Rising Heat, page 7
‘Go, bring your father back, go now!’ The voice that was trying to shake the boy back to consciousness ended in tears. Thatha slid down right there and cried. Appa returned with burning breath that had touched mighty peaks of wrath before beginning to calm down. His singular ire was visible in his eyes. A force that could easily raze the entire colony. A fury that could destroy the concrete edifices with just one foot. Suppressing all those emotions, he joined his father and found his voice to sob aloud.
Unable to help either of them, the boy pitifully called out, ‘Appa, Appa.’ His voice drowned in his own tears. He lifted up his grandfather to his feet, saying, ‘Get up, Thatha.’ Thatha got up with a residual whimper. Appa walked ahead and they followed him. The rain grew stronger. The raindrops fell pitter-patter on the baskets protecting their heads. In the surrounding darkness the houses moved. As they approached the low-lying area, they heard the waves breaking on the banks. The water crashed loudly against the colony’s compound walls. The sound of the floods gushing in at a distance still didn’t cease.
As far as one could see, water stood gnawing on the darkness. Lightning flashed periodically to show the expanse of the flood. The boy wanted to jump into all the waters and swim to his heart’s content. Swim without ever touching the shore. And at the dawn of day, sink into the waters. He walked alongside his grandfather, drowning in his thoughts. It had been ten or fifteen years since the lake was built. He had never seen so much water in it in his life. Usually, there were only little pools of water stagnated here and there. The locals fished in those puddles over and over again, mixing up all the mud and creating a quagmire. Some years, the water filled up to a quarter of the lake’s capacity. Those times were a lot of fun. Once, Selvan, Mani and he had got together and chased a pygmy goose. It had put its face straight into the water and gone in quickly, as though performing a somersault. It had then come out from some other location at a distance. The boys had breathlessly persisted in their efforts to capture it; they had formed a circle around it and tried to grab it. Um-hm. Now, more pygmy geese would come along. They would build nests among the thorn shrubs that hung everywhere and lay eggs.
All in all, the nest that the two oldies lived in was torn asunder. The top of the front facade could be seen above the water. The lake was sure to subside once the water submerged the whole shack. The chickens would have climbed the roof and escaped somehow. But the things that were inside the shack? It was impossible to go anywhere close to that place in this darkness. The sky was still lamenting. They didn’t know what to do. The rage from seeing Thatha and Paati arrive in such a state in the middle of the night had made them rush over, as if they were going to accomplish something by coming here. But nothing could be done now. If they got into the water in this darkness, they wouldn’t be able to gauge the depth or the force of it. Nor would they be able to recognize it if something went floating by in the water. The water could wash away even snakes. They felt they should return to the valavu.
‘It’s almost time for the rooster to call. Let’s go back to the valavu and come back again. It will be dawn by then.’ Without removing the baskets from their heads, they kept the sacks wrapped around them and perched on the pile of gravel. The clamour of the rain beating down and of the flood was similar to the noise at a race that climaxes as the runner reaches the finish line. That, along with the excited croaking of the frogs, all spread into their ears as cacophony. The soft protests of the lake as it began to overflow slowly increased in intensity. The palm trees were now submerged in water. They once stood aloof as if they had nothing to do with anyone around. Thatha and Appa shrunk to squat like bats. The boy gently rested his head on his grandfather and closed his eyes.
Out of nowhere, Mani came running wagging its tail and licked the boy’s feet with a whimper. Thatha rubbed its back but the boy was angry with it. The devil, he never came to the valavu. He kept roaming about in the colony. He would go to the low-lying area to eat what Paati fed him and then lie there for some time in a pit. And then he would dash away. Just what was so special about this colony? The dog kept stroking his leg. The boy kicked it fiercely, with irritation. He must have hit the dog quite hard. Without a peep, it stood in a corner, quietly.
‘What did it do to you? Poor thing, you think it understands all that is going around here, like we do?’
As he said that, Thatha loosened his legs from his squatting posture and his lap became available. It was so comforting for the boy to lie there in the rain. But, in that state of neither sleep nor consciousness, satanic dreams took over. A pair of cruel hands was grabbing, tearing his body organs apart and throwing them around. His fingers fell into the water. Stubby and resembling temple floats, they were chomped on by schools of fish. But the flesh kept growing back as they ate them. Tickled, he shook his hands.
‘Ponnaiyya, Ponnaiyya!’
That was Thatha’s voice. The day had dawned and there was light all around. But it was still cloudy and there was no sun. The noises had subsided and the water ran normally. The only sound was of water draining. The running water stroked the thorn bushes, and embraced the palm trees. It ran over the mounds and flattened them. It flowed through one end of the shack and came out blaring through the other. All the blockades and fences that were installed hung torn, missing parts. Things that were submerged and moved with the water showed up waving their hands at various places. The chickens stood on top of the shed covering each other with their wings. They repeatedly put their beaks into the water to see if they could get in and pulled them out with a disappointed ‘kekkeeekk’.
As the sky brightened, others joined them one by one. Paati, Amma, Periappa, Chithappa. From close, from afar. They trudged through the water to help save any life and any object that escaped the storm.
