When God met Mr Kanthasami Pillai (Kadavulum Kanthasami Pillaiyum) by Puthumai Pithan

Translated from Tamil by Saravanan Karmegam

 

The only son of Melagaram M. K. Ramasami Pillai, Mr. M.K.R. Kanthasami Pillai, also known as Chellappa, was standing at the safe corner of a junction where ‘Broadway’ and ‘Esplanade’ met and was seriously contemplative about something. ‘If I travel by tram, I need to spend one and a quarter of an anal. I will be able to save a quarter of an ana. In that case, I can have betel leaves and areca nut at a nearby shop and then reach home. If I succeed in hoodwinking the bus conductor by not buying a ticket till the Central Station, I can buy a ticket for Triplicane from there. In that case, I can have a half cup of coffee and then reach home. But no betel leaves… When the conductor himself is inviting me to cheat him, it will be unethical on my part if I disappoint him by not allowing him to get cheated. Won’t it be? If he had given a ticket from the Central Station as I requested him yesterday, I would have had a coffee. It would be good  idea to have a cup of coffee now. Wouldn’t it be?’

When Mr. Pillai, having the aforesaid birth and address credentials, was immersed in such an ethical inquiry, God presented himself in front of him.

However, the God didn’t scare Mr. Pillai to make him indecisive with his sudden appearance. He didn’t insist Mr. Pillai receive the boons from him either; rather, he simply enquired of him, “Sir, how can I go to Triplicane?”

“You can go by tram, or bus or you can walk asking the people for address. You can even find your way to Madurai, provided you are willing to ask” Mr Kanthasami Pillai told.

“I am not going to Madurai. I am just going to Triplicane. Which route is the shortest?” God asked him. Both of them laughed their hearts out.

They managed to come out of the stampeding crowd and came near to a cobbler shop run by an outcast man.

The heir of Melagaram, Ramasami Pillai, was forty-five years old. His slender build looked like he had not eaten food for the last forty-five years. A fully gray-haired head with some black strands. Face not shaven for two weeks. Extremely sharp eyes, which could pick up his friends even if they walked a long way away. Unbleached shirt, unbleached dhoti, and unbleached upper cloth.

Mr. Kanthasami Pillai looked keenly at the person who asked him the route. Though he couldn’t assess his age accurately, he assumed that he must be either sixty years old or could be even sixty thousand years old! But his body was well-built, shining without any signs of deprivation of food during these many years. His hair was completely grey without even a strand of black hair, untied, and falling on his neck majestically like a mane of a lion. At the centre of his throat was a big black mole. It was darker in colour, radiating all around and becoming softer at times like a frenzied man calming down. That laughter! Sometimes that laughter was so scary that it got Mr. Kanthasami frightened. Sometimes, it entices like the smile of a baby.

“I feel thirsty,” God told.

“You won’t get water here. We can have a coffee if you like. Yonder, there is a coffee shop,” Mr. Kanthasami Pillai told.

“You may also join me. Let us see how it tastes,” God told him.

Actually, Mr. Kanthasami Pillai is a very broad-minded man. He never discriminates against people on silly grounds such as strangers or known ones.

“Alright…let’s go,” Kanthasami Pillai told. ‘If he asks me to settle the bill, what will I do?’ Kanthasami Pillai became apprehensive about his motive. Yet, Kanthasami Pillai’s philosophical outlook—‘if someone is not courageous, he will have miseries in life’—emboldened him to go. Both of them entered a big hotel. The God was walking very closely behind Mr. Kanthasami Pillai, brushing him.

They sat by a table. Without giving the server the opportunity to tell the list of items he had mugged up, Mr. Kanthasami shook his head at him, “Two cups of strong coffee…should be hot.”

“Don’t forget the Tamil grammar. You should say ‘two cups of coffee,” God told him.

“You are wrong. It should be ‘two cups of coffee’…” Mr. Kanthasami Pillai established his mastery over Tamil grammar.

Feeling defeated, the God looked upwards and said, “This building is tall and sufficiently ventilated with light. Isn’t it?

“You had thought that a big hotel would look like a chicken coop. Hadn’t you? Are you thinking that is just like building a temple? The health department officials won’t leave you doing that.” Mr. Pillai reinforced his victory over him once again.

Once the word ‘temple’ fell into his ears, God started shivering.

“What does that mean?” God asked him. Despite failure, he didn’t give up. “Explain further what you mean by health.” God asked him.

