This is an English translation of Chellammal, a famous Tamil short story written by Puthumai Pithan. Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam. ***
Chellammal’s breath came to a standstill; her pulse slowed
down and settled finally. Chellammal became a nameless corpse now. It simply
meant that she died in solitude in the city in the presence of her husband, at
a distance of some five or six hundred kilometres away from her relatives.
With sweat flowing like a stream from his forehead, Brahma
Nayagam Pillai kept aside the bale of husk he was carrying in his hand and
stared at the body that was alive as Chellammal a while ago.
He closed the eyelids that were half-opened and kept the
hands that were stretched out lifeless in an orderly fold on her chest. He
straightened her left leg, folded it with a bend on one side, and joined both
the legs. He closed the lips that were slightly parted. Although the interiors
of his heart could feel that Chellammal was no more, he didn't feel the same
while touching her. Her breath came to a standstill that time.
He felt that an unbearable heaviness had got offloaded from
his mind as if he got his neck relieved of a heavy weight. The flood of his
miseries did not breach its sluice gates to throw him into utter despair. He reconciled
to the fact that the woman who had till then shared her life with him as his
wife had indeed got relieved of her pains.
But we shouldn’t come to a hasty conclusion that Brahma
Nayagam had become an ascetic without any familial bonds while seeing him
behave as a mature man and not shaken even at the shadow of death. We must
understand that his father was not an enlightened soul like King Suthothana to
bring him up with a fencing around his mind, protecting him against all worldly
desires, and finally take him to the “Bothi” tree. His father was just
an ordinary mortal who had also faced three facets of life—poverty, disease,
and death.
If we assume that Brahma Nayagam Pillai might have seen
many ups and downs in his life, all those small “ups” he somehow managed to
ascend, were nothing but the blunders of the “downs” that had kept descending
perpetually. When he realised what life actually meant, he had anyway set off
his journey from the “ups”.
Brahma Nayagam’s father was such a rich man who owned just a
piece of land, fetching him some income to look after his family’s yearly
requirements. If that piece of land were to be divided among his heirs, it
would necessitate a division into fragments, which would just be enough to keep
his heirs from going hungry. Brahma Nayagam Pillai was his fourth
son. As he was comparatively better at studies, his father got him educated,
leaving his other children with a minimum level of literacy, which was just
enough for them to read and sign letters. His fortunes helped his son to
continue his studies at a distance of some five or six hundred miles away and
somewhat kept him alive without going hungry. At an appropriate age, Brahma
Nayagam was bestowed with the luck of holding Chellammal’s hands in marriage,
wearing her a toe ring on ‘Ammi’ and looking at the ‘Arunthathi’
star.
After Brahma Nayagam Pillai’s father died, the property was
divided. While his elder brother managed the family debt-related issues,
preventing it from becoming a full-fledged litigation, Brahma Nayagam, along
with Chellammal, took refuge in Chennai in search of livelihood.
While Chennai offered him a life without peace, putting him
in a fire test, Chellammal gave him a life without peace, testing his mettle at
home, not with her character but with her frail health. The condition of her
body became so weak. Pillai had to face two pronged problems—persistent issues
of livelihood outside and an insistent wound that eats up from inside at home!
Brahma Nayagam was working in a cloth shop. The shop owner
gave him an amount of wages that was just enough to keep two bodies alive.
Chellammal’s disease ate up half of it and further spread its tentacles out in
the name of debts.
The miseries that rose from Brahma Nayagam’s heart would
first become a wound, then get healed, and then become a scar. There was
nothing known as a date of salary. It was a customary practice that he would
get a paltry amount as and when he was in need. It meant that he had to make a
prior assessment of what his probable requirements were in the coming days,
strive hard to make his owner’s mind softer, remind him daily, and beg him
despite being fully aware that he would be disappointed. Finally he would
return home with the money after every nerve of his perseverance was tested
by his owner. It was how the company he worked was functioning. This was
how he had to prioritise his requirements in instalments. Most of the time, he
would spend the amount he kept for addressing one problem on another important
need that would pop up abruptly. Then, he would spend the rest of his days
using the occasional 'waterways' called installments to irrigate his boundless
desert of livelihood requirements with the deftness of a snake trying to
swallow its own tail.
