The Azure of Solicitude :: Chapter XIII

THE AZURE OF SOLICITUDE
A Novel by
Joy J. Kaimaparamban
http://novel.bizhat.com
email: kaimaparamban@hotmail.com
Contact Address:
East of Vayalar Ramavarma Memorial G.H.S., Vayalar Post, Cherthala, Alappuzha District, Kerala State, S.INDIA - 688 536

WANTED PUBLISHERS

TWENTY THREE
LOSS OF A BLACK VENUS It grew up into a chick of a raven with strong and big black, brilliant and glittering eyes, with a bloating body of charcoal colour. It was draped in black feathers. A black beauty, Moly supposed it to be a female and named it as Monka.
‘Monka.’
With some grasshoppers collected from the green grass on hand, Moly called it.
The chick was inside the coconut leaf rib cage that hung in front of the house.
‘Caw. . . Caw. . .’
The cage was open. Monka came out of the cage and sat on her arm. Moly put the insects into its mouth watching the eyes in which shone depthless affection. Affection flowed into Moly’s soul. A two-legged creature to love another two-legged creature, she thought.
She asked it: ‘Do you want more?’
‘Caw.’
She knew it wanted more.
‘I shall give you rice now. Then I can go and dig out some earthworms. What do you say?’
‘Caw.’
She always understands me, Moly whispered.
After giving it some rice on a small pan, she said: ‘Now for the earthworms.’
It did not respond as it was fully immersed in eating the rice.
Moly laughed and said: ‘You can’t hear when you eat, Monka, can you?’
She searched in wet soil for earthworms by removing the upper layer of soil with a coconut rib. The sight of the earthworms brought to her the memories of Uthuppu. Thoughts squiggled in her mind. He had fed a lot of fish with earthworms. At last death fished for him. She silently wept for him.
Then her thoughts slipped on to his brother.
I loved Eappachan very much. I still love him.
She did not wish to blame him for what he had done. I too desired a go. Otherwise I would not have approached him at midnight in the name of fulfilling his ambition, she thought. But when I informed him of my trouble, why didn’t he respond? Like a frightened moor-fowl he hid himself in his hole.
The raven-chick came out of the house and sat beside her. It watched the struggling worms under the coconut rib without going gluttonous.
‘Good chap,’ she smiled at it.
‘What’re you doing?’
She heard a familiar voice.
The visitor came nearer.
‘Come on Moly, enough of earthworms,’ Martha said.
It was her sister Martha.
Moly, indifferent, continued with the work.
‘Throw away the crow first. Then only some good will come to you,’ the angry Martha said.
‘You want me to throw away my chick?’ it was an outburst.
Taken aback, Martha fell into a fool’s muteness, which made her a wood stump.
In Moly’s world, there were only two things now, a chick without a mother and a mother that had lost a chick.
‘Moly,’ Martha said in a cool voice.
Moly looked at her sister as if from a state of penitence. She tried to smile.
‘Chechi, have you come alone?’
‘Ya.’
Moly got up picking up the black-child. In the other hand she carried the wriggling earthworms.
‘Why didn’t he come with you?’ Moly asked.
‘He has no leave left.’
After a pause Martha murmured into Moly’s ear: ‘A friend of Purushanchettan, a bank employee, says he has revealed something to him.’
‘What’s it?’
‘He says our Achcha has a bank deposit.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t you know of it?’
‘No.’
‘It’s astonishing.’
‘In fact I know nothing of it.’
‘It’s a rather big amount. A man like our Achcha is not supposed to save such an amount.’
‘How much?’
The reply shocked Moly.
‘Indecent rumours have spread.’
‘Indecent rumours?’
