Ponna sat there, crying and retching.
‘Ponna . . . why are you crying? Now your future looks hopeful. When you have a child running around you, life becomes a little easier. Don’t worry,’ said Thorattu Paatti from Nonikkaadu, lifting Ponna’s face by her hand. That old woman had no children of her own. Her husband died when she was very young. She moved here to live in her brother’s home and had spent all her life here. Now this paatti too felt like crying when she looked at Ponna. She sang:
Even when you are draped in silk
when four palanquins wait on you
when you have gold to wear
even when you live well and well
if you don’t have a child
what’s the point, where’s the pride?
Where’s the joy of kith and kin?
Now a child has come
Ponna, your life
now has a point, now has its pride
it also has the joy of kith and kin.
Everybody laughed and rejoiced at paatti’s singing. Some made fun of her: ‘If you don’t stop her, she might gather people and start kummi dancing right here, right now!’ Wiping away Ponna’s tears with her fingers, Thorattu Paatti said, ‘I am the kind of person who prays that no one should have to endure the struggles I went through. I was quite sad thinking of you. Even when we have our siblings and relatives, there is nothing like having someone who is entirely ours, is there?’
A cheeky young fellow said, addressing Thorattu Paatti, but hiding his face in the crowd, ‘Paatti, I will go and say this to your brother’s grandson. Let me see what happens then.’
Thorattu Paatti replied, ‘Sure, go tell him gladly. Only I know what my struggles have been. What does he know?’ But seeing that Ponna could still not stop retching, Thorattu Paatti turned to Seerayi and said, ‘Pound a peppercorn and a little dried ginger into a powder, add some karuppatti, and make her drink the extract. All this retching will stop. Then prepare something for her to eat, something she is really fond of. This child is a belated arrival. Take very good care of her.’ Only after Thorattu Paatti spoke to her did Seerayi collect herself and find her bearings. She lit the fire in the stove with a few twigs. Vallayi felt a little embarrassed that she had not been quick to figure out why Ponna was feeling unwell.
Seerayi set a potful of water on the stove. She felt happy that so many people had gathered on hearing the good news. It would have been so much better if Kali had been here to celebrate this moment. But she was filled with so much joy that she did not dwell on that. ‘I came running, thinking something terrible has happened. I had just reached near the well when I heard her mother shouting to me. What was I to think! I completely panicked; Ponna has been languishing in his memory, what if she has done something to herself? Anybody would panic in such a situation. It is only natural, right? That’s why I yelled. I threw away the grass bundle right there and came rushing here, and that’s when I saw that she was feeling nauseated. That’s when I remembered that she had not had her menses since his death. I am delighted that god has given us some hope,’ said Seerayi as she opened the spice box. She found pepper there, but no dried ginger.
She said to Vallayi, ‘I had bought some dried ginger sometime ago. I think it is back home in the village. Valla, sister, please wash her face with some water and make her lie down on the cot. I will quickly run and get the dried ginger,’ and she trotted out of the barnyard.
Some people who saw her running down the alley remarked, ‘Look at Seerayi’s delight. She will become very busy from now on.’ Seerayi’s heart was definitely buoyant with joy. ‘Ponna is pregnant,’ she shared the news with them. But she did not say anything more to anyone. When she reached the village, some people asked her, ‘Seerayikka, is it true that your daughter-in-law is pregnant?’ She said, ‘Has the news already reached this far? Yes, it is true. We just found out today,’ and kept on walking. One woman asked, ‘How many months has it been? Seven or eight?’ Seerayi did not even stop to look at the woman’s face. She said, ‘Which cunning woman is that? If this was the seventh or the eighth month, wouldn’t we have known already? If that was the case, why would my son die such a gruesome death? This is like asking for cooking fuel from a house that is burning down. It was our bad time. God has chosen to show us some kindness only after Kali is no more. Think well of us.’ She kept running as she said this, and when she reached her house, she ran in, opened the spice box and picked out some dried ginger.
