This is an English Translation of “Puli Kalaignan”,
a short story written by Ashoka Mithran. Translated from Tamil by K.
Saravanan. This is 37th English translation in the
Classic Tamil short stories series.
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| Ashoka Mithran |
We used to have interval from one ‘O clock to two in the noon. Earlier, it was up to half past two, people say. During those days, the work also started at eleven in the morning. Reaching the office at half past eleven while the scheduled office time was eleven, after having breakfast at about half past ten or fifteen to eleven at home, it was sort of an impossible task to sit for lunch at one ‘O clock. Due to this reason, one could see the actual crowd at the canteen only at two “O clock. The time was reduced to half past ten from eleven. Now they had passed an order to reduce it further to ten and it had been in force for the last one month. For lunch, it was from one to two. The office which used to be once closed at five in the evening, was now functioning till six.
Work remained routine there anyway. Factory divisions
made in the name of carpenters, electricians and lottery men had eight hours
duty daily. Similarly there was an account section. Then Account department. No
matter whether there was work or not, the persons in this department would have
to keep writing accounts throughout the year. Then came telephone operator attending
telephones having no respite or leave for itself. Hence, only those who were
not included in these departments had at times some leisure time in the office,
sometimes in days or in weeks or in months.
As far as I remember, our studio once remained jobless
without producing even a motion picture for about one and a half years. During
those one and half years, we could receive our wages without doing any work,
sleep during office hours with our legs on tables, let our hair getting grey,
let our belly bulged with fat, invite diabetes, teach our eyes to look around
as there was no fixed target for our thoughts, and bring lots of incoherent
stammer to our talk. After one and half
years, when we received the real tasks we could experience a new leash of
enthusiasm as our compulsory leisure had come to an end, and sometimes found
doing the works a bit difficult due to lack of continuity over these years. On
one such day when we were expecting such enthusiasm and difficulties on daily
basis, he came to us in one afternoon while we were all munching petal leaves
and tobacco after our lunch.
“What do you want?” Sharma asked him.
Trousers were part of Sharma’s attire in those days.
He was working as a police sub inspector. Later, he wrote plays, stories and
published them, gained fame and had become an important person in the story
section of our studio. During those old golden days, he used to carry our owner
in the motor cycle pillion and selected good locations for outdoor shooting.
Now he got used to with Dhoti and tobacco. His descending square shaped
shoulders while standing below his neck proved that his physique was sculpted
with exercises once upon a time.
It was a small room. Old tables in different sizes
were there, big and small. We ought to consider Sharma who was sitting behind
the big table as the main spokesperson of that room. Other than the chairs
where we were sitting, there was one more chair lying. All our chairs were old
ones having different shapes. One leg of the chair lying extra was found short.
Anyone who sat on it would tilt on one side and develop a sudden gush of
uneasiness in stomach. The person who came there was standing holding the back
side of this chair.
“What do you want?” Sharma asked him.
“I came to your house on Saturday sir” he said.
“I was not in the town on Saturday” Sharma told him.
“I came in the morning. You were repairing an
umbrella”
“O! It’s you! Aren’t you Velayutham?”
“No sir…I am Kader. Tagar faayit Kader”
“Were you the one who came?”
“Yes…Vellai told me…to meet Aiya at his home.”
“Who is Vellai?”
“It is Vellai. Agent Vellai”
Now Sharma could understand something out. Vellai was the agent who used to bring
hundreds of men and women whenever we had to shoot big crowds in our studio. Other
than showing their faces in the crowds, no acting skills were required of them.
Vellai would collect two rupees per head along with meals.
“At present, we haven’t planned any crowd scene. You
know that? ” Sharma told him.
“Yes..I know. But he told me that you would give some
role if I meet you”
“Who’d told you?”
“That one…that Vellai”
Sharma looked at us. We both glanced at the newcomer.
