ATTENTION READERS: As a personal tribute to writer Pa. Singaram, English translation of his epic novel "Puyalile Oru Thoni" (புயலிலே ஒரு தோணி) is being published in serialized form in this blog.
Showing posts with label The Black wooden doll (மரப்பாச்சி) by Uma Maheswari. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Black wooden doll (மரப்பாச்சி) by Uma Maheswari. Show all posts

Saturday 14 October 2023

The Black wooden doll (மரப்பாச்சி) by Uma Maheswari

Uma Maheswari 

This is an English translation of “Marapaachi”, a short story written by Uma Maheswari. Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam. 

To know about writer Uma Maheswari, please click here.

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Father got onto the loft in search of something but was holding a different stuff in his hands when he got down. It seemed that a layer of his past was found dimly settled on him. His face bore the traces of tiredness of having handled old items along with his memories. Father called out to Anu. He just wanted to collect the playful enthusiasm from him and transplant it into her immediately as they were hanging on the edges of this fast, mundane life facing all threats of being phased out anytime and getting shattered. He gave it to her with an inscrutable smile on his face. It was packed safely in a small old yellow colour cloth bag. Anu flipped it once and relished the enamouring secrets hidden in that unopened bag for a minute. ‘What is inside? A bundle of Palmyra sprouts? A box full of pencils? Or an illustrated story book rolled into a bundle? When Anu, an eight-year-old girl was unable to bear the suspense posed by this riddle, her father was primarily concerned whether his daughter would like what he had given to her. She opened it in haste and found inside a puny black doll of a girl made of wood. Its antiquity had now become Anu’s source of interest. The doll neither did have the perfect beauty of divine idols nor the absurdity and lustre found in plastic dolls spit out by machines. It had a mild uniform coarseness that didn’t overtly hurt one’s fingers. A beautifully carved small body for easy holding; elongated hands, folded; legs placed on a tiny pedestal; eyes that carried melancholy of life in its gentle arcs; and frozen lips. “Aiiii…her hair is plaited too” – Anu fondled every part of it tenderly. Her father pointed at the fine lines visible in elbows, legs and face and explained her that there lying the sounds of chisels and artistic language of the sculptor in each particle of it. As he was contented at seeing her face brimming with amazement, her father left her alone to enjoy her moments with her new playmate.

Her deft handling of toy woodenwares, a small oven, pots, bowls, big ladle, and spoons that were found neatly arranged like specimen of a futuristic kitchen had left her very tired. The honk of toy train running on the circular rails casted a shadow of misery in one’s heart. The lisps of toy birds- parrots, Minas and pigeons- were penetrating the clouds incessantly. The women in plastic were standing timid as they were unable to bear the burden of her fantasies.   

Her mother is busy with cooking, washing clothes, and cleaning the floor. Then she would massage the baby girl’s hands and legs with warm oil and bath her keeping the baby on stomach upon her legs. Then she would dry baby’s hair, lace it with frankincense smoke and sit in a corner for a long time cuddling the baby against her breast covering its head with her sari. 

“Mummy, can I lie down on your lap?” 

“You are not a small girl. Are you? - Speaking with the pregnant stomach bulged up to her chest has left her gasping for air. The insufficiency of love that her mother shows on her after dividing it, leaves Anu burdened with pain.    

Lying on bed, her father keeps the baby on his folded legs and swings it like cradle. He plays with the baby making sounds with rattles. He is talking with the baby poorly imitating its lisp.

If Anu asks him who the king is in the story and pesters him with such questions, he used to reproach her for asking questions like a grown-up woman. 

“Who am I? A grown up woman? Or a small girl?” – Anu asks the wooden doll. The wooden doll remains silent, blinking at her. 

“I don’t have anyone. Do I? I am all alone” – the wooden doll would listen to her complaints patiently. When Anu touches its cheeks with a ‘hot seed’ after rubbing it on floor, it would yell at her with pain wrinkling its face. When Anu tells her that if the seed of Monkey pod fruit is kept on the beam of entrance door after carefully removing its upper layer without causing damage to its brownish interior, even the day dreams would become true, the doll would readily attest her belief with a reply ‘yes’. As a student in the school Anu had established, as a child in her cradle, sometimes as her mother, and sometimes as an angel in her dream world, it remained with Anu all the time.  

