Karuthamma drifted into another stream of thought. A deep stream. She was leaving. She had said her goodbyes to everyone and everything she knew. She was prepared to leave. But she hadn’t said her farewell to the moon on that shore; to the sea washed in moonlight; to the sweet song of the moon. She hadn’t bid adieu to that messenger of the moon god.
It could happen that the song might not be sung again tomorrow or the night after or till the day she left this shore. And that night the singer’s throat might finally crack. What if he stopped singing? And thus the moon on that shore would be muted in sorrow.
Yet another impulse overwhelmed her. Never again would she be able to merge with the moonlight or the song. Perhaps this was her last chance. Karuthamma couldn’t let it pass. Once more she sought the shadows of the beached boat on the sands. Once more she sought a joy that was to be denied to her forever.
She ran on the shore as a child. It was on that shore she became a maiden and fell in love. And now she was to be the chaste wife of a fisherman who braved winds, squalls and treacherous waves when he went out to sea to fish. It was an important phase of life she was stepping into. The life that lay ahead would be weighed with gravity, substance and meaning. All she had left were these last few days of fecklessness.
But Karuthamma also knew fear. She didn’t trust herself. She would succumb. Be tainted. Until then she had never feared this of herself.
She would beseech him to never sing again. That he shouldn’t move the moon on that shore so. She had so much to say to Pareekutty. Many words of regret to utter.
Karuthamma stood up. She opened the door softly. Outside, the world was bathed in moonlight. She stepped out!
She walked through the long shadows of the coconut palms to the shore.
Suddenly the song paused. He had propitiated his goddess to appear before him with his relentless singing. For a moment he couldn’t believe his eyes. He asked, ‘Karuthamma, are you leaving?’
What else could he ask of her?
‘Once Karuthamma leaves … will Karuthamma ever think of me?’ It was a sincere query.
‘Even if you don’t think of me, I will sit on this shore and sing. Even when I am an old man with no teeth, I will continue to sing.’
Karuthamma had something to tell him. ‘My Bossman, you must marry a good girl, have many children, become a big trader and live happily.’
Pareekutty didn’t speak.
Karuthamma continued, ‘My Bossman, you must forget our childhood days. Of the times we played on this shore.’
Pareekutty wouldn’t still speak. And Karuthamma went on, ‘That would be best for my Bossman and me.’
Karuthamma wouldn’t pause. ‘We’ll pay back the money we took from you before I leave. My Bossman, I want you to do well…’ She couldn’t speak thereafter. She wished to tell him she would pray for him. But she wasn’t sure if she could. A fisherwoman was allowed to pray for only one man’s welfare. The man she was entrusted to. Her tradition wouldn’t allow her to pray for another man. So how could she say that to him? But of its own volition, words tripped off her tongue.
‘I will think of you every day, my Bossman.’
‘Oh, but why? You mustn’t.’
There was silence for a while. However, it was a silence filled with unspoken words.
A night bird rose off a coconut palm and flew across the moon as if to suggest that it had witnessed the scene. A little farther on the sands, a dog stood watching them. And thus there were two witnesses.
Pareekutty asked, ‘All of it is over, isn’t it? The games we played, the shells we picked on this shore.’ He sighed heavily and continued, ‘And so a period in our lives comes to an end!’
Karuthamma agreed. Pareekutty said, ‘I will be alone on this shore.’
Those words pierced through Karuthamma. He continued to speak, ‘I thought Karuthamma wouldn’t say goodbye to me.’
He finished abruptly, ‘But I don’t have any complaints. If Karuthamma went away without telling me, I would be sad. But I won’t ever complain. How can I ever criticize my Karuthamma?’
Karuthamma hid her face with her palm and wept into it. Pareekutty sensed it.
‘Why are you crying, Karuthamma? Palani is a good man, a capable man.’
In a choking voice he continued, ‘All will be well, Karuthamma. You will be blessed.’
She couldn’t bear it any longer. She said, ‘My Bossman, you mustn’t stab a corpse so.’
