‘Nonsense! Tell me the names.’
‘I won’t. Really, I won’t. It’s a sin.’
The shef drew his whip and flicked it across Kusta’s bare back. The man recoiled in pain, ‘Stop, don’t beat me, I’ll tell you!’
In a frightened voice he blurted out, ‘One is the sarpa muli, it grows on ant hills. You have to break the anthill to get the root. The other is the bark of the apatha tree. It removes the poison and purifies the blood.’
‘And those leaves that you rubbed on the body?’
‘Those were just nirmalya leaves.’
‘Now tell me the mantra your guruji gave you. Whisper into my ear if you like.’
Kusta was quite afraid by now. ‘No, no ga, I’ll break my promise if I tell you. I’ll die. My children will die…’ he protested.
‘You’ll have to tell me.’
‘No, no. I can’t!’
The shef lashed at Kusta once again, drawing blood. ‘Deva, Iswara, come to my aid, come help me!’ Kusta repeated the prayer in a voice laden with tears.
The shef turned away. He was not really interested, merely venting his anger on Kusta. Now he needed to get on with the investigation. He had sent a soldier on horseback to Goapattana with a message for the captain. By evening Tenent Santan Lobo, a subordinate of the captain who had recently come to Goa, arrived in the village accompanied by three other soldiers. They looked at the dead soldier, a tall and well-built man. They couldn’t possibly carry the body all the way to Goapattana for the funeral. The Tenent walked around the temple grounds looking for a suitable spot to bury him.
There was a large field behind the Ramnath temple and beside it was an open space overgrown with shrubs and bushes. The Tenent ordered his men to bury the soldier there. The priest and other soldiers began to prepare for the burial.
A current of joy rushed through the village as news of the soldier’s death spread. These people, who were always quick to mourn a death, rejoiced at this death of an enemy. God had appeared in the form of a serpent and bitten the soldier. They took it as a sign of deliverance, a promise of protection. Rayanna Bhat went about saying, ‘God has punished them. They’ll all die or they’ll run away from the village. Didn’t I always say God would save us?’ The villagers agreed.
The corpse was laid on a broad plank and two thick pieces of wood attached to either end. Four men carried it past the temple to the grave. As they buried the man, the two priests chanted prayers in Latin. The villagers watched all this, and a strange thrill passed through them – this is the first grave they are digging in this village, it will also be the last, they thought.
The Tenent and his squad stopped before the Ramnath temple on their way back from burying the soldier. Seeing the bhat and his companions, he declared, ‘That plain will now be the village cemetery where all Christians will be buried after death. No one else may set foot there. Very soon we will build a church close by.’ The villagers became nervous. They were making arrangements for burying the dead even before they had converted people to their faith!
Sukhdo Nayak, who lived by the old well in Shirvaddo, sat alone in the darkness muttering to himself. Two of his sons sat in the courtyard wondering why their father was so agitated that day.
‘They’ve taken away the fertile fields that belonged to the village council. They’ll give those fields to those who convert to their faith. Let us acquire some of that land,’ he said in a low voice.
‘But we’ll have to convert, Bappa, give up our religion…’
‘Religion? God and religion are for those whose bellies are full. If I divide my land amongst the three of you, none of you will get much. We can’t even bid for the village land any more.’
Sukhdo Nayak’s sons were silent for a while. Though Sukhdo was short, his sons were strapping young men with broad shoulders and muscles as hard as iron. ‘If we forsake our faith and take up theirs, we might regret it later,’ the elder son said in a worried voice.
‘There’s nothing to regret, Ramkushta. We’ll go to their church and say, do what you want. Feed us what you will. Then we’ll come back and bathe in cold water before entering the house. They can keep their faith, we’ll keep ours. People will talk for a few days, then they’ll forget. You take my word, these foreigners have come from across seven seas, they won’t stay here very long. They sleep on beds and eat out of golden plates. Why will they want to stay in this impoverished village?’
‘But there are some locals who’ve become Christians. They’ll stay.’
