A Boat in the Storm (புயலிலே ஒருதோணி) by Pa. Singaram Chapter 13: The dance of the sea

Pa. Singaram

Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam.  

Chapter 13: The dance of the sea 

…..

It was fourth day. They were sitting on a green rug spread on tobacco bales and playing 504 card game. 

“He is a lucky guy to get big share in the game” said Shanmugam Pillai as he was taking his vest off. 

“Big share? How big it is? It isn’t born to an elephant? Is it?”

There followed a cheeky talk filled with mutual sarcasm and exchange of banter. 

The people from Thirupathur had a unique manner of teasing each other. Their insinuations would have no harsh words in it yet inflated with high temper expressed in words articulated in a specific manner by braiding them together. One needs to listen to the nicety of their talk in the town ‘car’ stand. 

Cars are standing here and there. The ‘car’ agents are busy roaming with pencils on their ear lobes, trip sheets in hands and beedi in mouth. Their yells resonated the tunes of the car stand. “Kunnadi-kaaradi-devottai¹”, Devottai! Singampidari²- kottampatti- Natham! Natham! Natham”

Vandu meesai³ Kaanaa Roona came running out of Hussein’s shop and yells, “Move away….move away…One tonner royal Mail is coming. Those who going to Pudukkottai come fast. I have only five minutes.” Kannayira Vilas bus comes there. The ‘cleaner” mounts onto the top to clear all bales, utensils and pots bundled up, kept stacked up to a man’s height on the top of the bus, and throw them away onto the ground. Driver Sultan jumped off his seat and gave a friendly slap on an agent’s back and asked him “Machan, how come his eyes look so heavy this early? Anything spicier?” Kaanaa Roona has been suffering from an upset stomach and on herbal concoction every morning.”, drama contractor Nallakudiyan Servai remarked with a sympathetic note. Boys, standing around the buses, yelling non- stop, are busy enticing the passengers with Murukku, freshly cut tender coconut, and bunches of bananas kept on platters. The song sung to attract the customers is heard from lame Muthaiah’ palm-leaves-roofed shop in the north-west.  

“Saavanna Lenaa colour⁴  sir…. Try its taste once. I’ll give it with ice cubes sir…very good ‘colour’

“Hello old man! Where are you going?” 

“Natham” 

“What? To Natham? Listen to me aiya…why do you guys going to Natham board this bus? Yonder look! there is a bus standing under the tamarind tree, looking like broken garbage vehicle. You go there and fall into it. Hell with your Natham?” 

Sivagangai car agent Meerasa was sitting on the floor, squatting, was toying with a beedi in his hands. He lighted it after removing its tip with his teeth. 

“It is said that even dog won’t die in Natham. But they are going there for procuring materials. Aren’t they? Paganeri car agent Veerappan remarked as he wrapped his towel round his head. 

“Who knows for what hell are they going there? They have barged into the bus like their Natham’s uninvited demons. Today’s collection will dip to nothing. Hell, with their Natham!” he grunted furiously, spat out spittle and puffed on beedi as he closed his eyes. 

“Maple! Watch the beauty of those Natham men travelling” Paganeri agent opened his dhoti and took out a packet of beedi and a match box. “Their ears stand erect like that of meat seller Singam. Don’t they?” 

“Meerasa! Hei…man…look there…isn’t it royal gait of Sovanna Maanaa? They walk like peacocks decked with rattle” screamed driver Aani Muthu Servai who was standing in front of Nagappan’s petty shop adjacent to Vande Mataram Iyer shop while stuffing tobacco leaves into his mouth.

“Let them leave Mamu….Pitiable fellows! I think this is the right time for them to eat hay. That’s why they have left for that cattle shed” 

“You, the spoilt brats! “Words downpour” Somasundaram Pillai turned his eyes to Meerasa. His silver tongue echoes. “Why are you buggers whiling away your time shamelessly at this place where some good men would often visit leaving all your pride and ego behind? Enough of your useless existence of being a burden to this earth like a stray bull devoted to Singampunari temple. Manamelpatti Pambaiyan needs some work force to make fence. You all better go there” 

“Sovannaa Maanaa! Please be gracious enough to send my daughter in law to Colombo by ship” 

“The king of Abyssinia has started selling tea there⁵. She can also join him to make tea. The fortunes might take an upward turn.” 