“O! You ask about health! It means keeping the tables clean with sanitizers to avoid penalty by the health officials. It is a subject taught in the school just to make the boys fail in their examinations. According to it, these flies and mosquitoes are as dangerous as giants. In addition to it, it will be much more dangerous if they come inside hotels like these. It has been written that our life won’t be spared in such cases,” Mr. Kanthasami Pillai told him. He was surprised at his own speech and even suspected whether he was blessed by Goddess Saraswati, who had come to dwell in his tongue.

The God didn’t pay attention to him. He was looking at a fly that was struggling in the puddle of spilled coffee left by someone before they came there. The fly was trying to come out of a near-viscous puddle of leftover coffee.

“Here it is! God shrieked. He stretched out his finger to help it. It flew away. But his fingers had touched the leftover coffee.

“You have touched the leftovers, haven’t you? Take this water and wash your finger under the table,” Pillai told him.

‘The fly shouldn’t come inside. But no big fuss about hygiene if one washes his hands under the table’ . God mumbled to himself.

The server brought two cups of coffee. 

The god drank the coffee. His face displayed a divine shine of drinking Soma Banam 2.

“It’s all my dalliance with it,” God expressed his happiness.

“It’s not your dalliance, sir. It’s the dalliance of the hotel owner. He has mixed up chicory powder with coffee. Your dalliance must be with paying the bills.” Mr. Kanthasami Pillai could somehow put these words into his ears successfully. A sense of being triumphant that he had resolved the problem of paying bills tactfully.

“Chicory powder? What does it mean?” God asked him, raising his head with a doubt.

“Chicory powder will also look like coffee powder. But it’s not coffee. Just like some people cheating the society in the name of God,” Kanthasami Pillai replied.

Immediately after he heard the word ‘god,’ God got startled.

While making the payment for the bills, God gave the hotel owner a new hundred rupee currency note. Mr. Kanthasami Pillai was shocked at seeing it.

“If you need changes for this, you could have asked me. What is the need for three ANA bills? Is it to clean the eyes or the mind?” The hotel owner asked him.

“We just came here to have only coffee,” God told.

“Then, you must be carrying sufficient changes. Don’t you? The hotel owner asked.

As the crowd waiting there after the meals was getting bigger, the hotel owner gave them the balance amount without kicking up a fuss about it. “It’s ninety-nine rupees and thirteen anas—O! Godman! Please count it before leaving.”

“It will be alright for us anyway once you settle it down. Won’t it be? I don’t know accountancy,” God told him.

The hotel owner was happy as he could insert a counterfeit currency note of ten rupees in it while giving him the changes.

Both of them came out of the hotel. There was not much crowd at the entrance. They stood there. The god picked up the fifth currency note from the stack he was holding in his hand, tore it into pieces, and threw it away.

Mr. Kanthasami Pillai suspected whether the person standing beside him was mad. Stunned, he stood there with his mouth wide open.

“It is a counterfeit note. He tried to cheat me. That is why I cheated on him.” God told. The smile on his face was damn scary.

“You should have given it to me. I would have dragged that Brahmin fellow by his tuft.” Kanthasami Pillai, he told angrily.

“Just like the way you are okay with chicory powder, I am also okay with it. Take it easy. For him, only ten rupees was bigger. That is why I allowed him to cheat me,” God reasoned.

Kanthasami felt that it was too much for him, and he wanted to leave him, who had come on his own, and got him a coffee.

“You want to go to Triplicane. Don’t you? Come… let’s get into the tram,” Kanthasami Pillai told him.

“No…I don’t want to travel in the tram. My head will spin. We can reach there if we start walking slowly. Can’t we? Asked God.

“Sir… I have been walking through the whole day. I won’t be able to take a step ahead. Can we take a rickshaw? Kanthasami Pillai asked him. ‘I am the one guiding him the route. So he, the one who could tear off a ten rupee note easily, can bear the cost of the rickshaw too. Can’t he?’ Mr. Kanthasami was thinking in this direction. 

“O! That man-pulled vehicle! Yes… it is a comfortable one for travel,” God was happy.

Both of them boarded the rickshaw. “Sami…wait a second! Let me light the lamp,” the rickshaw puller told them.

It was getting dusk, and electric lights were on.

“Within a very short span of time, we have become so close to each other. Haven’t we? I don’t even know who you are. You don’t know who I am. We are destined to meet in this bustle of the town’s market area. Aren’t we? ...”

The God smiled at him. His teeth shined in the dark. He told him, “Let’s not get bothered about who I am. Could you tell me something about yourself?”

