Meanwhile, Ponna entered the hut and lay down on the cot, her mind swarming with thoughts.
TWENTY-FOUR
Muthu served everyone panagam made with dried ginger and sweetened with karuppatti. Some drank a little in their small cups, while others poured more into their carriers, perhaps to take some home for the elderly and the children who could not come to the meeting. Muthu had anticipated this, so he had made an entire pot of panagam. He had also kept aside some karuppatti in the basket, and also two pots of water, just in case he needed to make more panagam. He had brought his wife from his village well before dawn and got everything ready. The meeting was to take place in an open space in front of the village temple. Stones had been laid under the neem tree. Everyone drank some panagam and sat waiting on these stones, gossiping.
The washerman had spread two white dhotis side by side, and the barber had placed coconuts and fruits on them. Ponna sat in a corner with the other women. Vallayi and Muthu’s wife, Poovayi, sat next to her. Several women had gathered for the event. Apart from the people who had come on Seerayi’s invitation, there were many others who had come uninvited, because they had not witnessed such a ceremony in a long time and were curious to know how it was conducted. Thorattu Paatti was there, sitting with her legs stretched out. She had made some remark about such a ritual happening two generations ago, and this had led to questions from the cluster of women as to who it was and what had happened. Washermen stood here and there, carrying flaming torches, and some people beckoned to them to light up the areas where the people were planning to sit, to see if those spots were clean.
Seerayi looked around to see who among the kinsmen had come to the meeting, noting with satisfaction that there were one or two representatives from nearly all the families she had called. Even Seerayi’s two younger brothers were there. A lot of people had arrived from far away, so there was a good deal of greetings and chatter. But Seerayi noticed that Nallayyan was not there. She wondered if he had already left town—or, more worryingly, if his brother and nephews had acted upon their threats and beaten him up. But she calmed herself, hoping that nothing of that sort had happened.
The village headman—who had been standing about talking to various people and drinking panagam—now came to the front of the gathering, and asked, ‘Has everyone had some panagam to drink?’
To this, Kannaan from Thekkankaadu replied in jest, ‘Everyone has drunk panagam to their stomach’s content, and they are all now looking for a place to pee. In a little while, the entire village square is going to stink.’
Kannaan was a young fellow, but he was known for his sarcasm. The village leader now said, ‘Who was that? It sounds like we have another Nallayyan among us!’
Kannaan replied, ‘Yes! I want to go with him to the markets and fairs and find a heifer, but I am not able to catch hold of him.’
Everyone laughed.
‘Couldn’t you find a heifer right here?’ someone asked.
‘Here they are all old and shrivelled,’ responded Kannaan.
‘There is one like him in every generation,’ said the headman. ‘But how come Nallayyan is not here? Seerayi, did you inform him about the meeting?’
But someone else replied for her, ‘Yes, yes, he has been informed, but he might have gone out of town.’
Everyone now fondly thought of Nallayyan, muttering among themselves, ‘These village meetings are fun only when he is here.’
Listening to all the light-hearted banter, Seerayi felt a little comforted. Things might go smoothly after all.
The headman now said, ‘All right. Let us begin. I hope everyone knows what this meeting is for. This is a matter primarily to do with women. That is why we have a lot of women gathered here. Usually, it is not in our custom to invite women to our village meetings. But this meeting involves a ritual, and that is why everyone is here. This is a good, full crowd. I hope the matter will be settled to the satisfaction of the people involved.’ Then he addressed the barber and said, ‘You can get started now.’
Someone from the crowd said, ‘If we let women come to the village meeting, they might reveal all the dirty secrets of the men here!’
‘I was just speaking about the custom,’ intoned the headman. ‘Let us not dwell on other trivialities any further. All right, let’s begin.’