When the wooden doll narrated stories, a bluish light would spread across its eyes- the stories the wooden doll had learnt when it was the heart of trees, the ecstatic narratives of trees kissing the sky, the stories of rainbows sparkling inside rain drops….Anu slept on the lap of at least one story every day. 

The years that went by melted her and brought her into a new frame- Long and shiny hands, toned shoulders and the curved hip with renewed tenderness. When she touched her nipples for the first time in the bath room while bathing, she came running to the wooden doll, visibly intimidated, anxious and narrated everything to the wooden doll. The wooden doll showed Anu its sharp, cone shaped breasts. 

Her mother gets worried when she sees Anu closing bath room doors and keeping herself isolated. Even when her mother approaches her lovingly to apply oil on her head, Anu moves away from her with an excuse that she doesn’t require it. The more her mother tries removing the screens obstructing her from going near to her daughter, the more she has started feeling the curtains are growing more in numbers between she and her daughter- a reality that haunts her. She was longing to feel the newly appeared curves on Anu’s body lying behind the permanent thin curtain that separated her from her daughter. 

When everyone goes to bed, Anu’s mother used to sit by her bedside. Her penetrating eyes would be wakeful while Anu is asleep. Her palm would gently crawl over Anu’s body obviously in search of something. If Anu asked her half sleep “what are you groping for?”, she would pull her hands back swiftly and mumble something inaudibly and lie on bed showing her back to Anu. Anu could feel that her mother’s eyes and queries are showering on her through her mother’s back. 

Nowadays her mother takes extra care in adjusting Anu’s school uniform while she leaves for school. If she comes late from school even by ten minutes, her mother grows unduly restless and anxious. Wherever she goes, the warmth and tenderness of her mother’s eyes follow her as protective layer. 

Anu was amazed at seeing the wooden doll getting dull when she gets tired and vibrant when she is jubilant. She has witnessed the same upheavals that made her intimidated and agitated reflected in the wooden doll as well. She starts feeling that she has grown so intimate bound by some invisible rays with the wooden doll. 

The uncovered body of the wooden doll would blossom like parting lips when its eyes that shine beyond the eye lines and the gap of crook made by its waist and folded hands are sucked out. The world of Anu would slip into it, slid into it and shrink. Her friends call her out for playing but return dismayed, curling their lips. Anu would be lying at the corner of her cot, curling her body inward amidst the dimly animating movements of dead television screen, the darkness that crawls along night and windows flapping in the wind. The eyes of wooden doll sitting on the table is knitting softer nets that could sing lullaby for her. Its breasts seem to have been fallen off and are found with thickly grown hair instead. Its curved waist line appears to have been straightened, body gets toned with strength and the doll takes the form of a man with a curved moustache, the form which is exquisite and lovable. It moves slowly towards Anu and comes near to her bed. Its long shadow falls on the cot and devours Anu. As soon as it spreads its dark nerves on the bed, they start drawing new characters on it- the hands of a prince that pick up the princesses while striding on horses in Ambulimama stories, the legs of a lover chasing his lady love in movies, the lips that kiss the cheeks of women whose eyes are half closed on television screens, the winking eyes falling on her with a burst of feelings on streets and crowds, the soothing frames of her mother, the captivating moves of her father laced with anger. All are looking like some broken pieces of shadow and a man is taking his form with all rare niceties of music. Being not conscious about her ‘self’, the way she is able to take notice of his animating existence in her which she hasn’t witnessed so far is her most amazing experience. The way he turns himself into a reality in the deep directions of her privacy known only to her has bloomed like an expanse of freshness. That night became longer, still unbroken even amidst the urgencies of dawn. Anu loved her body the way she never loved it before. The days were still under the glee of hiding the secrets of dreams. The wooden doll that would throng to cuddle her when she comes back from school, its heavy face for her being late, their secret coquetries, the kisses received when her mother is absent; his presence on the bed well before her arrival. If her mother tries to snatch away the wooden doll from her hand while sleeping, her hands would tighten its hold on the doll even while she is sleeping. Her intimate moments with the doll are hilarious with her total surrender into his hands, playing with the curly hairs on his chest, pulling the tip of his moustache, and pinching his shoulders gently. She is descending on the steps of her longingness. She is just wetting the tips of her feet on the edges of desire struggling to move away from it, and at the same time having no courage to take full dip into it. When her aunt came to her house during Christmas holidays, Anu, holding her skirt between her legs, was inserting a pumpkin flower into a ball of cow dung placed in the centre of Kolam. Her aunt was stunned at seeing her and told, “Anu…you have grown. Haven’t you?” and hugged her. Different types of dishes kept on the dining table and her mother serving food to everyone’s contentment. When her aunt asked her mother to send Anu with her, Anu saw the traces of dread spreading across her mother’s face. 

