Sins, Not Redeemed in Fire Test (Akkini Pravesam) by Jeya Kanthan

This is an English Translation of “Akkini Piravesam”, a famous, epoch making short story written by Jnanpeeth Award Winner D. Jeya Kanthan in 1966. Translated from Tamil by K. Saravanan. This is 26th English Translation in Classic Tamil Short stories Series.

Jeya Kanthan

It is an evening. A group of girl students dressed in their colourful attire, exuding the appeal of a rain bow, is standing in a queue waiting for the bus at the bus stand in front of the Women’s College. Some girls, rich enough to own cars, bring their cars near the queue, pick up their close friends along with them and leave. The ‘grey’ colour van too, carries the students who otherwise travel by bus usually, and leaves. Once the hustle, mixed with the horn sounds, shrieking voices of conversations and laughter of girls standing there partly frozen due to cold, is settled down in half an hour – that is, after half past five, a group of girl students numbering less than twenty, is standing under a tree near the bus stand in the heavy rain, crushing and almost huddling each other tightly under ten or twelve umbrellas held together.

Holding their books tightly onto their chest, covering them with the hem of their saree, the folds of their sarees inserted between their knees to avoid them getting wet in rain water, those girls are waiting for their buses for a long time on that road located in the middle of the city without much of hustles, amidst the gardens with thickly grown trees, having no place around to escape the rain, and where one could see there nothing other than buildings.  

--On the other end of the road, the coarse sound of a bus is heard.

“Hei…bus is coming” Many voices rise up in unison.

That “diesel run rogue” reaches there, splashing about the water in the street on its sides.  

“bye…bye..

“See you…”

“Zeeeerioooo” the whistle sound of the conductor!

The bus moves with a heavy grunting noise as if it is belching after swallowing up half of the crowd standing there.

About ten or twelve girls only are standing at the bus stand.

As it is monsoon, the night arrives in much earlier than usual.

A cycle rickshaw puller who is on his way, finds a stray bull obstructing his way; he keeps ringing his already-blunted bell briskly to drive away the bull. As it doesn’t move aside despite his efforts, he starts showering expletives on it, completely indifferent to the presence of girls there. The girls are amused at his nonchalant expletives as he has gone afar, giggled intermittently remembering his abuses, and then gradually become quiet.

For long, no any remarkable interesting event occurs on the street after that. Standing in the water for such a long time amidst the irritable silence, their legs sulked and started aching.

No bus has arrived yet!

That stray bull is still standing in the middle of the street. It is an ox. An old ox. One of its horns is hanging on its forehead. The rain water hits its back, speckled with pearls like droplets on its brownish stomach and forms black streaks on its both sides. A part of its body- visibly, the region just above its right thigh, gets tingled frequently due to cold.

How long can they keep themselves amused watching that old ox? A young girl, who was standing there, completely looking different from others in all aspects, cranes her neck forward to have the glimpse of bus, with a sigh.  

… On the other end of the road, the coarse sound of a bus is heard.

The bull gives away a space for the bus to come there, walks across the road casually, goes near to the platform where the girls are standing, and stands hesitatingly as if it is beseeching them of some space for it.

“Hei…it’s my bus…” the eldest girl among them jumps like a kid.

“Bye…bye…”

Hands are waving.

After the bus moves away from that spot carrying a good chunk of girls from the group, two girl students only are standing on the platform- One of them is a little girl. Other is an adult, looking like a regular college going girl. She only has an umbrella and the little girl is also standing under the umbrella with the mercy of the former. The little girl doesn’t seem to be a college going girl. She looks like a high school girl. One could say from her appearance that she isn’t from a rich family. A green colour skirt and an indecisive crimson coloured Thavani, not matching with the colour of her skirt, probably made from the torn and faded saree of her mother. A string of black colour beads, joined by a thread with press buttons, on her neck. A claver shaped stud, fitted with stones –ahh! One of the stones is missing- carved so as to make oil seep through it. Unadulterated bright childlike eyes, shining brilliantly as if her face requires no jewels.