Someone brought a flame torch close to the place where the dhoti had been laid on the ground. The barber took some cow dung and moulded it into the deity. He broke open a coconut and immersed it in a pitcher full of water. He then placed in front of the deity a bowl containing a ball of rice, and asked for Ponna to be brought to that spot. Once she came and stood in front of the deity, he asked her to dip her hand into the water in the pitcher and sprinkle it around the spot. After that, he gave her three little balls of red-coloured rice and asked her to wave each of them in a circle around the deity before throwing them in three different directions. When he asked her to face the gathering and pay her respects, she lifted her head slightly and brought her palms together in a sign of respect. He then told her to go sit to a side, and he started speaking in a loud voice.
‘Saami,’ he said, loud enough for everyone to be able to hear, ‘my respects to this gathering of elders, younger folk as well as older and younger women. The reason we have called for this meeting is, three months and eight days ago, on the twenty-second day of the month of Maasi, on a Thursday, early in the morning, the son of Thangasami and Seerayi from Periyakkaadu and the husband of Ponnayi ended his own life. Three months after that, Ponnayi experienced severe retching and dizzy spells, and the village midwife felt her pulse and declared that she was with child. We are in the fourth month now. The calculation of the number might be wrong by ten or fifteen days, saami. Ponnayi now stands in front of the entire village to declare that the child growing inside her is very much her husband’s, and that it is the fourth month now, and she has cast three balls of rice around the deity. The foetus growing inside her will take Kali’s name. The sun and moon over us bear witness to this, saami. Kinsmen from the families have come here from near and far—uncles, brothers-in-law and all other relatives. They have all accepted that the foetus within Ponnayi is Kali’s. Even those relatives who could not make it to the meeting today, who are from the village and from other villages, have accepted this fact. Therefore, this village too should accept it, saami.’
He then stepped back a little.
A voice from the crowd suddenly said, ‘It would be nice if all women come and make such a declaration.’
Then Thorattu Paatti, the elder, retorted, ‘Why don’t all of you men come in front of the village and swear that you have slept only with your own wives?’ This created some excited chatter among the women.
The village headman intervened immediately and said, ‘The barber has not finished the ritual yet. So everyone keep quiet now. You can talk among yourselves once the meeting is over. This girl here has lost her husband, and she has not fully recovered from that yet. We should not hurt her in any way. So please be quiet.’ He then looked at the barber and said, ‘Why did you stop? Go ahead, continue.’
The man resumed speaking right away, ‘Saami, no one should speak words of blame, words of suspicion, words of insinuation, words of insult against our Ponna.’
A voice from the crowd slyly said, ‘Will the child be born in ten months?’
Nobody could determine whose voice it was. But the headman said, ‘Isn’t that how long it takes usually for a child to be born? Who questions that? When one person among us faces a difficult situation, it amounts to a difficulty for all of us. They did not have a child for twelve years into their marriage, and Kali killed himself. We now have to make sure no one casts any aspersions on his wife, Ponna. If anyone speaks any such words against her, and if it comes to our attention, they will be punished. A situation like this befalls a woman so very rarely. Somehow, it has occurred now in our times. No one should ever face such a situation in the future. All right, now the village has acce
pted it. We can all disperse now. Those who didn’t get to drink panagam earlier can drink some now before you leave.’ And with that he brought the meeting to a close.
The barber returned the wide plate to Ponna after taking the fruits and coconut from it. He then said, ‘Please give me my payment.’ Immediately, Muthu went to the village headman and gave him the required amount. The headman then divided it between the barber and the washerman. A portion of the crowd walked up to the panagam pot. Others drifted away, talking among themselves. Seerayi invited the visiting relatives to her house, requesting them to stay for the night. Food had been cooked for all the relatives. Seerayi walked towards her house with all those relatives who had decided to stay the night.
Ponna had not lifted her head up the entire time.