Kanthasami Pillai was always enthusiastic about introducing himself. That too, when he had someone sitting beside him in the rickshaw, he wouldn’t miss the chance to introduce himself. Would he?

“Have you come across a magazine called ‘Sidda Vaidya Theebikai?” Kanthasami Pillai asked him.

“No…” God said.

“It means you are still not familiar with medical science,” Kanthasami Pillai opined.

“I am familiar with it, God replied.

‘What kind of an embarrassment is this?’ Kanthasami Pillai thought. “Let’s consider it the other way round. I mean to say, you are familiar with medical sciences but not with Sidda Vaidya Theebikai. Given that fact, it is sure that your knowledge in medical science is not yet complete. We have all the seventeen years magazines in bound volumes. I request you to come to my home at least once to read them. Only after reading them can you…”

‘They are magazines published in seventeen years. Aren’t they? Seventeen multiplied by twelve…two hundred and four—God shuddered at the calculation of the very number of magazines. Nevertheless, he had a streak of hope that it might be a quarterly magazine.

“Theebikai is a monthly magazine. The annual subscription amount for inland is one rupee. For overseas subscriptions, it is two and three-quarters of a rupee. A lifetime subscription is twenty-five rupees. If you join as a subscriber, there are many benefits you can enjoy. I will send the magazines on a one-year subscription. You can join as a lifetime subscriber later.” He was trying to add God as a subscriber.

‘Apart from dumping seventeen bound volumes on my head, is he thinking of taking away twenty-five rupees from me even before chasing me away? I will never allow him to cheat me. - God thought to himself and asked him, “Whose lifetime is it?”

“It is only your lifetime. Neither is my lifetime nor the age of the magazine. It is an indestructible phenomenon. Even after my death, someone will be running the magazine. I have made the arrangement for that too.” Kanthasami Pillai explained.

That time the rickshaw puller slowed down the rickshaw, turned back, and looked at them.

Mr. Kanthasami Pillai became apprehensive about the co-traveller that he might jump out of the rickshaw if it slowed down.

“Why are you looking behind? Watch out your way… see…one motor vehicle is coming in the front. Don’t hit it. Go fast,” Kanthasami Pillai reproached the rickshaw puller.

“Sami… Are you human beings and some kinds of spirits? It feels like no one is sitting in the rickshaw, as it seems weightless like air, the rickshaw puller said.

“We will pay you also like air. You better pull the rickshaw carefully,” Kanthasami Pillai chided him.

“I am running a Siddha clinic. The earnings from the clinic are somewhat sufficient to take care of the magazine and family. I have written about alchemy in this magazine. I have got an old palm leaf manuscript. It describes many brilliant medical procedures and treatments.” Kanthasami Pillai again started showing his interest in medicine enthusiastically.

The God thought that Mr. Kanthasami Pillai wouldn’t shut his mouth anymore. He asked Pillai, “How many persons do you torment daily in the name of treatment?”

“No such big number to boast about. See…you must always remember one fact: I am practising medicine just to run my life. You must be adept enough to ensure that the disease is not fully cured and at the same time the patient is also not dead. If only you ensure this, you can run your business with diseases the patients brought in. The treatment, either to cure diseases fully or to finish off the patients, won’t be in favour of running a successful business. The disease should get cured gradually, and at the same time, no big adverse effects of medicine should be seen on the patient’s health. This is a fundamental trick of business. Or else, do you think it has been possible for me to run the magazine for seventeen years without that trick? Kanthasami Pillai asked God.

The God just nodded his head, an affirmation of what Pillai had told him.

“Give me your hands. Let me check your pulse.” Kanthasami Pillai took God’s right hand into his.

“Are you going to check the pulse in the running vehicle?” God smiled at him.

“It all depends upon the skills of a physician.” Kanthasami Pillai replied.

He examined his pulse carefully for some seconds. “You seem to be highly choleric and habituated to consuming poison,” Kanthasami Pillai asked him respectfully.

“You are smart. I have other problems too,” God smiled.

“I guess we are talking about unnecessary things. Leave them aside. First tell me, where do you want to go in Triplicane?” Kanthasami Pillai asked him.

“To house No. 7, Office Venkatachala Muthali lane,” God told.

“hhhhaaa… It is my address. Isn’t it? Whom do you want to meet there?”

“I want to meet Mr. Kanthasami Pillai.”

“What! It’s me. I am that Kanthasami Pillai who you look for. Only that God almighty has brought us together. Hasn’t he? I beg your pardon for being impertinent in asking this. I don’t know about you. May I know who you are?” Kanthasami Pillai asked him politely. 

