The Dark Hole
Vandazhi-A humble village in the Palakkad district of Kerala is devastatingly beautiful with her lovely green fields and the ever flowing Malampuzha river. The very entry of the village is so simple with an ordinary bus stop lending way to a narrow dark path leading to open up a world of paradise is an emotion. I wonder at the nature’s aroma of freshly grown paddy fields filling the entire expanse is sure to bring a smile on anyone's face. Next is the feast for the eyes, with all the greenery expanding in all the directions one can witness a flood of paddy fields in a crazy insane shade. Little up faraway is the village seated proudly on the dazzling green carpets and just below the cotton candied sky. On keeping a barefoot on those naturally carved out mossy steps will say, welcome to mother’s lap! The thoughts were oozing out to paint memories.
It was a day full of energy and enthusiasm as it was an unexpected holiday for us. Yes, I remember so.. We were about 7 to 8 children used to gather around the giant banyan tree during our vacations and all the evenings after school. The day was so fantastic that even the sun was quite absorbed his scorching rays which transformed our day into a most fabulous one. We were about to appear for our half yearly exams for our 3rd grade and some of our friends for 4th or 5th grades. We all had a serious meeting under the busy banyan tree where all the birds would incessantly chatter. The agenda of the meeting was whether to play hide and seek or a run and catch... I had always supported hide and seek since it gave me lesser tension and not like the latter, for which I would have to sweat more. Not only that, if I got to be the seeker, then the game would last for hours. Moreover, everyone was so confident of my sprinting efficacy. During those moments too, I would seriously be looking for some trees to keep myself in the hiding until the catch of the first prey reaches my ears. I then slowly peep my head out for a safe climate and I didn’t have any botheration for falling as the 2nd one because the first one gets the responsibility of a seeker.
The shrewd chingi wanted it to be a run and catch, was a balawadi child. It is where the kids used to go before their 1st grades, what we call it as kinder garten today. I always had doubted what would this Chingi eat. His sprinting ability is such, that everyone would be amazed at his flash like movement.
“Let’s play run and catch game etta, said chingi in a judgmental tone.”
“Not at all Chingi, if u fall down u will get hurt; hide and seek is safe for you,” I said meekly..
‘’I am sure that I wouldn’t fall; it is you the one who always hurt your knees chechi, a reply from him made me feel awkward.’’
Without raising my head I could infer the instant chuckle appeared in all the faces. There was an immediate silence overwhelmed the crowd.
“Okay, then we will play run and catch for our little chingi first, then we shall move to hide and seek as Suja prefers” the words came out softly but sternly from the senior most brother,‘Pattar Kumaretta’.
That’s how we called him, I still don’t remember who kept him such a name. In Malayalam, pattar refers to Brahmin community, may be to differentiate him from another kumar etta, an elder brother of chingi. We, always had a great respect for pattar kumar etta, not only for his seniority over us, but the way he treated others was lauding, in contrast to the children of his age. He was in 7th grade then. We spend our weekends with him, for he would escort us towards the small hills nearby the jungle. He surprises us with his homemade snacks during our venture. He would instruct us like a friendly captain and tells some adventurous stories in a captivating manner.
There was not even a single word against his final verdict.
The active moments lasted for an hour and the screeching of the tree residents reminded us of the time to dissolve. Everyone ran back to their homeward directions. That was even not the end of our daily meeting, we, the neighbouring friends would again meet in the front yard of our house, carrying our own food and enjoy our humble food kanji.(kangji – rice porridge). We would start eating only after everyone reaches the spot. No one has taught us such table manners but it came as a blessing of friendship.
The night was as bright as the day; all the tall coconut trees and the front yard shrubs lit in the moonlight, glistened in the cool bright light from the above. The cool breeze of December hypnotised me with a mint flavor, dipped in the scent of wild jasmine. We were waiting for PK etta, he would join us a bit late, as his house was little away from ours, literally amidst the long and wide expanse of the green paddy fields. We would make use of this passive time to gossip the elders, those who pass comments at us, and pass new amendments in the village. Vinu, the next door senior etta was making funny faces of our neighbourhood strict Mutthi, (Grandma) and everyone of us bursted into laughter. He was reminding us of the day, of her entry, when we were about a pluck a mango from her garden. We all did have varieties of mango trees in our own premises but plucking and tasting one from hers gave a kind of pride and inexplicable satisfaction. But until today no one dares to breakinto her premises as she was one of the nightmares of the village. Even elders slip away when she comes into scene.
My mom came from nowhere and shouted at us for our behavior while eating.
‘Won’t you all shut your mouth and eat?’
This was enough to keep us quiet for a moment, but we looked into each other’s eyes and asked in such a way that “How’s that even possible?