“No…if they go there they will also wear cap and grow thin beard. Wrapping the sari around them, if they walk with yellow shirt and green colour over coat, one would definitely grow suspicious whether it is the son of our Seethakkali Sarkkarai Ravuthar or some prince of Hyderabad Nizam. So it is better they spend some time learning the art of making fence with Pambaiyan for a couple of months” 

(Stores in charge Mani Iyer who was just coming out of ‘Club’ shop with his dirty, oil soaked towel wrapped round his waist and beard not shaved for ten days, was mumbling: “Who’s instigated our “words downpour” Pillai at this hour? Now it is impossible to stop him”.) 

“Mamu…Please let him go…It is the time to relish toddy. Why do you stand on his way at an inopportune time?

“You guys are the ones who howled aloud in search of bones while hiding it somewhere. Aren’t you? Retract your tails and get out. Look there. The messengers of God of Death come running to us with the rope of death in their hands. If you get delayed, you will be stuffed into coffins. Where is your Identity Card hanging on your neck? Have you eaten that up too thinking it is bone? As you buggers have nerves to carry trip sheets in hands, women around here are so fed up with drivers and spit at you. Even after Manamadurai Seeni has brought out all your misdemeanours in his gramophone records, you all have never mended your ways. Even the rain is rudely irregular as it is unable to bear your immoral ways. We could only get paddy grain of four and three fourth of padi for a rupee. To the north of Madurai, the women folk are…..” 

The question from a man carrying his belongings obstructed his flow. 

“Hei….you want the bus going to Sivasangai. Don’t you? ….why do you need boarding the bus? Listen to my suggestion. Buy some roasted grams for one and a half rupee, hang it on your waist and then start walking swinging your hands and legs” 

“Sivasangai…Sivasangai….the bus is about to leave. Only two minutes more. Meerasa’s voice is heard in high pitch. 

“Sivasangai….Sivasangai…come fast…” 

“If you walk down by tiny steps, Sivagangai would appear in front of you by evening. Don’t get closer to these ‘car’ chaps. If you dare boarding their ‘tin sheeted’ cars, you will regret for sure. The speaker’s right hand pointed to the Saminatha Vilas bus and Meerasa. As soon as their bus reaches the plain ground near the Banyan tree, they will stop it and dismantle its spare parts with an excuse of repairing it. Then what? You would have to sleep keeping your head on your folded knees. So dear man…listen to my words.”  

****

The sun light which had been very harsh till now disappeared suddenly. The air became sultry. Pandian rose, looked up and examined the sky. The bundles of clouds were found scattered, grew thicker and darker. The waves were looking silky as if they were glistening with oil. The wind was standstill and atmosphere was suffocating. On the other corner, the sailors who were looking at the sea and sky intently turned suddenly, ran along with the captain to the ship mast and tightened the ropes. An unintelligible trace of worry was visible in what they had felt. Everyone rose, looked defenceless and looked at each other’s faces filled with fear. 

The lightning flashes cut through the sky with shaking thunders. At the same time an impact with an inestimable speed and weight shook the ship, its people and materials on the deck. The sky seemed to have been broken and a torrent of flood gushed into. It was a cyclone. Both wind and rain were at the peak of their ferocity. The waves and its movements weren’t visible and it seemed to have merged with wind. The ship jumped up and down and spun in an axis like a spin top. First right, then left, then right and then left. It wavered from one place to another, jumped up, then fell down struggling to stabilise its hold. There was a cracking sound as if boned were breaking. Everyone could see sea water going up above their head. “We are dying….or going to die very soon.”- The death with our body getting rotten, eaten by fishes, sunk to the bottom of sea at an unknown place. The darkest of darkness. Darkest night everywhere. Sea…rain…cyclone…sky…He was lying holding a thick rope that was hanging somewhere. It looked like falls…Cascade of salt water…falls of sea…Flash of lightning…the hole of the captain…shadowy images moving across, sharks, its saw-like teeth, the cyclonic rain along the howl of winds…The body getting tired and senses getting cataleptic. The dance of demons- with the ship spinning, jumping up, swaying and fearfully dancing. The noise of something cracking up. We are going to meet our death with our body getting rotten, eaten by fishes, sunk to the bottom of the sea at an unknown place. We are going to die….No, we won’t die….we are dying.’  

 

Suddenly there came an intimidating calmness where the sea and sky were found separate. 

The sea captain shouted from a wooden enclosure. 

“Come here, Come here….Lekas…lekas…” 

Pandian rose. All the ‘bodies’ that were hiding in almost every corner rose their heads slowly. The ship is not steady. The waves looking like a mountain range hit the ship. The persons on the ship totter and run. 

