by Benyamin
I walked towards the next junction to catch an auto. Suddenly, a Scorpio car came and stopped beside me. It was Meljo.
‘Hah, where are you coming from?’ I was amazed. ‘That’s what I also have to ask. How did you land here?’
‘I just came to the church.’
‘Okay, come.’ Meljo opened the car door.
We left to go to Valyedathu Veedu.
Photocopy
‘ACTUALLY, I WAS planning to leave for France the day after tomorrow. I cancelled it and came here only because you called me,’ I told him on the way.
‘France? For what . . .?’
‘Higher studies. I’ve been planning to go for a long time. Now I decided not to delay it any further.’
‘Ayyo, if I had known that, I wouldn’t have insisted on you coming here.’
‘Nothing will happen if I push it back another week. Also, I felt like meeting all of you once again before leaving.’
‘Your last visit was a relief for all of us in the family. As you yourself came to tell us what really happened, others could also be pacified. Otherwise, this place would have been full of gossip.’
While stories were dying here, new ones were spreading in Diego, but I didn’t tell Meljo that.
‘But that day, how did you recognize me in the crowd? I had wished to leave without letting anyone know.’
‘I knew about you through Melvin-chechi. At home, she used to open up only to me. Her dreams, wishes, everything. Merin and I are only one year apart, but I gelled more with Melvin-chechi, who was three years older.’
‘You were the only family member Melvin had talked about. Even the fact that Appachan was a doctor I came to know only after coming here.’
‘Melvin-chechi was like that. She took time to start talking. By the way, how did you recognize me? That day, when you called me by name, I was surprised.’
‘What’s the surprise in that?’ I asked. ‘You two look very similar. Even a child who’d seen Melvin could recognize you.’
‘Yeah, everyone says that. Some have even asked if we were twins. The joke was that I was photocopied from her. Now the original has gone away, leaving this photocopy behind.’ Meljo broke into tears.
I, too, could not stop my tears.
‘Is it possible to delete another person’s Orkut account . . .?’ Still in tears, Meljo asked out of the blue.
‘Don’t know. Might need the password. Why . . .?’
‘Many friends who don’t know she is no more, are still sending her greetings and scraps. What’ll I do . . .? I’m yet to come to terms with it. How will I tell another person?’
‘No, Meljo. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t also delete her account. Like in our minds, let Melvin live in that virtual world too. Let us also send a message to that once in a while. With a hope that she must be reading all of them from somewhere.’
Then, till we reached home, both of us were lost in our own memories.
My entry with Meljo grabbed quite a few eyeballs from the family members. ‘We knew you were coming, but how come you two are together?’ one of them asked.
Meljo narrated how he met me on the road.
Appachan inquired about the journey, and Amma, about food. Many relatives had already arrived. They did some small talk with me. Then asked Meljo to help me take rest.
He took me upstairs and opened Melvin’s room. The same room. Nothing had been moved out of it, everything was intact, prim and proper. A beautiful photo of hers was the only addition.
‘Only this room has an attached bathroom facility. Is that fine?’ Meljo asked.
‘If I’m staying in this house, I would rather prefer this room.’
‘Take a shower and freshen up. I’ll be back,’ he handed over a soap and towel, and went downstairs.
I was tired. Shower was a good option. In the bathroom, there was a photograph of a young Melvin on the mirror. I stumbled for a minute. That was a very old photo of hers. It was as if she was gazing at me. I felt ashamed to undress in front of her. I covered the photo with a towel. Still I felt that she was looking at me through the strands of the towel. Maybe it’s written in my destiny that I’ve to take shower in her bathroom, in front of her photo, when she is no more.
When Meljo came with coffee, I was standing in the room, sniffing a doll.
‘Not just the room, every object here has her scent,’ I said. ‘I feel her silent presence here.’
‘These are all Chechi’s collections since childhood. These dolls were her companions. Nobody has used this room other than her. Then how will it not smell of her . . .? God willing, you two would have spent your lives here,’ Meljo said.
‘Our lives . . .?’ I stared at him, confused.