‘If anyone says anything cheeky, I will burn that tongue the way I am going to roast this piece of dried ginger. But then, this is our time of misfortune. It is only natural that those who are doing well will say whatever comes to their mind. We lose nothing by letting it all play out. All we need is for our bad time to run itself out,’ she said to herself. On her way back, she spoke a little to everyone she encountered on her path.
As she was passing the village’s common well, she came across Kaaraan standing there with a pot in his hand. When he saw her, he said, ‘Aaya, can you draw a pot of water for me, please?’
She said, ‘Of course,’ and obliged him. Then she said to him, ‘Kaaraan, my daughter-in-law, Ponna, is pregnant. We need to convey this to the in-laws in Adaiyur. Can you go?’
Kaaraan said, ‘You mean our landlady Ponna? Of course I can go. Let me drop off this pot of water at home first. Then I will go right away.’
‘Ponna’s family will be so happy that they are sure to reward you for bringing the news. You might even get a new dhoti. They will start and come over right away as soon as you give them the news. But you also formally invite them.’
‘Definitely,’ he said. ‘I will tell them to get the cart ready and head over here right away. It is just sad that Kali was not lucky enough to hear this news . . .’
That remark trailed in the air as Seerayi had already taken off towards the barnyard. She suddenly realized that she had forgotten to inform the midwife. The midwife lived at the other end of the village. If Seerayi went there now, she’d be delayed. So she decided to find someone else to fetch the midwife. As she walked on the path that led from the village out to the fields, she saw a woman walking towards her, her face concealed by the bundle of grass she was carrying on her head. Seerayi could not recognize her by her gait. But as the person came closer, she saw that it was Pongayi from Mosakkaadu.
She was a good woman; she never wished ill of others. She had taken good care of a husband who died drinking. Then she raised two daughters and a son all by herself. Pongayi had visited them in the barnyard just a few days ago, and she had cried, saying, ‘How terrible that things have happened this way. Is this all there is to human life?’
Seerayi stopped her and gave her the news. ‘Ponga, can you go tell the midwife to come right away, please?’
Ponga said, ‘You go and make the dried ginger potion for Ponna. I will go tell the midwife, it is only a little out of my way. Even if the man is not at home, the midwife will certainly be. She will come right away. You know Ponna is pregnant, but you will feel much better if the midwife herself says it. I will tell her, don’t worry.’
Seerayi walked on with a new strength in her heart, and a gentle breeze brushed past her like the touch of a flower.
FOURTEEN
Ponna lay down on the cot. Now she felt absolutely certain. Kali had definitely paid her a visit the night before. He had spent a lot of time with her. And he had placed this new life within her. As long as he had been alive, he could not accomplish that. But now he had. He had given up his life just so he could solve Ponna’s problem. He had done that just for her good. She could now recollect all the words he had spoken to her before sending her into a sleepy haze. Even now, she could hear his voice, and it made her dizzy. ‘I am here to give you what you want.’ And he had. What day was it yesterday? Thursday. Kali had died on a Thursday. It was exactly two months since he died. The beginning of the third month.
He was not angry with her. He wanted to only help her out. She thought aga
in about the night before. She could recollect the feeling of being immersed in great pleasure, the kind of pleasure she had not experienced ever before. She could recall that feeling even now. This retching was the result of that. Kali was like an expert magician who could manipulate what people could see. ‘Maama,’ she moaned. ‘All right, you are within me now. I am not going to let go of you. But please don’t be born as a male child. Your grandfather did not live long. Nor did your father. Nor you. Give me a girl child. I will raise her well and make your name proud. She will lie on my lap just like you used to. I will give her these breasts to feed from. Let the family’s curse end with you. If it is a male child, then a girl like me would have to marry him and struggle just the way I am struggling now. I don’t want that. You promised to give me what I want. This is what I want.’ Ponna was muttering all this in her dizziness.
Most of the women who had come to the barnyard to see Ponna had left by then, after remarking that all would now be well for Ponna. Only a few elderly women who had come to gather some greens from the fields now lingered about. Seeing Seerayi rushing back into the barnyard, one of them asked, ‘Were you able to find some dried ginger, Seerayi?’