Chellammal’s body became so fragile. Her disease, along with
relentless mental agonies and hunger, had made her permanently sick. Her
healthy countenance in the morning would disappear in the evening. Considering
her condition and the need to be frugal, Brahma Nayagam Pillai chose to live in
a house without electricity on the city’s outskirts with fewer bustles. He
would start in the morning after filling his tummy and reach the place of his
livelihood by walking with a food packet in his hand. When it got dark, he
would return to his home when other able-bodied people were sitting leisurely
after dinner. His dinner would be decided only on the basis of Chellammal’s
condition that day. If the house was dark and the outer entrance door was kept
closed without being locked, then the prospect of satisfying the hunger of two
living beings would be possible only after he lit the stove after washing his
hands and legs and completing all his rituals. While reaching home, all the
shops in that area would be closed, which would in turn force him to manage his
dinner with the available ration at home. We must understand ‘available ration’
meant just shiny empty utensils lying there. Even during such an ordeal,
Pillai’s willpower would never get shaken. He would ensure that his wife is
served at least with hot water.
Living in penury, Brahma Nayagam Pillai somehow managed to
spend ten years of his life in Chennai. At times, a spirited thought of
visiting his native place did come through his mind. However, his ineptitude
would fill in, with disappointment and helplessness from doing so. Further, he
was very much frightened to think how things at his village would be.
He used to discuss the ways and means to come out of his
problems and the pleasures of undertaking a joyous journey to his native place
with the dead body lying in front of him when it was able to breathe but
couldn’t speak. When Chellammal would develop cracks on her already dried lips
when she laughed at his words out of her occasional zeal. Their gossip about
their possible village visits served as an aphrodisiac, which rendered them
forgetting their current problems.
2
That day, when Brahama Nayagam stepped out of his house in
the early morning with the box in hand containing yesterday’s leftover rice, he
found Chellaamal moving around in the house. She told him that she would
prepare his favourite horse gram paste and tamarind mixed side-dish for him so
that he could eat sumptuously after his return in the evening. Then she left
for the backyard with the ash of burnt chaff in her hands.
“It is only today you could recover a bit from your illness.
Don’t get your body tired unnecessarily” Brahma Nayagam paused a while after
crossing the entrance door and warned his wife. He pulled the doors from
outside, balanced both the doors together with one hand, inserted his finger
through the gap between the beam and door and latched the door brilliantly from
inside. He pushed the door once to ensure that the latch had properly fixed
itself in the hook, came onto the street and started walking. On his way,
his mind was occupied with the thoughts that revolved around his shop owner’s
disposition and Chellammal’s ordinary worldly desires.
During their casual talk day before last night, Chellammal
told him while giving a compress for her chest pain, “For Pongal, we need to
cook with the rice brought from home. We can visit our native place at least
once. While coming, we can bring gooseberry Adai and Muruku
vathtal too.”
Her words sounded commendably praiseworthy anyway. But he
thought, instead of asking for it, she could have either asked him to bring
some tiger milk or learned some magic tricks from the Lord Brahma. Had she
asked these, he would have never thought that they were impossible dreams.
“Why not! Let’s see. Purattasi (a Tamil
month) is not yet over. We need to think about Pongal only after that. Don’t
we?” he replied.
“You are right. But if only you inform them of this now, they
will do something in favour of you,” she explained the necessity of informing
in advance. What she meant by “they” was his shop owner, Pillai.
“Diwali doesn’t get you bothered as you will get everything
from your shop. But what will I get this year for Diwali?” She asked him.
“Whatever you like, let’s purchase it. That is it. First, you
sit straight with your head up,” Brahma Nayagam laughed.
‘What reason should I write in the credit register to get
the money for her? Old debt has not yet been paid off! If I keep on increasing
the debt, will they permit it?’ Brahma Nayagam was thinking about these
all through his way. He entered the shop, kept his food packet and upper
raiment in a corner meant for his exclusive use. “What happened, Perama
Nayagam? Why are you late this Nazhigai? Do you think that
someone will come here to open this shop? Alright…alright…Go upstairs and bring
the half piece of 703. Along with that, bring that bundle of vests kept in the
North corner”—the order of his shop owner pushed him into his daily routine of
the company. “One yard…two yards…silk…dying thread… Salem…Kollegal….