The sky, sea, wind and rain came together once again. The sky spews lightning like fire balls. The torrent of flood water gushes into. The air gags the breath and the sea is on its worst form of lethal dance. The ship jumps up and then falls down, and then breaks up. We are going to die… going to face the death with our body getting rotten, eaten by fishes, sunk to the bottom of the sea at an unknown place. Sea water on our faces, on our bodies, on our hands and legs, and the dresses strangling every part of body and cutting it like a saw. Death…death….death. The wooden pillar…stone pillar….iron pillar….and our pillar of life. The ship hops up, falls down, spins, sinks and floats. Jumps up again and swims. Coarse feeling of chillness. Noingggg….puingggg…..noigggg….puingggg. The Chinese demons of thunder and lightning throw themselves upon. Bales and small bundles fall off and disappear. The ship jumps up, falls down and cracking up. The ship spins as if having lost its axis. The sea waves are still hitting it. 

‘What’s this? Sun light! Sun…Sun….Sun...The ship’s deck is full of water and the mast is found broken. The sailors are trying to pump the sea water out that was gushing into the ship through holes. They are fixing the holes, placing chunks by cutting wooden pieces and chiselling it. 

The boxes containing tea leaves and bales containing tobacco leaves were floating on both sides of the ship. 

Pandian is standing hell shocked at seeing the sea in all four sides. He couldn’t assess the duration of the dance of the sea. No one could watch the clock when it had started, when it had ended and even after long the dance had had ended. When they glanced the clocks, they saw it all had stopped working. 

The ship is on its way without anyone’s control. The boxes and bales thrown out by the sailors during the dance of sea are floating along with them. No one has fully come out of the cyclonic terror yet. The captain Ai Liyang has gone into his hole and smokes his hookah. How far is Penang from there? When would they reach there? – No one was there to answer these questions. 

The captain went to the deck at night and conducted a round of scrutiny over the sky and sea and then scratched his head. Pandian went to him and asked about the situation. The captain replied in a mixture of both Malay and Chinese.

“No need to worry now. We would be able to see the shore in a couple of days.” 

No one ate that night and did not even talk. 

Next day morning the sun rose. The sea waves hit the sides of the ship chasing one after the other. Both birds and fishes were playing in both sides in groups. 

The ship was floating at the whims of the sea. 

Day became night and became day and then became night. The dim light of crescent moon was glittering. The salty air caressed everyone’s body. A shoal of sea cows was following the ship displaying their back with snorts like grunting buffalos swimming in village tanks. The waves were calm and gentle. 

On the fifth day evening after the dance of the sea, some greenery along the horizon where sea and sky met was visible. Approximately after half an hour, the lights of fishing boats were visible. 

“Shore! Shore! Shore!” 

Next day, in the forenoon they were nearing Penang harbour. 

The clock tower is visible. The vehicles and men moving along the Weldtki Street are also visible.

The ship reached the shore and beached. The ships that would undertake long journey were crowding the shoreline. The question that came from every ship - ‘where are you coming from? Where are you coming from?’ 

“Belwan…Belwan”

The travellers going to Sumatra alighted the ship, went to the shore in small boats, crossed the walking bridge and entered customs office and produced their travel permits. 

“Thamir? The Japanese officer roared at them. 

“Yaa. Masta…they bowed their heads as a mark of acknowledgement that they were Tamils. 

After an initial scrutiny of few seconds, the officer gave them their permits back affixing them with his stamps. 

They walked through Market street and entered Chetti Street which was known as Penang Street. The street bore nearly an empty look except a couple of persons striding in it. 

Pandian set out to go to Seeni Mohammed Ravuthar’s shop. Andiappa Pillai and Nallamuthu Konar told him that they were going to Seenaa Kaavanna shop in Queen Street. Others informed him that they would decide where to dump the materials after having it discussed with Maanaa Roonaa shop.

“After having your meals, all of you come to my place. We can share the burden of the cost of materials after assessing the total loss in the sea per head” Andiappa Pillai told and walked to north.

“Yes…that is how it ought to be” Shanmugam Pillai replied on behalf of others. 

***Ended***

Notes:                            

1.     Kundrakudi- Karaikudi- Devakottai – Names of towns in Sivagangai District. 

2.     Singam punari- a small town in Sivagangai District. 

3.     Vandu Meessai- Moustache that looks like feelers of insects. 

4.     Colour- local soft drinks are known as ‘colour’ in rural Tamil Nadu. 

5.     After Abyssinia was captured by Italy, the king Heiley Selassi escaped his country and was running a tea stall in Colombo. This news had been published in newspapers. 