“Me? I am the God almighty.” The god replied calmly, nonchalantly. He was scratching his chin thoughtfully, looking towards the sky.

Kanthasami Pillai was shocked. ‘What kind of madness is this? This guy must be funny!’

“I just wanted to pay a visit to the earth. So you will be my protégé for the next few days.”

Kanthasami Pillai got confused and spluttered. “You can stay at my home as many days as you like. I don’t have any objections to it. But please don’t tell everyone that you are the God almighty. While I have no problem even if the society thinks that you are mad, I am worried that my wife shouldn’t think like that,” Kanthasami Pillai entreated him.

“Stop the rickshaw near that lamp post,” Kanthasami Pillai told the rickshaw puller.

The rickshaw stopped. Both of them got down.

The God took out a shiny one-rupee note and gave it to the rickshaw puller.

“May God bless you, sameee,” the rickshaw puller showered his heartfelt blessings.

‘Wasn’t it funny that someone was blessing God himself?’ 

“Look at this bloke! Are you worthy enough to bless an elderly man? Leave from here,” Kanthasami Pillai chided him.

“O! What a word of blessing! I have never been blessed with such words, so soothing to my ears and heart. Let him do that,” God told. 

“If you give him two and half anas less, then you will find out how truly he would bless you ” Kanthasami Pillai told.

“Master! I am a man of principles. I can never be commanded with unethical practices. Sami… I would be sitting at that place over there. If you come by that way, you must bless me.” He lifted the rickshaw’s front leg.

“I know… I know… You are a very loyal servant to big principles. Aren’t you? I know.... You, bugger, are a principled man in drinking only toddy." Kanthasami Pilai mocked at his loyalty to principles.

“If only you pull this rickshaw under this scorching sun all through the day, you will understand my condition. What is the use of finding fault with you? The God doesn’t have eyes. He has created this society in which you are chiding me and I am accepting it without complaints.” He left them, pulling his rickshaw.

The God laughed out loud, laughed his heart out. His heart was filled with happiness and calmness.

“This is what life on earth is all about,” Kanthasami Pillai told him.

“Is that all the life on earth?” God asked him.

Both of them walked towards the house.

The god stopped when he came near to the lamp post.

Kanthasami Pillai was also waiting for him.

“O! My dear devotee!” God called him.

No elder man was standing there. There appeared God in his full attire, dressed up in tiger hide, matted hair falling like a mane on his neck, a deer standing near him, an axe in his hands, and a crescent upon his coiffure.

His eyes displayed a frenzy of happiness. A smile on his lips.

“O! My dear devotee!” God called him again.

Kanthasami Pillai became alert. He understood that there was something seriously funny awaiting.

“Hello Mr. God! Your theatrical performance of throwing a boon at me will never work with me now. You will leave me at once after giving a boon. Another God would come in. He would be asking me for my head. I am not an idiot to get my head chopped off after getting a boon from you. You know that I don’t have any objections either to your visit to the earth or staying at my home as my guest. But if you want to be friendly with me, you must behave like a human being, like me. You must obey the rules of human society. Now, without neglecting what I have just told you, you may come home.”

The God followed him silently. He felt what Kanthasami had argued was, indeed, correct. ‘If I try to find anyone who actually prospered on this earth after getting boons, I would be left with none,’ God felt.

Kanthasami Pillai stood at the entrance for a while and asked him, “How should I address you? Can I call you by Parama Sivam or Ammaiyappa Pillai?” he asked.

“You can call me Parama Sivam. Old Parama Sivam…”

“As I like to treat you as my father, I would like to address you with that relation. You must accept it.” Kanthasami Pillai requested.

“Don’t address me as father. You can consider calling me the elder brother of your father so that we can avoid disputes on my property.” God smiled at him. He decided to adjust to the rules of the earth and was determined to be more careful.

“How much property do you own?” Kanthasami Pillai asked him.

“I own this entire universe,” God replied.

“Don’t be afraid. I am not that greedy,” Kanthasami Pillai said, stepping inside the house.