‘Ya. I don’t know what. Purushanchettan says so.’
‘What does he say?’
‘That I can’t say to your face, Moly.’
‘Let it be anything. I don’t care.’
‘You don’t fear rumours?’
‘No. Anybody can say anything. Perhaps he is in need of some money now.’
‘Moly.’
‘Who’s the heroine of your story? I or someone else?’
‘Don’t forget that it is very easy for a girl to earn a bad name. For boys, it is ok. Any rumour puts feathers on their crowns. They wash their hands and feet well after getting into any dirt. But girls are finished if they slip into it once. Don’t you know it?’
‘I don’t think so. Grass cutter Moni is still alive. I have heard she was seduced when she was in her teens. She didn’t kill herself, did she?’
‘Moly. What happened to you? Have you gone insane? Tell me, who the devil has spoiled you.’
‘Nobody has spoiled me.’
‘Otherwise, how did Achcha get a big amount?’
‘If you want to know, ask him.’
‘You’ve suddenly changed, Moly.’
‘Everything has changed. See how much has changed in our eyot. Where are the thickets and the Anjeli tree? All have disappeared. In the place of the thicket a building is coming up. Can’t you see it?’
As if witnessing a miracle, Martha stood motionless. Moly, like a magician, was making unreal things real.
‘Who has put these words into your mouth?’ Martha asked.
Moly simply smiled.
‘I heard Kuriammamothalalan has bought half of the eyot,’ Martha said. She added: ‘He is making a new building here. He has a big bungalow already. For whom is this building being made?’
‘May be for his daughter.’
‘Is she going to reside here? At this dirty place?’
Moly smiled again.
Dirty place.
Martha got in the house.
Thanka was braiding a white mat. ‘Come on Martha.’
She got up and waited to see whether her son-in-law was in tow.
‘He hasn’t come.’ Martha said.
‘You travelled alone?’
‘An old lady of our neighbourhood accompanied me up to Kuriamuttom town.’
‘Thank god. And why a sudden visit?’
‘Why Amma? Coming home is not a crime. Is it?’
‘Of course not. You are most welcome any time.’
But Moly knew that there must be a reason.
After lunch, Martha left. Moly was whiling away her time with her raven chick. She saw Martha’s look of disdain. She seemed to be ignoring her. Moly had lost her sensitiveness. And there was no longer any hearty relationship between them.
She did not want to know why she had come. She did not ask her parents even when she heard them discuss the matter. The solid stuff within her had slipped off from her. Only the shell remained. She had suddenly become emotionless. But she still loved Eappan.
‘Our child has changed a lot,’ she heard Kunjeppu saying.
‘Ya. Martha too told me so,’ Thanka replied. After a pause Thanka said: ‘As you say, not even a paisa of that money is to be spent now. She won’t come again that soon.’
‘What about my gimmick?’
‘Excellent. She seems to be convinced that the money Mothalalan gave is a loan, given on the surety of our land and house. And it is meant to meet the expenses of Moly’s marriage.’
Moly’s marriage, Moly thought.
She repeated it with rage and sorrow.
‘No. Don’t look like that Molei. We told Martha so to get rid of her.’
‘Did you now?’
‘But remember one thing. As long as we are alive, we have to look after you. Afterwards who’ll help you?’ Kunjeppu asked.
‘I’ve always obeyed you. But don’t try to compel me any more.’
After a pause Thanka asked in a whisper: ‘There is something strange about what Kuriammamothalalan did in our case. I have been thinking hard but couldn’t understand.’
‘Strange? What do you mean?’
‘Why should he pay us compensation for our daughter getting spoiled? None of his relatives has had anything to do with it.’
Silence spread.