A Boat in the Storm (புயலிலே ஒருதோணி) by Pa. Singaram Chapter 12: Sinna Mangalam

 

Pa. Singaram

Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam. 

Chapter 12: Sinna Mangalam  

 

The ship was on its way towards Penang harbour in the deep sea. The journey that had started in Belawan harbour on Monday did continue on Tuesday and Wednesday and was still continuing on Thursday too. Pandian was holding the rope stockade on the upper deck and looking towards west, as the sun was setting in the west descending slowly from the mid-sky. The water that looked muddier as it got mixed up with the slush of estuary first turned green, then bluish and then finally carried a hue that appeared somewhat dark-blue partly due to mixed hue of blue and black; Incessantly moving water formed robust curls of waves only to come back again to hit the sides of the ship with roar….

It is Thursday. Isn’t it? The evening sets in as the Sinna Mangalam market is filled with the aroma of neem oil. The trader from Melur who used to sell jaggery laced buffed rice balls behind the man-sized basket kept near the entrance arch of the market was counting the coins he earned that day on a jute rug. The accountants and henchmen of Dindigul Ravuthar, a local leaseholder in the market, are sitting under a partition kept slant with a Petromax lamp in front of them, raise their hands holding the opened bottles of lemonade and drink it. On the right, are found the shops lined up towards north where traders are busy selling leaves and tubers. On both sides of the road that runs in front of market’s entrance, are found rows of tile roofed open shops on cemented platforms. The mixed voices of transactions of traders who are busy dumping their items in bales in these shops fill in the air. Bales of paddy rice and vegetables are loaded into carts from the open shops at a distance for Thekkur Market scheduled next day.  

“Come on lad…come on…missing this chance will cost you dear…if the day is gone, it will be gone forever….come on guys….come on…” 

A relentless sound of enticing customers comes out beneath the tamarind trees that are as old as the Kings Maruthu Pandiars. Those trees are standing beyond the hole-like make shift shops made of mud, lighted by tiny clay lamps, laying in a row just opposite to mortared buildings on the right. 

Some boys wearing shabby dirty towels, sitting on the ground with their legs folded with tobacco wastes grouped in handful of heaps in the front on some pieces of jute cloths, were busy announcing its prices aloud.     

“Come on lad…come on…missing this chance will cost you dear…if the day is gone, it will be gone forever…Original Darapuram tobacco…one heap is three fourth of a paise…just a three fourth of a paise for one handful….come on lads…come on….” 

The children of Sinna Mangalam Market traders are learning business and try to earn money on their own by selling tobacco wastes in small handfuls that they had collected either from their fathers’ shops or their relatives’ shops.     

“Come on lad…come on…missing this chance will cost you dear…if the day is gone, it will be gone forever….come on guys….come on…” 

“Look here…the beauty of shop laid by Sivalinga Nadar’s son!” 

Sinna Adaikkala Konar of Kirukkankottai went near to the boy. 

“You can have all three handfuls. One part is just three fourth of a paise…”Pandian, with his Aruppokkottai dingy towel tied on his waist and round shaped tuft on head rose from his place and pleaded him. 

“See here boy…don’t go that pricy…come down a bit”

Konar bent a little and took a sniff of tobacco and lifted his head.

“It is okay…I also get late. Collect all these three bundles for one and a half paise” Pandian told. 

“It isn’t worth that price…You keep increasing its price at your whims.” He again bent down and probed the tobacco digging it up a little. “Let me be lenient a bit as you are a known chap”. Bhatatbi Chettiar’s son Dammanna and Armugam Nadar’s son Palanisami- both from Melpakkam and Karayi Ravuthar’s son Muthalibu and Chokkan Chettiar’s son Nallamuthan- both from Keezhpakkam, grew jealous at Pandian’s turn of luck while resuming their loud chants “Come on lad…”

Konar opened his waist knot of his dhoti, nonchalantly, took out quarter of an Ana and two penny and gave it to him.

“I have only this much”

“Try some more from your pouch. Don’t miss it for a penny. It is a very good quality tobacco” Pandian told.