The one who sees her would inevitably remember a newly blossomed flower looking in its simplest, just budded, and having an enchanting beauty that many precious things of this world lack. That too, when she is standing in this rain, wet, legs looking like carved tusks due to standing in the water for long, feet bluish and shrunken, thavani made in old cloth, blouse sticking to her body with her small and shrunk frame due to cold looking like a miniature Amman statue, one would definitely have an inclination to pick her up in his arms and run away. 

“The bus hasn’t arrived yet. What’s the time now?” The little girl looks up, asks the girl holding the umbrella.

“A few minutes to six” she looks at her wrist watch, sulking, and says, “Yonder, a bus is coming. If it is mine, I will leave” the elder girl folds her umbrella.

“Oh..yes! The rain has also stopped. My bus will also come. One bus will start from the terminal at quarter to six. If this bus happens to be mine, I will also leave” she speaks as if she enters an agreement with her. While she is speaking, the elder one is so fascinated with the sweetness of her voice, her lisp like words. She is looking like a baby to her. She pinches her cheeks gently and says, “Be a smart girl. Go home safely” - she kisses her own fingers.

The bus comes. Two buses are coming simultaneously one after the other. The elder one boards the first bus.

“Bye..bye..”

“Thank you. My bus has also come” the little girl squealed, sent the elder off, and at once gets disappointed to see the bus coming behind is not hers. The driver understands from her face that she is not waiting for that bus, and as there are no passengers standing at the bus stand, he doesn’t stop the bus and moves ahead.

She is standing alone in that big road, empty, no any sign of humans in the vicinity. The old ox only is standing there as her companion. At a distance, she could see someone walking around inside the college compound occasionally. Suddenly, the darkness engulfs the area like a curtain and fierce wind that blows following it, shakes the trees on the road; thus causing water droplets falling down from the branches. She stands closer to the tree. After a brief lull, it has started raining heavily. When she is about to run across the road, looking at both the sides of it so as to go back to the college, a big car crosses her way, almost brushing her, halts suddenly and swings beautifully to and fro due to the sudden jerk.

She looks at the car, with her eyes wide open, from its rear to its driver seat as if it is a marvel standing in front of her. The young man who is driving the car, sitting in the driver seat, leans on his left, and opens the rear door of the car with an irresistible smile.

“Please get in…I can drop you at your place” he tells her, looking at her the same way she is looking at the car with her big eyes.  

The corner of her ears and the tip of her nose get reddened with a mere close look of his face. “No thanks…I will go by bus, may be in a while, once the rain stops.”

“O! It’s alright. Get in...” he hurries her to get in. She is standing in the heavy rain, hesitatingly, and it looks as if only a forceful pull of her hand, that is waiting to happen. 

She turns back, looks at the curve along the tree which has given her shelter from the rain a while ago. The old ox is standing there, occupying it.

The car’s door is still kept opened before her. As she sees rain water falling inside the car through the door kept opened for her, she closes it. While closing it, his hand touches hers and presses it lovingly. She pulls it back immediately, looks at his face. What a smile it is! Overflowing with charm!

Now, he also gets out of the car and is standing along with her in the rain. Isn’t he?

“mmm…get in”

Now, she is unable to reject his calling. Does she?

Once she gets into the car, his hands close the door with an arrogance of triumph as if he has conquered her. The car speeds away smoothly on the road with an ease of floating on waves.

Her eyes gaze through the interiors of the car. The cozy, pale bluish ambience inside the car gets her senses hypnotised like a dream. Her body, till then, exposed to the icy wind of the rain, now, finds the warmth inside the car cosy. The car doesn’t seem to be running on the road; rather it seems afloat just a feet above the ground.

She feels it grossly inappropriate to sit in the corner of the car, curling her body, holding her books onto her chest when she has found that the seats are broader enough for a person to lie down comfortably. She puts her books and a small tiffin box aside, straightens up her frame, sits comfortably with an air of dignified bearing.