He was short. He must have possessed well sculpted body earlier. Now he was
looking frail with his collar bone protruding outside. The joints of his jaw,
well jutted, showed his dark cheeks shallow more than actually it was. Almost
all the persons brought by Vellai would carry the similar look like that. Even
if we took a motion picture on the Kingdom of Lord Rama, the citizens appearing
in the movie would look like the ones who were born in the year of “Dhaatu” (A
Tamil year)
“I will let you know about it through Vellai” Sharma
told. We leaned against the chairs. The interview was over.
He further told, “Ok sir...” his voice became softer.
“If you can arrange something immediately, if possible, it will be of great
help” he told.
“We haven’t started shooting yet. We would take crowd
scenes only at last”
“I don’t mean that sir. You could give me any role”
“What sort of a role I could give you? The casting
assistant is sitting over there. Give your details to him.”
I was the casting Assistant. I had details such as
names, age, height, and address of thousands of people who came to meet me like
him. In case of any need, if we wrote letters to four persons with the help of
details available with me, three letters would come back with an
acknowledgement that the person had changed his address. Then it was Vellai who
would come to rescue.
But he didn’t turn towards me. He was so certain that
Sharma was the most important person among three of us.
“Only with your recommendation, something can happen”
he said.
“Do you know swimming?” Sharma asked him.
“Swimming! He
repeated it, asked us. Then told, “I know swimming…a bit”
“No use of knowing it incomplete. We need to take a
shot in which one person should jump from a height and then swim through. You
are not fit for that”
“I know takar faayit Sir…Even my name is Takar faayit
Kader sir”
“What’s that Takar faayit?”
“Takar faayit sir…Takar…you know Takar”
Now all of us were attentive. No one could understand
what he said.
Then he told, “Tiger sir…tiger…tiger faayit”
“O! Is it Tiger fight? Tiger fight! You will fight
with tiger. Wont you?”
“No sir…I act like a tiger in disguise. People call it
takar faayit. Don’t they?”
“So you are an actor wearing tiger costume. Aren’t
you? But cinema does not require tiger disguise. Anyway, let Vellai come. If I
find any suitable role for you, I will let you know for sure.”
“I perform takar faayit effectively sir. It will look
like a real tiger”
“If it looks like a real tiger, we can bring the real
one. Can’t we?”
“Nothing like that sir…my performance will exactly
look like a real tiger. Do you want to see that?”
“Ahaan….No ….Not required”
“Just have a glance sir. You couldn’t have seen tiger
disguise anywhere else sir?
“Why not? For
every Moharram or Ramjan, there would be a lot of tiger disguises on the
street.”
“My performance is something different. It will look
like real tiger”
He took out a tiger head from somewhere. Only after
that we understood that he had brought a cloth bag as well along with him.
Tiger head means only the outer part of it was covered with tiger skin. In a
second he wore it on his head, and pulled that mask down at his jaw. With his own
eyes, now he changed himself with a leopard’s head. He threw his eyes around
the room for a second.
“Excellent!” Sharma said. We kept looking at him.
He limbered up his hands and body once. He, then bent
down, stood on four legs, and turned his face here and there.
“Superb!” Sharma said again.
He arched just his back like a cat, curved his body
and shook it up. Then opened his mouth. We were stunned at looking at him. We
never heard such roar of a ferocious tiger in such a close proximity.
He roared once again like a tiger and shook only his
rear. He jumped over a chair lying empty in that room with his four legs and
curled himself. The chair rocked, losing its balance. I shouted, “Aiyo”.
He, then, pounced over my table with his four legs.
Within a flick of an eye, he jumped over to Sharma’s table. Papers, books and
petal leaves casket were found scattered on Sharma’s table. His leg didn’t even
touch any of them. He crouched upon Sharma’s table, stared at Sharma, and gave
out a life-taking roar once again. He then jumped into the air from there. We
all shouted in dread.
It was very old building. Along its wall, at about ten
feet height, an edge of two inches was carved out. On one side of the wall, a
window with single rods just above the edge was acting like a ventilator. It
was dusty, dirty and full of cob webs.
With the help of his four legs, he jumped above our
head and fixed himself in that two inches edge for a moment. Holding the ventilator
rods with his hands, he roared like a tiger once again.
