The Hue that My Fingers Hated (Oodhaa Nira Viralgal) by M. Gopala Krishnan

This is an English Translation of “Oodhaa Nira Viralgal”, a short story written by M. Gopala Krishnan. Translated from Tamil by K. Saravanan. This is 24th English Translation in the Classic Tamil Short Stories series.

M Gopala Krishnan

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 a 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 tongue. Tears rolled down from the eyes, fell upon my elbows. Victim of police brutality! If anyone had predicted by 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 in it. However, I would have got frightened at it and could have done something of my best to avoid that situation. But, it was all over, I had got 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 North Zone. It was a dull, post-lunch afternoon; extremely scorching sun light 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 in lightning speed. As he was a known person to me, I stood on 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 at 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 in 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 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 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 any one did 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 - manifestation of his anger of 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, 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 hang, with the heaviness of pain.

When I came out, the scorching yellowish rays of the sun were extremely harsh, 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 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, saw it. It was Thangaraju who had phoned me. The person who was sitting beside the driver seat, with 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, it became 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 rumble with uneasiness. It seemed that my burden would ease if someone was, at least, ready to listen to my words. Even it happened, I suspected whether they would believe in what I would be saying. Would they? ‘What else I could do?’

I closed my eyes. My wife, Saroja used to tell me that I should pray to Lord Murugan whenever I face such 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 her 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 enquiry? Will they send me back home after the enquiry? 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 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. O! God! Why did I go to this doomed place today and 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 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 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 half feet land in 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 leaves juices out, sat in the shade of a neem tree standing near the torch wood fence.

“Yes…he had encroached one and 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, 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, brought the copy of the title deed. The document was found neatly calculated and perfect in details. When Venkat Raman asked him hesitatingly to permit us to measure the house, he didn’t become angry, accepted his suggestion readily, and told, “When we have reason to suspect, it has to be sorted out in 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 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 crow bar 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, the road which was full of trees didn’t have signs of any human activity. Neon lights were shining at the top of 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 in 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, 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, 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 wash room 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 in my fingers. I stared blankly at it. It was the evidence. I was not the one who received bribe, but the one who gave! ‘Giving and receiving bribe is a crime. Isn’t it? What is the punishment for it? Does the law punish someone who is implicated as giver of 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 sun light 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 got completed. I would have also returned home thinking that the inspector hadn’t arrived on that day and could have weaved four yards of cloth in my loom. It was all my bad time. Wasn’t it? It was my bad time 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 was there to talk. Making me sit, wait at a heavily silent and lonely place was completely unbearable for me. Sitting idle without knowing what for this wait 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 reply?’ The slap I received earlier was still paining. 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 bribe? Or who did I want to bribe? Or how much I wanted to bribe? Only these 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 of slapping 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 pocket when Chinnu whisked 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 enquire, 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 that I had come to Coimbatore on some urgent work and would return home next day morning. They might ask me about the urgency of work that demanded 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 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 enquire about me? The watch man 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 wasn’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 in 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 troubles? There is a possibility that I will be snooped 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 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, 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 watch man, 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 a 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 enquiry 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 face in a rage due to impulsive momentary anger, the slaps remained as slaps just to remind me 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, kept 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. Ain’t I? But there is no one to listen to me. Now, I can’t bear my hunger any longer, whatever be 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, 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 gained my trust in it. 

It was Barotta¹. I flipped it in the kuruma ² 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 the dusk. After a brief bath, I would be served with a hot milk tea.

Wearing my half sleeves shirt, while stepping out of the house, my grand-daughter doing her homework, with her head bent down, at the veranda would ask me aloud, “Grand pa…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 the Second street, was there 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 when 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, start rolling the yarns in the bobbins for weaving it 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 leaving 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 these nervousness and restlessness won’t get reduced with intake of tablets. Will it? The time can’t be past ten. Despite the body had 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, stood meekly.