2

The tin lamp in the front hall made that place look like a sanctum sanctorum of a temple. Beyond that, a dark and lengthy dining hall. Nothing was visible after that. A child, who might be four years old, was playing there. A charm that makes one’s heart filled with pleasure. An ever-twinkling happiness in the eyes! With a curly rat-tail-like plait, braided in front and back of the head, separating the hair with a lining across the head according to the old custom, the child was playing around. The banana fiber thread holding the frontal tuft kept falling down, thus troubling the child’s eyes whenever it bent down. It was holding a charcoal piece and a tile piece. A snug lower skirt, torn, hanging up to knees from the waist. The child was trying to draw some lines on the floor. As the banana fiber thread fell on eyes frequently, it sat straight, pulled it with both hands forcefully but in vain, and was painful. When it was in a dilemma about whether to cry out or try one more attempt, its father entered the house.

“Father! The child ran to Kathasami Pillai and hugged his legs. It looked up Kanthasami Pilai and asked, “What have you brought for me?”

“Don’t you know I have brought myself for you?” Kanthasami Pilai told him.

“Nothing new in it. I know you are bringing yourself here every day. At least you could have brought some roasted grams. Don’t you?”

“No…No… Roasted gram is not good for your health. Here you see! I have brought a grandfather for you.” Kanthasami Pillai coaxed.

“Is it your child?" God asked. He couldn’t take his eyes off the child.

Kanthasami Pillai stood fixed, hesitated.

“Your hesitation is understandable! You know I am totally a vegetarian 3. I love only rice cooked in an earthen pot. I don’t even take milk or curd.” God smiled at Kanthasami Pillai.

“It’s a long-awaited and yet much-delayed arrival in my family, like tendrils of curry leaves,” Kanthasami Pilai told him.

“Please be here. There is no supply of water in the tap now. Let me bring some water in the pot.” Kanthasami Pillai disappeared in the darkness inside.

The god sat on the floor, spreading his towel.

His heart was full of vivaciousness and a boundless peace of mind.

“Hey! Tendrils of Curry Leaves! Come here!” God stretched out his hands to the child.

The child sat on his lap in one jump.

“My name is not curry leaves tendrils. My name is Valli. My father calls me often ‘Karuppi.’ Am I looking that dark complexioned? The child asked him.

She didn’t expect a reply from him. She saw the black mole in his throat.

‘What is that, Grandpa? Looking like a darker naval fruit. I feel like biting it.” She got up, winking her eyes, and pressed her soft flower lips on his neck. He got goosebumps as her tender teeth pressed on his neck. Even the body of God felt excited.

“It’s tickling.” God twisted his body and giggled.

“Grandpa, have you got your throat burnt and got a hole there? See… I also got one like that.” She showed the black, hardened blister at the tip of her finger.

“Yes, dear child. It is only a naval fruit. Long ago, as some people gave me love, I put them in my mouth. Since some of them demanded their share, they strangled my throat. So, it had gotten stuck halfway through in the throat itself. Leave it aside. Don’t you have friends here to play? God asked her.

“I have vattu 4 and a piece of charcoal. Come…play with me? Don’t you?” She called Him. .

The child and the God started playing Vattu.

Folding one knee and limping, God jumped over the line.

‘Grandpa! You have lost the game,” the child clapped its hands and laughed.

“Why?” God asked.

She said that he stepped on the line and that was why he had lost.

“You should have told me about the rules in advance.” God told her.

“It is your fault that you came to play without knowing the game. Isn’t it your fault?” The child questioned him with her elbow folded.

That time, Mr. Kanthasami Pillai and Mrs. Pillai appeared from the darkness with water pots on their waists.

“He is our Kailashwara Periyappa. Our girl from Karisankulam has been given in marriage to his cousin brother’s son. Don’t you know that? Kanthasami Pillai explained.

“But I heard that he had become a wandering mendicant. Is he that uncle? Welcome, Mama!  My humble greeting! She put down the pot and prostrated in front of him. Her traditional hanging-ear stud touched her cheeks while prostrating. 

“Let you be bestowed with all the prosperities of life,” God blessed her.

Gandhimathi madam (yes…it is the name of Mr. Kanthasami’s wife) felt a sense of fulfillment in her heart, which she had never experienced in her life. Her mind was at peace. Her eyes were filled with tears of joy.

“The rice bag is still lying at the entrance,” God reminded her.

“It is really unbearable to see this man forgetting everything around him. Just a while ago, I asked him whether he had bought rice. He said he hadn’t. He is giving medicine to the whole town. But I am yet to find out medicine for his forgetfulness. Only the God who created us should look into this matter.” Gandhimathi complained. 

“Yes…he is looking into it anyway. Isn’t he?” God told in a rustic tone.

“He must mock at his forgetfulness. Only after that, some good sense will prevail upon this man.” She told.

God smiled.

God and Mr. Kanthasami Pillai went to the entrance.