“I can give you only if I have it. I say I don’t have it. Take this. Cherishing relations is more important than money. Take this”

“O.K..I won’t be losing anything if not I get a penny more. Will I? Mmm…collect it” Pandian collected all tobacco handfuls together and put them onto Kirunkkankottai Chettiar’s towel stretched out to him like a cradle. “A fine quality tobacco from Meenampalayam is on the way for the next market. Do come there” Pandian reminded Konar.

“Coming to the market? Let me consider if I stay alive”

Konar tied the tobacco into one bundle with his towel and walked towards the gate.

“I have sold everything...ah…ah…ah”

A cry of triumph and laughter of pride came out of him simultaneously. He spread a jute rug on the floor and sat on it.

“Dei…don’t you know who first sold everything in the last market” Dammanna burst out and then resumed his enticements in high pitch. “Come on lad…come on…missing this chance will cost you dear…genuine Darapuram tobacco. A packet just for half a paise. Come on guys…you won’t get another chance after dusk. Come on…come on…”

He was joined by other voices which too started reducing their prices and called out to the kings of that market. 

The bustles of the market are slowly waning. The perfume shop owner Samithurai gets ready to leave the market with a dark wooden box carved with brass flowers holding it in his left hand. Uthirpatti Ravuthars who run their meat shops in the north east corner of the market pack the remaining meat pieces in banana leaf, roll it with a cloth and hang it on their left shoulder while holding the balance under their right armpits. They are walking thinking about Nadar Street where they could sell the remaining meat pieces as dry salted meat pieces. Mohammed, a peppermint seller is pushing his bicycle from which columns of marble balls, plastic and fake coral balls are dangling on both sides. He moves slowly throwing the glaring light from his big battery torch light he is holding in his right hand on both sides. Women from Mettupatti are hurrying up to get away from there. Carts rolling away with cracking noise are streaming in from the northern side. The sound of folk songs sung by the bard Muthukutti was floating in the air. 

“A silver hilted sickle

It is the curved sickle of Vellaya Devan

A shell hilted sickle, my golden lady!

It is the brutal sickle of Santhana Devan.

Aaa…eee…eeeiiii

Chariot after chariot

Set them all ablaze

In the light of flames, my golden lady!

Plundering the south street

Aaa..eee..eiiii…

The army of Vellaya Devan breaks open every household

And the Pallar army of Santhana Devan

loots the booty in bagsful.

My golden lady!

Aaa…eeee..eiiiii……” 

“Let’s move. It gets late” Pandian rose, and folded his rug.

Others didn’t move and wanted to wait to try some more time.

“Let me leave” he started running, tilting his head on one side, swinging his right hand drawing circles in air while holding the rug under his arm pit. “Boom….Boom….boom...- sooner did he reach the entrance of the market, did fall out a song from him.

“On the river bridge

Abdul Kader’s motor cycle

Flies like wind- my dear

Flies like wind” 

He turned towards east. On the left, were found street shops selling saris along the market building. Busy sale under lantern light - saris with caltrop designs, papaya’s colour, colours designed with needles, Salem ‘kundanji’ bordered dhoti, Aruppukkottai towels, Paramakudi skirts. There was a row of grass bundles sold by Arasanpatti women in front of the shops, on the right were there a ‘club’ hotel called Gomathi vilas Hotel- an Original Thirunelveli Saivaite hotel run by Sankaramoorthy Pillai that cooked delicacies in earthen pots, Abubakkar’s shop, pawn shop run by Kanadara Manikkam Chettiar, a coffee club shop of Palakkad Iyer, Vazhavanthan shop that sold roasted Bengal gram, and a shop selling nine types of grains run by Karunkalakudiyar where ‘Bear’ Soonaa Paanaa was found leaning casually on his seat in cash running his fingers through his beard parted in two halves. 

“How much does a padi¹ of rice cost Maanan²?

If measured by Azhagappan’s padi, it is five and a quarter…

How much does a padi of black gram?

If measured by Ulagappan’s padi, it is nine and a half…

How much does a padi of green gram Maanan?

If measured by Palaniyappan’s padi, it is eleven…” 

After passing Chellaiya’s shop, was there an idli shop run by a Tirunelveli Saivaite woman. Both elder and younger sisters in white clad with vibhoothi on forehead and Tulsi necklace on neck are selling the crowd idlies and Coriander tea.

Knee high tables of sugar stick sellers have been placed in front of the shop. A small oil lamp is burning on each table. On the floor are found banana leaves spread with flowers kept in heaps. The women from Kodukkanpatti are calling out to customers aloud “Flowers for sale…Marukolunthu, Jasmine, tail grape….” He slackened his speed, turned his head and walked perusing the tables where sugar sticks were kept.