‘This car itself seems to be a house. Doesn’t it? If one has a car like this, he won’t be in need of a house. This bloke too…aiyo…this gentleman too will have his house. Won’t he? If his car looks this stunning, how beautiful will the house of the car owner look? It must be very big. Mustn’t it? It might look like a palace. There must be so many persons in that house. Isn’t it? I don’t know even who this man is. Ahh! What is this in the middle?…it looks like a tiny table in the middle of seats while pulling it out. We can place the books on it and read, write. If not, two persons can put their heads on each side and sleep comfortably. This small lamp is looking very beautiful, like a lotus bud. No…no…it looks like a lily bud. Can I light it? chee…he might get angry?’

“There is a switch down there” he tells her, as he keeps driving the car, looking at her in the rear view mirror in front of him.

She switches the lamp on, enjoying it its beauty of burning. With the sense of responsibility that power shouldn’t be wasted, she puts if off. She looks at herself once, swipes the water flowing from her head.

“hmm…I shouldn’t have worn this wretched Thavani today”-when she is wrenching the hem of her Thavani, he opens a glove compartment box near the steering wheel, with his left hand. She raises her head at the “ttpp” sound of the compartment  when it opens; ‘O!...a red bulb when the box is opened. Looks nice’. He takes out a small turkey towel from the box, gives it to her.

“Thanks”, she wipes her head and elbows with the towel, and when she wipes her face with it, a strong scent coming out of the towel captivated her. “What a fragrance!” she buries her face in it, wipes it well.

When the car takes a sharp turn in a curve she falls down on one side, screamed, “amma”, her books too fell on one side and the small round shaped stainless steel tiffin box rolled on other side.  

“Sorry” he smiles at her, turns back to her once, looking at her, and then drives the car slowly. Embarrassed at her untimely screaming, she collects all her books scattered down there, smiles, and sits again with same composure.

Seeing through the window glasses, nothing is visible to the eyes. She wipes the water droplets found condensed on the glass with the edge of her Thavani, and looks outside through it.

Lights are burning everywhere in the street. The shades of shops decorated with bright lights are found reflected in the rain water, glaring one’s eyes. ‘It is said that there is a world under the earth. I think this is the one…’

‘Why does this car go by this street?’

“My house is over there.” Her lips mumble.

“So what! Did I say it isn’t there?” he also mumbles, turns to her, smiles at her.

‘Why is this uninvited trouble?’ she is sitting, totally clueless, embarrassed, and yet smiles at him just for his satisfaction when he turns his face to look at her.

The car keeps going.

Going past the main road of the town thickly jammed with traffic, and broader roads replete with big buildings, and entering the avenues full of beautiful parks and gardens, the car is speeding through on an unknown trunk road where the hustle of the town is almost absent.

Since travelling in a car in the rains is a new experience for her, she enjoys it and is very happy about it. Amidst her happiness, an inscrutable fear surrounding the reason for her happiness causes an enormous uneasy feeling in her abdomen and radiated out to her chest as well.

At the same time, she is afraid, feeling uncomfortable to pester him like a kid to leave her at her home.

Now she reminds that little girl who has left her at the bus stand, alone, and those words she uttered while pinching her cheeks, ‘be a smart girl. Go home safely’.

‘I have become an idiot. Haven’t I? Isn’t wrong to travel alone with an unknown man like this in a car? He doesn’t look like a bad guy either. Does he? Whatever it is, isn’t it a presumptuous act on my part to have dared to come with him like this- What will I do now? I feel like crying. Chee…I shouldn’t cry. If I cry, this man might think that I am an idiot and ask me to get down on the way itself, admonishing me ‘You …fool. You deserve to be here’. Then how will I go to my home? I don’t know the way to my home. I have to submit my zoology record note book tomorrow. A lot of works pending!’

“Where are we going now?” –to her nervous question he replies very coolly.

“Nowhere...it’s just a drive”

“It’s already late. Mother will be worried”

“O! yes…let’s go back”

The car takes a turn. Leaving the trunk road, it enters a vast stretch of ground which looks  like a desert, and after travelling quite a distance in that stretch, it stops somewhere in the middle of it. As far as the eyes can see, only darkness and rains have engulfed the surrounding like a protective cover. Only the croaks of frogs are heard as the singular roar in that area. The rain and the wind are getting more furious than earlier.