‘In the Valyedathu tradition, the eldest girl shouldn’t be sent away after marriage. We adopt the guy. Appachan had come like that. Actually, Melvin-chechi wanted to tell you about that tradition before she left. She knew everyone there loves her. But she wasn’t sure if they would accept it. A day before she had called me too, and told me that she couldn’t meet you to tell you. Here, wedding inquiries were in full swing. Her plan was to tell Appachan only after Andrapper agreed. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone back to Diego.’
‘Hello, when did you arrive?’ Jijo walked in, putting our discussion to a halt.
‘This afternoon.’
‘I see. I had to go to college. From there, I came here directly.’
Jijo asked me more questions and I replied to all of them, but my mind was somewhere else—on the issue that Melvin had wanted to discuss with me. A kind of adoption. Would I have agreed . . .? It is only recently that I’d come to know of Udayamperoor and the Valyedathu family. Even then, I would have thought twice before deciding to stay here forever. At a time when all these people were as alien to me as a distant patch in an African forest, if Melvin had raised such a demand, would I have agreed? No, for sure. Then how would have Melvin reacted? Would she have stayed with me in Diego? Or would she have left me and returned to Valyedathu? From what I could gather from Meljo, Melvin had decided on the latter. But if I had explained my part, maybe Melvin would have changed her decision. Or after listening to her, I would have changed my mind. If not, would I have lost her?
I didn’t know why I was worrying about things past. Sometimes, the mind is like this. It won’t take the route of logic.
‘Shall we go for a walk?’ Jijo’s question took me back to normalcy.
‘Oh yes, let’s do that.’
I got ready in a jiffy. We called Meljo too, but he said he was stuck with some preparations for the next day.
It was beginning to get dark. We talked about Jijo’s college and my Diego days as we reached the main road. We had tea from a wayside stall.
‘Why are guys adopted at Valyedathu Veedu? I asked Jijo while returning.
He stopped walking. ‘Have you seen Udayamperoor Old Church?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘It’s a historically relevant church. You shouldn’t miss seeing it after coming all this way. Shall we go?’
We turned back. Jijo said it was close, but it didn’t seem so. I’d never walked so much in Diego. There are only short walks in Diego. And short walks in the mainland are long distances for us islanders.
The Old Church
TWO CHURCHES IN the same compound. One old and the other new. A plank next to the gate proclaims that the Synod of Udayamperoor took place on 20 June 1599. It has the images of two saints, with garlands. A caption below it reads: ‘St. Gervasius and St. Protasius, please pray for us’. An archaic stone cross stood next to it. Keeping guarding on its four sides were a winged lion, vulture, ox and human forms. The old church has been made a memorial.
The evening mass had just got over at the new church. Some people were loitering around.
When we tried to get into the memorial church, the priest was initially reluctant, saying that the visiting time was over and that it would be difficult to get a guide. I told him I’d come fro
m very far and had to go back the next day, that we didn’t need a guide; then he called up someone to open the church. We went through a narrow door leading to a dark room. There was a big granary. In earlier days, the church treasures were kept in it, said the guy who opened the door, acting like a guide. The right wall of the room had three stone relics. I tried to read them and failed. They were in old Malayalam. The door next to it opened to the church. Inside, it was dark and smelled its age. There were lights blinking here and there like fireflies. We slowly walked around, looking at things. This church seemed to be an excellent example of Kerala’s traditional architecture. Considering when it was built, it’s a relatively big church.
‘It is one of the oldest churches in Kerala,’ Jijo assumed the role of a guide. ‘Believed to be built in 510 AD, this church has much relevance in the history of Malankara Christians. The Synod of Diamper (former name of Udayamperoor), during which the Portuguese Padroado gained control over the Malankara Church, took place here.’ Seeing that Jijo had taken over his place, the man with us slowly pulled back.
Many memorials of the synod were preserved in the church. The first glass box had a model of the synod. The next one had the model of a decree by which the Kerala Christians banished the Portuguese authority after fifty years. Then there were priests’ cassocks, zucchettos, candle lamps, prayer books, clerical utensils, a tomb, and such things.