TWENTY-FIVE
Ponna slowly adjusted to the natural rhythms of the changes occurring in her body. She was now able to deal with the myriad ways in which she felt every day: the difficulty she experienced getting up in the morning; the dullness and stupor that engulfed her even after she did manage to get up; and the dizziness and groundlessness and the need for stability that her body felt—everything. She dealt with each of these symptoms in its own way, without getting anxious. Now that Vengayi was coming in to work every day, Ponna even told her mother that she could go home. But her mother decided to stay put until the period of mourning was over.
Each of the four women had their own set of tasks every day. Vallayi took charge of cooking, washing dishes, fetching water from the well and other such household chores, and she did them at her own steady pace. Seerayi took the cattle out for grazing, tied them out in the pasture and fetched grass for their feed. She brought one bundle every day without fail. Some days, if she found other edible creepers and varieties of grass, she would bring another bundle. The rest of her time was spent herding the sheep.
Ponna supervised Vengayi’s work in the fields. Only now, after all these years, was Ponna really getting the knack of all this work in the fields. In the twelve years since she got married and came over to live here, this place had been under Kali’s control. Whenever she would go over to the fields, she would primarily engage in those tasks that she took pleasure in. Or else, she would carry out the specific chores that Kali had given her. But now it felt like she was getting used to everything afresh. Each time she gained proficiency in a particular task, she felt as though Kali had risen before her, as tall as a palmyra tree, and was smiling at her. She simplified some tasks to suit her pace. She asked Vengayi to place two large-mouthed earthen pots near the well. Each of those could hold two usual pots of water. If one could draw water from the well and fill these large pots, the bullocks would be able to drink water right there. Since they were taken to graze in the uncultivated field and the space between the other fields nearby, this would be a convenient spot to give them water. Otherwise, fetching water from this well all the way to the barnyard would be a massive task. Perhaps they might be able to carry two or three pots of water at the most. But after that, it would become far too exhausting. When Kali had been around, the very first things he did in the morning had been to clear away the cattle refuse and then bring water from the well. But only he could work at that efficient speed and pace. Ponna had also placed a large vessel for water near the weir, so that it too could be filled with the water drawn directly from the well. She even kept a mug nearby so that they could wash themselves right there. Usually, the three women at the farmstead would bathe only at dusk. But even if they had wanted to bathe during the day, there would have been no problem since there were no men around.
Ponna also set aside a separate pot that Vengayi could use to carry water. The issue was that Vengayi was not allowed to draw water from the well. But if someone else drew water, she could carry it in pots and fill the tubs in the barnyard. Whenever they used the picotah to irrigate from the well, all these various pots and tubs could be filled. In this way, Ponna came up with ways to make these chores easier. She was wonderstruck now, realizing just how many pots of water Kali must have drawn from the well every single day. And he had never complained about it. Perhaps it had not felt like a big task to him. She also set the sheep enclosure out closer to the fields but in such a way that they could still keep an eye on it from the barnyard. She let out the dog on a chain leash and tethered it right outside the sheepfold. She had already told Sengaan to bring a puppy which they could raise in the barnyard. But dogs usually got pregnant in the month of Purattasi and gave birth to their litters later. They would have to wait till then.
Since they had planted something or other in all the fields, she could not shift the cattle floor any further. And the task of cleaning the floor fell to Vengayi. Maize was growing lush in the fields. In just three months, once the maize was harvested, they could shift the cattle anywhere they wanted. It looked like they were all going to live mainly in the barnyard for a while. If they moved to the house in the village, who would watch over the cattle and the sheep? Ponna thought of living in the barnyard as akin to being nestled in Kali’s embrace. She felt that she could not bring herself to be away from this place. They could use the house in the village to store utensils, dry pulses, big pots and so on. And they could go there once a month to sweep and clean the place. The hut in the barnyard had no wall. Kali had used it as a storage space. Now if they planned to live there, they’d need a wall around it.
