This is an English translations of “Mirugam”, s short story written by Vanna Nilavan. Translated from Tamil by Saravanan Karmegam.
***
There was nothing other than some dried wood sticks in the
fibre basket. But yet it weighed heavy. Keeping it on the ground, Sivanu Nadar
sat upon a stone standing erect on the side. He felt disgusted with his own
body odour. It had been more than seven or eight days since he last smoked beedi.
The stench of beedi was still lingering in his mouth.
The backyard entrances of all houses lying in a row were
silent. Four or five houses away, only one crow was seen, sitting on a mud
wall, staring at him. ‘While going to Maliayachi Amman Temple yesterday
morning, a crow flew across above the head.’ It would have been at least three
days since he last saw a crow. Thinking that if the same crow was sitting on
the mud wall, he turned his face towards the opposite house.
A white dog was trying to open the backyard entrance of the
house, sneaking its face into the gap between the doors. The door opened a bit
and then closed again. Sivanu Nadar was equally happy and surprised. He got up
swiftly and walked towards his house. Hearing his footsteps, the dog turned
towards him, looked at him, and resumed its effort to open the door again. He
bent down, groping for a stone. No stone was found nearby. He then removed some
broken bricks and road metals from the mud wall, which stood half damaged in
the rain, and threw them at the dog. The dog ran away and stood at a distance.
Before it ventured again to come into the house, he opened the door and got
into the house. Once he closed the door, he could hear the presence of the dog
near the door. After entering the house, he found himself greatly relaxed.
He had come to that house very frequently earlier. He had
attended to all the errands of marriage conducted in that house. It was a house
with just two halls. Next to the kitchen, there was a dining hall. Outside the
dining hall, there was a veranda with lattice.
It took time for him to see the things clearly in the
kitchen. The smell mixed with the ash in the oven came floating along with
darkness. After a while, he could see the things slowly. He opened the windows
above the oven. Nothing was there in the kitchen other than the ashes not yet
removed from the oven and a small bowl kept on the side.
The dining hall door was not kept closed; it remained open.
The cloth used to close the mouth of the granary standing in the rear of the
door was found lying below. He bent down and looked into the granary. Some
grains of paddy were found on the dust accumulated over there. He tried hard to
move the big wooden box that was lying locked near the granary. Some utensils
fell down and rolled down on the floor. Only one photograph with cobwebs was
hanging above the front entrance. He scrutinised everyone in the photograph
intently. He knew all of them very well. He felt uncomfortable standing in that
room after that.
When he was about to leave, he saw an old oval tin behind the
door opposite to the granary. He walked up to it, craving to see it, though. He
was happy to see ants going out of it. He lifted the tin box, opened its lid,
and looked in it. Some jaggery powder was sticking to its bottom. He could
prepare coffee two times with it. He sat in front of the door, placed the box
on the floor, and mildly tapped it. The ants scattered around haphazardly. He
could see the kitchen door opening a bit and then closing and the black snout
of the dog whenever the door gave away a gap.
In a while, all the ants disappeared. He went near the door
with the tin box and hid himself behind it. This time, when the dog tried to
enter, thrusting its face into the gap, he leaned against the door and pressed
hard with all his strength. An odd barking mixed with an unusual howling and
sound, which he hadn’t heard before, came from the dog. He was afraid that he
might let the door loose after hearing that unusual sound. After a strong jerk,
the door closed properly and got fixed with the entrance frame. He turned back
and stood looking at the door with fear. That odd sound with unusual howling
kept coming from outside and slowly waned after some time. There were drops of
blood on the door where the dog tried pushing its face inside. Still unable to
come out of his fear, he held the tin box tightly, stood for some time, and
then came out of the house.
Outside the door, the nail scratches of the dog when it tried
to pull its face back from the door gap were found haphazardly on the floor and
at the bottom of the door. The blood was still dripping, intermittently though.
The colour of the blood didn’t seem to be that of a human. It was more viscous
and orange in colour. Lifting his head, when he looked yonder at the opposite
side, the same crow that he saw earlier was still sitting on a mud wall four or
five houses away and kept staring at him. He swayed his hand along with the tin
box, trying to scare it off. No word came out from his mouth. The crow was
sitting without any movement. He bent down and picked up a broken brick, which
he used to throw at the dog, and threw it at it. He expected that the crow
would fly away from there. But the crow just moved to another mud wall a couple
of houses away, sat there, and kept staring at him again.
With an apprehension that the dog might be hiding somewhere
around, he threw his eyes all around as much as he could and carefully walked
towards his house. Seeing all the houses in that street kept closed sent out a
fear in him even in that broad daylight. He thought that the dog might attack
him from some unknown corner. As a precaution, he walked in the middle of the
street so that he could run for shelter easily if the dog came in front of him.
While coming near to his house, he remembered his fibre basket.
Once he entered his house and closed the door hurriedly, he
felt a sort of calmness of mind, which he had never experienced so far. There
were only three matchsticks in the matchbox. As he was convinced with a
certainty that he could light a fire with one stick, he started making all the
arrangements for lighting a fire.
He didn’t go out of the house that evening and night. When he
woke up from sleep in the morning, he looked out of the window. The dog was
sitting there at the entrance.
***End***