What made me the most curious was a raised platform from where everyone could hear the speaker at a time when the microphone was not invented.
There were no pillars to support the church’s ceiling and roof. As it was dark, I could not see the ceiling clearly. But from whatever was visible, the architecture could beat the best of present-day sculptors in Kerala. It’s doubtful that anyone can dream of such a work in Diego, forget making it. The roof had motifs of elephants and horses, the rafters had forms of angels, fish, birds, flowers, leaves, and the smaller planks were full of floral woodwork.
‘Have you ever heard of Thoma of Villarvattom?’ Jijo asked while moving away from the architecture.
‘No. Who it is he?’
‘Villarvattom is the only Christian dynasty in Kerala’s history. The kingdom’s capital was none other than Udayamperoor!’
I was surprised to see a young, smart engineering student quickly transforming into a well-read history teacher. The change was reflected in Jijo’s expressions, voice and body language. ‘Chendamangalam, Malyankara and Udayamperoor were the borders of the kingdom. Chendamangalam was the first capital, but after the Arab invasion, the power centre shifted to Udayamperoor. For over 1000 years, all the Christians of Malankara were under the rule of the Villarvattom Thoma kings. Like the Pope in Rome, the right to decide the archdeacons for Malankara Christians vested with the Villarvattom kings. The old church where we stand now was the royal church during those days.
‘Once, the kings were buried inside this church. You remember the three epitaphs we saw? One of them says: ‘Chennongalathu partha Villarvattom Thoma rachavu naadu neengi 1500 Kanni 2-nu’ (King Thoma of Villarvattom from Chennongalathu passed away on the 2nd of the Kanni month, 1500). It’s in the old Malayalam script. Not easy to say which king’s it was. It was a custom with the Villarvattom dynasty to not use their original names. Every one of them was called King Thoma. Anyway, after the last king passed away, Paliath Achan assumed power in a coup and merged it with the Kochi kingdom.’
‘Was Mariyam his daughter . . .?’
‘Yes. She fell in love with a Hindu prince and married him. But Paliath Achan cheated them. That’s how the regime ended.’
‘Amazing. Are we standing in the church of that Thoma king and Mariam?’
‘Why, have you heard of this before . . .?’
‘There is a church in Diego believed to be built by Mariam. I realize it only now that she was a princess of Udayamperoor. That church has a huge following of women. I used to take my Chettathi there regularly. That’s where I first met Melvin.’
‘Oh I see . . . And yet, Melvin had never told you these stories?’
‘No.’
‘Nothing about Mariam?’
‘No.’
‘About Thaikkattamma?’
‘Thaikkattamma?
‘No.’
‘Oh, I thought she would have told you something. That’s why I was asking earlier whether you’d decided to marry her even after knowing all about Valyedathu Veedu.’
‘Jijo, you have not replied to my question. Why do men have to be adopted into this family?’
‘Come, I’ll tell you.’
We waded through the darkness.
Thaikkattamma
‘IF WE GO east from here, there is a chapel called Thaikkattu Palli. Thaikkattamma is the deity there. Jesus’s mother Mary has many local forms across the world. You must have heard of Manarcad Mathavu, Velankanni Mathavu, Koratti Muthi, etc. Like that, people here call her Thaikkattamma. Every universal figure has regional interpretations. The locals have a special affection for these deities. An affection rooted in their faith. Shall we go there?’
‘Yeah, sure,’ I said.
It was only a short distance away. A beautiful little chapel. The crowd was bigger than at the Udayamperoor church. They were lighting candles, pouring oil, and praying in front of a statue believed to have stuck in a fishermen’s net at sea.
I, too, lit a candle, for Melvin. ‘Oh dear Thaikkattamma, the graceful one, please accompany Melvin in the lonely journey of her soul.’