Poplin…Twill…the sounds echoed as if Brahma Nayagam was sincerely praying to
the God of his stomach. At nine, he went to his shop owner, Pillai, explained
his problems hesitantly, and packed three saris in his upper raiment for
displaying as specimens. He then came out of the shop.
3
Brahma Nayagam kept the bag at the entrance, deftly inserted
his fingers through the gap between the door and beam with his usual expertise,
and got the latch released. A dog that seemed to have been swallowed by
darkness was howling in slumber. Its sound of yearning rose like a wave one
after the other and faded gradually.
Brahma Nayagam pushed the door, opened it, and entered the
house.
There was no light in the house. He thought that she must
have slept, though the time was not up. He took out a matchbox from the
entrance beam and lit the small lamp kept nearby. That lamp that emitted light
like a firefly presented the darkness in its full intensity. His shadow in its
dim light was looking monstrous on the wall.
He crossed the hall and entered. Chellammal was lying on her
left with her left hand supporting her head under it, on a sari spread on the
floor. The right hand was hanging lifeless on the other side. Her position
revealed that she was not sleeping. Brahma Nayagam bent forward and showed the
lamp in front of her face. Her eyes looked up. Only a mild quiver on her chest.
The breathing, though steady, was thin. He raised his head.
While going to the backyard, he noticed the kitchen. The food
was kept prepared in an orderly manner. Hot water was boiling in the stove.
Unconcernedly he took some water from the tub and washed off
his legs and hands. Entered the room again, tweaked the wick of the mud lamp,
and lighted it. He took out a piece of dry ginger and a matchbox from the niche
nearby and came back to the inner hall. He lighted the standing lamp kept near
the wall and then sat near Chellammal. Her hands and legs were chilled. He
poured camphor oil on his palm, firmly rubbed both the palms till it generated
sufficient warmth, and brought its pungent aroma near to her nose but in vain.
He poured the oil in his hand and applied it on her nose and head with a mild
shiver in his body. He then brought hot water in a utensil and gave compresses
on her hands, legs, and chest. He could not administer it comfortably as she
was lying on her one side. He turned her and laid her on her back and
administered the dry ginger smoke again.
After two doses of ginger smoke, Chellammal moved her head a
bit aside to avoid the smoke wafting across her face. A very big sneeze that
almost shook the entire body! She fell unconscious again. Once he blew the
smoke again, Chellammal spoke something feebly, started weeping like a child,
and asked for water.
“Here it is…please open your mouth.” He brought hot water in
a glass and tried it on her mouth. But her teeth were clogged. Again, she fell
unconscious.
Brahma Nayagam used this time-tested treatment that he learnt
through his life-long experiments once again on her. She opened her eyes,
mumbling something inaudible. He looked at him imperceptibly as if asking
questions about where she had actually been.
“When did you come? Where is Mother? How long would she be
waiting for you after cooking?” she asked.
Brahma Nayagam was an expert in giving soothing replies to
such questions coming out of one’s misplaced consciousness and setting it
right. It was not mandatory on his part that he had to give perfect answers to
such questions every time. It was just enough if he could manage with some replies
whenever she asked.
Suddenly, Chellammal caught his hand and shouted at her in a
high pitch, “Maa! Maa! Let’s go to our native place. If that wretched fellow
comes here, he will tie me up here. Cheater! Cheater!”. Her voice became
shrill. Brahma Nayagam wet a cloth in cold water with his left hand and put it
on her forehead.
Chellammal started gibbering again. She could not understand
who was sitting in front of her.
“Maa! Maa! When did you come? Did he send the telegram?” she
asked.
“Yes…just a while ago…I have just received a telegram. How is
your health now?” asked Brahma Nayagam, mimicking her mother. It had been five
years since Chellammal’s mother died. When she blabbered like this in sickness,
she would develop an illusion that her mother was still alive.
“Maa! Please give me some water. He is always like this, ma!