“What have you done, you blokes!! I asked you all to go on a wild goose chase but you have caught a lice 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 like me? People say that the eyes 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 and pushed its whiskers forward, mewed, left me without taking its eyes off from 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 of 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 elongated, was brightly lighted. The wavy cigarette smoke filled in the room. There was big table at the left most corner of the room. Pictures were animating on the computer screen. A man with 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. Plum cheeks and fully shaven face, without 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 ash tray, looking at me with disdain as if I was an ignoble piece 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”. Stood confused whether I should add suffix with 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 was 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 were 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, 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, 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 hand kerchief, I heard the sound of foot step. ‘Are they coming out?’ I rose, 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, “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 wash room, 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, thought prudently. ‘If they inform them by now, they may get unnecessarily panic. Let the things happen the way it was 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 he could have taken after watching those video footages and me? Here every one 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, sat down on the floor. Even in my wild imagination I had never thought that such thing would happen to me. My affinity with Tiruppur police station was nothing beyond a mere glance of it while going by that way in the bus. Further I had heard that 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 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 pumpkin smeared with saffron powder, thrown at in front of the house at the time of house warming ceremony hasn’t yet got 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 amount it is. People told that I would have to pay only one third of the levied amount if I could manage meeting the Tax Inspector. More than half of the people who were present there had come for doing 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 lungi as I couldn’t identify him. I leaned against the wall, 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 ears made my heart beating 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 wash room, peeping into the room. Yet they didn’t permit me to go inside. I wanted to have a glance of 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 resist myself from asking for it as I felt that I needed something hot due to the severe head ache.

He turned towards me once and looked at my face once as he drank the tea, flipping the pages of newspaper. The cat wasn’t seen underneath the bench. ‘Even a cat had the freedom to run away from that place, at any times it wants. 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 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 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, went inside. I couldn’t control my trembling. Not sure whether the ‘sir’ has arrived in. Same room. Thangaraj was writing something sitting opposite to the table. Rajendran was sitting beside him. On their left, a man, unknown to me, was sitting. All three turned their face towards me, looked at me. Rajendran came to me, 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 sun light was extremely harsh due to which I couldn’t even lift my head. The cat jumped out from the wall. It stretched its back, 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 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 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?’ Movement of planets isn’t in our favour. Suitable remedy must be taken to address it” Segadanthali Mama’s voice fell into my ears with his trademark tobacco scent. All the relative 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 bed room, Saroja pulled the window curtains down, closed the windows. She wept desolately, not being able to see my face. I took my shirt off, threw it out, 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 with anything. I kept staring at her. She wiped her tears, 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, seeing people for long. If only I share my feeling 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 of that newspaper. What has he written in that? Will it be ‘here is the person who tried to give bribe’? Lakhs of copies must have been sold. Mustn’t have? I have become a 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 hand kerchief 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 a news. Mr Arunachalam, Age 54, from Managalam Nagar, 4^th Street, Tiruppur was caught yesterday when he tried to give bribe. What a life time 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 happened that day. I have taken my due place in the history. My name has been carved in the list of persons arrested by 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, 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, 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 idlies - 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 idlies 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, looked at her. She was sitting, 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 any word, she poured the sambar on the plate. A while ago, I thought of tying knot with the rope, but now 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 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, 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 exuding confidence! Sensitive eyes! Talking to Ramesh gave me strength.

The building was looking an ordinary one with its muted, dull yellow painting. The creepers 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 in 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, no sign of anything.’ Once 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 enquire 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 he 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 they demanded from you?”

“They asked nothing”

Everything went on just as Ramesh had told. I gave simple, monosyllabic replies to each questions 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, saw him. He looked into my eyes and nodded his head. I paid regards to him and came out of the room. I could feel that his eyes were still following me. The cat which ran across, stood for a second, 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 sandal vermilion on his forehead, stiff white shirt with flower-patterns, 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, 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, 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 shop keeper, “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 Hanuman⁵ costume, came running towards me. He was very short in height. A pale costume of a monkey. Curved tail. Some ten rupees 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, smiled at the shop keeper. Wiping his face soaked in sweat, he told, “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, 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 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 have lost all my hope and everyone around me appeared to be cheaters.

 “We are not known to each other. He himself enquired 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 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 enquiry 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, tied 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 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 lesser than a disaster. That day, I went to the loom in the early morning, after cleaning my face, smearing Vibhoothi on forehead, and of course with full of confidence. But the moment I got into the loom, 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 vigour. 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 having 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, locked myself inside. I never attempted going to the loom after that.

“Whatever happened, it had just happened. But you can’t afford wasting your days like this thinking about it and lying here like a sick man. It makes no meaning. 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 half saris yet to be woven. If we complete it, we don’t have 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 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 further 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 which I have recently earned in the 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 a burning sensations on my palms. ‘Her cheeks too will burn like this. Won’t it?’ I lied 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 faster. 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 falls 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 which 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 crumbled paper had my photo in it! I am walking behind him, with my head hanging. Is it me? Even 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 me’, 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 swift 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, fell down. When I opened my eyes, my grand-daughter opened the door, peeping into the room

“Grandpa…” her lisp woke me up.

I got up, wiped my face. I hadn’t even allowed her to come near to me.

“Have you fallen down Grand pa?”