* * * * * * *

The marriage of Gita with Eappan was a grand affair. The ceremony was held in the Kuriamuttom Church because, Kuriamma and Eappan belonged to that Parish. As it was very distant, invitees from the eyot and Achankara used to go to the nearest Church. In fact Achankara Church was of Latin Catholics, who were in a majority and Syrian Catholics belonged to the Kuriamuttom Church. Kuriamma donated a substantia amount to the Kuriamuttom Church in connection with the marriage.
While Eappan came before the bride Gita in order to tie the wedding string round her neck he saw Moly standing just behind his bride.
Eappan did not expect Moly in the Church. Though her family had been invited, he thought only Kunjeppu and Thanka would attend.
After nuptials Eappan and Gita came to the new house. Both were in a dull mood, silent too. Eappan thought of Uthuppu who was blamed after his death for a crime he didn’t commit.
‘Eappacha.’
‘Hm.’
‘What on earth are you worrying yourself about?’
He looked at her. What was I thinking?
‘Nothing, Gita.’
‘Not mere Gita. My sweet honey Gita.’
He smiled, ‘sweet honey,’ he said.
She was pleased.
‘Who painted the pictures on these walls?’ he asked.
‘Anna aunty.’
‘Anna aunty?’
‘Ya. First wife of Appa.’
‘I see.’
‘Appa loves these pictures very much. He keeps a lot more pictures done by her. She was a born painter.’
‘Yes. One can guess as much from the work.’
‘Very beautiful. Aren’t they?’
‘Ya.’
‘That’s enough for now. I will tell you more about her later.’
‘Okay.’
‘Did you’ve loved anyone else?’
‘What? No!’
‘But your brother did. It led him to death.’
Eappan suddenly went stiff.
‘What happened to you?’
‘Please don’t bring tragic event to the bedroom, Gita.’
‘Sorry. Did it hurt you?’
Opening the suitcase presented by Kuriamma in connection with their marriage, Gita took out some papers. She hoped those would brighten up Eappan’s mind. She felt very sorry for having brought in an unpleasant subject.
‘See this.’
‘What’s it?’
‘The papers showing that we are the heirs of this house and the land around it.’
‘Registered documents?’
‘Ya. And he has given us half of the land at Achankara.’
‘Why show me these things now? I didn’t ask for any.’
‘Eappacha.’
She put the papers back.
‘What?’
‘What’s eating you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No. Don’t tell me lies. Usually people become pleasant when they get what they wanted.’
He lay on the bed. He felt as if it was a sheet full of prickles with their sharp tips pointing upwards.
‘Eappacha,’ she lay close to him.
‘Yes, Gita?’
‘Tell me. What happened to you? Shall I get you a glass of milk?’
He saw the glass on a teapoy. Getting up she took it and came back to him and sat on a chair offering the drink.
‘Take half and give me the rest,’ she smiled.
He sipped a little of the sweet milk, symbol of a good beginning. But he took only very little and gave her the glass.
‘Why no more than a sip?’
‘It’ll do.’
‘Take half.’
‘No. It’s enough. I don’t like super sweetness.’
‘Okay.’
She drank it in full at one go.
‘I’m switching off the lights.’
She went to the switches.
‘Okay. Let’s sleep,’ he replied.
But they could not sleep.
‘Gita.’
‘What?’
‘Are you asleep?’
‘I am wide awake.’
‘Why?’
‘Why don’t you sleep?’
She asked in the dark.
He felt the prickles of wild-pineapple leaves. Moly was there. He smelt her body. He thought of her sweet lips and bosoms, her smooth abdomen and loin, her golden cincture.
‘Eappacha.’
‘What?’
‘What’re you thinking?’
‘Nothing.’
She did not believe him.
‘Don’t tell me lies.’
He sits on a branch of the gamboge tree full of ripe fruits. His sisters and Moly stand beneath expecting fruits. Then he falls into a half dark night. His eyes focuses on Moly who is clad in a bath towel. She stands knee-deep in the lake, taking bath. Her nipples glistens.
‘What are you doing Eappacha?’ she asks.
‘Why don’t you cover your small treasures?’
‘No. Take your hands off. I don’t like such doings.’
‘Ok.’
‘He thought of another night he had spent with Moly.
‘Eappacha. . .’ he heard Gita calling, impatient. ‘Tell me, what happened to you?’ She demanded.
I lived in a house of poverty so far, a place where not even primary amenities existed. The walls were streaked with channels of leakage. In summer the sun peeped through the holes of the thatch. The full moon decorated the broken floor with silver coins. Almost on all days there was nothing but plain rice to eat. On some days it was just tapioca and shell fish.
Even if one forgets all that, what about a fragile heart?
‘Eappacha, ’ Gita called.
He kept silent.
The silence grew intolerable. He wanted to contract into nothing. Like a soiled creature he lay. The closed door and the sealed windows made sounds of the world outside inaccessable. He longed for the shrill sound of a cricket.
Gita is in a mood of great expectations, he thought.
Mother used to say: ‘Moneyless men are dead men.’ But no amount of money could enliven a dead man, Eappan now discovered.
When his dreams are shattered a man is dead. His body lives, but soul is gone. Nothing would revive him. I know now.
Gita could not sleep. Assuming that Eappan had slept she lay awake hating to maintain body contact with someone mentally so far away from her. If he had compelled she would have yielded. But she did not want to take initiative.
Eappan is sitting on the gamboge tree in the evening. It is drizzling. He sees Moly beneath with the bath towel around her. A black Venus she is.
He collects gamboge fruits and throws them, taking aim at her breast. Each fruit shatters and spills around Moly laughing aloud, ridiculing his markmanship. Unexpectedly a fire ball with a harsh sound falls upon Moly. She is broken to pieces.
He climbs down fast and searches for the relics of the statue. He can not find a single piece. He wants to cry aloud but can not as his throat has gone dry.

***