Chemmeen

by T. S. Translated by Nair, Anita Pillai

  She didn’t know how long she lay in that languorous submission. Young blood coursed hotly in those veins. The hungers were rapacious; dams had been burst through and a deluge followed, unrestrained.

  When she came to consciousness of the world around her, Karuthamma was bashful. It wasn’t just shyness but a fear too. A fear that sat upon her. She had revealed far too much, she feared. She didn’t have a clear picture. It was like a trance. An uninhibited blatant greed. How could any girl be so? What would her husband think of her?

  Karuthamma feared all of it had been wrong. All her secrets were out. He knew. Palani was a stranger. That he had made her his was true. But how could she have abandoned herself so in such a wanton fashion with a strange man even if he was her husband? What must he think of her? How could she have been so uncontrolled? She was a very demure woman. She worried every minute that there would be a life-destroying query soon. The question would be, ‘So have you played the field?’

  She could truthfully answer, ‘No.’ But would she be believed?

  How could she trust him? If she didn’t, it would be a crippling blow to life itself.

  Even before the question was asked, she wanted to ask for forgiveness. But what was she to say? That she didn’t know.

  Were all girls like this? Even if he was a stranger, would you become a reckless wild creature with your husband? She didn’t know.

  She thought uncertainly of this hunger that had come to her. She couldn’t accept that she was an ordinary girl. Once long long ago there had been a few such extraordinary women on her shore.

  A voice in Karuthamma spoke: You loved a man once. That is, when you thought about that man you knew a stirring of the soul, a great delight. Which meant you felt desire for him. And so when you found a man, you became this intemperate woman. You went mad. Other women are not like this.

  Was that love that had stirred her so?

  The question that Karuthamma feared wasn’t asked.

  Palani was going out. ‘What should I buy?’ Palani asked.

  She said, ‘You must buy what you can for the money you have.’ Then she detailed what was urgently required. That itself was a long list.

  When Karuthamma was alone at home, her thoughts reverted to Pareekutty. How would he be? He must be bereft. They hadn’t paid his money back either. Her mother was laid up. They might never pay it back. He was ruined on that front as well.

  She wasn’t able to erase thoughts about Pareekutty. Wasn’t that a sin? How could she, a wife, think of another man? Nevertheless, someone inside her said she wouldn’t be able to forget Pareekutty … ever. It was a nightmare that would haunt her for life!

  His song perhaps still resounded on that shore. Karuthamma felt restless. When and how would she find some peace? Perhaps she was destined to never know serenity.

  Palani came home with pots, pans and ladles. On the way, his friends had teased him. When he reached home Karuthamma found fault. The pot wasn’t good enough. It had hairline cracks. And that wasn’t the kind of pan required. The wife was declaring her competence. Her superior housewifely abilities. And Palani acknowledged that. He said, ‘How do I know what pots and pans to buy?’

  She laughed. It was all in jest.

  They didn’t sleep at all that night. They had so much to say to each other! So much was said and they still couldn’t stop. Their expectations from life was what they talked about. And during the course of it, she asked, ‘When my mother was laid up, why did you insist on bringing me away?’

  Karuthamma felt comfortable enough with him to ask him that. It was a question that troubled him. Nevertheless, Palani replied, ‘Is it befitting a man to leave his wife behind in her house after the wedding? It isn’t right!’

  She realized that he thought it an act of impropriety to leave her back in her home. Then Palani explained. The people who had gone with him were not happy for him to come away without her. No one liked that. So he had to say as much.

  With a trace of shyness Palani asked, ‘Were you willing to come with me?’

  She retorted instantly, ‘Yes, I was.’

  The reason behind that ‘yes’ stayed hidden.

  Then, Karuthamma remembered something important she had to discuss. About her father. ‘My father will not be there for us any more. That’s his nature! He won’t recognize me as his daughter any more.’

  Unruffled, he said, ‘Fine. If he thinks he doesn’t have a daughter, you must think you don’t have a father.’

