Indulekha

by O. Chandu Menon

  Panchu Menon and the Nambudiri accordingly went to Indulekha’s apartments. She was reclining on a sofa, turning over the leaves of the play Sakuntalam, and while Kesavan Nambudiri seated himself on, a chair, Panchu Menon sat down on the sofa and drawing Indulekha near him began stroking her shoulder with his hand.

  "What are you reading, my child?" he asked. "Is it the same kind of story that you told me the other day?"

  "No, grandfather," replied Indulekha. "This is Sakuntalam, but this copy is printed so badly, it is difficult to read."

  "Buy a good copy," said Panchu Menon. "Tell me where you can get one, and I’ll give you the money at once."

  "I don’t know if there is any copy better printed than this, grandfather," replied Indulekha. "But I’ll find out and let you know."

  "I will have a good copy specially printed for you, my child," said Panchu Menon.

  Indulekha laughed and said, "That would be very troublesome, grandfather dear, and very expensive. Besides, I am not sure that there is any bigger type than this."

  "What is it you are not sure about?" asked Panchu Menon.

  "Whether there is any large type-I mean the things with which they impress the letters," replied lndulekha.

  "I don’t know anything about that, my lass, but if there is none, why buy that too," said Panchu Menon, much to Indulekha’s amusement.

  Panchu Menon then continued, "We have come here to speak to you about a certain business, my child. According to old customs, it would not be necessary for you to know anything of the business at present; but it would be quite enough for you to be told when it is actually taken in hand. But, as we live in a peculiar age, we feel a little nervous, and so we have come to speak to you. Now, Nambudiri, please tell her."

  But Indulekha interposed and said, "I am quite satisfied if my grandfather acts up to the old customs. I am not subject to the humours of capricious age, and will be quite enough if I am told of the business when it is put in hand."

  "Bravo, Bravo, well said," cried Kesavan Nambudiri, turning to Panchu Menon. "That is quite enough. Let us go to bed."

  "But in case any difficulty is raised when the matter is taken in hand, we ought to clear the way now," replied Panchu Menon.

  "How can any difficulty, which may rise when the business is in progress, be foreseen now? and if so how can it be obviated now?" asked Indulekha.

  "There, did you see the English cropping out?" said Panchu Menon.

  "Where?" answered Indulekha. "Surely, grandfather, I spoke in Malayalam."

  "Yes, my dear, yes," replied Panchu Menon. "Don’t I know how clever you are!"

  "Really," said Indulekha, "I don’t see what cleverness there is in that, and I don’t understand what you mean."

  Panchu Menon addressed himself to Kesavan Nambudiri and said, "If we stop to argue with her, we shan’t get to sleep tonight. Do tell her the business on which we have come, and speak out plainly."

  "She understands it all already" said Kesavan Nambudiri.

  "That may be," returned Panchu Menon, "but we must find out what she thinks of it."

  "But didn’t she say that it would be enough if she, is told when the affair is put in hand?" said Kesavan Nambudiri.

  "How can your reverence talk such nonsense?" said Punchu Menon. "Ask her, ask her."

  The Nambudiri , thereupon told Indulekha that a match had been settled for her. "By whom?" asked Indulekha.

  "By your grandfather himself," answered Kesavan Nambudiri.

  "Very well," said Indulekha, "Let it be settled."

  "But do you consent to it, Indulekha?" asked Kesavan Nambudiri.

  "Where is the necessity of my consent to a matter which has been settled?" replied Indulekha.

  "We want to know if you consent," said Kesavan.

  "Then you ought to have consulted me before you settled the matter."

  "It is not necessary for its settlement that you should be informed."

  "This is preposterous," exclaimed Indulekha. "If that is the case, then what is the good of asking me anything now? The affair can be settled without my knowledge! It will be sufficient if I am told of it, when it is in progress! It has already been settled! Then what is the use of asking my consent? "

  At these words Panchu Menon’s anger began to rise, but he felt cowed by the resolution which unmistakably flashed from Indulekha’s radiant features and remained silent for some time. At last he said, "There is nothing but difficulty ahead. Lakshmi Kutty must speak to her tomorrow. Come, let us go to bed," and, taking Kesavan Nambudiri with him, departed.

