Indulekha

by O. Chandu Menon

  At the time of this story, he was forty-five years of age, and as he had, from early youth, been occupied with the management of the family estate, he had acquired no education. He had never married in his own caste, but despite the importunity of the senior Nambudiripad on the subject, he remained a bachelor up to the time of which I write. Two of his younger brothers were married, and he had arranged their marriages, but as for himself he was content to pass his time in forming temporary alliances with Sudra women. I have no intention of describing his personal appearance minutely, and it will be sufficient to state that although he was by no means repulsively ugly, yet in spite of a very fair complexion, he was neither good-looking nor elegant. There was nothing remarkable in his features, and probably there are thousands of men who bear a general resemblance to him in Malabar; but it must be noted that in certain respects his face and deportment were peculiar. When he laughed his mouth stretched from ear to ear, his nose, though not deformed, was far too small for his face, and, instead of walking, he hopped like a crow. Mention has already been made of his amorous propensities, and a more detailed account of his characteristics is unnecessary.

  When a man of wealth abandons himself entirely to the persuit of women, it is unnecessary to expatiate on his other qualities, and it is impossible for him not to regulate all his thoughts and actions solely with reference to the chief object which he has in view.

  The management by the Nambudiripad of the affairs of the house was merely nominal. All business was in reality conducted by paid agents, and it may be said that, as some of them were capable and clever, the family affairs continued to be more or less satisfactory. The Nambudiripad was in reality simpleminded and free from guile, but owing to the perversity of his disposition, few people believed in his innocence. As is usually the case with plutocrats, who are devoid of ordinary knowledge and education, this individual had conceived an immense opinion of himself. Astounding fool as he was, he was fully persuaded by the agents whom he employed that he was a most efficient man of business, and by the mistresses whom he kept that he was a veriable Cupid upon earth. Deluged continually with flattery, the simpleton was firmly convinced of his own greatness and, swallowing implicitly all manner of nonsense concerning the beauty of his person uttered by artful and unscrupulous courtesans, who longed only for his money, he strutted and plumed himself in the conceit that he really possessed the qualities ascribed to him. Even the five and forty years which had passed over his head had not served to dispel in the slightest degree the hallucination under which he suffered. "My prince," said a woman to him once, "I, your thrall, could not live an instant without gazing on your celestial form," and the words were impressed on his mind as indelibly as if carved in stone.

  "Oh, my prince!" sighed another woman, "the bliss of your heavenly embrace is itself all too great for me, your slave. Who cares for money? Anyone may have that, but can I find anyone with so divine a form as yours?" And he stored the saying in his mind as if it were a passage from the Vedas.

  Latterly he had made a friend and constant companion of Govindan Nambudiri, who was a member of the Cherusheri house, and one of the cleverest and most entertaining men in the world. He was a past master in Sanskrit etymology and syntax, and proficient in music; his face and form were most pleasing to the eye; in power of conversation he was unsurpassed by any, and his disposition was free from any taint of malice. But at the same time he had not the slightest respect for individuals who made themselves ridiculous, and all, except those who were too dull to appreciate it, stood in awe of his satire. It was only such as were too stupid to notice anything that did not dread his sarcasm, and our friend Suri Nambudiripad was not afraid of him. As for Govindan Nambudiri, he had never regarded Suri Nambudiripad with any feelings of friendship, but on the contrary held him in the utmost contempt. Nevertheless, an open display of this sentiment was quite out of the question, because Suri Nambudiripad was, in point of wealth and dignity, pre-eminent among Nambudiris, and it was, therefore. impossible not to give, him at least the outward show of respect. Suri Nambudiripad dearly loved to hear his own praises sounded, and it is difficult to distinguish between genuine praise and flattery. Govindan Nambudiri entertained the most cordial friendship for Suri Nambudiripad’s younger brother, Narayanan Nambudiripad, who was a worthy man in all respects, but found it almost impossible to have any intercourse with him when he visited the Murkillatha family residence. On these occasions he used to be summoned to the mansion occupied by Suri Nambudiripad, and it was no easy matter to effect an escape.