Even inside the car, they are unable to see each other’s face clearly.

As the car stops abruptly, she asks him with the trembling voice, “Why has the car stopped? Any break down?”

Without responding to her question, he gives out a thunderous laughter. In order to see her face clearly, he switches the radio on. A muted light comes out first, followed by music.

She narrows her eye brows, looks at him, as if she is beseeching him something in that dim light. But he implores her with a smile, as if demanding something in return, in supplication.

A high-pitched sound of trumpet, longer, with intermittent beats and intensely frantic stemming from the radio. Following it, sound of Congo drums, mildly shaking, with the beats inwardly resembling the racing of pulse! He snaps his fingers, moves his neck to and fro to the tunes of the music, turns towards her and asks in English, “Do you like it?”. She nods her head, and says yes with a smile without parting her lips.

He opens the glove compartment near the radio, picks up two ‘Cadburys’ chocolates from it, gives her one. She stares at him keenly, as if assessing his mind as he is sitting on his seat with his legs folded in a relaxed manner. With one hand on the rear seat stretched out with his fingers tapping to the beats of music, he is eating the chocolate in small bites by removing only a small part of the wrapper at its tip without opening it fully.

‘He looks handsome. Seeing him in a skin-tight cloud colour dress, his impressive height, and his complexion shining brightly in that dim light, she can only remember a majestic exquisiteness of a snake. The angle of his left eyes, partly visible while watching him from behind, is shining, emitting lights. His closely trimmed hair which, even a storm, can’t make untidy, and dark side burns descending longer, sharper than usual at the corners of his ears also shine in the muted light. Looking at him from one side, a thought occurs for the fraction of a second that his appeal will be better if his bright face has a small moustache. His eye brows! Enviably thicker, sharper, curved and descending! A mere look at it evokes fear. Doesn’t it? The wrist watch fitted with a thick gold chain on his left hand hanging behind the seat on which he is sitting, shows seven, glitters. His long fingers are tapping to the tunes of music. The tender hairs at the back of his hand stand erect due to icy wind.’

“Aiyo! It is already seven”- she screams suddenly, still eating chocolate, watching his demeanours. He looks at his watch once as she screams suddenly.

Only when he opens the front door of the car to look outside, the roar of the rain is heard as furious boom. In a second, he gets out of the car, stands in the rain.

“Where?” her anxious question falls on his ears faintly only after he closes the door while standing outside. “Where are you going?”

“Going nowhere. I am just only coming to you” he tells in English, fully drenched in rain in seconds, and opens the rear door of the car, enters.

He sits next to her, wiping his face and the nape of his neck with the towel which he has given to her to wipe herself just a while ago, and crumbles the empty chocolate wrappers, throws away it. She is still eating the remaining chocolate. He takes out a small box from his shirt pocket, takes out a candy like stuff from it stacked one above the other, and puts it in his mouth. He gives one to her.

“What’s this?”

“Chewing gum”

“Yuck…I don’t need it”

“Try…you’ll like it”

She eats up the chocolate in haste, and stretches her hand out to him, unable to deny when he gives.

“No” …he doesn’t give it in her hands, and brings it to her face instead, puts it in her lips, and fondles it gently.

She feels as if her head is set ablaze, and the whole of her body burning with a pleasant warmth. She moves a bit away from him, takes it in her hands from his hands and says, “Thank you”.

Both of his eyes stand fixed on her, as if they have been inserted into her eyes. Not being able to face his eyes, shying, she lowers her feeble eyes down very often. As she lowers her eyes down, she is able to see that his knees on the seat are inching closer, slowly, towards her.

She looks through the car glasses. Rain and wind are still ferocious in the dark outside. She moves closer to the door, leans against the door. He also sits away from her, maintaining an honourable distance from her, the hands folded across his chest, looking intently at her, trying to figure her mind out so as to penetrate it.