“I told you earlier. You should not be involved in such tomfoolery.” Kanthasami Pillai murmured in his ears.

“It won’t be repeated,” God assured him.

Kanthasami Pillai tried lifting it with all his might. The bag didn’t even move an inch.

“What a powerful young man you are!” God mocked at him, sneered, lifted the bag, and carried it on his waist.

“O! God! You are standing idle when this elderly man is lifting it. Aren’t you? Go…can’t you support him on the other side?” Gandhimathi blurted.

“You don’t have to worry about it. Just tell me where I should keep it.” God asked him. 

“Let it be here in this hall itself. You just keep it there itself.” Gandhimathi intervened.

When the God and Mr. Kanthasami came to the veranda, it was 11 o'clock at night.

“What is bothering you now?” God asked.

“Nothing. I just want to sleep.” Kanthasami Pillai told, yawning.

“Grandpa, I will also sleep beside you.” The child came running to him.

“Tell your mother to bring a pillow and a mat,” Kanthasami Pillai told her.

“Are you asking me also to sleep?” God questioned.

“If you are with the human beings, you must behave like them. Mustn’t you? If you don’t like to sleep, just keep lying down on the bed. Moving around during the night will create problems, Kanthasami Pillai warned God.

3

Mr. Kanthasami Pillai was writing commentaries, sitting in the office of ‘Sidhdhaantha Theebikai’ magazine, situated in Pavalakara Street. Interpretation of Bogar’s medical treatise was being published periodically in the magazine of Mr. Pillai.

He wrote, ‘Listen to me. Let me explain. Take a well-grown sugar cane, mix it up with emerald powder (known as Karuda Pachai also), blistering plant, Indian mistletoe thorns, and thorn-apple in hot water…”. He looked at the street, saw the postman leaving him without looking into his office, and got convinced that he wouldn’t be able to despatch the magazine. He folded all the papers as a roll, kept them in a corner, stretched his body lazily, and cracked his knuckles. 

A rickshaw stopped at the entrance of his house. God and the child got down from the rickshaw. Valli was wearing a silk lower garment and a handful of toffees.

“I and Grandpa visited ‘dead colleges’ and ‘live colleges,’” the child jumped enthusiastically.

“For what the heck, they have constructed a building only to fill in the skeletons and skins everywhere. It seems to me that they intended to mock me.” God told in a harsh tone.

“Do you think someone could do it with that much wisdom? It might just have been their sheer, petty enthusiasm to showcase the splendor of God’s creations. Leave that aside. Give me twenty-five rupees. I will include you as a lifetime subscriber. Somehow the magazine has to be dispatched.” He stretched out his hands to him.

“Through this, who do you want to cheat? For whose well-being are you doing this all? God smiled at him.

“Neither do I want to beg charity nor borrow money from anyone. That is why I want to keep this transaction a pretty business-like affair. You have just talked about ethics. Haven’t you? Whatever is sold on this earth, be it ghee or gingelly oil, every item sold here is adulterated. Don’t you know that?” Mr. Kanthasami tried to justify his stand.

God delved into deep thought.

“Let’s leave that topic aside. There is a herb called Karudapachai mentioned in Bogar’s medical treatise. Is there any herb by that name? Or is it called Karudapichu? “ Kanthasami Pillai asked.

“See Mr. Kanthasami! I am only responsible for the creation of life on the earth. I can’t be held responsible for naming them. It is not justifiable. Is it? I don’t know what the heck that name is all about. I created you. But it was your father who named you Kanthasami. Will you hold me responsible for that too?” God got Kanthasami’s mouth shut.

“I think both of you are not in a good mood as you have just arrived in after roaming under the scorching sun. But don’t think that you have won me with your authoritative words in this verbal duel. My only concern is that twenty-five rupees will go to waste if you curse me in haste,” Kanthasmai Pillai told him.

The child opened the packet and ate sweets from it. She called the God out, “Grandpa, don’t talk to my father. He doesn’t know anything. Taste this piece. It is very sweet.”

God picked up a small piece of laddu from her, told, “Baby! The crumbs are mine. The whole of it is yours. Is that right?”

The child was pondering for a while, holding one laddu in its hands.

“Grandpa, I can’t eat it fully, thrusting it fully into my mouth. But you say the crumbs are yours. It means I won’t get anything. Will I? “ The child asked him innocently.

God laughed his heart out. “No…it’s all yours.” He told her.

“Is all mine? For me?” the child asked him.

“Yes… it’s all yours,” God replied.