‘Yes. So will we. If we don’t acquire that land at once, someone else will. Everyone’s waiting to see who makes the first move.’
‘Let’s go, then. We’ll say we have many people at home, let them give us what they will,’ Molu, the elder son, said.
‘But Avo will definitely not agree. She says she wants to go on a pilgrimage to Pandhari this year,’ Ramkushta exclaimed.
Sukhdo was angry. ‘Let her be. She can stay in this house if she wants to. Or let her build a hut and live there alone. Let’s go right now, while it’s dark. Who knows what might happen tomorrow?’
They crossed the ridges bordering the fields and reached the temple plain. The trees on either side hid the sky and they could barely see the track before them, but they knew the area well. Molu was nervous, ‘God will be angry with us. The villagers won’t keep quiet, either,’ he said.
His father turned around and whispered, ‘If we turn back now, we’ll wring our hands in regret later. They’ll force us to convert anyway.’ Sukhdo was a very shrewd man and was well aware of the situation that was developing around him.
They stopped a little distance from the Betaal shrine. A soldier stepped forward, sword in hand, ‘Who’s that? Who are you?’ he demanded.
‘I’m Sukhdo Nayak. These are my sons. We’ve come to join your religion.’
‘Do all of you want to become Christians?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why have you come at night?’
‘It’s better to fix things up in the darkness of night. This is an evil village full of suspicious people. They’re jealous. Don’t care to see any one do anything good.’
The soldier went to the door of the shrine and called out to the shef. The shef soon emerged followed by constable Remet Noronha and Padre Colaso.
‘We’re Nayaks from Shirvaddo.’
‘How many members are there in your family?’
‘Nine members. I have three sons. The third one is young, but these two are married. The elder one has two children and the second has one child. We’ll come with their wives and children.’
‘And your wife?’
‘Not her. She’s not all right in the head.’
‘Very well then. But why have you come stealthily like this, at night? What do you want to say?’
‘For those surrounded by troubles, day and night are the same! We have come to the point of starvation, hodda mansha, you great man. We used to survive by bidding for the village lands, but now you’ve taken that away. If you could give my household enough land to sow four khandis of paddy seeds…’
‘Not four khandis. The other new converts will also have to get some fields. We will make the whole village Christian soon.’
Sukhdo remained silent.
‘You’ll get a strip to sow two khandis. And that’s because you had the courage to come here first.’
‘But we’re nine members … nine of us…’ Sukhdo stammered.
‘Not another strip! If you’re not satisfied, go back. When the swords lash you tomorrow, you’ll cower in fright and beg to be converted,’ the shef said.
‘I’ll take what you give, hodda mansha, but give us fields on the lower slopes.’
‘All right. Become a Christian first, then strike your pickaxe in the field.’
‘And if the villagers object?’
‘Our soldiers and constables will stand there with swords to protect you. Besides, the mhal gaonkar has signed away that land to the Portuguese
King.’
Padre Colaso was delighted. Nine people had volunteered to become Christians in such a short time. ‘You will be baptized at St Lawrence’s Church next Sunday. Be here at daybreak. You will be given white garments and each of you will get four cruzados too,’ he said.
‘All right. I give my word,’ the men said and turned away.
‘Sukhdo Nayak! You’ve given your word. If you break it now you won’t get the land. Nor will we let you keep your religion,’ the shef declared in a menacing voice.
The words seemed to echo in the darkness and Sukhdo was afraid that someone would hear them. When they got home, the women and children were sitting on the ledge outside the house. The younger son, Vasu, lay on a reed mat in the hall.
‘Where did you go so late at night with your sons? Better to eat mud, if your belly isn’t filled. Why do something so evil and treacherous?’ Sukhdo’s wife demanded.
‘Quiet! Just shut your mouth, wretched creature! Don’t convert, if you don’t want to. But if you stop the others, I’ll break your head!’ Sukhdo thundered.
‘Who do you mean by others?’ Gopika, the elder daughter-in-law asked.