He used to go to the shop, leaving me alone at home very often. When can we
leave for our village? Who has tied my legs and hands? I will never ask you for
a sari anymore. Please don’t tie me up. I can go to my village by crawling
slowly. Aiyo…please leave me…What wrong have I done to you? Can’t you release
me from this? Let me go to my place to meet my mother. After that, you may tie
me up as you want.”
Chellammal fell unconscious once again.
Brahma Nayagam thought of calling the doctor. ‘How can I
leave her just like this? It is far from here. Is it?’ he thought.
Once again, he administered dry ginger medication.
Her pulse rate was steady but slowing down.
Slowly, the fear of her death had started looming in Brahma
Nayagam’s mind. Neither was there the mental agony nor the pain of sorrow of
disregarded words in that fear. Only was there a bitterness felt by the tongue
of a sick person and a peace of mind that was deeper than it. Added to
it, an exasperation of facing futile results despite working hard!!
Chellammal mumbled something and turned her body to the other
side.
Brahman Nayagam turned towards her, leaving compresses he was
giving on her legs, and asked her to ascertain whether she needed anything, as
he didn’t hear what she had uttered. It was when he saw her breath turning
normal. She started sleeping after being released from the clutches of
unconsciousness. The signs of disease found across her face were now faded and
left.
It was not even ten minutes since she slept. Chellammal was
awake again. She tried to reconstruct her scattered memories, scrutinizing her
body as to why it became wet.
“My head is aching.” She said indistinctly.
“My body is paining inch by inch”—she” closed her eyes
slowly.
“Don’t get your mind bugged up. Sleep peacefully. You will be
alright in the morning, he said.
“Hmm,” she murmured. She got up and said, “My tongue is dry…I
need some water.”
“Please don’t get up. You might fall down,” he supported her
back and gave her a glass of hot water.
She touched the glass and told him, “I don’t need this. Give
me cold water. Tongue is very dry.”.
He tried convincing her not to take cold water, telling her
it was not good for health in her condition and only warm water was good for
her. As she did not heed his words, he decided that it was better to give her
cold water than to make her weaker by furthering the argument. He gave her cold
water and made her lie down gently.
In seconds later she closed her eyes; she opened it again and
asked him, “I am asking only you. When did you come? Have you had your
dinner?”
“I have eaten. You better sleep now. Don’t bother yourself
with unnecessary thoughts one after the other,” Brahma Nayagam said. His reply
fell into her ears, not into her consciousness. Chellammal then slept.
Finally, when Brahma Nayagam settled on the Coco grass mat
spread on the floor pointing towards the entrance with a yawning, ‘Muruga,’ he
heard the crowing sound of a rooster indicating dawn. The world had come out of
its slumber. But it did not give a space for our Pillai to sleep for a while.
He was sitting there holding his knees together. His mind was wavering from one
place to another, thinking about the past events unrelated to each other.
It was dawn. The distinct clatters of women who were
carrying ‘summadu’ on their heads for selling vegetables and
those who were selling vegetables in their push carts, which they could
purchase as their business did well, chased our Pillai away from the temple of
his contemplation. He entered in, bent forward, and watched her closely. With
her hands folded in support of her cheeks and lips curled on one side, she was
lying asleep.
‘Something hot while she is getting up should be given, as it
would help her delicate stomach,’ he thought. He went inside the hall, lit the
stove, and then went to the backyard.
When he returned with a chant of ‘Muruga,’ smearing
‘vibhoothi’ on his forehead, he saw Chellammal sitting on the bed, tying her
untidy hair. She looked up to him with a whine.
“How do you feel now? It seems that you have slept well.”
Brahma Nayagam said.
Slightly tilting her head, Chellammal scratched her scalp
with her fingers, arched her eyebrows, and asked him, “My whole body is so weak
as if I were beaten up every inch of my body. If I get something hot to eat
now, I may feel good.”.
“I am preparing coffee with palm sugar. After brushing your
teeth, have it as you like. Do you need hot water for brushing teeth?” asked
Brahma Nayagam.
“Keep the hot water in the backyard. I will go after a while
and brush my teeth,” replied Chellammal.