Periappa had arrived at dawn itself. It had been a month since he had set up the weaving business. He had rented some space from some weaver in Thenur, built a structure by himself and installed ten looms in there. Even when they lived together in the farmlands, he would go to run the looms when there was no cultivation work to be done. After the ancestral lands went to the colonies, he continued working at the looms for two more years. But how long could he stay a labourer? He had some money that he had saved and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity to start out on his own, in case there was no other. Getting men to work at the looms was posing to be the biggest problem. Even the ones that came to work switched workshops every week. No one was interested in running the loom consistently at the same place.
Aalkudi Raman’s son and Rangan’s son-in-law worked at his workshop. Raman’s son Shaktivel hadn’t come to work for two days. Periappa wanted to see him at his home and call him back to work. Because he didn’t know where he lived, he took the boy to show him the way. Before he left, Paati called out to him and said, ‘My eldest Payya, before you leave, come back to see me.’
The water in the lake wasn’t fully drained yet. It had been more than ten days now. Paati and Thatha were still staying with them. They went to work as usual and came back to them. One day, Paati came back saying there was no more farming work left and went with Akka to work at the construction site. But she didn’t like that at all. ‘The hands that worked with grains shake when holding the cement bowl, Payya,’ she said and didn’t go back the next day.
Paati and Amma didn’t get along at all. There was no fighting out in the open yet. But some frowning here and there. Some pouting. Ignoring food and accepting it later, and so on.
Thatha didn’t say anything. If he was offered food, he ate. If not, he didn’t ask for it. His policy was different. ‘In a farmer’s house, there may be plenty sometimes. And sometimes there may not be anything. I am just an old piece of log. But I’m not going to die if I don’t eat a meal.’ There were absolutely no complaints from him about the rice and saaru. The man who used to taunt his wife all the time about them didn’t say a word here. If the food had less salt, he didn’t ask for more. He made his extraneousness known with his silence. What could you do to a man who didn’t react to anything?
‘Do the old man and old woman behave themselves? Or do they sit there and harp on some trifling detail?’ Periappa asked the boy.
‘They don’t do anything like that, Periappa. They behave themselves. Still, living together is tough.’
‘I know that, da. Even though she is my mother, the old lady can be quite the nag. Why do you think she asked me to stop by on the way back? She is going to ask if they could live with me, just watch . . .’
He had that fear in him. He did not wish to take in the old man and woman, to give them some space and feed them. He had the excuse of living with his father-in-law. This time around, though, blaming him wouldn’t be fair either. Even if he agreed to take them, Periamma wouldn’t let him. It took Periamma an entire day just to cook rice. She moved around and worked very slowly. If there were two more people to feed, she wouldn’t know how to handle that. Even with the three girls she had, she couldn’t manage anything. If only Amma didn’t fuss so much about being with them, both his father’s plan and his plans were to ask them to continue to stay with them. But when she served coffee to everyone in the morning, Amma would make Paati’s alone very watery. She would tell her there was no kuzhambu left and serve her only rasam. ‘As if we alone are buried in wealth here,’ she would mutter under her breath, just loud enough for Paati to hear. Even worse was when she grumbled to the neighbours who lived next door or across from them, while Paati was within earshot.
‘They have three sons, why should we alone take care of them? We went to help them and now we are bearing the burden. It’s like taking a lizard that was stuck on a fence and putting it on our laps to protect it. What will it do but bite? Why not amble over to the older son’s house? But, she’s no fool like me, that daughter-in-law. She would have stated it cut and dried to them not to dare come by her place right in the beginning!’
‘And here we have a wretched dog for a husband. Does he ever listen to a word of what I say? No matter what it is, what he says is always right. If he wants, let him take his father and mother with him and celebrate them. Who is saying no to that? Why do I have to when I don’t want to?’
‘The old man and old woman have a thousand complaints—the food is not good, the saaru is not good. Like they are giving me cartloads of money that I should cook with any care to feed them.’
All these words reached Paati’s ears time and again. But she kept her mouth shut. She must have figured a way out of all this when she summoned her oldest son to come by.
When Periappa and the boy reached Shaktivel’s house, Shaktivel had not even woken up. A little beyond the back side of the Kudiyaan valavu was the Aalkudi valavu. The long huts sat like ducks in a row. Naked children ran around with their bellies sticking out. Women sat along the pathway with their hair spread out. ‘It is but a rotten fate of mine that I have to come seeking him like this,’ murmured Periappa as he followed him. He walked ahead and called out for Shaktivel. Shaktivel was one class ahead of him when he was studying in Thenur. Shaktivel came out rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t open his eyes to the bright daylight. He kept rubbing his eyes and trying to open them. It took him a while to comprehend who had come looking for him.
‘Why, the day dawned a long while ago and it is afternoon now and yet our sire here is still unable to open his eyes, is it?’
‘No, Ayya . . .’
As soon as he realized that it was Periappa who was standing there, he untied the folded portion of the lungi to cover his legs and straightened it.
‘Why haven’t you come to the loom the past two days, da?’
‘I had gone to Marakkur, to my Atthai’s place, Ayya.’