‘Yes, aaya, I always keep these things in the spice box. After all, if we need something like this urgently, where can we go looking? It is good to have some handy,’ said Seerayi as she pounded and powdered a piece of dried ginger and dropped it into some boiling water. She took out some karuppatti that she was carrying in a fold in her sari, broke it down with the head of a churner, and added that to the water as well. The fire had gone out. So she put in a dried palmyra and blew towards the stove to rekindle the fire.
Looking at Vallayi, she asked, ‘So, what is your daughter saying?’
‘My daughter?’ replied Vallayi. ‘She is your daughter-in-law. You pamper her. She is lying in a daze. I am worried about how she is going to find her bearings and come out of this state.’
Seerayi said, ‘You are the mother. Stay by her, feed her tasty and tangy meat, and help her regain strength.’ She filtered out the ginger extract after smelling the fragrance to make sure it was ready. Then she poured it back and forth between the pot and its lid to cool it down. Handing it over to Vallayi, she said, ‘Go, give this to her. I have not made it into a potion. More like dried-ginger tea. And it is just the right temperature. It will be good for the throat. I will use the same fire and put some rice to boil. That’s what she would like to eat now. We can make some watery lentils without any seasoning. She will be able to drink that.’
Vallayi helped Ponna sit up and managed to have her drink the ginger extract sip by sip. After just two sips, Ponna burped loudly.
Thena Paatti, who was sitting outside, said, ‘Yes, it will make you burp. Drink slowly, in small sips.’ She then addressed Seerayi, ‘Hey, Seera, the period of mourning is not over yet, is it? Then how can you cook rice?’
Seerayi had been expecting this question, so she was ready with the reply: ‘This is the farmstead, isn’t it, aaya? We are not supposed to cook rice inside the house. It should be all right to do so here in the barnyard. For two months now, we have just been camping here like nomads, cooking and eating right here. We haven’t even lit the stove back home. On the day the period of blockage is over and we go to the hill temple, we can clean the house properly and do everything ritually right. But for now, I can cook for her here. Look at her suffering. She will feel better only if she can eat something she likes. All these observances are things we decide, aren’t they? What do you feel? Do you agree, Thorattu Paatti?’ She roped in the other woman for support.
‘Yes,’ the woman agreed. ‘What’s the big deal? Cooking rice here now is just the same as cooking it in someone else’s house and bringing it here. Go ahead and make her some rice, Seerayi. If Kali objects to it, let him come and say so.’
The elderly women were all sitting in the shade of the portia tree. Thorattu Paatti took out her waist pouch. Looking at the pouch, Thena Paatti made fun of her. ‘You never let that bag get too far from your waist. Looks like you have told everyone they can touch that pouch only after you are dead, and use the money for your final rites! It seems to have quite a lot in it. See how swollen it is!’
Thorattu Paatti rejoindered, ‘All I have in it is some betel leaves and tobacco. And some lime paste. You can take a look if you want,’ and she pulled out the pouch’s contents. All of them partook of the betel leaves.
Seerayi was listening to their banter while she cooked. Ponna drank very little of the lentil-rice meal Seerayi made for her, but she felt better after that minor replenishment. By then, Thangayi, the midwife, walked in, remarking, ‘All of you elders are gathered here. I wondered if someone has died.’
Thorattu Paatti retorted, ‘Well, you will certainly be glad if something big and bad had happened, won’t you?’
And Thangayi replied, ‘Yes. The four of you must be over eighty years old. I am waiting for at least one of you to drop dead, so that I can enjoy some feasts for a few days. But it does not seem to happen.’
One of the elders said, ‘Your husband makes money shaving people. Isn’t that enough for you? You want to live off people dying too?’
Thangayi carried on as if she did not hear that remark at all: ‘Hale and healthy people like our Kali end up dying young. But nothing seems to happen to the old and worn-out ones. Sure, go ahead and live on till you are a hundred.’
‘Why don’t you give us some poison and kill us? We will be happy to go,’ said Thorattu Paatti.