Again there exploded a bigger laughter than the previous one. To our surprise my mom had already left for her dinner with other members of the family. The clinging sound conveyed the closing down of the kitchen.
Until now we couldn’t find PK etta, and the next-door Kumar etta said, He was complaining of a headache from the evening, “I think he wouldn’t join us for today’s Dinner. Let’s eat fast, as it is already late and the clock stroke 7.”
Usually we hit our beds at that time. A village without electricity could be awake until the dark covers up the sky. Moreover, it would be difficult for us to cross the wild paddy fields in the dark. The village receives its last bus at 7.00pm sharp. No one would dare to step out of the village after dusk, as it would transform into a world of reptiles.
I couldn’t sleep peacefully as the howling of the wolves heard from the westward forest throughout the night. I was imagining a bedtime story around these creatures, the king of the forest is not letting them eat; so they were moving around the forest looking for something to eat. I was scared at the thought of, what if these creatures enter into our village? I screamed in half asleep as the sudden knocking at the door appeared as if a pack of wolves standing in our doorstep and knocking in the guise of a human. When I opened my eyes I saw my uncle entering the house saying, why do these creatures ripping their throats out? There is an old adage , the continuous howling is a bad omen; these guys can see the beings of the other world. Don’t know what’s gonna happen.” This was enough to keep me awake throughout the night. I had lost my sleep completely after listening to this conversation.
The clear rays of sun penetrated through the window gap woke me up. I couldn’t believe that I had slept even after eavesdropping the elders. I wanted to affirm it with my mom, about the happenings of the previous night and how does the old belief about the howling of the wolf works and so on.
“Amma…ma…Where is she disappeared in the morning?
Where’s my Coffee?”The coffee usually awaits me on the table was missing! Even the kitchen showed an unusual silence gave me a sudden adrenaline rush throughout my body. I ran around the house for someone to be seen, but to my shock none of my family members could be spotted. Vinu, the next door etta saw me roaming unstable, through the marigold laden fence. He looked lost and dull which I had never seen before. He dragged himself to the fence and hued me to come near him and I did so. I could see his swollen eyes were preparing to convey me something, but he broke down on seeing me and uttered,
He’s gone..He’s gone .. our pattar kumaretta is no more with us. He had a severe headache and fever yesterday. The doctor said it was a brain fever and he was brought in a critical condition.
I couldn’t sense anything that he uttered. I just stood like a stone. I didn’t know how could that happen to him?
I didn’t believe that he’s dead. He the one who does all the puja practices in the powerful Ayyappan Temple. He the one who used to act as Lord Ayyappa himself in the dramas played in the temple premises. He sits gaily on the back of the tiger by wielding a bow and arrow in his hands. I couldn’t differentiate god Ayyappa and PK etta as two other entities.
How could something happen to God himself?
What my Grandma said everything about God, good deeds breed blessings and such philosophies were something superfluous?
The whole world of belief shattered in front of me. Unable to believe those words of Vinu etta, I ran towards the paddy-fields for knowing the truth.
Not even a few yards crossed, I could clearly hear the sobbing of his mother,” Ayyappa, Ayyappa .”.
The whole family being the devotees of Ayyappan, she screamed ,“you cheated on us… “ Ayyappa…..In a louder tone..
I didn’t have enough strength to go forward in that direction. Losing all my strength, I drifted back home and threw myself in the front porch. Within few hours, my mom and other family members reached home with a swollen face. Nothing reached my ears other than what Vinu etta uttered in the morning.
The village was in a comeplete silence for the next 2 days.
Everyone started doing their routine after the bereaval, and my mom was hurrying me up for the school.
“What’s on your mind, standing like a sloth? Don’t you have any idea of going to school? I was wondering at people who have started back to normalcy, as if Pketta had come back to life. Me, the devastated being found it difficult even to put on my dress and to step ahead in the direction of school. Me along with Vinu and kumar etta started our way to school. Our school was just 2 km away , while crossing the paddy fields we all together turned to see if PK etta joining us miraculously. He used to guide us while crossing the channels, he looks back, until the last one (me) is safely crossed. I could not control the ball of pain pressuring me for the past two days.
“Kumar ettaaaa… I screamed and sat down on the wet ridges of the paddy fields and broke down inconsolably. The duo joined me in the sobbing, kumar etta hugged me tight and consoled me for his own consolation by saying “If we pray to god everyday he will be melted and he will give back our PK etta”.
From the next day on, I brought back all my strength to become spiritual and participated in the mantra chantings of Ayyappan temple every evening. I sacrificed my daily playtime into a valuable one and started waiting for our PK etta with an inquisitive mind.