‘What festival is going on there that you decided to go? Loafing around without coming to work . . . who will run the loom that is under your responsibility? At least you could have informed me that you weren’t going to come for two days?’
‘I left in a hurry, Ayya.’
‘Look here, you either come to work regularly, or you leave. I will find someone else to do the work. Don’t try all these tricks with me. This is what happens when I invite lads who loaf around with goats in the farmlands and give them a salaried job at the loom.’
Shaktivel stood looking down. Raman came by just then from somewhere.
‘Salutations, Saami.’
‘Mmm . . . has your lad grown beyond your control? And you don’t give him any advice?’
‘Where, Ayya, he was roaming about here saying he wasn’t feeling well. He doesn’t pay any heed to what I tell him. He brushes me off if I try.’
‘He says he was at his Atthai’s place. You say he was roaming about here. What is going on? Who are the father and son trying to deceive? You are all getting more supercilious by the day.’
‘No, Ayya! He is a young lad. Please instruct him to come to work.’
‘You had asked for a thousand for your daughter’s wedding . . . did you get it?’
‘Only you can help with that, Saami. I will kick this useless lad over to work. You know how to give generously, Saami.’
‘If he is going to be irresponsible like this, how can I give anything? I will give the money. The father and the son will blow it away and sleep in pleasure. And I will be the one to stand outside your house and beg like a dog for the money.’
‘No, no, Saami. He will come to work properly from now on.’
‘Mm. Let me see. If he comes properly I will give the money. And I can deduct the money every week from his wages. But he must come to work.’
‘He will.’
‘And you, why are you standing there with a sneaky look on your face? Will you come regularly?’
‘I will come from today, Ayya.’
‘Better get there in time for the night shift.’
Seeing him along with his Periappa must have made Shaktivel a little uncomfortable. He went into his house right after. He used to study really well. His handwriting was perfect, like print. If something had to be written on the school blackboard, Padma teacher would always ask Shaktivel to write it. He had stopped going to school after fifth standard to work in the farmlands for three or four years. Now, he had switched to working at the loom.
Seeing Periappa, the Aalkudi valavu folks removed their towels from their shoulders, held them under their arms and bowed to salute him humbly. ‘Salutations . . . salutations, Saami.’ ‘Mm,’ he acknowledged them as he pushed on his cycle pedal. The boy was seated on the carrier. The people from this valavu were increasingly less involved in farming. They had left jobs in farms to work in the town. People like Periappa had no choice but to seek help from them. Two mills were being built near Marakkur. Once those opened, the lands would lie empty with no one to work on them.
Amma was cooling her coffee when they returned. Thatha was seated on his cot. Appa was sitting on the interior plinth and Paati on the exterior plinth. Periappa sat himself next to Appa. The boy went into the house.
‘Was he there?’
‘Yes, yes. I’m unable to deal with the trouble of putting these sorts of lads to work. But what other choice do I have? If I don’t use these lads, there’s no one else available. All the weaver fellows have set up two or three looms in their own homes. Or they have their own workshops that they go to.’
‘Somehow compromise and make it work. This is not cultivation that if you miss one planting season you have to wait until the next. With businesses involving iron, you have to work with the others, or else won’t it affect your capital?’
Just then, Amma handed out coffee to everyone, interrupting Thatha, or so it seemed. ‘Why did you ask me to come back here, Amma?’ Periappa asked as he sipped his coffee.
‘Mm . . . to chop onions for dinner! What the hell are you all thinking? At first you abandoned us in some pit. That area has now gone to the heavens. Now give us, the two lives, some options for a livelihood and then leave.’
‘What can I say? You are both earning. You share that. Why don’t you continue to stay in this Thambi’s house?’
As soon as she heard that, Amma rushed from the veranda without even paying heed to her leg slipping on the way and hissed.
‘What are you saying? Are we the only ones enjoying the older man’s property? What about the two of you? Is he the only son they have that he needs to keep them here the entire time and feed them? Or are they blind? Or maimed?’
Periappa answered without missing a beat.
‘Okay then, should we feed them for a month each?’
Now Paati’s pride was pricked.
‘The two of us can feed ourselves as long as we can use our hands and legs. Do you think we want to eat the leftovers that your wives will feed us? Get lost! Isn’t this like the story of how everyone is barely alive after the house burnt down and the village gossip decides to come seeking a bride just then?’
‘Aiyyo . . . aiyyo . . . this old lady is making up all these tales. How many days did I feed her my leftovers? I do all this and I’m still the sinner. Will she ever prosper!’
Amma stuffed her mouth with her hands and pretended to cry as she yelled. Paati tightened her face.
‘Who accused you of anything now? I said it in general. But look at how loud you get referring to me as “old woman” over and over again.’
Two or three people gathered on the neighbour’s plinth and peeped in to see what was going on. And Veerakka, who lived across from them, pretended to keep working as if she was paying no attention to all this.
‘Okay, okay, let it be. Now let’s be practical. I don’t have a problem with them staying here. But they won’t be okay continuing like this. That’s why we need to find another way to make this work,’ Appa said, addressing everyone there. No one said anything to that for a while.
‘Looks like no one agrees with me. Then you come up with a plan.’