“Dei…are you absent minded?” the oil shop owner Nagamaiya Chettiar admonished him.

“No…I am alright” Pandian retorted.

“Mind the traffic boy. Be careful while walking”

Without looking him back, Pandian hastened his steps.

‘Meda’ Gopal Chettiar’s Pattanam sniffing powder shop was at the corner along the market’s wall. Selva Vinayagar Street that ran on left and the road that ran into the village on right were crowded. There were shops in rows on both sides of temple street. On north, were there Nallan pond, Komutti’s well, Ladasamy ashram, Valaiyar street, peanut fields, toddy shop, farm house of ‘Puthaiyal eduththan’ Pillai, untrimmed palm trees, tanner cassia fields lying beyond the plantation where two rivulets merged, a grove where bears used to graze and Ellaiyamman temple- this is the ancient northern boundary of Sinna Mangalam.

The north facing shop of car agent Naavanna Paanaa is on the road running towards east. Drivers with cropped hair and tongue like collared shirts are standing in front of it. “Dollar’ Rajamani Iyer, ‘Sudden Brake’ Kondalsamy Naidu, ‘Tube’ Bhavani Singh are all standing, chewing betal leaves and smoking cigarettes. Trading of ‘Monkey mark’ kerosene is in full swing. The boys standing behind the stacked tin barrels are busy scooping it in measurements and pouring it out. The shop glitters under a big gas lamp. Opposite to it Appayi Chettiar snacks stall, located adjacent to Selva Vinayagar Temple. Masala beans and Spicy balls- famous in that area are sold against their enduring demands.

“Give me masala beans for three quarters of paise” Pandian entered the crowd, pushed others behind and extended his coin to the shop keeper. Chettiar gives him some beans on a stitched parrot tree leaves, neatly tied with dried banana fibre. Pandian comes out of the crowd, opened the packet and starts eating the beans as he walks southwards.

                                                                  …….

Sitting on the ship’s deck in the middle of the sea, Pandian’s left hand gently rubbed his forehead. ‘Will those days return?...one could run swinging his hands in circles…eat masala beans from Appayi Chettiar’s snacks stall…tamarind Vada sold by Rajali paatti. One could sit comfortably on the dusty street and eat pittu bought from Santhaipettai Periyayi and Paniyaaram bought from Valliyakka staying at the edge of pond. Those days were gone…gone for ever. It was the age of innocence, knowing no art of hiding anything’  

…..

The waves were relentlessly hitting the sides of that wooden ship, rose, fell, sprinkled in drops.

…. 

The ground in front of the Maraiyammam Temple in Sinna Mangalam Nadar Street was bathing in the dim moon light. Young girls with their plaits looking like rat’s tail and skirts were playing ‘hide and seek’ games. Ranjitham sitting on a big stone mortar lying on the edge of the ground was loudly prescribing something to them.

“Block your eyes

Bite your ears

How many fruits are there?

Two…

One for you

One for me

Run…run…runnnnnn” 

On the south, just opposite to Kuppaikaattu Vasal, boys were playing Kabaddi.

“It’s me…your father

Grandson of Nallathambi

I have come to play with my silver cane

I will come to tie Thali

With my golden cane

I am coming…coming….coming for you” 

The sound of drums played in the Pallar Street lying beyond corn fields in the east was floating in the air. Their mothers who came out of their houses one after the other shouted at their children in varied moods, “You donkey! It is already late. Come in….My dear girl…why don’t you please come in?....Enough of your jumping. You …my pain! Come in…”

The girls stopped playing ‘hide and seek’ and left. 

“To everyone’s house

Broad beans for rice

The houses with children

Snake gourd for rice…” 

Kabaddi continued. The elders were standing around and cheered the players up. The songs sung by the players echoed vibrantly.

“On the steep mountains

There were two elephants.

The older one fell off unconscious

The old elephant…old elephant….old elephant…” 

A group of mothers came running to pick their wards in order to make them sleep at the earliest.

“Deiii… Pandi! Will you come now or should I tell your father to get you a couple of beatings?

