ‘Will he come today? Yes… He will
come. He will come for sure. There is nothing in between us to discuss. Isn’t
it?’ Despite my mind’s comforting words, it was certain that he would
come.
I didn’t meet him till now and shouldn’t meet him today. The
fear in him must not go away from him at any cost. If I meet him and speak to
him, then that fear will vanish. He must also undergo the same miserable life I
had undergone till now for some more days. He shouldn’t be allowed to enjoy
peace at a lesser cost.
I took a bath hurriedly. ‘I must leave this place before
he comes. When he arrives in here, I shouldn’t be available at home. Each and
every day, he must wait with the same fear, at least for my sake.’
“Where are you leaving?” Saroja asked from the kitchen.
“To Pulla Temple”
She must have been convinced with my reply. This was what she
had been expecting for a long time. “Just wait a second. Let me make coffee for
you.”
“No… I can’t wait. I will drink it after I am back.”
The moment I stepped out of my house wearing my sandals, a
car came and stopped in front of the house. It was a familiar car. The car,
which I had seen frequently. I returned and went inside the house, hastily
though. Rajendran’s voice stopped me.
“Have you slept well? He couldn’t go inside by neglecting my
presence there.
I turned, looked at him, and smiled. I saw him alighting from
the car at the same time. The same fellow whom I saw in Ramesh’s office on that
day. No…something has changed in him. When I was looking at him absorbedly, he
folded his hands and smiled at me.
“Please come in…” I looked at him again, uttering this
sentence unreceptively. I was stupefied. He also had his head shaved off.
Thangaraj came out, wiping his face and peeking at the inspector,
and welcomed him, “Please come in…na.” He offered a chair to him.
He was wearing an embroidered white shirt. Grinning eyes
inside his spectacles. He glanced at the pictures hanging in the hall. “Is she
your granddaughter?” he asked.
“Yes…she is the daughter of Thangaraj.” When Rajendran
replied with excitement, the inspector kept watching my face.
Saroja brought a jug full of water.
As he drank the water with the sense of some urgency, he
looked at her and told her, “I have caused a lot of troubles for you all.
Please don’t keep it in your heart.”
She wiped her tears and told, “It’s all due to our bad time.
How can you be responsible for it?”
The inspector kept staring at me keenly. “You must be very
angry with me. Justifiable anger anyway. I thought of meeting you in person so
that I could absolve myself of my guilt,” he told.
Rajendran spoke in a rather convincing tone, “He is a simple
man. He doesn’t know much about talking and keeping such things in mind either.
You please don’t take these things to heart. Can we have tea?”
While going inside, Saroja asked, “Can I add some more sugar
in it?”
The inspector nodded his head to her, telling, “It doesn’t
matter. You may add sugar to it.” Smiled.
Sitting there without uttering any word seemed to be too
heavy to bear. He was eagerly waiting for a word from my mouth. It looked as if
he had also waited, expected for so many days like me for this to happen.
“It must have been a bad time. Mustn’t it? It so happened as
destined! Nothing was pre-decided anyway. Everything was purely circumstantial
and coincidental. That buffoon, Chinnu, had caught you in such a problem
inadvertently while trying to escape the spot.” He removed his spectacles,
cleaned them, and continued, “The case lingered on. I wanted to close the issue
at the earliest but in vain. He bent his head down as if he had delved into
some serious thoughts. Seconds later, he lifted his head, looked at me, and
told me, “Let’s not talk about that matter anymore. It can’t be rectified or
reversed, no matter how much I repent for it. I beg you not to keep it in your
heart.” He got up, came near, and held my hands. I was aghast for a second. My
hands were shaking. The slap I got on my cheek flashed like lightning in my
skull.
“It’s alright… You please sit down…” With my words
stammering, I pressed his shoulder gently and asked him to sit.
“We are habituated to such things. It happens very often too.
But we don’t carry anything in our hearts. Forgetting it, we will start looking
after other works after that. But you are not like us. It is my big mistake
that I had become a reason for a person like you to come to such a place.” He
took his handbag as he was speaking. “It is just for my satisfaction. I beseech
you to accept it.” He took out a white envelope and placed it in my hands.
I pulled my hands back reflexively. My hands went to my shirt
pockets, covering them involuntarily. The envelope slipped on the floor; the
currency notes from it fell down and scattered all around. I moved away from
it. My legs became numb, immobile, shivering. I looked at my fingers
involuntarily. I felt that the blue hue had stuck to my fingers. Looking at it
repulsively, I wiped my hands on my shirt. Rajendran told me, endearingly
patting me on my shoulder, “It’s nothing, naa… Please sit.”
Saroja brought hot tea, looking angry, and was sulking.
Without telling anything, she gave the tea. I remained silent for a second. I
wiped my hands once again, took the teacup, and gave it to him. “Please drink
it, sir,” I told him.
Rajendran collected all the scattered currency notes and put
all of them in his handbag. With his spectacles still in his hands, the
inspector drank the hot tea in sips. After two gulps, I told him, “It was not
your fault alone. You may leave, sir.”
With his hands folded, he left the place. I walked towards
the loom.
***Ended***
Note:
1.
A food item made of maida, popular in Tamil Nadu.
2.
It is a side dish given along with Barotta.
3.
Ezharai naattu sani—when a person has a troubled life, it is said that his
luck has been influenced by the God Saneeswaran. Colloquially, it is said that
he is under the spell of Ezharai Naattu Sani.
4.
An oily foodstuff made of gram flour.
5.
A character in Ramayana, messenger of Lord Rama.
6.
It is an offering made of fruits, jaggery, and honey, predominantly popular
in Lord Murugan Temples in Tamil Nadu.