Pareekutty didn’t fathom what she meant. He was astounded at the fact that he had said something to hurt her. But what had he said?
With a deep sorrow she said, ‘But, my Bossman, you never liked me.’
‘How can you say that, Karuthamma?’
He swore that his greatest desire was to see her well. He said, ‘I will sit here and sing. Sing loudly.’
She replied, ‘I will listen to your song even if I am far away on the shores of Trikunnapuzha.’
‘I will continue to sing till my throat cracks and I die.’
‘And I too will die of a broken heart.’
‘And then there will be two souls flittering in the moonlight on this shore.’
‘Yes,’ Pareekutty said.
Then they didn’t speak.
In silence, she walked towards the east. That was how she took leave of him. He continued to watch her. And that was how he bid her farewell.
So they parted.
Ten
Chakki wanted to make something of the ceremony. All the neighbours presumed it would be a wedding with pomp and splendour. Chembankunju had money and Karuthamma was the oldest girl. So the wedding would have to be a big affair.
However, Chembankunju didn’t want any of that. He had had to spend money on buying Karuthamma some gold jewellery. He said he didn’t have any money left to splurge on a lavish wedding. Yet there was no way he could curb the expenses.
Chakki and Chembankunju quarrelled about this. And it was Karuthamma who had to intervene and make peace between the two. It hurt her no end that she was the cause of their everyday squabbles.
All she wanted was to get past that day. She was a nuisance to so many people! Everyone associated with her seemed to be hurting. Who else was she going to bring trouble to? Who else would she end up hurting? she asked herself.
They had to invite the Shore Master. Only then could the rituals begin. Chembankunju made an offering of betel leaves, tobacco and some cash to the Shore Master and sought his permission. The Shore Master was delighted and promised to arrive early for the wedding.
The wedding day. It wasn’t such a big event. Nevertheless, it had somehow exceeded Chembankunju’s planning and expectations.
The Shore Master reached there early. There were about fifteen people from Trikunnapuzha. There were no women in that group. Palani had no female relations to take Karuthamma home. The women gathered there began to speculate about this. Everyone knew Palani was an orphan. But it hadn’t truly struck them what that meant until now when Palani arrived with a group of men and not a single woman. It was indeed a serious shortcoming. Chakki saw it as a failing too.
Nallapennu spoke up impulsively, ‘Couldn’t these fellows have at least asked a woman from the neighbourhood to have come along with them?’
Kalikunju agreed adding her two bit.
Kunjipennu asked, ‘How do you send a girl away with a group of men?’
Lakshmi said, ‘What else are we to do?’
Nallapennu was acerbic in her observation. ‘This is a new tradition indeed! There ought to be many women with the groom’s party to accompany the bride. That’s how it is done!’
Chakki heard titbits of the women’s gossip. Chakki too had thought on the same lines.
It was time to pay the bride price. The amount was to be fixed by the Shore Master. Only after that would the marriage ceremony begin. The Shore Master called Palani and his people. All of them stood in rapt attention. He said, ‘The sum is fixed for seventy-five rupees.’
&nb
sp; The groom’s party was astounded. They hadn’t expected such a large amount. Besides, they thought it was way too much. Only a netsman would usually be asked to pay as much.
For a while no one spoke. The head of the groom’s party spoke up courageously but in the most deferential of tones. ‘Father, you mustn’t think me rude but we too have come from a place with a Shore Master of our own. You could decide on the bride price and we are obliged to pay without any objection, but this…’
The Shore Master demanded, ‘Tell me … go on, tell me, what is it?’
Achuthan, that was the man’s name, said, ‘It is your right to tell us to pay the bride price, Father. But you should have consulted with the groom’s people first.’
The Shore Master had made a mistake in his calculations. But when it was pointed out to him, it drew forth his ire. He asked, ‘What is there to consult or discuss?’
Achuthan wouldn’t back off either. He wasn’t seeing a Shore Master for the first time. There was an illustrious Shore Master on his shore as well. Achuthan said, ‘Of course, it has to be discussed!’