“Aiyo…I am now leaving” Pandian whined and walked to his house. The sound of drum was still heard from the slum area in the east. On the west, the sound of boys playing “Kittippul” on the road was heard.…

Under the dark blue sea waters, Pandian felt something was moving. He looked at it closely. ‘It must be a big fish or something else living in water’

…

Women are found walking to and fro by the streets-fully cleaned and cleansed with cow dung water. They are carrying either baskets filled with paddy grains or pots filled with water on their heads and waists while their children tailing them with running noses, and some of them are sitting on verandas with their dirty saris and untidy hair segregating paddy husk, measuring rice.

“Have the cattle from the herd left, akka?”

“You ignoramus lady! They have left long ago. The train to Madurai has already arrived in?”

The arrival and departure of cattle was the yardstick of Sinna Mangalam women to keep watch on their times. It is a universal truth that the cattle, as usual, would leave for grass lands lying in the north across the river in the morning and return home in the evening. The big watch tower clock in the Union Office building was not trustworthy. One day it rang six in midday. It was the biggest funny incident the entire village laughed at. Kaduvetti Servai, the bill collector told that the clock had stopped working as it was not wound with the key. Sevuka Moorthy Ambalam, the Union Chairman told that it was due to improper oiling of machine. The women of Sinna Mangalam were not in mood to believe all those petty excuses…

Since then, the women passing by the Union office in the morning and evening while carrying their pots filled with drinking water collected from the village well on their heads and waists used to pass witty remarks at the Union office clock throwing their eyes at it.

“Will it now ring in the midday or midnight?”

“What an excuse that man gave! It wasn’t wound with the key. Was it? Good heavens he didn’t say that it was due to not feeding it with rice”

The women, who are sun drying the boiled paddy grains spread across in rectangular shapes under scorching sun on Nadarpettai streets and the road adjacent to Pettai passing North-South through the village, are found crushing handfuls of paddy grains between their palms to check its crispiness and putting them into their mouth while simultaneously turning up the paddy, sun drying it with their feet as their bodies moving pleasingly.

‘Akka, did you meet his sister in Madurai?”

“No…I haven’t. We didn’t stay there for long. As soon as we had our meals at my brother’s house, we left for kalloorani by car”

“She has been sick for some time. She is now six months pregnant…how much is the price you are selling Sirumaniyan rice?

Though it has been more than three generations since they migrated to that place, the ‘Southern’ slang in their speech was still lively.

In the morning, the traders coming to the market would spread onion, turmeric, and chilli on the Amman temple ground in heaps and collect them after winnowing it. ‘Bloody eyed’ Arunsunai Nadar would be leaning against temple pillar with the book “Big Letter Desinku Rajan” on his lap and recite some sentences he had memorised from the book.

‘Dawood khan signalled the cavalry

Soon surrounded the soldiers.

Despite Raja being surrounded by thirty thousand soldiers

Desinku Raja laughed at them all.

Raja Desingu held two big swords in both hands…

Descended it with force ‘raamu raamure devuraa’

‘Ranku ranku Devuraa”- another swing of swords.

Cut them into pieces and throws them all

Rolled heads after heads on ground

And

Tears everyone apart…”  

Pandian is walking towards his school carrying his schoolbag on his back, with his liberally oiled head and Vibhoothi smeared on his forehead and neck. His mouth was chomping on seedai.

A group of students goes past the corn field. At the corner of Kannakkankundu in the north east direction there are aloevera bushes with greenish thorny petals in round shapes, yellow flowers and violet-red fruits. One could eat them after removing the thorn from its head. But his family shouldn’t know about it lest he would be beaten. Semi arable ground nut field in the front, and a lonely high ground just adjacent to it. Then comes stone trenches. Beyond it, woods where demons are said to roam.- it is the place where the headless torsos roam, laughing wildly, and the flesh eating ghosts perform their riotous dances in the midnight. Vallimuthu is singing behind:

“Catching a garden lizard

And wear it a pair of stud in its ears

Let us beat the drums

Let us beat the drums” 

A small garden lizard is wriggling its body in his hands. They are going past the fence on the road lying between Kanakkankundu and a park owned by Nadar community.   

“I have caught two dragon flies” Theriyappan jumps with joy.

“Dei…give me one” more hands stretched to grab one from him.

Theriyappan doesn’t turn his head. He opens a box where he has kept his writing chalk sticks, takes out a thread, ties it on its tail and releases it to fly away.

“aiiii….aiiii…aiiii” the boys are yelling, and jumping with joy.