“But if I eat it all, I won’t feel hungry, and if I don’t eat meals, my mother will beat me up. My father will give me some laxative electuary.” The child was worried.

“Don’t worry. Your hunger won’t get affected.” God told.

“Let the sweets be given by a noble soul like you, but please remember it has been purchased from a hotel,” Kanthasami Pillai warned.

“Don’t worry. I am here with you anyway,” God assured him.

“When did I say that you aren’t with me here?” Kathasami Pillai told him.

Kanthasami Pillai remained silent for seconds and asked, How much is the balance amount of hundred rupees after today’s expenses?”

“Including the twenty-five I gave you, I have fifty rupees as a balance amount in my hand.” God smiled.

“Then why are you still gloomy?”

“That’s what I still am not able to figure out.”

“You can consider practicing medicine like me.”

“I don’t want to compete with you.”

“You don’t have to think like that. Actually, you are not competing with me. Rather, you are competing with the stupidity of this world. If you are not comfortable with it, you may consider preaching Siddhanta discourses. Don’t you?”

“You are not giving me suggestions for my livelihood? Are you? Will I be able to earn money out of that?” God smiled at him.

“Then what else have you planned?”

“You know I can dance well. What is your opinion about it? If needed, I will call upon my wife, Devi”

Kanthasami Pillai remained silent for some time again. “I don’t share your opinion in this anyway.” He told.

“How can I have my livelihood, then? Don’t you know that the entire universe runs on my dance?

“Okay… Do as you wish,” Kanthasami Pillai told him.

Kanthasami Pillai laughed for a while. “Okay. Let’s go.” He took out his dhoti hanging on a nail and wore it.

“What about the child?” God asked. 

“She is sleeping. Isn’t she? Let her sleep till we come back.” Replied Pillai.

In the past fifteen minutes, three persons entered the bungalow of Divan Bhagadur Brahadeeswara Sasthiri. One was Kanthasami Pillai; the other two were the God and his wife, Devi.

“I have been giving him gold ash 5. I hope he would listen to my words,” Kanthasami Pillai told him, climbing the stairs of the veranda. The other two were following him. Devi had a small bundle in her hand.

“Inform the master that I have come to meet him,” Kathasami Pillai told the servant in a commanding tone.

“O! Pillai! Welcome… Please come in. The gold ash was over yesterday. As you have not come to my home, I was worried a bit.” A man known as Divan Bhagadur with a feeble frame, in a dhoti, wearing spectacles with a gold frame, joyfully talking, came running towards him. He greeted everyone with his folded hands and sat on his easy chair.

“Please have a seat… Please…” Divan Bahgadur told them. 

Kanthasami Pillai examined his pulses and told him, “Now you are alright. I will send the Gold Ash in the evening. I just came here to introduce these people to you. These two are versatile dancers, having an ocean of knowledge in dance. We will be highly obliged if you make an arrangement for their dance programme at your Nrithiya Kalmandala.”

On hearing this, Divan Bhagadur was downbeat at once as his enthusiasm seemed to have disappeared like a tortoise pulling its head and legs into its shell. He became very withdrawn and broody, nodding his head thoughtfully and scratching his chin with his forefinger and thumb.

“His name is Koothanaar. This woman’s name is Parvathi. They are a married couple,” Kanthasami Pillai elucidated their relationship to him.

“I haven’t heard about you earlier. Have you ever performed anywhere before this?” he asked Koothanaar, looking at Devi.

Without giving opportunity to God to speak, Devi told him, “There is no place left where we haven’t danced.”

“I haven’t seen any, though. It’s alright. Let it be. This lady is very dark in complexion. Such women may not be preferred on the dais. You know?” the ‘complexion-concerned’ Divan Bhagadur told her.

“Are you searching for a bride or organizing a dance programme? Devi asked him.

“I beseech you not to be angry. Let me put the matter in perspective. It is true that the relation between art and dark complexion is not even worth a quarter of an ana.  I have been the president of the Kala Manadala for thirty years. I can say that it is the eyes of those spectators that are dark.”

“Hell with your Kala Manadala and your nonsense!” Devi rose up.

“You can’t afford to be angry in this manner.” Both Divan Bhagadur and Kanthasami Pillai tried to assuage her and rose up from the chair.

“They dance with a new form. You couldn’t have seen such a dance anywhere in this area. Even the philosophy of dance is incomplete without their dance. You may consider watching their dance at least once.” Kanthasami Pillai recommended.