  Returning to his own room he gave his wife a long and doleful account of the opposition he had met with in Indulekha’s apartment.

  "If you had given her a couple of good slaps," said his wife, "she would not have been so uppish. All this impudence comes from your mincing your words as you do."

  "I am not afraid of anyone in the world," said Panchu Menon. "But I don’t know how it is I am afraid of Indulekha, and if she gets angry I can’t stand it; what on earth can I do?" and, with his mind full of bitter regret for the oath he had taken in his anger, the old man fell asleep.

  It will be a fitting conclusion to this chapter to relate a conversation which took place at the same time between Kesavan Nambudiri and his wife in the privacy of their chamber.

  No description of Kesavan Nambudiri has yet been given and a few words are necessary to introduce him to my readers. His means, without being in any way remarkable, were sufficient for all ordinary purpose of life, and he had invested such ready money as he had in a thread manufacturing company. His personal ‘appearance, without being handsome, was not unprepossessing; and he was the bosom friend of the Nambudiripad who had been designated as the consort of lndulekha. He had never married in his own caste, and the time he spent at his own Brahminical house were brief. He used to take his meals at a private refectory near the Brahmin’s mess house at Puvalli, and was waited on by a Brahmin boy and two other servants. He was a man of the utmost simplicity of mind, and the proverb,

  "Were he a man of low degree,

  He’d be a fool assuredly,"

  suited him exactly, but he was courteous and good natured with all. Loving his wife sincerely, and always regarding her as the gift of propitious fortune, he now determined to consult her regarding the contemplated union of lndulekha with the Nambudiripad and, finding her asleep when he entered the room, he touched her gently and woke her.

  "Lakshmi, Lakshmi!" he said, "Why are you sleeping now? It is not nine o’clock yet."

  Lakshmi Kutty opened her eyes, and as she sat up, Kesavan Nambudiri said, "Why are you so sleepy now?"

  "Have you had any betel?" asked Lakshmi Kutty, "See, I prepared some and put it on that silver plate."

  "Oh, by all means let me have some," answered Kesavan Nambudiri, and fetching the betel leaf and nut he sat down beside his wife and said:

  "Would you like to hear particulars of our visit to Indulekha ?"

  "Isn’t, she asleep yet?" said Lakshmi Kutty. "The girl reads far too late into the night, and I fancy she will do herself some harm through want of sleep. They say light by using oil from the earth is very bad for the eyes."

  "Who told you such nonsense?" replied Kesavan Nambudiri. "As for oil from the earth, I suppose you mean kerosene. That’s the correct name. It is first class stuff and I lately saw the Thread Company’s factory lighted throughout, with kerosene lamps. I can’t tell you, Lakshmi Kutty, how crowded that place is with people, and I’ve often wished to take you there to see all the wonders."

  "What are all those wonders ‘?" asked Lakshmi Kutty.

  "Heaven help me, but I can’t describe them," replied Kesavan Nambudiri. "The ingenuity of the white men is wonderful, and you’d be astonished, Lakshmi, if you saw it; you wouldn’t believe it, but the thing which has made so much noise in the world as a Thread Company is nothing but an iron wheel. It makes all the thread and is driven round and round by nothing but smoke, smoke nothing but smoke.
But this smoke does not, like the smoke which hangs about our fire places irritate the eyes and nose and lungs in the least. They have built an enormous tail like a flagstaff over the Company and say it is intended to carry off the smoke. But I have my doubts as to this, and think there must be some magic charm inside it. These white men are too clever to let it out. If there were nothing of the kind would the iron wheel and pins move as if they heard the word of command’? No, there must be some magic about it."

  "Can’t any of you find out what the charm is?" asked Lakshmi Kutty.

  "If I asked the Engineer he would shoot me. No, No! We can’t think of asking him any thing," said Kesavan Nambudiri. "But if any of us went there, he would take us near the machine and rap out one lie after another. Even a child would not be taken in by what he says, but wed aren’t show in the least that we don’t believe him. On the contrary we pretend that we are quite convinced."