Ponna thought it might be a good idea to build another shed where they could store additional things. The next time Muthu came around, Ponna talked to him about it—the first time she had spoken to Muthu since Kali’s death. He had come to irrigate the brinjal bed and to see when they could sow ragi. By the time he had finished with his tasks, it had grown dark. So Ponna said to her mother, ‘Ask my brother to stay here for the night. There is some more work to do. He can leave in the morning.’ Her mother was delighted to hear her say that. And so was Muthu.
Muthu brought the bullocks back from the field and tied them up for the night. He kept fodder ready for them by pulling out stover from the bundles. Whatever was left over after the cattle had eaten, he piled up aside. Kali had never wasted even these leftover scraps of cattle feed. He would dry the leftover grass in the sun and then bundle them up. Cows munched on them in the summer. Muthu found it impossible to avoid thinking of Kali while working in the barnyard—each and every little task would prompt some memory or other. He wondered how Ponna was managing. Muthu cursed himself from time to time for ruining their little love nest. Now, after having completed all his tasks for the day, he sat down on the cot and ate his dinner. Vallayi had cooked a little extra rice than she usually made for Ponna. She had also cooked some horse gram. And since she knew Muthu liked it spicy, she had added an extra chilli pepper to the mix. Usually, Muthu never kept quiet while eating. He always had some opinion to offer—a word of praise or some complaint. But today, he finished eating in silence. Ponna emerged right then from the hut as if she had just been waiting for him to finish his dinner. It was very dark. They could sense each other’s movements, but it was the kind of darkness in which they could not see each other’s face clearly.
‘We need to build a wall for this hut,’ she began, without addressing him in particular, as if she was making a general remark. ‘Only then can we really stay here. Apart from that, all we need is a little shed in a corner of the barnyard. We can store the spade, crowbar and all those implements there. It will be nice if you can find someone to get those things done.’
‘We can get that done,’ he replied. ‘But why suffer this hardship? There are still six or seven months for the child to be born. You could go live back home in the village for about seven or nine months after that. I can come regularly and take care of the field and the cattle during that time.’
‘I am not going anywhere. He might be dead for other people. But not for me. He is right here in this barnyard and in the field. He is watching over everything that I am doing, and he is right here with me. Even now, he is sitti
ng on the portia tree and staring at me. I can see just his two eyes shining down at me like stars in the sky. I will do the tasks I can manage to do. If I am not able to do something, I am sure he will show up in some form to help me. Just like he sent Vengayi to help me out. I am only happy when I am with him. I know I will suffer terribly if I go anywhere else.’
Muthu did not say anything in response. He sat silently, looking down. Then he said, ‘I will bring thatched panels and everything else that we will need. To build a wall, we need bricks and riverbed sand. I will bring these on the cart in multiple trips.’
Ponna said nothing. She simply went into the hut and lay down. Muthu could not sleep. And none of them knew at what time he eventually left. The next morning, Ponna glanced around the barnyard. Other than the rocks they used to weigh down the cattle fodder, she saw ten to twenty more lying strewn about here and there and by the fence. She asked Vengayi to pick these rocks up and keep them in the empty space behind the hut. It came to a small pile. If she could make three or four such piles, they would have enough rocks to lay the foundation for the wall.
There were some granite rocks lying in the area around the well. These were rocks that had been dug out of the well long ago. Kali had used some of these rocks to dam the water flowing from the weir to the water channel. Whichever of those stones could be lifted up, Ponna made sure they were brought to the pile behind the hut. As she walked around the fields, her eyes picked out the rocks that could be of use. On the field boundaries, by the fence, along the water channel—everywhere, rocks presented themselves to her. They had been lying right there all this while, but she had not noticed them before. Only when we become conscious of something does it make itself visible to us. Until then, even if it is right in front of us, we would never become aware of its existence. Ponna was amazed at the various shapes of the rocks she found. Mostly, she found black granite and a kind of quartz. But she also found a few riverbed rocks that could break easily.
A Lonely Harvest Page 15