“It sounds damn stupid what you talk…Have you forgotten how
you were struggling yesterday? You should not move unnecessarily. Should
you?”
“I am unable to understand what had happened to you. You have
grown so brazen these days.” Chellammal collected her dress and got up. Her
legs were trembling.
Gasping heavily, she anchored her palm firmly on the wall to
get up. Brahma Nayagam came forward reflexively and grasped her shoulder.
“Take me to the backyard. Let me brush my teeth. I am unable
to stand,” she told him.
Somehow dealing with her obstinate arguments niftily, Brahma
Nayagam took her to the backyard carefully and made her sit.
After brushing her teeth, when she came back to her bed with
the persistent complaints about her frailty, her body was found completely
weak. Soon after she lay down on the bed, she was overtly exhausted, and she
closed her eyes.
Brahma Nayagam brought coffee after making it warm and told
her, “It is now suitable to drink. Don’t complain that it has become cold.”.
She could not even reply to this. She just raised her hand and swayed it
dismissively. After some time, she opened her eyes slowly. Anchoring her palm
on the floor, she rose and sat with visible difficulties.
She dipped her fingers in the coffee in the glass and told
him, “It is not hot at all. Are there any remains of ember in the stove? Keep
this on it and then bring it to me?”
“Keep it aside. I have some more hot coffee. I will bring
that.”. He brought hot coffee in a separate tumbler. She gave herself a
chest compress with that hot coffee; she started drinking it leisurely in small
sips. She asked him, “What did you eat?”
“There was some old rice. I just had a ball of it. Please
drink the coffee fast. Let me go to the doctor for consultation,” he told her.
“I don’t need any doctor anymore. I need nothing. Nothing has
happened to me. Don’t waste your money. If I eat something sour, I may feel
good. There was some fermented Dosai batter. Wasn’t there? What did you do with
that?” she enquired.
“Fermented…sour…nonsense. Go to sleep after drinking coffee.
I will bring the doctor. It seems that you have totally forgotten how you were
yesterday.” He stood up.
“Why are you wasting that coffee? You can drink it.”
Chellammal told him.
Brahma Nayagam went out in search of a doctor and brought a
Sidda medicine expert who was looking more like a famine-hit soul. When they
both entered the house, Chellammal was not found on the bed.
The sound of dosa being roasted in oil was heard from the
kitchen. He requested the doctor to sit on the mat and entered the kitchen.
“Whatever I say, it never gets into your ears. Are you still a kid?” Pillai
rebuked her.
Sweating profusely, Chellalammal was busy with the task,
which was notably beyond her capability at that point in time.
The dosai batter was found spilled over as her hands were trembling.
One dosai was found completely burnt. She was watching
the dosai pan along with all her other paraphernalia, such as oil,
chili powder, etc., with the hope that the forthcoming dosai would
come out perfectly.
Chellammal looked at him and smiled.
“Enough of your smile. Stop it. The doctor has come. Get up,
he lifted her, holding her hands.
“Let me take out the dosa pan and then come.
Wait” .
“First you get up.” He removed the dosa pan from the stove
with the help of a trowel.
“You may leave. I will come myself in a while.” She adjusted
her untidy dress, tottered, followed him, and somehow managed to sit on the
mat.
The doctor examined her pulse. He asked her to stick her
tongue out and examined that too.
“Amma! In this condition, you must not walk. Your body has
become very fragile as you lack strength. You must drink only milk porridge for
another three days. Once you gain some strength in your body, we can start
giving medicines. Please stop drinking coffee for some time. Only milk in the
morning and night. Porridge in the afternoon. You must not move out of bed
under any circumstances. Sir…in case she falls unconscious, mix this red
metallic oxide with honey and apply it on her tongue. Apply this oil on her
nasal septum and temple. I will come again after three days. He left after
charging one rupee for the medicines.
“What is the need of bringing a doctor for this silly matter
with a suggestion of drinking milk porridge? Aaiiii…I am not a sick person.
Aren’t I? We don’t need a doctor to diagnose that my body is weak. Do we? Isn’t
it quite common that humans will get unconscious? Let it come…it will go the
way it came.” Chellammal reasoned.