“Do you like this car?” he asks her in English. His voice, with its coarseness, penetrates into her ears so intimately, magically, and disturbs the innermost part of her privacy. Not showing her disturbed mind, she smiles, and replies, “O! it’s nice”

He delves into deep thought, sighing heavily, looking down, and mumbles in English- “Do you know? This car has been following you for the last two years. Do you know that?” when he looks up, she is spell bound by his words at that moment as if she has been crowned by him.

“Really?”

“Really”

His warm breath rubs the nape of her neck mildly. His most intimate voice rubs her heart, shudders. “Do you like me?”

“mmm….” He finds her curling her body as there is no place there, he moves away from her a bit.

Still it is raining outside. The trumpet from the radio is bringing out novel layers of music one after the other, pouring out in sequence.

“Isn’t very nice?” he asks her to know how she feels about that ambience and experience.

“It’s nice. But I am scared”

“Scared? For what? Why should you get scared?” when he shook her shoulder in the pretext of assuaging her, she gets totally devastated as if the most refined femininity from her body itself has fallen out with his shaking. “I am dead scared….all these things seem to be totally unfamiliar”

‘Why these unnecessary certificates…?’ he mumbles himself, and approaches her with the determination that he is not going to back out this time.  

“May I kiss you?”

She doesn’t know how to reply to this question. She is tongue-tied. Her face sweats even in that cold, body quivers.

Suddenly, her body lays in his hands, shaking violently, writhing in uneasiness of being burnt with fire at her ear lobes, cheeks, and lips, and her mouth begging him to leave her, “please…please…”. He clasped her frenetically, clasped her tightly…as her scream gradually gets thinner and then finally settles down. Her hands are around his neck, tightly clinching it, as if it is an act of vengeance.

Outside…

The sky is torn apart, lightnings flashing, and crash of thunders!

‘Ahhhh…this thunder must have crashed somewhere’

“I need to go home. My mother will be searching me”

He opens the door, comes out of the rear seat. His feet with shoes caked with mud on the ground, while lifting it from the mud, the loamy slush speckles and falls on the car, denting it. A couple of drops falls on her too through the opened door.

She is weeping silently, without his knowledge, unable to control the tears that swell up in her eyes beyond her control due to the pain piercing through, might be either in her body or mind.

Opening the front door of the car, he sits on the driver seat, removes the shoes covered with mud, and throws it away. He takes out a cigarette from the glove compartment near the radio, lights it, takes a puff on his cigarette, and started chewing the chewing gum.

Suddenly an inexpressible urgency gets built up in her mind, and her heart, thoughts, body and her emotion all alike shiver in unison, that, she wants to run to her home at the very moment itself, and fall on the lap of her mother to cry out so as to expiate her blunder.  

But he! He is smoking a cigarette, sitting casually. Seeing his nonchalant attitude, she gets extremely annoyed. Sitting inside the car seems to have been caught in a cave amidst the rocks; dreadful and repugnant at the same time. The cigarette odour puking up, she feels that her body has become muggy as if the wet sludge on the ground has been thrown at her.

The sound of trumpet in the radio comes out like a gekkering of fox, trumpeting and cutting through the body into two pieces. 

Overwhelmed with an uncontrollable angst, she screams, shouts amidst her sobbing, “Will you leave me at my home or not?”

His hand switches the radio off.

“Don’t shout like that” he warns her in an irritated tone. “Don’t shout”

She folds both of her hands, crying heartbreakingly, implores him, “My mother will search for me. If you leave me at my home, you will be bestowed with all the boons of this world”. However, these words spoken by her out of anger do not absolve her from regretting her stupidity, ‘I must beat my wits with the sandals. I shouldn’t have come out like this. Aiyo…every nonsense is just over. Isn’t it?’ – Her wails and anger to an extent of breaking her head into pieces by hitting it somewhere, overwhelmed her. She clenches her teeth, looking so terrifically agitated that he is afraid of facing her.

“Please don’t create scenes” he begs her, sulks, and turns his car swiftly.

The car runs fast, with a roar, emitting its glaring head light on the road in the night.