‘This church, too, has a huge following of women,’ Jijo said as we were leaving. ‘There is a custom of pregnant women offering paddy here. People come from distant places. As I was saying, the general belief is that Thaikkattamma is the Virgin Mary, but a faction of the people secretly believes she is Mariam, daughter of the last Thoma king. But many people here aren’t aware of that.
‘Though Paliath Achan betrayed her, deposing her husband to Ceylon, and merging her land with Kochi, she stuck to her beliefs till her death. At least some still believe that Mariam was a saint, that she had magical powers, and that prayers to her can help get any deed done. It is said that it was due to such prayers and powers that Paliath Achan’s last days were grim; all his wealth was confiscated. To those who believe in her, she can be very kind and bestow all kinds of blessings; but to those who don’t, she’ll fume with fury. Like the Chathan Seva Mutts, there are still at least four families in Kerala that use Thaikkattamma for rituals to ward off enemies and evil forces.
‘There is a secret ritual in some houses that worship Mariam. The prayers and chants are in the ancient Pali script. It’s called Mariam Seva. But it’s very difficult to please Thaikkattamma. It needs a lot of patience and prolonged efforts to get her to grant your wishes. For that, a girl from the family has to be offered to Mariam. The girl has to follow a long list of customs, fasting, abstinence and sacrifices. Once offered, the girl can’t be taken away from her. She has to spend her whole life with the family that does the seva and be part of the rituals. But there is no issue in her getting married or leading a normal life. In fact, Thaikkattamma likes her more if she is married, as she herself is longing for her husband. If the seva is disturbed or the customs are not followed, the girl could end up being a lunatic or mentally disturbed, or even dead.
‘I don’t know which are the other three families in Kerala that do Mariam Seva. But I know the fourth one: Valyedathu Veedu! In the name of treatment, what Meljo’s Appachan actually does here is Mariam Seva. And the girl from this generation who was offered to Thaikkattamma was none other than Melvin!’
We had reached Valyedathu Veedu. In the dim light, the house looked like a ghost inn.
The Song
AFTER WHAT I’D heard, everything at Valyedathu Veedu looked strange and mysterious. It was not the same house I’d seen before. I started observing every nook and corner of the house with a new set of eyes. I found an uncanny element in everything I saw, every picture and in every room. Some pictures in the verandah,
some carvings in the rooms, a prayer room similar to the one in Hindu houses, a stone cross, the obscure etchings on it, prayers in front of a lighted lamp . . . everything seemed bizarre and out of place. When we reached, the evening prayer was on. Two or three priests and a lot of relatives. We, too, joined them. But I didn’t understand a word of their chants. I felt a strange fear for the first time.
Mariam Seva! I’d never heard of it before. Does that really exist? It must. The prayer room of this house is adding to the belief. This is not a normal house; it’s a den of mystery.
When the prayers ended, Appachan scolded Jijo for taking me out at dusk, when snakes comes out to prey in the dark. Then he held my hand and took me to the next room, saying he had not had time to talk to me the last time, and that he doesn’t get anyone to talk to these days. News of Diego, about my house, about my father and mother, and about Melvin’s death . . . he asked about everything in detail. As the gentle and soft conversation proceeded, his simplicity and affectionate attitude grew. I was studying him the entire time. Are his gentle eyes hiding a vicious evil-worshipper . . .? Are his soft fingers secretly writing the mantras . . .? Is this the tongue behind the chants . . .? The hands that invoke Mariam . . .?
While talking, he suddenly grabbed my hands. ‘Son, it was my daughter’s wish to make you part of this family. Thaikkattamma didn’t let it happen through her. But now you are part of our hearts and this house. Now there can be no separation. Let me ask: will you marry Merin and be part of this house . . .?’
I was sweating, I did not know what to say. My hands started shaking. No. No. Merin is not Melvin. I can be part of this house. But I can’t marry Merin. I can’t. I can’t. I wanted to scream that out aloud, but no voice could come out. It felt like he had tied my tongue. I didn’t say what I wanted to say, but what he wanted to hear.
I’m willing, I promised him. He held me close and kissed my forehead. ‘My daughter is lucky. This house is blessed.’ He broke into tears. Me too.