‘So tell me, what is it?’
Achuthan retorted firmly, ‘Is it that you don’t want this wedding to take place?’
Achuthan had exceeded himself. The Shore Master snarled at the accusation.
Achuthan defended his point of view. How could the bride price be fixed unless someone had ascertained how much money the bridegroom had? How could the wedding take place under such circumstances? That was why he had said as much.
The Shore Master was contemptuous. ‘Are you such vagrant riff-raff?’
Even if he wasn’t their Shore Master, he was the Protector of this shore. So they quietly stomached his calling them riff-raff. They were obliged to do so. In fact, they would put up with more abuse if it came their way.
Nevertheless, Achuthan had something to say about that as well.
The Shore Master asked Chembankunju, ‘Chembankunju, are you marrying your daughter to a vagrant who doesn’t have seventy-five rupees of his own?’
The women gathered there approved of this. Each one of them had thought as much. They were all perturbed by the fact that a comely young girl from their shore was being married off to a man with neither a home nor a family. Chembankunju was to blame for this. And now when the Shore Master asked him this to his face, they were all pleased. Nobody else would have dared to do so.
Chembankunju stood silent.
Achuthan said, ‘That’s true. He’s a rootless vagabond. None of us is his kin. We are just from the same shore. That’s why we said you ought to have discussed the bride price.’
Achuthan began talking about Palani. The women felt sorry for Karuthamma. It was better to have drowned her at sea, the women whispered.
But the Shore Master was still adamant. He said, ‘All that’s fine. But is the bride price based on the boy’s financial status?’
Achuthan accepted that it wasn’t so. The Shore Master continued, ‘She is a good girl. If you want her, you have to pay the price worthy of her.’
One of the groom’s men muttered something. He didn’t like either what the Shore Master was saying or the way he said it. Unable to contain himself, he had found himself kvetching.
The Shore Master snapped at that impertinent man, ‘What are you whinging about?’
He didn’t say anything. The Shore Master demanded, ‘Say it, you…’
The man decided to speak his mind. Perhaps he had always meant to bring it up. Perhaps he had wanted the wedding to be stopped.
In a ringing voice, he challenged, ‘Please don’t tell us how good a girl she is!’
‘How dare you?’
‘Isn’t this wedding just meant to get rid of her from this shore? Just so this shore isn’t ruined. Let our shore be wiped out, that’s it, right? And despite all this, you want the boy to pay a bride price that is beyond what is paid usually. Wonderful, indeed!’
All of them were shaken. What was he insinuating?
Chakki fell down in a deep faint. Karuthamma gathered her mother in her arms. Her cries of ‘Oh my Ammachi’ sent everyone rushing in. Chakki lay unconscious.
Chembankunju ran around like a mad man. Was his wife about to die? The marriage party was breaking up.
Some of the people gathered asked that brazen man what he had meant. They accused him of slander. He shouldn’t have spoken as he did. But the man didn’t show any remorse. In fact, it made him even more belligerent.
‘Listen, I come to this shore. I know everything that goes on here.’
It was inevitable that everyone would assume that the girl had some sordid secret. But no one wished to know more about it then. All they wanted to do was shut him up. After all, they were away from home and on an unfamiliar shore.
Achuthan gritted his teeth and mumbled, ‘Will you shut up?’
Nallapennu and Kalikunju tended to Chakki. She opened her eyes. She coiled an arm around her daughter’s neck and moaned, ‘Oh my daughter!’ And slipped into a faint again.
The women consoled Karuthamma and attended to Chakki. When Chakki was a little better, Chembankunju called Palani and Achuthan over. He was prepared to give the seventy-five rupees. They should accept it from him and pay the bride price. Palani consented and so did Achuthan.
Thus, with the bride price Palani entered the wedding pandal. Everything quietened down a bit. No one thought any more of Pappu’s allegations.
The money was paid. As per custom the Shore Master took his share. The rest was given to Chembankunju. Despite all the kerfuffle, they had kept the appointed auspicious time. And so the first part of the wedding was complete.