At this time, a voice came from the entrance. “Aiya ... aiya
...”
“O! Is it Munusamy? Please come in. They have sent you here
to enquire why I have not come. Haven’t they? Inform them that my wife was not
well yesterday; she is fortunate that she is alive today. Tell them I would
come tomorrow if possible. Munusamy! May you do a favour for me? There is a cow
shed in the opposite division. Milkman Naidu will be there. Tell him that I had
called him and bring him here,” Brahman Nayagam sent him.
“Don’t find excuses in my name for not going to the shop. Go
to the shop and bring your salary” Chellammal told him.
“O! I forgot to tell you. Yesterday I brought some sample
saris for you. Have a look at them. Select one that you like. We can return the
ones that you don’t prefer.” Brahma Nayagam brought that bundle in front of
her.
“I saw the bundle in the morning. I thought of asking you
about it. I too forgot it.” Chellammal opened the bundle and took out those
three saris, flipping them one by one.
“I like this green colour sari. How much does it cost?” she
asked.
“It is none of your concern. Select the one you like.” He
kept the green colour sari in the almirah, packed the remaining two in a
bundle, and kept it at a corner of the wall.
“I am again warning you. Don’t waste the money on unnecessary
expenses and stand helplessly in the end. Take my words seriously,” Chellammal
admonished him.
He arranged milk for three days with milkman Naidu, who just
came to meet him. He told Munusamy to get fifteen rupees from the shop owner in
his name and asked him to deposit the sari bundle with the shop owner.
4
That day, the condition of Chellammal’s body was becoming
worse ever since she lay on the mat. Body temperature shot up. As he was busy
attending to her in the afternoon, the milk porridge prepared for her had
become cold like a paste. Brahma Nayagam tried to give it to her hot by mixing
hot water. As she had developed an allergy due to weakness, she vomited it at
once. But the feeling of nausea did not stop. As the allergic reaction
continued, Chellammal kept on vomiting again and again. As a result, her body
became weak, and all the old issues started popping up their heads.
Other than his aching hands due to consistent massaging of
her hands and legs while sitting beside her, he could find no improvement in
her health. At 3 o'clock, Chellammal became fully unconscious due to excessive
tiredness. Now she became anxious that she would die at any time. At
times, her nose and hands developed convulsions and got pulled inwards.
“Something is serious with my health. I don’t feel good. Why
can’t we consult another doctor?” Chellammal asked.
“As the body is weak, you are feeling like this. As I have
told you, you should have taken rest without troubling your body. Don’t be
afraid. Everything will be alright.” Brahma Nayagam assuaged her.
Seeing her condition, he too felt that something was amiss.
“The milkman will arrive shortly. After keeping the milk, I will go to the
doctor and bring him here. Should I write a letter to Kunnathur aunt to come
here?” he asked her.
“What is the use of writing to her? Is it possible for her to
come here all the way, travelling that distance alone? Can you prepare
coffee with palm sugar for me? This vomiting might stop with it.” Chellammal
closed her eyes.
“Stuff this piece of mango seed in your mouth. I will bring
coffee in a while.” He went into the kitchen. When he was about to make
the water hot in a utensil with the remains of ember in the oven, the milkman
came.
Brahma Nayagam kept the palm sugar coffee near her. He poured
the boiled milk into a separate utensil and went out of the house to call the
doctor.
“Come soon. My condition is getting worse, I guess.” She told
him without opening her eyes. Her condition was almost lifeless. The creaking
sound of the outer door announced the exit of Brahma Nayagam Pillai.
When he returned home, it was already dusk. He was waiting in
front of the house of a petty LMP for his arrival. But he did not arrive. As
his fears became manifold as they were immensely influenced by his imagination,
he kept a letter mentioning his address, begging him to come immediately, and
returned home.
What he saw after entering the home left him hell shocked.
Chellammal was lying unconscious near the front yard. The coffee, which she had
drunk just a while ago, was seen vomited, spilled all over the place. He
lighted the lamp immediately. He wiped off her body, which reeked of vomit,
with hot water, lifted her, and put her on the bed.