  "With all respect to you," replied Lakshmi Kutty, "I think this story about the smoke turning the machine is a mistake. lndulekha told me some things a few days ago about the railway train. She said that all machines of this kind are worked by the power of steam, and that smoke has no power in itself. She explained amongst other things that there is no smoke without fire, and that we simply see smoke where fire is, but that beyond this fact, smoke in itself is of no use."

  "Ah, that may be so in the case of railway trains," said Kesavan Nambudiri, "but all the same, it is smoke that drives the thread Company round. I am certain too that there’s some magic power inside that flagstaff. I have no doubt of it. Madhavan or Govindan Kutti must have been palming on some tales on Indulekha. The white men never tell these innocents the exact truth, but cram them with some cock and bull story, which the simpletons implicitly believe and repeat to women and such like. They never tell the real secret, or, if they do, it is only to those that change to their religion and put on hats like theirs."

  "I am not so sure of that," said Lakshmi Kutty. "There is really no power in smoke.’"

  "Don’t say so," answered Kesavan Nambudiri. "There really is some power in smoke. For instance, do you mean to say that the smoke from a sacrificial fire has no power? Here is also another point I am not certain about, and I suspect that, in this case, there is some sort of sacrifice going on to gain the favour of some deities. There must be some image or magic circles inside that flagstaff. Who knows! Then this sacrifice must be most acceptable to those deities, and it must be their favour which sends the Company round! Who can tell, except God Vishnu himself?"

  "But can’t you look in and find out?" said Lakshmi Kutty.

  "Really Lakshmi, what a question to ask? Do you suppose these white men would ever allow it? If they did, wouldn’t their greatness be at an end? Do you think they will ever part with the secret of the railway trains and telegraphs and other contrivances which we see they have brought into this country? Never. Have those white men spent a fraction in setting up this thread Company? No. All the money came out of the pockets of us natives, and then what advantages have we gained? Not a single native has been admitted into the mystery. They collected ever so much money, but it was in England that they made their Company and then brought it out here and started it. No doubt the Company is a mighty and splendid thing to look at, but there again, it is a white man who turns on the smoke and sets the wheels whirling round and makes the thread, and we only gape with wonder when we see it turning. If we natives were not great fools, why should we not have had the Company constructed here in Calicut itself? What was there to hinder us? As the money was ours, were they not bound to do what we said? But even if we said anything, it is not probable that we would gain our point.

  At any rate, after collecting a lakh and a half of rupees or so, they had the Company and everything constructed in their own country, and then brought it out by sea and set it up here. The wiser they and the greater fools we!"

  "Well then, will you get any profit out of the thing" "asked Lakshmi Kutty.

  "They all say it is a certainty and heaps of people have subscribed" answered Kesavan Nambudiri. "But we shall have to wait for two or three years before we know. It would be a good thing if we were taught all the knowledge which Englishmen possess."

  "Don’t you see the English are teaching the natives !" said Lakshmi Kutty. "What else should they do? Possibly it’s we that haven’t got the sense to learn."

  "Alas, my dear Lakshmi, is this your idea of the subject? None of these useful things are taught in their schools. It would be well for us if they were, but as it is they are only ruining our children, by what they teach in their schools. There is not a doubt of it. In the first place, the temples are gradually being deserted, purification by bathing after pollution is neglected, the use of sacred ashes and sandal paste is going out of fashion, reverential fear of family preceptors and elders is disappearing, and Brahmins are ceasing to be objects of veneration.

  In the next place they teach the young useless and ridiculous books, and then they make them pass some examinations, and then dignify them by tacking some letters on to their names. What’s the use of all this? If any of these youngsters who have learned English are asked how the telegraph is worked or the railway train driven, they don’t know as much about it as even you or I do, Lakshmi. When a child learns English he despises his home folk, and this is the result of English education."