Sukhdo lowered his voice at once. ‘All of us, the rest of the family, elder daughter-in-law. You must take charge now, you’re the older one. We go there, perform some rituals, and come back. Then we lead our lives as usual, they lead theirs. They’ve promised to give us as much land as we want, that too on the lower slopes.’
The atmosphere in the house remained heavy and tense during the next three days. The younger one, Parvati, was not deeply affected but Gopika, the elder daughter-in-law was worried and scared. Their mother-in-law withdrew into herself, wandering aimlessly about the house. Sometimes she’d stand by the well in the back yard.
On Saturday evening just after dusk, the elder son Molu said to his wife, ‘We have to go tomorrow, at daybreak. We must take the children as well.’
Gopika began to tremble and clenching her teeth, she murmured, ‘No, no! I won’t go … I won’t…’
Molu grabbed his wife by the arms and shook her violently, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ he cried. He poured a pitcher of water on to her head and slowly she came out of the delirium, weeping like a child.
‘A blazing fire consumes everything in its path. Wet or dry. Nothing escapes. Faith and religion are baseless issues. When they were razing all those temples in Chornem and Goapattana, what was God doing? Why didn’t He grab the foreigner’s hands? Why didn’t He hold back those sledgehammers and crowbars? That’s it. We must go early tomorrow morning,’ Molu spluttered.
In a little while the house became quiet and still. Sukhdo lay in bed worrying about the repercussions of what he had set out to do. Mother Earth! O Bountiful Goddess! It’s for you that I’m selling my soul!
They woke up at dawn. The men drew on their vests and wrapped fresh loincloths about their hips. Ramkushta’s wife, Parvati, seemed quite enthusiastic about everything but the elder daughter-in-law, Gopika, was nowhere to be seen. They found her sitting by a large anthill just behind the house. Her face was pale and swollen with crying.
When they were ready to depart, their mother Mhalkum picked up the box of pinar and dabbed smears of the vermilion powder on the women’s foreheads. She called her youngest son, Vasu, to her side and flung a fistful of pinar over him so that his head and neck and the clothes he wore were stained red.
‘Why do you sprinkle pinar? Do you think we are taking them to be sacrificed on the battle field?’ Sukhdo fumed through clenched teeth.
They set out at daybreak accompanied by a priest and three soldiers. The sun was overhead by the time they reached St Lawrence’s Church which was a large thatched hut, by the site of a temple that had been razed. Large stone slabs from the ruined temple were being carried to huge pits where the foundation of a new church was being laid.
The married women were asked to remove the beaded galsari from their necks and wipe the kumkum from their foreheads. Parvati, who had seemed unaffected till now, wailed aloud as she gave her galsari to her husband and passed a hand across her sweaty brow. Gopika, however, refused to let anyone near her, clutching at the beads with both hands. Finally her husband grabbed the galsari and snapped the string with his teeth. Gopika dropped to the ground and scooped up the scattered beads along with the dust, knotting them in a corner of her sari.
There was a stone platform in the hut and on it were a crucifix and wooden images of Mother Mary and Jesus, with a crown of thorns on His head. Some thirty persons from different localities had come to be baptized. Everyone was served payz in clay bowls and then sent to take a dip in the pond. The women were given white garments which covered them from their shoulders to their waists. The men were given long white coats and it was odd to see these upper garments paired with the meagre loincloths that the men normally wore.
An old padre stood at the pulpit facing the group of people who knelt before him. He recited prayers as he sprinkled holy water from an urn and daubed a spot of oil on their heads and temples. He made the sign of the cross at their breast and put the wine and wafer, representing Jesus’s flesh and blood, into their mouths. Everyone bowed low before the priest. He went back to his place at the pulpit and announced the Christian names that had been given to each of the converts.
‘Sukhdo Nayak. By the grace of our Lord Jesus you will now be known as Salvador Dias.
‘Molu Nayak. By the grace of Lord Jesus, you are now Manuel Dias.
‘Ramkushta Nayak. By the grace of Lord Jesus you are now Pedro Dias.
‘Vasu Nayak. By the grace of Lord Jesus you are now Jose Dias.