I nodded my head to her, said ‘no’, lifted her and kept 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 injection?”

“mmm…”

“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, wore it as I cleared my ‘tear-swelled’ nose. It was very long since I had taken her to the Ganesh Temple. Wasn’t it? I saw my face in the mirror kept near window. Sunken eyes, darkened face and a thickly grown grey beard. I bore an appearance which 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 on my face, moistening my lips. Lips tried to smile but no grin on 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 grand-daughter twisted her lips, jumped out, 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 to the loom. Only one and half saris were still to be weaved. At the same time, we can’t afford leaving it as such without completing it. Can we?’ The yarns 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 weaved slower than me.

“That fellow came here. Didn’t he?” I asked her.

Halting the weaving, “Who?” she asked. She came out of the loom as she appeared to have guessed who I was referring to.

….

Now-a-days, the assistant of the Inspector frequents to 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 an empty-handed visitor, overtly polite, and says, “Our master has requested you to inform him 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 better say that I didn’t like to meet him. Only when he leaves by his new model bullet bike, I used to see him through the window. He was an enthusiastic youth in white shirt and blue colour jeans pant, 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 investigation. Isn’t he? Sometimes, I used to think what will happen if I say that I had gone there only to give 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 longer period. I have become a totally useless piece of person by confining myself in the darkness. I won’t be able to sustain in this manner. Will I?”

I can extort money from this man. If demanded, he would give 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, and will loot the amount he gave me from others. Cyclic! I don’t want 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 stand.

At the end of eighth month, the investigation of the case came to an end and the judgment was scheduled on eighteenth of the month. Saroja used to light lamps for Goddess Durga during 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, 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 have had already thought over. I couldn’t sleep yesterday night too. My mind was pensively brooding the incident 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 which 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 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 tell what the truth is?’

I didn’t speak anything in front of the judge. The same familiar questions, asked earlier. The same replies 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 no way related to the money he stowed in my pocket. When he was walking along with the police men, I watched him standing at a corner. Rajendram came running to me, face brimming with smile, held my hands, shook it, and patted on my 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 court room. Extremely scorching sun! Wiping the sweat in my neck, while turning I found the bus standing at the bus stop. I glanced at the name board. ‘Marutha Malai’. Momentary, impulsive decision 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, wept desolately. She ran inside. Perhaps, she must have been aware of it. But she couldn’t have expected that I would do such thing. Till at the very last momentary impulsive decision, even I didn’t have any idea of having my head shaved off.

While taking 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 with rice, and made a ball. My grand-daughter, with eagerness, came to me. I gave her the first morsel of it in her hands.

“sss…it’s hot, Grand pa…” she whined, 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 grand pa brought Panjamirtham?”⁶ Thangaraj asked the child, 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 sun light 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, went 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, 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 lesser cost.

I took 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 got convinced with my reply. This was what she had been expecting since long. “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, 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, 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 peeked at the inspector, 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 the pictures hanging in the hall. “Is she your grand- daughter?” 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, “I have caused a lot of troubles for you all. Please don’t keep in your heart.”

She wiped her tears, 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 much 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 talking much and keeping such things in mind either. You please don’t take these things by your 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, told, “It doesn’t matter. You may add sugar in 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, coincidental. That buffoon, Chinnu had caught you into such a problem inadvertently while trying to escape the spot.” He removed his spectacles, cleaned it 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, “Let’s not talk about that matter anymore. It can’t be rectified, reversed, no matter how much I repent for it. I beg you not to keep it in your heart.” He got up, came near, held my hands. I was aghast for a second. My hands were shaking. The slap I got on my cheek flashed like a lightning in my skull.

“It’s alright…You please sit down…” with my words stammering, I pressed his shoulder gently, asked him to sit.

“We are habituated with such things. It happens very often too. But we don’t carry anything in our heart. 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 hand bag 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 on my hands.

I pulled my hands back reflexively. My hands went to my shirt pockets, covered 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 has stuck to my fingers. Looking at it repulsively, I wiped my hands on my shirt. Rajendran told me, endearingly patted on my shoulder, “It’s nothing naa…Please sit”

Saroja brought hot tea, looking angry faced, and was sulking. Without telling anything, she gave the tea. I remained silent for a second. I wiped my hands once again, took the tea cup, gave it to him, “Please drink it sir” I told him.

Rajendran collected all the scattered currency notes, put all of them in his hand bag. 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 oil food stuff 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.   

 

Translated from Tamil by K. Saravanan

Source: “Oothaa Nira Viralgal”, a short story written by M. Gopala Krishnan. This translation has been published in this blog with the permission from the author.