  Such was the footing on which Govindan Nambudiri stood with regard to Suri Nambudiripad. Unless the Nambudiripad was spoken to in the manner which titillated his fancy, he became offended, and rather than incur any unpleasant consequences from his resentment, Govindan Nambudiri used to fool him to the top of his bent with flattery. The Nambudiripad always grew highly incensed and indignant with all who failed to assure him that he was the ideal of beauty and a model man of business, and thus the only course open to Cherusheri Nambudiri was to extol him to the skies.

  Another trait in the Nambudiripad’s character was his fondness for Kathakali and if the year had more than three hundred and sixty-five days, and if he had seen a play performed every day, even then he would not have been satisfied. He was thus a great patron of the stage, and, in a measure, was a competent critic of the merits and defects of a play. Finally, in his opinion, his younger brothers, who were really men of ability, were drivelling idiots.

  The Nambudiripad was taking an oil-bath in the bathing house when he received Kesavan Nambudiri’s letter. As soon as he had read it, he ordered Cherusheri Nambudiri to be sent for, and his betel-box bearer, Govindan, went on the errand. This Govindan was a smart young rogue, who had taken the exact length of his master’s foot and calculated all his foibles to nicety, but nevertheless felt great respect and attachment for him. When he reached the Cherusheri house, Govindan Nambudiri, who had finished breakfast, had come out into the verandah and was arranging the pieces for a game of chess. On seeing Govindan he said, "What’s the matter? Why are you in such a hurry?"

  "He wants you to be good enough just to come over there," replied Govindan.

  "Has the Nambudiri had breakfast?" enquired Cherusheri Nambudiri.

  "No," said Govindan. "He is rubbing himself with oil in the bath house."

  "Then what’s all this fuss about! Is there anything particular?"

  "A letter has come from Kesavan Nambudiri from Chembhazhiyot," said Govindan, "and as soon as he read it, he ordered me to fetch you, sir."

  "All right, I understand," said Cherusheri Nambudiri, "I’ll come, but I must change my dress," and so saying he went inside the house.

  Some twenty days before this, Cherusheri Nambudiri had gone with Kesavan Nambudiri to Chembhazhiyot, and had then conceived a great friendship and affection for lndulekha and Madhavan. He had come away, promising to return very soon. As he was saying good-bye, Kesavan Nambudiri had intimated to him that the union of lndulekha with Suri Nambudiripad would be very suitable, and had bespoken his help, but Cherusheri Nambudiri had replied that the scheme was impracticable. After he came back from Chembhazhiyot, he mentioned lndulekha to Narayanan Nambudiripad, but did not utter a syllable concerning her to Suri Nambudiripad or any one else. Thus it happened that Cherusheri Nambudiri was already acquainted with lndulekha.

  On receiving Govindan’s message he determined to start, and changing his garments, he came out of his room, and, calling to Govindan, set out on his way. As they went along, Govindan said, "If I may make bold to say so, sir, it seems to me that your reverence knows the business on which I was sent to fetch you. But if not, will you give me leave to speak?"

  "Speak on," said Cherusheri Nambudiri.

  "Then, sir," said Govindan, "it seems that there is a lovely young lady at Chembhazhiyot, the house with which Kesavan Nambudiri is connected, and it is in order to get my master to unite himself with her that this letter was sent. I th
ink, too, that your reverence will be required to come also." Cherusheri Nambudiri listened until Govindan had finished, and then laughing, said,

  "And if we go, aren’t you coming as well, Govindan?"

  "Of course, sir, I am coming," said Govindan. "The man who brought that letter told me you had seen the young lady, but I don’t know if this is true.’’

  "Yes, I have seen her," said Cherusheri Nambudiri. "I fancy it was the letter-carrier who told you all about the match."

  "No sir, no," denied Govindan. "It was my master himself who did me the honour of telling me. I did not read the letter, sir. He told me something else too, that it is not like the usual kind of match. He said that the day after he had united himself with the lady-he told me her name, he said it was Chandrabhanu or Chitralekha, or something like that-he would bring her to the family house with him, and that the matter would be mentioned today to the senior, so as to get his consent." When he heard this, Cherusheri Nambudiri burst out laughing in spite of himself, and Govindan also laughed, though he did not quite know the reason.