‘Chee! What nonsense is this? You should’ve told me if you hadn’t been comfortable with it. A beautiful evening is totally spoilt. Pitiable girl! What is she going to achieve by studying in the college? She is still crying. Isn’t she?’. He turns towards her, asks her for forgiveness. “I am sorry…If I had hurt your feelings, I beg your pardon”

He drives the car faster as if he wants to leave her at her place immediately and get rid of that memory once for all so that he can be at peace.

It is still raining outside.

After going past the empty trunk road, entering the avenues full of beautiful bungalows and flower gardens, the car takes a diversion from the main road replete with big buildings, into a narrow street and then takes a further turn towards her house.

He reduces the speed of the car, drives it slowly, expecting that she will ask him to stop the car to alight from it. As he understands that she is such an innocent girl who doesn’t even know that, he stops his car at some place. He tells her, “I shouldn’t come up to your house. So please get down here and go home”. He is sad, feels pity looking at her miserable condition. An unfathomable guilt or some sort of indebtedness overcomes his mind, eyes becoming heavy and shineing with unwarranted tears. He, himself gets down from the car, opens its door, and stands like a servant in the drizzle. Emotions completely numbed, she collects all her books and the round shaped tiffin box that had fallen down inside the car, gets down from it, and stands on the street with her head down, unable to look at his face.

Since it is a rainy night, the narrow street looks deserted. While watching her standing beside him like a child, short in height in the dim light coming from a street lamp post afar, he feels immensely guilty about himself. The unfettered freedom he enjoys is the sole reason that has made him enslaved to such despicable things, he thinks.

“Yes…enslaved!…enslaved to passions” his mind realizes it. He mutters into her ears, like a secret, “I am sorry”

She looks up to him. O! That sight!

His lips shake trying to ask her something. His throat gets choked, can utter only a single word, “what…”

“Nothing” she says. Moves away from him.

When the car speeds along the road, away from her, the red colour light at its rear gets dimmer and dimmer, merges with dark at it goes farther.  

….

The lantern hanging in the hall was found extinguished. Her mother, who was busy working in the kitchen came to the hall and found it in dark without light, took the lantern to the kitchen to light it, and brought back its place after lighting it. Only at that time when she looked at the wall clock, shocked to see as it was already half past seven and turned towards the entrance instinctively, her daughter was ascending the steps at the entrance.

Seeing her daughter fully drenched, hair and cloths telling hidden stories, she felt something turning her stomach. “What’s this stupid look? Why are you looking so emaciated?” she yelled at her.

She came to the hall as if a statue was moving. She stood still like a statue in the lantern light. She cuddled her mother tightly, buried her face on her shoulder, and vented out her tears, hither to, suppressed in her, and cried desolately.

Her mother understood that something was seriously amiss, could only figure out half of what it was with the remaining elusive.

“You stupid! Tell me what had happened? Why are you so late? Don’t cry…tell me”- though she didn’t understand the reason for the pains of her daughter who was crying, hugging her shoulder, writhing in pain like a worm, she was able to comprehend at a level that it was a real pain and empathized with her involuntarily. She wiped her tears with the hem of her saree and patted her back supportively, “why do you cry like this? Tell me what happened.”

Unable to face her mother, she buried her face on her mother’s shoulders, and tells her everything in a lower voice so that only she could hear. From the second she started narrating the events in a feeble voice after her sobbing got settled down, her mother pushed her away from her, stared at her repulsively as if she was a mean, cursed woman.

That innocent girl was still narrating. “It was heavily raining. There was not even a bus coming. That was why I boarded the car. – Then it was, somewhere, looking like a forest area….no human being in the vicinity…darkness everywhere…even though it was raining I wanted to get down and run away….but I didn’t know the way. What could I do? Then…then…Aiyo…amma…that fellow…me…”

Before she completed her sentence, a strong slap from her mother fell on her face in a flash, somewhere on her ear or chin, causing insects like sparkles flying before her eyes. She was thrown to the corner of the room, the books from her hands fell and scattered all around, in all directions and the tiffin box fell, clanked, and rolled somewhere.