Aiyo…Mathini…we won’t swallow her. Will we? Is it wrong if the auspicious time of her attaining puberty does happen at our home? I don’t have children. Do I? Let her come to my house at least for once.” Her aunt pulled Anu towards her lovingly. 

Anu stood clueless at seeing her mother’s pain as if someone is severing one of her limps from her body. When Anu kept the wooden doll on the clothes kept in the travel bag, her aunt took it out and said, “This is not needed as there are a lot of dolls at home”. Anu was deeply hurt by it. 

She loved the journey- moving trees, the cheerful air, the bluish slants of hillocks- everything seemed to be new. 

Her Mama was speechless on seeing her growth visible in the dark green skirt which Anu’s mother had her wear forcibly. She could feel something unusual piercing through her from the very moment her Mama stared at her and she felt uneasy about it. He asked her “You are in Eighth grade or ninth?” His eyes that settled under her neck without even bothering to get answers to his questions increased her uneasiness. “How changed are you now? Are you the same girl with running nose, playing around wearing a small frock?”- When he pulled her towards him holding her waist against her willingness, her uneasiness became more evident in the heat of his breath. It spread across his clumsy palms that groped her body on the pretext of showing concerns about her tight clothes. She released herself from his hands and ran away. 

Her aunt loved her. She made Appam made of palm jaggery, Rava Paniyaram and tiny balls made of lentils soaked in milk mixed with sugar for her. Her love only just fell short of feeding Anu with her own hands.

“Can I make a ‘thousand legged plait’ on your hair today? She plaited her hair, brought some wild jasmine flowers from the backyard of her house and strung it together with a needle, tied it on her plait, turned her face towards a big mirror and gave her a small mirror in hand and asked, “Now see for yourself. How gorgeous you are!” 

The hidden sides of her mother’s love found their place in her aunt’s love. She preferred sleeping very closer to her aunt, along the wall looking over the hem of aunt’s sari. In a single snap of fingers he erases that distance and comes out of her wooden doll. He finds himself lying down gracefully between she and her aunt. He mixes himself with her flesh and nerves when she is sleeping. When they are under the influence of an unending bond, all their intimate moments get cut off with the entry of a stranger’s eyes. With a shiver in her body, Anu wakes up. She feels an urgent need of attending to her nature’s call. She opens the door, goes past the coconut trees, Coral Jasmine flowers and henna tree….Aiyo…it is very dark and cold here…It is frightful. Can I wake aunt up? No…No…She is asleep due to tiredness’ Her nose rings are glinting when body moved up and down with her breath. The child hidden in her is visible in the hair fluttering near her ears, and the drops of sweat found on her cheeks.  ‘I must sleep somehow. No….I couldn’t do it. Abdomen hurts as the bladder  is  full.’ She gets up slowly without waking her aunt, tiptoes like a cat without making noise from her anklet, hits the dining table and regains herself and manages to switch on the light. The mild creaking sound of key turned in the key-hole bursts through the softness of tranquillity. She hears her aunt rolling on the bed. “Will it be very dark out there?’, she releases the latch with a sound, still fear and shiver not leaving her, and opens the door only to see the smiles of shining stars. The yellow light of electric bulb casts its shadow on ground like tiny snakes- looking very beautiful, not intimidating. She laughs at her fear. The skirt flapping in the breeze. The fragrance of wild jasmines. The aroma of green leaves. Intoxicating aroma of henna flowers. The garlands of stars dancing very near. The suppleness of moon light. Even the screeching noise of bath room door sounds sweeter. The lightness of body after getting relieved of urination. “I love to sit beside this henna tree. No…my aunt would be searching for me.” While coming back, Anu felt that she wasn’t all alone. She felt a hundreds of eyes fixed on her body. As she started running upon her reflex, she hit herself on something solid and felt two rough hands tightening their grip over her body. The same hot breath she experienced in the morning. ‘Cheee…It can’t be. Am I possessed by a spirit? Her face was crushed against a chest full of black and grey hair. Showering kisses- on cheeks, lips, neck. Fingers in search of something which either got sprouted in her or not yet showing any signs of it actually crushed it in place of caress. It was when her tender breasts were crushed, she shrieked. That shriek emitted without words woke her aunt up. When she was laid on a dried bed of coconut leaves, she fell into nadir of unconsciousness. Her Mama’s heavy frame pressing on her tiny body. As her aunt came running there, Mama left her body swiftly. Aunt shook Anu, tried to bring her back to consciousness, “ Anu…Anu…what happened?” She was still unconscious. “She must have fallen down while going to bath room”- Mama’s timely comments. Aunt scooped her up silently, and had her lain on bed. 