‘And now for the women – Gopika. By the grace of our Lord Jesus you will now be known as Isabel, wife of Manuel Dias.
‘Parvati. By the grace of Lord Jesus you are now Fatima, wife of Pedro Dias.’
The priest then read out the names of their three children. When the Christian names of all the new converts had been announced the padre’s deep resonant voice rang out as he celebrated Mass.
‘Lord Almighty, Son of God, Jesus Christ. We, your children, born into a new life have gathered at your feet to embrace your teachings and become one with you in body and in soul. Protect us, make us fit vessels for your faith and devotion. Let our sins be burnt to dust and the gates of Heaven open before us. We shall follow your teachings and uphold the faith with devotion. Bless us and help us become good Christians. Amen.
‘When the whole Universe was steeped in darkness, He lit the lamp and shed light. Darkness and light, day and night, heaven and earth, land and water and all living creatures … He created them all. He sent His son Jesus into the world of men to spread the message of love and compassion and we, lowly creatures, were blessed by His presence. His heart, full of compassion, is as boundless as the sea. Ask, and He shall lead you to love, peace and joy. He shall deliver you from all sin. Pray to Lord Jesus, Son of God, show us the path of truth and righteousness that will lead us to You. He possessed nothing but love and compassion.
‘One day a grieving mother came up to Jesus, “Son of God, born from the holy womb of Virgin Mary, my son lies dead. Save him, bring him back to life.” Jesus went with her to her house and on seeing the boy said, “Your son is not dead. He is fast asleep.” Upon hearing this the people who had gathered all around began to laugh and taunt Jesus. The Lord stepped forward and laid a hand on the boy. “Rise, O son of this mother,” He said, and at once the boy sat up. The balm for all your pain and sorrow lies in His hands.’
Each of newly converts received four cruzados, coins they were seeing for the first time. They could buy a khandi of paddy or a hundred coconuts for one cruzado and in Goapattana, it could pay for a blanket or a woman’s sari. Sukhdo was delighted. He gathered the thirty-six gold coins into the end of his loincloth and tucked it in at his waist.
The sunlight had begun to fade when they neared their village. Gopika collapsed in a heap under a tree and declared, ‘I’m not setting foot in there, I’ll
go somewhere and kill myself.’ The younger daughter-in-law, Parvati, laid a hand on her shoulder, ‘Akka, let’s go. We can’t change what’s in our fate, sister.’
‘What fate are you talking about? They’ve turned you into a widow even while your husband is alive, but what does that matter? All you care for is the money!’ Gopika snarled.
Parvati, who had walked briskly all the way was dumbstruck. Padre Colaso, who was waiting for them to come to terms with the situation, stepped forward now. ‘There’s no cause for complaint once you’ve been baptized. If you go against the Christian faith, the Inquisition will get you and burn you at the stake. You have sworn an oath that you will be good Christians. You will not be forgiven if you stray,’ he said.
Sukhdo clutched the coins in his fist and turned on his daughter-in-law angrily. ‘Be quiet and accept what you get, what difference does religion make? Seeds will sprout whether you worship Ishwar or whether you worship Jesus. The belly has to be filled first of all. They’ve only removed a string of beads from your neck, they haven’t broken your limbs, have they?’
‘Let it get dark, at least. How can we face the villagers?’ Gopika pleaded faintly.
‘Listen, we have to live here for the rest of our lives.’
‘This is something new in this village, but hundreds of women elsewhere have become Christians. They weep for two days and then everything is fine,’ the priest said.
Darkness had not quite set in when they got to the village and the atmosphere seemed deceptively calm and quiet. Small groups of men stood and stared at them silently from the temple plain or the peepal or in the fields. It was as though a single word would be enough to set off a confrontation. The silence on both sides was pregnant with distrust as though people were just waiting to light that first spark.
Maybe they know that we’ll get the land, Sukhdo said to himself. Suspicious fellows! If someone mistakenly eats something that has been touched by a Christian, these people cast him out. And if someone becomes a Christian of his own free will, they act suspicious and taunt him, too!
Age of Frenzy Page 8