  As soon as Suri Nambudiripad had despatched Govindan to Cherusheri Nambudiri, he hurried over his bath and breakfast, and coming out into the verandah stood there meditating with great relish on Indulekha. Just then Thachu Menon, the agent who attended to the legal affairs of the family, approached with a bundle of papers in his hand.

  "Go away, Thachu," said the Nambudiripad, "I haven’t a moment for any business today."

  "Pray, sir, just peruse this," said Thachu Menon.

  "You may say what you like," returned the Nambudiripad "But I can’t, today."

  "But the case comes on for hearing the day after tomorrow" said Thachu Menon, "and there were some particulars I had to talk to your honour about. I must mention them now."

  "The hearing be hanged!" replied the Nambudiripad; "I tell you I have no time to listen to anything at all now."

  "But a document has to be filed," urged Thachu Menon, "and an application must be made for this. The application is ready written, and only wants your honour’s signature."

  "This is Saturday,’’ said the Nambudiripad, "and you know very well, Thachu, that I never sign any paper on a Saturday. Then what do you mean by bothering me like this?"

  "Unless the document is presented and filed on Monday, the case will be decided against us."

  "I don’t care how it is decided," retorted the Nambudiripad. "Isn’t there a court of appeal ?"

  "But if the document is not filed, we shall fail in the appeal court," said Thachu Menon.

  "What a nuisance!" exclaimed Suri Nambudiripad. "The business was entrusted to you, and why do you come and worry me like this?"

  "But, your honour, can I sign the application and present it?" remonstrated Thachu Menon.

  "I won’t sign any application on a Saturday," said Suri Nambudiripad. "Don’t you remember that we lost a case because I signed the plaint on a Saturday?"

  "But this is not a plaint; it is an application," said Thachu Menon.

  "Whatever it is I won’t sign it today. I am determined on that," replied Suri Nambudiripad. "Go, have your bath, Thachu."

  "I rather think," said Thachu Menon, "that your honour will have to favour the court with your presence as a witness in this case."

  "What, I?" ejaculated Suri Nambudiripad.

  "Yes, sir," answered Thachu Menon.

  "Oh dear! Oh dear!" said Suri Nambudiripad. "I won’t go. I would rather lose the case. Has the order come for me to attend the court?’’

  "It came," said Thachu Menon, "but I had it returned with the endorsement that you were not present.’’

  "Who has had the impudence to call me as a witness?’’ asked Suri Nambudiripad.

  "It is in the suit against Ullattil Panchu Menon."

  "Ullattil Panchu Menon, is it ?" said Suri Nambudiripad "Gracious goodness! Have you filed a case against him?"

  "Yes, sir, to evict him from the Cherpatte farm."

  "Quite so, quite so," rejoined Suri Nambudiripad, "I forgot it for the moment. Didn’t you tell me the other day that that case was decided?"

  "No, your honour, I didn’t say anything of the kind. Panchu Menon has set up a freehold proprietary right, and claims four or five pieces of land which belong to this family".

  "Panchu, is it? What a scoundrel he is! I didn’t know it before," said Suri Nambudiripad. "Send a man to tell him to come here, and just let me ask the villain a question or two. If he shows any of his insolence, I’ll have him ostracised at once. Then he’ll come running here like a whipped puppy. You ought to have told me all this before, Thachu."

  "I don’t think, sir, there is any use in doing so," said Thachu Menon, "Panchu Menon has engaged a European barrister. "

  "Well, what of that? Let him come," said Suri Nambudiripad.

  "But he is very clever."

  "Then we must have a European too," said the Nambudiripad. "The cardamom hill lessee, McSharman, is the man. He and I are great chums, so be off, Thachu, and tell him all about the case."

  "But," represented Thachu Menon, "a forest contractor can’t possibly manage a suit like this."

  "Hold your tongue, Thachu, will you? If I choose to have the contractor-gentleman, what have you got to do with it?"

  "Certainly, sir, certainly;" said Thachu Menon. "Then I will go and arrange accordingly, sir. But unless your honour condescend to sign this application, the case will go against us on Monday."