Even though Chakki was propped up, she still felt dizzy. Suddenly she felt her vision cloud and her ears buzz.
The bride was brought to the pandal. One of the elders explained what was to be done. The thali was tied and new clothes were given. Palani’s palm was thrust into Karuthamma’s. Chembankunju thought he saw her stiffen. Then she pulled her hand back. It seemed that she hadn’t held Palani’s hand. All that had transpired was that his palm rested in hers briefly.
What was Karuthamma thinking of? What was she remembering? Who knows. She did everything she was asked to almost mechanically.
The women supported Chakki and brought her to the pandal. At the muhurtham, Chakki fainted again.
It was a bad omen, a few women said. Could anyone fault them for thinking so? Chakki surfaced again. She will be fine once she has rested enough, some people said.
It was time for the feast. Again there was a problem. Some women went away without eating. They were unsure of Palani’s caste and hence were reluctant to eat at the feast. Many of the groom’s party including the troublemaker Pappu left.
None of this bothered Chembankunju. But he fell at the Shore Master’s feet and pleaded for his intervention. Chakki was totally incapacitated. Karuthamma had never left home until then. And now she was to go all by herself to a strange place. And there were no women in the groom’s group. Given all this, was there some way they could prevent the girl from leaving home that day? Let Palani also not go. He could stay the night here as well. If Karuthamma left, Chembankunju’s home would fall apart. There wasn’t anyone to even wet the invalid’s lips.
Chembankunju was in a frenzy. The Shore Master sympathized with his plight and said, ‘What you say is right, Chembankunju, but how can we prevent them from taking the girl if they want to?’
Chembankunju said, ‘If Father himself insists, they will agree.’
The Shore Master smiled mirthlessly. ‘They are from Trikunnapuzha. An arrogant lot. Haven’t you seen it for yourself, Chembankunju?’
Chembankunju had no one else to turn to but the Shore Master. If she left, what was he to do? If the Shore Master was adamant, they would succumb.
The food was eaten and the betel leaves passed around. Achuthan said it was time to leave. Karuthamma continued to sit at her mother’s side. She wept ceaselessly. Chembankunju pretended to be
busy as he hustled and bustled around. It was time to leave. Achuthan spoke up again. When he said it for the third time, Chembankunju had to pay attention. He asked Achuthan, ‘Is it really necessary to take the girl back today itself?’
No one had expected such a query. Achuthan didn’t know what to say. The Shore Master waited for an answer though.
Achuthan asked, ‘What do you mean?’
‘What do I mean?’
‘After the wedding, how can the bride be left behind?’
The Shore Master knew he really didn’t have an argument. But he could use his authority to full effect. So he did, describing the state of that home. But they already knew that.
The Shore Master said, ‘All I am asking is for you to consider if you can let the girl be here till her mother can at least sit up.’
‘It is up to the boy to decide that,’ Achuthan said.
To add weight to his argument, the Shore Master brought up yet another matter. ‘You really can’t insist on taking the girl with you now.’
Achuthan demanded, ‘Why is that?’
‘Isn’t it customary that a woman be there to accompany the bride to her new home?’
Achuthan retorted brusquely, ‘Why marry your girl to a fellow who doesn’t even have a single female relative then?’
The Shore Master feigned anger. ‘Are you arguing with me?’
Achuthan retreated into silence. Now it was left to the groom to decide. Let him, Achuthan told himself.
The Shore Master hoped that Palani would be willing to make a concession.
Time sped. No one was willing to commit to anything. ‘It’s getting late,’ Achuthan said. ‘Let Palani stay on here,’ the Shore Master instructed. But no one responded to that either. Palani was the one who would have to decide now.
Achuthan told Palani, ‘Look here boy, what have you decided? We have to leave.’
Palani squirmed. He didn’t know what to say. He had heard all of what had been said. But he hadn’t been able to make up his mind. Was it because it was beyond him? Whatever it was, Palani didn’t seem to see it as an important problem. He was unmoved.
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