  "Its nothing of the sort," said Lakshmi Kutty; "only the other day Indulekha explained to me clearly the principle on which the railway train is driven, and I understood it perfectly. It seems to me that these young people know a great deal more than we do, and this is probably the reason why they look down on us. I was much interested lately in what Madhavan told me about the telegraph."

  "That may be," replied Kesavan Nambudiri, "but let Indulekha drive a train, and then I’ll believe you."

  "How can that be?" returned Lakshmi Kutty. "In the first place we must have the train, and in the next, Indulekha must be taught how to drive it. The men who drive trains every day are nothing but common workmen, and don’t know so much about the principle of the thing as do our young people who have studied English."

  "Oh dear, Oh dear! you are a great noodle, Lakshmi Kutty. You must never believe these white folk. They profess not to use incantations and enchantments, but when I went to Calicut the other day, I drove with one of the Rajas to the sea shore, and saw, near the beach, a small building. I asked what it was, and the Raja said it was the place where the English people indulge in their mystic orgies. They call it Decapitation Lodge, because the white men have ordered that anyone who reveals the secrets of the orgies which go on in the Lodge must have his head chopped off. It is through these orgies that they won the favour of the goddess Kali and conquered the whole country, leaving to our Rajas about as much power as living corpses would have. Hence it is nonsense for them to tell us that they don’t employ incantations and witchcraft. A fine state of things this, isn’t it?"

  "Can natives be admitted to that Decapitation Lodge?" asked Lakshmi Kutty.

  "I don’t know, but probably not," replied Kesavan Nambudiri.

  "I am very sleepy," said Lakshmi Kutty.

  "So am I," said Kesavan Nambudiri. Lakshmi Kutty thereupon composed herself to sleep, and Kesavan Nambudiri was following her example, when it suddenly occurred to him that in talking to Lakshmi Kutty about the thread Company and other things, he had totally forgotten the purpose with which he had roused her, which was to tell her about the conversation with lndulekha and about the Nambudiripad; and in his artless simplicity, the worthy soul reproached himself with having been, for once in his life, actually stupid.

  Chapter 7

  It is seldom that an author who has set himself to the task of composing a story rigidly in accordance with veracity and decorum has occasion to apprehend that any passages in his work will cause heart-burning or give offence.

  But since this style of composition is a novelty in Malabar, some of my readers may possibly misunderstand the
object and design of certain episodes in the book, and I therefore deem it expedient to write a few words by way of explanation.

  It is necessary for me to describe in this and some succeeding chapters a fickle-minded and libidinous Nambudiripad. There is, however, no class of men in Malabar for whom I entertain greater respect than I do for the Nambudiris. I am acquainted with several who are distinguished for their intellect and ability, and I am proud to reckon some of them among my intimate friends. But in every caste we see shrewdness and stupidity, wisdom and folly, side by side, and the case of Nambudiris is no exception to the rule. If, therefore, on the one hand there is found portrayed in these pages a Suri Nambudiripad, whose character is the reverse of exemplary, so, on the other, the wit and estimable qualities of Cherusheri Nambudiri, who is introduced in company with the Nambudiripad, should be duly taken into account. Then I am confident that the intelligent and impartial reader will fully and freely absolve me from any intention of maliciously exposing to contempt and derision a section of the community which is so generally regarded with veneration and honour as are the Nambudiripads and Nambudiris in Malabar.

  In English novels the characters, male and female, are all drawn from various ranks of European society, and in some books even living celebrities are occasionally made the subject of censure, ridicule or praise, but unless the story is prompted by malice, no one thinks of taking offence at, or quarrelling with, the representations given therein.

  Hence I trust that no one will feel injured on account of any of the passages contained in this volume, and with these remarks I resume my tale.

  The letter which Kesavan Nambudiri read to Panchu Menon was from one Kannazhi Murikillatha Manakkal Suri Nambudiripad. The Kannazhi Murkillatha house, famous throughout Malabar, was unequalled in point of wealth and dignity, and Suri Nambudiripad was the second member of that rich and powerful family. But as the senior Nambudiripad was well advanced in years and infirm in health, it was Suri Nambudiripad who was entrusted with the entire administration of the affairs of the family.