They all knew that Thangayi always teased people this way. She never said anything that really upset anyone. She was the midwife for the entire village. She treated all the women, and she also took care of the deliveries. Even though her husband’s main job was as a barber, he also worked as a medic for the men. They got a total annual payment for all their services. Thangayi now lifted Ponna’s right hand and felt her pulse. ‘Kali’s life has now blossomed inside her. It is confirmed. Tomorrow morning, I will give her four balls of herbal medicine. She should eat it once a day for four days. All this retching will stop,’ she said. Ponna smiled at her weakly. Thangayi continued, adding her good wishes, ‘There is a smile on her face. Everything will go well; she will deliver a good, healthy child. This family will flourish and grow stronger; a little one will play around here and prosper.’ Vallayi brought one measure, about eight cups, of kambu millets and poured it into the waist fold of Thangayi’s sari. The midwife secured it carefully and then stepped outside the hut.
Thorattu Paatti now said to her, ‘You talk too much these days. We should ask your husband to cut off your tongue a little.’
‘That is not going to happen,’ another woman interjected. ‘He worships her.’
‘Oh, is that so? How does he pray? On his knees or fully lying down?’
‘He does it standing up,’ Thangayi replied. ‘Look at the things these old ones say!’
‘Be careful, woman. The man walks around with a knife in his hand.’
‘But Thangayi has the stone on which he can sharpen his knife,’ said another bawdily.
All these elderly women, these paattis, were having a lot of fun and laughter with this banter.
Thangayi then said to Thorattu Paatti, ‘Can I have some betel leaves?’ The old woman pulled out her waist pouch again. ‘This old woman is so reluctant to open that pouch!’
But Thorattu Paatti didn’t let that remark go. She said, ‘Right. All I have is this waist purse. You clearly have a golden pouch, which you are quick to open and share,’ and gave Thangayi half a betel leaf and a nut.
‘Why can’t you give me a full leaf? What will you lose? How is this enough?’
And Thorattu Paatti said, ‘Our betel leaves cannot satisfy a mouth, can they?’
‘I can never win talking to you,’ said Thangayi. ‘Give me some lime. I will get going. I have a lot of work to do.’
Another paatti said, ‘Take that betel leaf safely back home and ask your husband for so
me white-lime paste.’
‘Yes, yes, I know. I am so glad to see all of you sitting here, chatting happily. May this happiness last,’ she wished wholeheartedly.
When Thorattu Paatti said ‘Happy, happy midwife’ in a sing-song tone, all the other women joined in and clapped their hands in the kummi fashion.
Happy, happy midwife,
is that the sound of ankle bells, oh midwife?
We hear the jiggling of kambu millets, oh midwife,
do add some jaggery to it, oh midwife,
make sure you close the door, oh midwife
crush it carefully, oh midwife.
Thangayi ran away, saying, ‘These old women won’t stop teasing me today. I am off!’ Someone lewdly commented, ‘Hey! Be careful, hold on to the kambu properly’—she was punning on the other meaning of ‘kambu’—a pole. But Thangayi did not even respond to that before leaving.
The scent of boiling rice wafted out. Seerayi was cooking lentils on the other stove. She now said to Vallayi, ‘Sister, these paattis have grown tired with all the singing. Dilute some of the kambu millets for them. Let them drink some and take rest. It is midday already.’
One of the paattis said, ‘If you have some curd, do make some buttermilk for us. There is no time now to go home for lunch. We will just drink some here, lie down for a bit under the portia tree and leave in the evening.’
Seerayi replied, ‘Why not? You can also stay the night if you want to. I will lay two cots under the tree for you.’
‘But your son sits on this portia tree.’
‘Let him sit on the tree, that stupid fellow. You can be in the shade. Is he going to claim the shade too?’
‘What can he do to us? If he takes us, we will go with him happily. Why do we need to go on living, burdening this earth?’
Before Vallayi could dilute the millets for the women, Seerayi had finished cooking the lentils and churned them properly into an easily digestible broth. She put some rice and lentils on a plate and took it to Ponna. When Ponna took the plate from Seerayi and set it down on her lap, the fragrance from the hot food rose to her nose.
A Lonely Harvest Page 9