  She couldn’t have received a greater oath of troth from him. He meant that even if she didn’t have her father, he was there for her.

  Palani continued, ‘Your father is an avaricious and peculiar man! And so also your Shore Master. He insulted us!’

  Palani’s self-esteem grew and found a voice. ‘Even if I have no one or nothing, I too am a son of the sea. All of this is my wealth too. What do I lack? I am like all other fishermen. But I have something else. I know my job. I can sail through any tide. And avoid the suck of any whirlpool. So there was no need to insult me as he did!’

  Karuthamma didn’t speak. She began to wish that she hadn’t brought up the matter. Palani was getting angry. He had no regard for her father at all. Not just her Shore Master, he would defy his Shore Master as well if needed.

  He asked, ‘Why would I humble myself? No need for that.’

  But Karuthamma still had a point to make. ‘My mother is a timid soul!’

  He didn’t respond to that. But his thoughts veered in another direction. ‘Let me tell you something. I am not going to your home till that man, your father, comes here first.’

  Like her father, her husband too had made a firm decision. Nothing would shake that either.

  Karuthamma voiced her thoughts: She had neither a father nor a mother now. She only had her husband. He must love her. She would be a responsible and dutiful wife.

  He listened.

  She had no one but him. She would endure anything and obey everything. All she wanted was to be loved.

  He didn’t ask of her that she love him back. Perhaps he had no need for that love. She too probably didn’t feel the need to make that declaration.

  That was a failing. On the one hand one person wanted to be loved. But the other person didn’t ask for the same. She had promised to be a good wife as was expected of her. But even if Palani hadn’t asked to be loved, shouldn’t she have said as much? But she didn’t. Did that mean that she wouldn’t love him? If Palani had asked that of her, perhaps she would have unconditionally offered him her love.

  And so that first night was spent with minor splintering and no major rifts. But they had arrived at a common consensus. To set up a home together.

  With a laugh, Karuthamma said, ‘I don’t have relatives or friends. I have neither a house nor family.’

  At the crack of light, the shore rang with calls and cries. It was time for Palani to go.

  Karuthamma had learnt a few norms of daily living. She had been taught as much before her marriage by the women of her neighbourhood. One of those lessons came to her mind.

  When he stepped out, she asked anxiously, ‘Are you going straight to the boat?’

  He didn’t understand what she meant.

  ‘Hmm … why?’

  Karuthamma didn’t know how to say it. She said, ‘People shouldn’t leave their homes like this…’

  ‘So how else are they to leave?’

  ‘People going to the sea must be clean and pure.’

  He stood there unable to comprehend. He asked, ‘What are you getting at?’

  Shamefaced, she said, ‘Why don’t you have a bath before you go?’

  She helped him bathe and then bathed herself.

  When Palani reached the boats, the Shore Master asked, ‘Did you have a bath, boy?’

  Twelve

  Karuthamma had been taught many lessons at her home. She knew how to bring prosperity into a house. She had seen her father and mother toil for it. In fact, her father was a s
hining example. She had seen how with much discipline and by curbing excessive expenditure he had kept aside money to buy a boat and nets.

  When Karuthamma was by herself, she pondered about her home. She had a role model to lead her on.

  She had sent Palani to work after ensuring that he had a bath and was clean enough. Nevertheless, until the boats returned, she was filled with an anxiety. That day, she didn’t stop with one and instead made two curries. She felt closer to him than she had the day before. And so she waited.

  There was a huge catch of sardines that day. They hadn’t seen anything like it in recent times. He got thirty rupees. As they were washing up after they had shaken the nets out and cleaned it up, Ayappan asked the group, ‘Shall we go to eat at Haripad?’

  None of them protested. They all had enough money. The sea mother had blessed them. So what was wrong in having a good time once in a while! Palani alone didn’t say a word.

  Veluthakunju asked, ‘Hey Palani, why are you so silent?’

  Aandikunju teased, ‘What are you saying? When he has a bride waiting for him with rice and curries, he would prefer to be at her side and eat there.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Kochayyappan demanded. It was natural for young people to feel that way. All of them in that group were married and had children.