“You scoundrel! You have thrown fire on my head. Haven’t you?” – she opened her mouth, was about to yell at her, but got choked with that, her mouth still not closed.

It was a residential complex. On hearing her yelling, her neighbours came running to her.

“What? What had happened?” the aunt from the rear house came straight way to the hall, enquiring curiously, as she was wiping her wet hand in the hem of her saree.

“Nothing serious…It is not that urgent for her to come in this heavy rain. Isn’t it? But this girl has come fully drenched. I am spending a lot of money on her education and if she falls sick just before the examination due to her recklessness, all will go waste. Won’t it? It is her good time that her brother isn’t at home. If he had seen her drenched like this, he would have skinned her by now” – her mother managed the show with her false exasperation.

“It’s alright….it’s alright. For this silly matter, will you beat this child?” the rear house aunt didn’t find these developments interesting, and she left.

Her mother closed the entrance door and the windows. She stared at her daughter with the fiery eyes, who lay curled at the corner of the room like a kitten, not showing any sign of pain of getting smacked, lay immobile, and expecting her mother to beat her till death. 

‘What should I do with her? She has caused an indelible stain on the honourable family. Hasn’t she? O! God! Now what will I do with this girl?’ she turns towards her.

Behind her mother, the embers were burning with wavy flames in the oven in the kitchen.

Her mother thought once, “Why shouldn’t I throw a winnowing basket full of burning embers on her head?”

--Her daughter dying in the fire, writhing her body like a worm appeared before her eyes.

‘After that? Will this tarnish be washed away with her death?’ Her mother stood confused, unable to understand anything. She clasped her hair, lifted her face.

She pulled the wick of the lantern more for brighter light, brought it near to her daughter’s face, and examined each inch of her body from head to toe. Unable to bear her frowning stare, she covered her face with her hands, and begged, “Aiyo…amma…please don’t look at me like that” and turned her back to her mother, buried her face on the wall, sobbed fervently.

“God! You only have to punish that sinner” her mother cursed him from her heart, covering her mouth. Though her hands hesitated to touch her daughter, a thought of sympathy for her, that she would have nowhere to go if she rejected her, came over her mind, and she touched her with her trembling hands. She bemoaned, ‘it’s all my destiny”, sighed heavily, holding her hands tightly and led her to the wash room with the lantern in her hands as she had understood profoundly that no recourse was possible either in getting angry with her or punishing her.   

‘What should I do with her now? If I am able to find out who he is…? I can dump this girl on his head. Can I ? O! My God! How can I oblige this girl to spend the rest of her life with that animal? I can kill her instead. What should I do?’ her motherly heart wailed helplessly.  

She brought her near to the water tub, kept the lantern in the niche, prayed to all the gods and goddesses she knew to absolve her innocent daughter of all the tarnish that befell upon her.

The girl was standing, body huddled, hands folded across her chest as if she was shivering in cold.

Without speaking a single word to her daughter who was standing like a statue with her eyes closed, she removed all her dresses by herself. She detangled her braided plait and spread across, covered her milky white back. She was sitting like a machine, huddling her knees. Taking water from the tub, her mother poured pots of water on her head. She applied soap nut powder on her head, rubbed it well, and asked her in a lower voice, “Do you know him?”

“No…”

“Let him be perished. What could be the punishment apt enough for that scoundrel?”

--clenching her teeth, she spread her fingers soaked in soap nut powder paste, like that of a tiger, got up with grimacing stare, her eyes looking blood-thirsty.

“mm…No matter whether the banana tree or the thorn that swings, it is the banana tree that gets torn apart- the ferocity that came like a storm in her got a while ago, got subsided, and she rubbed the soup nut powder on her head violently as if she was trying to erase the destiny of all womenfolk altogether.

Suddenly she remembered her dead husband who left her when her daughter was just two years old, and wept thinking about him. “Had he been here around…noble soul…better on his part that he is no more without seeing this disgrace.’