  While the Nambudiripad and Thachu Menon were thus wrangling over the question of signing or not signing, and as their squabble reached its height, Narayanan Nambudiripad came out, and by dint of much persuasion at last induced his brother to affix his signature to the application. As soon as he had done this, Suri Nambudiripad, wondering why on earth Cherusheri had not arrived, betook himself to the loft over the gate, there to watch for the Nambudiri’s arrival and to gloat over the thought of Indulekha’s beauty. While he was thus engaged he saw Cherusheri Nambudiri and Govindan coming, and before they could ascend the steps he shouted out at the top of his voice, "Make haste, Cherusheri, make haste, come quick. Why are you walking so slow? Can’t you step out a bit? Don’t you want to hear the news? A letter has come from Chembhazhiyot from Karuthedam. Have you ever heard of Indulekha? Were you with me the other day when Podayapram was talking of her? No? Ah, then, she is a lovely creature, a regular Damayanti. I am going to form a union with her, but not in the old way at all. I shall bring her here with me. She knows English and a lot of other things; I have never yet come across a woman who knows English. And I hear she is beautiful, a regular Damayanti."

  As he wound up with these words, Cherusheri Nambudiri came near him and said, "In that case we must have a Nala, and here we have one in yourself."

  "Cherusheri!" explained the Nambudiripad, "enough of such nonsense. I am getting on in years, and this girl is only fifteen. What is there left in me of good looks? Put the matter aside and let us start."

  "Why put the matter aside?" said Cherusheri Nambudiri. "It is just the one we should discuss. As for being old at forty-five, at forty-five why should you lose the good looks you had at twenty? Don’t talk in this strain. It seems to me that until you are eighty, you will continue to cause a flutter among the women here. Then why should you speak like this?"

  "Have you ever seen lndulekha?" asked Nambudiripad. "Weren’t you there the other day, Cherusheri, with Karuthedam?"

  "Yes, I have seen Indulekha," answered Cherusheri Nambudiri.

  "Is she very pretty?"

  "She is a very pretty girl, indeed. I have never seen any one so pretty as she is."

  "But what is this some people say about her knowing English? " asked the Nambudripad. "Does she really know it?"

  "I have heard that she does," said Cherusheri.

  "If women study English, they cease to be clean, that is the evil of it," said the Nambudiripad.

  "On the contrary, I think that if they know English they become cleaner; at least this is what
I think after seeing lndulekha."

  "What’s this?" exclaimed the Namdudiripad, "are you intimate with Indulekha? Say so if you are; the intimacy began before I formed any union with her, and there is no harm in your saying so. Come, what is it? From what you tell me, it looks as if you are intimate with her. Is it so?"

  "How do you mean intimate?" asked Cherusheri.

  "I mean intimate with Indulekha," replied Nambudiripad.

  "Shame on you!" said Cherusheri. "I am not a man ever to go in for that kind of thing. Moreover, Indulekha is a very sensible girl, quite unlike the ordinary Nair ladies, as you will find if you go there. All the same, my dear Nambudiri, when she sees what a figure and personality you have, she will fall head over ears in love with you. She would never think of falling in love in the same way with any other man."

  "Ah, you flatter me, Cherusheri. what is there so particularly captivating about me? I don’t think there is anything really."

  "Quite right that you should think so, my dear Nambudiri, but surely you don’t expect me to agree with you!"

  "Have you ever seen Neelattu Lakshmi, Cherusheri?"

  "No."

  "Or Puzhayatt Paru?"

  "No."

  "But surely you have seen Koppattu Kummini. Weren’t you here the other day, Cherusheri, when she came and sang? Who is prettier, she or Indulekha?"

  "I didn’t see the face of the songstress well," said Cherusheri.

  "Never mind," said the Nambudiripad, "which is the most beautiful of all the women you have yet seen, Cherusheri?"

  "Indulekha".

  "Is there no doubt about it?"

  "None whatever."

  "Then I am in luck again," said the Nambudiripad.

  "Quite so."

  "Can a man find any greater happiness than pleasure from the favours of women?" asked the Nambudiripad.

  "Certainly not," replied Cherusheri, "provided he is sure that women’s favours bring the greatest happiness."