  Velayudhan generalized about the state of marriage, ‘All of it is wonderful for the first four days! Then you won’t find any food at home and even if you do, it would be tasteless!’

  When all of them had washed up, Veluthakunju asked, ‘Palani, are you coming?’

  Palani said, ‘I am!’

  But he said it without really wanting to go.

  The group went to the road and took a bus to Haripad.

  Karuthamma waited for a long while. When Palani didn’t turn up, she went to the beach looking for him. All the boats were hauled onto the shore. Not even one boat was at sea. There wasn’t a single soul on the beach either.

  At that moment, Aandi’s fisherwoman Paru arrived there. She began to make small talk, ‘What is it, new bride? Why are you standing here staring at the sea?’

  Karuthamma flushed coyly. ‘Nothing. I was just looking at the sea.’

  Paru understood. ‘You are looking for your fisherman, aren’t you? All of them went away together to Haripad. They have money in their hands, child!’

  Pretty much the same would happen on Karuthamma’s shore as well. There they would all go to Alapuzha. That was the only difference. But Karuthamma hadn’t expected Palani to go that day.

  Karuthamma and Paru chatted for a while. Karuthamma was disturbed. She felt all of this ought to be changed. So much could have been accomplished at home if they had the money he would spend at Haripad. The thought rattled within Karuthamma.

  Paru said, ‘Anyway, when your fisherman returns from Haripad, you can be sure he’ll bring the new bride a beautiful length of cloth.’

  Karuthamma responded, ‘But chechi, we don’t even have a vessel to drink out of. We have just two pots!’

  Paru, who was older, said, ‘Who has more than two? You can think about all that when the big catch season comes. And later when the sea is barren, we’ll sell those and live off that!’

  A dog followed Karuthamma. It was looking for a chance to sneak in. Karuthamma went into her shack.

  She waited. When it was almost twilight Palani came home. He had a little packet in his hand.

  Karuthamma wondered if she should sulk. It wouldn’t be a pretence. She really was furious. But she worried if Palani would like it. She wore the beginning of a smile on her face. She asked, ‘Did the boats get in only just now?’

  Palani didn’t understand the sarcasm. Instead, he replied, ‘No, but look…’

  He gave her the packet. As she tore it open, she asked, ‘When you go to sea here, do your nets fill up with cloth?’

  He laughed. And she laughed.

  It was a beautiful kasavu neriyathu, a fine cloth to drape herself with, and it had an ornate zari border. Karuthamma opened it out. It was wide and of fine quality! Palani told her its price. They had bought five such pieces. Veluthakunju, Velayudhan, Kochuraman, Ayappan and he, and they had taken one each.

  Velayudhan’s child was ill; his wife had gone to Paru’s house to borrow some money for the medicine, Paru had just told her. That day there was trouble in Ayappan’s home as well. All those homes that had new pieces of cloth.

  With a hearty laugh Karuthamma asked, ‘What’s the use of a beautiful new neriyathu when we don’t even have a vessel or a glass to drink out of?’

  Perhaps overwhelmed by the heartiness of that laugh, he failed to understand the underlying irony yet again and instead laughed out aloud. And then he said, ‘Do you know why I bought this for you?’

  She asked, ‘Why?’

  ‘To go for the Mannarshala Ayilyam. Drape it around you and let me have a look.’

  Palani’s feelings reflected in his eyes as he looked at her. A glance at her high-raised breasts. She turned. Now that glance fell on her buttocks that were covered by just a sheer mundu.

  Palani took a few steps forward. Then she said, ‘I am covered in sweat and grime!’

  Even if there wasn’t a drinking vessel, was it wrong to have bought that beautiful neriyathu? It was what he desired. To see his wife dressed and decked up. Was life just about purpose and making things happen? Was life just about buying things for the house and making money? Wasn’t there an emotional dimension to life? Yes. There is. There certainly is.