“My child! No one should know about this. If they know about it, an entire family will perish, for sure. They will never think even for a second that they also have girl children at their home and something like this might happen to their children too. They will spoil the entire family as if they have age old enmity with us. I am talking about others. Ain’t I? If such thing happened to others, would my tongue speak like this way it speaks now? It would speak differently for sure. It has spoken many such things earlier. Hasn’t it?’ she kept on bemoaning, took out a towel from the cloth line, wiped her wet head. After drying her head, she lifted her face, looked at her sharply. For a second, she gazed at her daughter’s face which looked like a shiny ceramic plate cleaned just a while ago which was, indeed, far from being stained by the impurities of youth. She gently kissed her forehead lovingly. “You’ve become purified my child! Totally purified! What I poured on your head was not water. It wasn’t water. Think…it was fire. Now, no stains, no dirts..You are as pure as marble. You are just a marble. One becomes dirty only when they have dirt in their mind. I can see through your mind. But the world can’t see it. Can it? That is why I am telling you all these that this world should never come to know about it. What? Why are you looking at me like this? Are you worried what would happen if they come to know? What would they know? At the most, they would know that you had come with some unknown man in the car. That’s it. If anyone speaks anything more than this which they haven’t seen with their eyes, I will tear their mouth into pieces. Won’t I? So…think that nothing has happened to you. Nothing has happened to you at all. They would cook up the stories just by seeing you coming in a car. Wouldn’t they? Going by this, there will always be a group of people cooking up so many stories about so many persons. Leave those blokes aside. I am just telling all these only for your good. No dirt in your mind! I am reiterating all these to make you believe that you are pure. Believe in yourself! You have become pure. What I say is a truth…You have become totally pure. While walking on the street, many a time we step on filths. Don’t we? We don’t amputate our legs for this. Do we? We just wash it away, and enters the Puja room. The God doesn’t chase us away anyway. Does he? It’s all about the purity of mind. Our mind should be clean, pure. Do you know the story of Akalya? It is said that she became sacred at the touch of Lord Rama’s feet. Just because she didn’t commit any sin knowingly, she had had the boon of getting touched by Lord Rama’s feet. Why I am telling you all these is that your mind should not get spoiled by what had happened. It is just a bad dream. Forget it. Nothing had happened to you”

Her mother took out the dried clothes from the cloth line, gave it to her, and asked her to wear it.

“What’s that you are chewing?”

“Chewing gum”

“Spit that shit out. Chee….spit it out! Gargle your mouth clean once and come here” telling this, her mother went into Puja room.

Her mother went in front of the picture of Gods, her eyes closed, stood for some seconds with her melting heart. She told her daughter standing beside her, “My child! Pray to the God to give you a beautiful life. I am also responsible for all what had happened. While sending an adult girl out, I should have been more careful about this wicked world. The happiness I had about my daughter going to the college had actually obstructed my reason. That said, even now you are my child anyway. Aren’t you? But you are no longer a child to this world, my child! Just forget it. I said forget it. Didn’t I? No….be careful in future by not forgetting it. Don’t disclose this matter to anyone. In this matter, no one is worthy enough to consider as closer one. Pledge that you will never disclose this matter to anyone. Her mother stretched out her hand to her daughter as if the former was begging to keep her secret. She caught her mother’s hand, pressed it with her hands affirmatively, and told, “I will never tell this to anyone”

“As you get good marks in the examinations, I thought you are really smart girl. But you have become really smart only now. Be a smart girl in future too” she held her daughter’s face in one hand, and applied Vibhoothi on her forehead with another hand.

The luster of the flame, burning in the standing lamp in the puja room, was shining in the eyes of that innocent girl. It was not only just a shadowy dance of the lamp; her mother understood that it was also the brightness of a fully matured femininity beaming in its fullness.

….

Over there, she is going to the college. Hundreds of luxury cars do cross her way anyway. But she doesn’t even raise her head to have a glance of them. Does she? Yes…sometimes, she glances at them. But only a sense of watchfulness remains in her eyes that no car should cross her way and she shouldn’t cross any other car’s way.

***End***

Translated from Tamil by K.Saravanan

Source: Jeya Kanthans’s “Akkini Piravesam” short story.