“Be safe …Be safe” Sharma cried. In that height, the ceiling fan was running fiendishly
right in front of his face. The distance between his face and ceiling fan
blades was not even in inches.
He jumped off from that height onto a chair and then
to the ground.
All of us remained frozen with unmitigated fright. His
eyes in that leopard face now sparkled like that of a tiger. Now the leopard
opened its mouth once again and roared ferociously. Next moment, his body got
relaxed, he got up.
Even Sharma couldn’t utter any word of praise. He took
off his leopard mask.
We were all tongue tied. It was he who came out of
this trance first and became normal.
“I will certainly do something for you” Sharma assured
him. His voice was changed now. He folded his hands, prayed to him.
“Where are you putting up?” Sharma asked him. He
mentioned his place at Mir Sahib Pettai, told him some number and lane. He
further told him hesitantly, “But….I don’t know sir…how long I will be staying
there.”
“Why?” Sharma asked.
“Nothing sir….”while dragging his words, he prostrated
in front of Sharma suddenly.
“Please get up…get up Kader..” Sharma was uneasy at
his action. We stood up. He also got up, wiped his eyes. “My wife had told me
not to come to my house.” It was he who was roaring like a tiger just a while
ago.
“It has been long time since I earned. What else she
could do then? We have four kids. All are very young.” He was crying now.
Something occurred to Sharma. He asked him, “Have you
had your food today?”
“No sir” he replied. After seeing his condition on
that day, it was unnecessary to ask him about the days he hadn’t taken his
food.
Sharma put his hand into his pocket. We also groped into
our pockets. We collected some amount. It was two rupees. Sharma gave it to
him, and told, “Go to the canteen and eat well”
“No sir…”he refused.
“Why do you refuse it? Please have your food first” Sharma insisted.
“Please offer me a role sir” He told him amidst his
sob.
I had never seen Sharma getting angry like that. “How
could you say no to the money that comes to you? If you deny money, from where
will the money come? Even if it is a penny, it is Laxmi. (Goddess of wealth).
From where will your Laxmi come? Get this money, go to the canteen and eat
first” he yelled at him.
He stopped weeping, received the money. Sharma became
soft in his tone, and told him, “Such things like offering roles are not in my
hands. I will do my best for you. Now you go. Have something for your stomach”.
He turned towards me, told, “Take him to the canteen and make him eat
something. I got up.
“No sir…I’ll go myself and eat. I’ll go myself to eat.”
he told. He folded his hands once, paid regards, and left.
We remained silent for some time. Sharma spoke involuntarily
in a slightly raised voice.
“How can we make use of this fellow? Isn’t the movie
we are shooting now about some king and queen?”
But he didn’t remain quiet after that. When the story
section assembled for discussion, he somehow managed obtaining permission to
shoot a scene in which the hero would enter the enemy fort disguising himself
as a tiger. While showing it as a tiger disguise, he thought of engaging Kader
as “dupe” in place of the hero. At least he could fetch hundred rupees for him.
I wrote a letter to Kader. As usual the latter came
back in four days. The reason: the addressee was not there.
Sharma called upon Vellai and searched for Kader. We
also tried our hands everywhere to search for him. The day of shooting the
scene in which the hero would enter the enemy fort under tiger disguise was
also nearing. But we couldn’t find Kader.
Even if he was found, it was of not much use.
In one movie released in that month, there was a scene in which our hero was
shown dancing with a Kavadi 1 in the back drop of folk music.
That movie became a black buster, fetching unmanageable crowds everywhere in
Tamil Nadu.
It was decided that our hero would also dance with Karagam
2 in the movie.
***The
End***
Note:
1. Kavadi: Bamboo sticks bent in semi-circular form with some
ornamentations, carried by devotees on their shoulders as part of their religious
commitment towards deity
2.
Karagam: A metal pot kept on the heads of performers while
performing Karagattam, a Tamil folk dance.
Translated from Tamil by K. Saravanan
Source: Ashoka Mithran’s “Puli Kalaignan” short story.