  Karuthamma hadn’t seen anything like this ever in her life. Which is why perhaps it would seem unnecessary to her. Nevertheless, the thought that her husband wanted to see her well turned-out made her happy.

  She put aside any further thoughts of scolding him for having bought the neriyathu.

  Their bodies were locked in a tight embrace. Lips met. They were one. Eyes drooped languorously as they sank into a trance-like state. Hands wouldn’t unclasp. Separation was so hard.

  Karuthamma began to think that a kasavu neriyathu was vital to life. Life wasn’t all about bowls, jugs, boats and nets; it was also about the silken swish of a kasavu neriyathu.

  Even as they continued to eat supper from the same plate, Karuthamma’s eyelids were weighed down. Her face had a particular radiance to it. He rolled a ball of rice and placed it between her lips.

  ‘Oh, such a big ball won’t fit my mouth!’

  Perhaps that was true. After all it was a ball rolled by the fingers of a strong man who fought the mighty waves of the sea every day. He reduced the size of the ball.

  She rolled a ball and placed it in his mouth. Then he said, ‘Oh, did you place a ball in my mouth?’

  The banter left them laughing for a long while. Karuthamma, who had set out to chide him for having bought the neriyathu, said, ‘I want a silk blouse and a nice sari now!’

  When her youthful spirit had subsided, Karuthamma returned to earth. Her determination to discipline their lifestyle had to be put into effect. It was her right to know what his share of earnings for that day was. How had he spent it? She needed to know that as well.

  Karuthamma asked, ‘What was your share today?’

  ‘Something between ten and thirty.’

  ‘What is left of it now?’

  ‘There is a packet tucked behind that rafter. Take it out and count it!’

  Karuthamma undid the packet and counted out the money. There were two rupees. Twenty-eight rupees had been spent. So much could have been done with that! But she was too hesitant to broach it.

  She put an arm around his shoulder and leaned into him. She asked, ‘Can we always continue to live like this in a shack with both our bedroom and kitchen in one place?’

  ‘No!’ Palani replied mechanically.

  ‘There is so much that we need!’

  Karuthamma understood the dimensions of that need. She laughed heartily. She would turn the orphan, destitute Palani into fisherman Palani of means. She had decided t
o turn him around. She seized the freedom to say as much. She had begun to trust his affection for her. But he would have to accept some of her instructions for that.

  With a smile that would charm any heart, she said, ‘You mustn’t spend all you get!’

  Then she placed both her palms on his cheeks and said, ‘I won’t permit it!’

  ‘So don’t I need to drink tea or eat rice?’

  That she would sort out. Then she asked him a very important question, ‘What will we do when the babies come?’

  But he didn’t comprehend what she meant. When babies came, what did one do?

  ‘They’ll grow up.’

  As if he was a guileless child who had no knowledge of life or living, she described what it would be to lead a regulated life. A boat and nets – wasn’t that what every fisherman aspired to? So must Palani, she insisted.

  Palani retorted, ‘If all the fishermen in this shore thought like that, all of them would be millionaires … so why then isn’t everyone thinking as you suggest?’

  She answered that with a question. ‘Why can’t we think like that?’

  He told her what an ordinary fisherman’s vision of life was. A fisherman would never be able to save money. Do you know why? Because he made that money putting his life at stake. He made that money by betraying hundreds of fish that swam in the seas believing it to be theirs. Every day, when he saw countless such fish being caught with their eyes open and breath floundering, it ceased to affect him. But money made out of such mindless violence to life couldn’t be set aside; it just wasn’t possible.

  Why else would the people of the sea starve as they did? This wasn’t just Palani’s way of looking at life; this was the philosophy of the shore passed on from generation to generation through centuries. Karuthamma too had heard as much. But there was one man who had protested against it. Her father. Those days she hadn’t been convinced by her father’s arguments. However, she wasn’t merely convinced now but she also understood the gravity and importance of his reasoning. Nevertheless, she didn’t voice them. She didn’t have the courage to enter into a debate.