The garden’s fence is shining under sun light. Six faced greenish cactus plants are standing like pillars around it. Big sized flowers in round shapes, in white, are sprouting, blossoming and smiling on the branches of those ‘pillars’ sticking out through the cloth fence. Ripe bitter gourd, scarlet gourd creepers, little wild gourd, Intan, Thumbai plants that have shed their fruits are found between those ‘pillars’. Inside the garden, lemon fruits, guava, and pomegranate fruits are found hanging on trees. If the watchman Mayileri is not visible around, one can sneak into the garden through the breaks in the fence and pick a couple of fruits. They hear a song coming from the garden.

 “The troubles I faced are great

Yes…the troubles are great!

Due to the husband who I married

Amidst the sound of drum beats,

the troubles I faced are great di…

the troubles I faced are great di….” 

“Dei….he is there inside” they walk past. On the north of garden, there was a well equipped with a ‘balance’ and a stone bed around it. Two persons are pumping out water and filling it in stone water tubs. Many are bathing; some of them are washing their dhoti on the stone built around it; some of them are rubbing their back on the rough surface of thin man-sized tiles fixed on the wall; on this side of the well, were there a tall rosary pea tree, golden oleander trees grown along thorny ridges; unwilted jasmines, moonbeam plants, a Ganesh temple under the shade of neem and peepal trees stand with their branches tangled. Three persons in wet dhoti and vibhoothi smeared all over are performing ‘thoppukaranam’ in front of it. To the north of Ganesh temple, there was a school- all visible through the fissures found in Kanakkankundu fence.

Along the northern edge of pond, boys from Komutti street wearing jasmine flowers on their plaits arrive in and take a turn toward right.

On the south, there stands a school run by Christians- it was once the building that had housed Palaniyandavar School owned by the erstwhile Sinna Mangalam Nadar Association but has been handed over along with its building due to some internal conflicts. Eldest tutor Arumai Nayagam with his silver wired spectacles on his nose and a thick cane in hands, is sitting at the entrance. The boys climb on the steps, enter the school without making undue noise with their heads looking down.

The first session would be Bible. The students would stand along the wall with their hands folded across their chests and recite a psalm they have memorised in raga taught by the pastor.

“The father in the heaven is our good shepherd.

I will never face disgrace

He showers his grace upon me

On these green grasses.” 

Once the song is over, the tutor would conduct a mass prayer. Others would accompany him and repeat him aloud.

“O! Our father in the heavens! Let us all be absolved of our sins. Let your kingdom prevail. Let this earth be benefitted by your grace just the way it benefits the heaven. Please offer us food destined for us each day. Please forgive our sins the way we forgive the ones who sin against us. Please save us from vices without forcing us to enter the toils of life. The kingdom, power, and glory- all forever belong to you. Amen”

A white pastor used to come there by a big blue colour car once in a month from Madurai. Sometimes his wife and children would accompany him.

“Dei…do you know even small children abroad would speak English. See that puny daughter of Durai! How beautifully she speaks English?”

“No…No…what she speaks can’t be English. She must be speaking something else. My uncle has told you can speak English only when you study B.A”

They hastened their walk through market road for their lunch. The air blower in Sankaran Asari’s iron workshop is in move and the flames rise high. Asari is making axis of carts. Near to it buffalo owner Nayakkaramma’s house and a Maratta Military Club and ‘fat’ Ravuthar’s hoof shoe fixing shed. Ravuthar is fixing shoes on a bull’s hooves lying by the road with the ropes tied around its body. The way to drinking water well; then comes ‘frontal tuft’ Malayali Velayutam’s saw-godown; then the houses and Union office. Kaduvetti Servai, the bill collector is standing in khaki uniform with a sandal vermillion on his forehead and a bundle of documents held under his arm pit.

“Eppo” Muthurakku Pillai’s grocery shop is situated at a turn on the road that leads to the village in the south. Then comes Dandayutham Chettiar’s commission shop. ‘Minor” Kadarkarai Nadar’s sandal perfume shop…he has gramaphone discs. ‘We can leave after listening to one ‘disc’’. “Amaravathi unthanukku azahgaana kalayanamaam” song is just over. The boys are eagerly waiting for the next song. Periyasami Pillai, holding a disc in his hands, oblivious of their presence, adjusts his shirt and scratches his back with the tip of his handmade fan.

Soap seller Chellaiah, chewing betal leaves, is sitting in front of the shop and turns his attention to the boys.

“Hei…students studying in school have no business looking around here. Get out of this place”

The boys run to their homes.

                                                       ***End***

Note: Chapter 13 “The Dance of the sea” will be published soon.