He mixed the red metallic oxide the doctor gave with honey
and applied it on her tongue. He applied the oil on her nose, hands, and legs.
She could not regain her consciousness. Her breath was slower. He was trying to
bring her consciousness back with liberal application of oil on her body.
A rickshaw arrived at that time. “Sir…Is there anyone
inside?” The doctor called out and came in with his hand box and
poverty-stricken appearance.
“Thank God…You have come at the appropriate time.” Brahma
Nayagam received him with his endearing words.
“What had happened now?” The doctor sat beside her and
examined her hands. He tried to open her mouth. Her teeth remained
clogged.
“Bring a matchbox if you have one. I need to give her an
injection, the doctor said.
Brahma Nayagam ran to the kitchen, totally oblivious
that one matchbox was available in the entrance beam. While waiting for Brahman
Nayagam, the doctor looked upward and accidentally saw a matchbox kept on the
entrance beam. He lighted the spirit lamp and sterilized the injection needle
in the flame. Brahma Nayagam brought a matchbox with an overblown ignorant
smile. He was profusely sweating. The doctor asked Brahma Nayagam to hold her
hand near the light and injected the medicine into her body. Both were looking
at her for a couple of seconds.
Chellammal started whining and moved slowly.
The doctor kept all his equipment in his box unhurriedly. He
asked Brahma Nayagam to bring some soap nut powder. Brahma Nayagam gave him a
piece of white soap, which he used for washing his dhoti. The doctor washed his
hands silently and told him, “It seems that she is sleeping. Don’t wake her up.
In case she is awake, give her milk. You know… it is very uncomfortable for you
to keep such cases at home, sir… Better take her to the hospital”. The doctor
left with his medicine kit box.
Brahma Nayagam followed him and asked softly, “How is she
now?”
“I can’t say anything now. Come to me in the morning to
inform me of her condition. Let us consider something appropriate after that.
Please give a quarter of an Ana to this rickshaw puller. He boarded
the rickshaw. The coins he was holding in his pocket now went to the hands of
that ‘human bull.’. He stood there for some time watching the rickshaw leave
and went inside his house.
Chellammal was sleeping.
Without making a sound, Brahma Nayagam went near her and sat
beside her. His eyes were glued upon her, watching her with an apprehension
that she might get up if he touched her.
A fly sat on her chest. It seemed that it didn’t like to sit
on the soft cloth on her chest. Again it went up flying and sat on her palm.
Again it went up and was flying in circles as if it got confused about where to
sit. At last it sat on her lips.
“Thooo…thooo.” She got up, spitting it out, wiping
her mouth with her elbow.
She kept staring at him for some time.
“You don’t show any mercy on me. Do you? How could you leave
me like this?” She scolded him.
“When I am not here, you should not move here and there.” He
caressed her cheeks tenderly.
“It seems that I will die for sure. So don’t make it
unnecessarily grand,” she told him as she closed her eyes.
“As your body is exhausted, you feel like that. Can I press
your legs?” He endearingly stroked her legs.
“O…God! My entire body is aching. I feel extremely cold from
inside. Hold my hands and stay with me.” She grasped his hands with both of her
hands and closed her eyes.
She was silent for a moment and then told him without opening
her eyes, “I want to meet my mother.”
“Why not? I will send a telegram tomorrow. What a big deal
about it!” Brahma Nayagam said.
A fear began to haunt him. ‘Has she lost her senses?’?
“uumm… on’t waste your money. A letter is enough. She will
not come anyway. Will she?” “You please go to the shop tomorrow,”
Chellammal told him.
“Please don’t think about unnecessary things. Sleep well.” He
released his hands from her hands and stroked her forehead.
“It is paining. I feel thirsty. Need some hot water?” she
asked.
“Hot water will make your stomach upset. Just now you have
vomited. He took her hands into his palms and looked at her face. The gleam of
countenance that was present on her face in the morning was not present there
now. Her lips became dull bluish in colour. She licked her lips often to avoid
it becoming dry.
“I feel something palpitating faster in my chest,” she told
him.
“It is all because of weakness. Don’t be afraid.” He massaged
her chest slowly.
A second later, she asked him, “I am hungry. Give me that
milk. I will sleep.”