A vague vision in her semi-conscious state- Is that what it is? Is it that? Is it how faces would come nearer to each other? Two flowers would be shown dancing and coming near to each other. New birds would be shown flying across the sky. Bluish clouds and green grass beds would treat each other. The sound of flute would waft through the air in all directions. Isn’t it how everything would be shown in songs? I would have liked what had happened had it been done like this. Would I? No…never…that too this Mama…grey hair on his ears! Foul odour of cigarette from the mouth! Unbearable senile libido exposed in the tight grips of weakened arms! The chest pit gets choked at the very thought of it. The whole body is burning. The breasts are aching with burning sensation. The eyes are getting dimmer.’

“Aiyo Anu…you have a temperature. Take these tablets”- Aunt was crying, covering her mouth with her sari. She ran into Mama’s room and shouted something in high pitch in anger. 

“Can I never be what I am? Mama’s touch was not like that of my father. It must be thousand years since my father last touched me. Mustn’t it? Is he my first man who had touched me? What all else got destroyed by the body that hit me and crushed under it? Will the images that got burnt in the flames of forcible assault be brought alive again? What was that got crushed and destroyed by Mama? Something has happened to me. What have I lost? Sleep engulfed her eyes like a wet rug. 

The routine sounds of morning filled in the house- the sound of gas lighter, the whistle of milk cooker, and the sound of cooling down something in tumbler. 

Aunt goes near to Anu who is lying on bed awake. She extends a tumbler, and says, “Please have this coffee”. 

“No. I don’t need it. I want to go back to my mother” 

She ignores all her aunt’s sincere efforts of comforting her. Mama keeps the newspaper aside and goes near to Anu. The feeling of guilt which he couldn’t hide is sitting on his face unashamedly. 

“Can I bring you a new frock?” Anu pushes his hands away that try to touch her. Mama leaves her as her aunt throws a frowning stare at him. 

The journey becomes essentially longer. Doesn’t it? How many wheels that roll down with its own pace? The silence of her aunt seemed to have touched Anu’s heart. It appeared that her aunt bore the feeble image of Anu’s mother. ‘Ma, what will tell you? How would I tell you about this?’  

“What happened? Why have you come back so soon?” her mother came almost running with the baby sitting on her waist. Her eyes went beyond to have an embracing look at Anu. Her aunt standing with a forcibly brought smile on her lips and tears in eyes! 

“Your daughter had a temperature within a day she left you” her aunt tells mother. Her mother’s eyes, not believing aunt’s words, fall on Anu trying to find out what it is- as if checking cracks on a china plate which had fallen off inadvertently and not broken. 

Anu runs into her house. The house filled with a gloom in all directions. A supernatural silence of sort fills in air in the house. ‘What is my wooden doll?’ Anu started searching for it- above the television box in the hall, amidst other dolls kept in the kitchen and in the cradle where the infant sister sleeps. It is found nowhere. “It must have developed cracks and broken into hundreds of pieces. Mother must have cleaned up everything and thrown it out.’ Tears welled up in Anu’s eyes. When she lay on bed with her tears still rolling down, she saw her wooden doll standing by the window. But it didn’t bother looking at her side. Other than her, the light of its eyes were found in all the places. It was lying at the corner so as to avoid Anu’s touch. Her heart ached as she understood that she wouldn’t be able to revive her intimacy with it again. Looking at it closely showed her that the wooden doll’s waist line had developed its old curves and it had regained its feminine graces. Anu stared at its breasts with hatred that had started showing up again. 

***Ended***

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