“Okay… Nothing will be lost in watching it. Will it be?” Divan Bhagadur sat on his easy chair, closed his eyes, and told them, “Please carry on.”

Devi looked around the hall to find out a suitable, spacious place for their dance.

“We can use the centre of the hall,” God suggested.

All of them accepted this proposition, went inside, and fastened the latch.

Within seconds, a majestic beat of music rose up inside the hall.

‘Wasn’t he Rudra of the burial ground?

He was Rudra of the burial ground.

The doors opened.

The god was standing like a statue with his eyes closed, dressed up in tiger hide, a trident in hand, a snake encircling his neck, the River Ganga flowing from his head, and his wavy matted hair slithering down the shoulders.

Again, the resonation of music. While taking a swift move while dancing, the trident in his hands shone as if a lightning bolt was thrown after being detangled. With a frenzy in his eyes and a smile on his lips, God lifted his legs.

Kanthasami Pillai got stunned at seeing his dance. He sprang to his feet, thinking that God had violated the promise given to him.

“Hei… Mr. Koothanaar! Could you stop your dance for some time?”

“It is just an ordinary street performance. Look at this man! Dressed up like a Borneo Island cannibal…” Divan Bhagadur shouted at him, visibly irritated.

God stood still with his leg lifted up, leaned against his trident, and kept watching them.

“Hei… Do you know what art is? It is alright; you are overly enthusiastic about putting on a costume with tiger hide. But for a snake, you have brought a real snake. Haven’t you? You should just wear jewelry that looks like a snake around your neck. For a tiger costume, wrapping a silk cloth around you will suffice. The first and foremost thing in art is beauty. Don’t you know that? Even if Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati themselves come down and dance like this, it won’t be as per the laws of dance treatises. Nothing has been mentioned like this. First, for God’s sake, take off that snake from your neck, put it in a basket, and remove your stupid costume. Young children are playing around in this place. Be careful.” Divan Bhagadur warned them.

He didn’t spare Mr. Kanthasami Pillai as well. “Mr. Kanthasami Pillai, just because you are giving me medicine, you can’t oblige me to watch this performance and expect me to arrange dance programmes. I won’t be able to show off my face to anyone after that, if it happens. Will I be?”

Fifteen minutes later, two persons were sitting in the office of Sidda Vaidya Theebikai magazine. Devi was not there. The child was sleeping on the mat. Both of them remained silent.

“It seems that even our known profession is of no use in this world.” God told him in despair.

“You don’t like what I had told you; this world doesn’t like what you like. You can experiment running a school to teach Devaram 6.

“No…thchch…” God didn’t accept his idea, curled his tongue in denial.

“In a very short time, you started disliking this earth. Didn’t you?”

“Seeing you is almost akin to seeing the whole world.” God replied.

“But seeing you is almost…” Kanthasami Pillai didn’t complete the sentence, laughing instead.

“We can give you people boon at a distance. But it is impossible to live with you,” God told him.

“Your entire pedigree is capable of doing only that,” Kanthasami Pillai said.

To reply to his remarks, no one was present there.

The lifetime subscription amount, twenty-five rupees, was lying on the table as currency notes.

Kanthasami Pillai wrote in his account book, “Kailasapuram Old Parama Sivan Pillai, twenty-five rupees on account of lifetime subscription.”

“Appa! Has Grandpa gone to his native place?” the child asked him as she woke up.

 

***  End  ***

Note:

1.      Unit of a rupee. Not used these days.

2.      Soma Banam—a drink mentioned in old texts causing inebriation.

3.      It should be read with the reference from Periya Puranam written by Chekkizhar. The text is about the tales of devotees of Lord Shiva and how they prove their devotion despite facing life-threatening odds in their lives. In one such tale, Siruththondar, a devotee of Lord Shiva, is asked by another old devotee who visited his house to cook a child’s meat to be served to him. As Siruthondar couldn’t refuse his request due to his devotion to God, he kills his son, Seeralan, and serves that meat to the old man. The Old Man is none other than Lord Shiva himself. Finally, once the test of his devotion is made known to the world, Lord Shiva brings back his son alive. In this context, God’s words, “I am a vegetarian,” should be read.

4.      Broken piece of a tile

5.      Thanga Baspam in Tamil. This is made of fine gold ash as a traditional medicine.

6. Devaram—The Devaram volumes contain the works of the three most prominent Saiva Tamil poets of the 7th and 8th centuries: Sambandar, Appar, and Sundarar. It is hymns sung by the devotees of Lord Shiva, including the above three poets.