“Just a second. I will bring it.” Brahmam Nayagam ran inside.
To his shock, the milk was lying spoiled. There was a dried lemon on the rack.
He squeezed it in the hot water, mixed some sugar in it, brought it to her, and
sat near her. He brought the heat of lemonade down to the level of a
comfortable sip.
“Chellamma,” he called out to her softly.
There was no reply. Her breath was steady.
“Chellamma, the milk has become bad. I will give you lemon
juice. Drink it and sleep.”
She moved her head sluggishly to indicate “yes.”.
He poured it into a small glass and fed it to her mouth
carefully. After taking two sips, she bobbed her head in denial.
“Why…that lamp is….?” She did not complete the sentence. Her
whole body shook with a hiccup. Her chest went up once and came down before
subsiding. Her legs and hands were pulled inwards with spasms.
Once her tremors got settled, Pillai gave her lemon juice. It
spilled out on both sides of her mouth.
He kept the glass aside and touched her.
Only the body remained there.
Without taking off his hands, he watched his gigantic shadow
on the wall. It was looking as if its big hands were digging out the life of
Chellemmal from her chest.
He tried all the remaining medicines on her body that the
Sidda doctor gave him.
Soon he realized that it was beyond his hands; he tried a
husk compress on her.
A drop of sweat from his forehead fell on her eyelids.
He closed the half-opened eyes. He stretched out the legs
fully, which were crumpled due to the seizure.
He kept the hands folded on her chest.
Sitting beside her, he heard the sound of boiling hot water
hitting somewhere in his consciousness.
He went inside and made hot water warm enough, which
Chellammal usually preferred for a cozy bath.
He brought the body. ‘Chellammal was never this heavy.
But it is very heavy now. Isn’t it?’ he thought.
The head was not steady. It slid down on one side.
He made the body sit on its back against his knees and bathed
it with a cauldron full of water. As he didn’t know the place where the
turmeric was kept, he did not give her a bath with it. He wiped the body with
his towel.
He carried it again inside and laid it on the bed. He covered
it with a green-colored sari, which he had bought for her. He smeared Kumkum
and Vibhoothi on its forehead. He lit a standing lamp near her head. He
remembered frankincense, which he purchased long ago for Saraswathi Puja. He
sprinkled it on ember and kept a basket full of paddy.
He performed all funeral-related ceremonies scrupulously that
he was supposed to complete and kept looking at her.
He felt suffocated in the hall. He came to the outer entrance
and stood on the street.
The needle-like icy wind patted his body.
Among other stars strewn around in an undisciplined manner,
the conglomeration of the Trisanku star system fell in his eyes. He did not
know anything about astronomy. The legs of the Sanku constellation
were caught in the tip of a tall, black, sharp tower, unable to rise or set in.
“Aiya...” Munusamy called him.
He gave him some currency notes. “Owner gave this. How is
Mother now?” he asked Pillai.
“Mother is dead. You keep these notes with you. I will give
you a message for sending a telegram. After sending it, do inform this matter
to the owner too. While returning, inform the barber as well,” he told him.
He spoke calmly. There was no tremor in his voice.
Shocked, Munusamy ran away to send the telegram.
Brahma Nayagam Pillai came in and sat. He sprinkled some more
frankincense powder in the ember.
The fly once again flew around her body and sat on her face.
Brahma Nayagam kept on fanning slowly with a leaf fan to
prevent it from sitting.
In the early morning, a sound of dirge from a double conch
was heard outside, seemingly to suppress the duplicity found in the dirge of
the woman who sang it without genuine grief.
----End----
Translated from
Tamil: Saravanan
Karmegam
Source: A
complete works of Puthumai Pithan (புதுமைப்பித்தன் சிறுகதைத் தொகுப்பு) compiled by
Vetha Sagaya Kumar, Puthumai pithan Pathippagam.
Translated from Tamil: Saravanan Karmegam
Source: A complete works of Puthumai Pithan (புதுமைப்பித்தன் சிறுகதைத் தொகுப்பு) compiled by Vetha Sagaya Kumar, Puthumai
pithan Pathippagam.
