Seerayi said, ‘You carry on. It is late for us. I have to take Ponna back to the village.’
Nallayyan Uncle teased Ponna, ‘It looks like the pregnant girl has lost her power of speech. She has not spoken a word. The wife has become just like her husband.’ Then he said to Kali, ‘You go with them for company. I can be alone here for a little while.’
Kali did not know what to say to that, but Seerayi had been waiting for such a moment. She said to him, ‘Can you come with us?’ And since he did not want Nallayyan Uncle to get upset with him, Kali set off with Seerayi and Ponna.
TWENTY-ONE
While Kali accompanied the women to the house in the village, Nallayyan Uncle chopped up the sugar cane, fed the sheath to the cows and chewed on the juicy pieces. Kali walked in front, carrying the pot of pongal on his head. Ponna walked right behind him. Seerayi was at the end, talking non-stop about Nallayyan. Kali and Ponna did not speak a word.
‘He has been with several women,’ prattled Seerayi. ‘He has absolutely no sense of discernment when it comes to women. He will go with just about anyone. But I have to applaud this plan of his to marry a widow now. How many men are willing to do something like that? There are men who doubt their wives even if they see them speaking to other men. He is definitely large-hearted to consider this. I wish him well. He should marry her, bring her here, and live well in this village . . .’
Kali felt that her speech was for his benefit. This had become a routine. No matter what she talked about, Kali had come to see it as indirectly intended for him—it was her way of giving him advice. And that was true in a way. Those were, indeed, Seerayi’s intentions most of the time.
‘Did you hear what he said?’ she continued. ‘He said, “She was married to one man. In what way is she inferior to men who have gone to a thousand women?” That’s where he revealed his character. His brothers are sending their wives to him! What kind of men they must be! They might even eat shit if that assured them the property. But let me tell you, no matter how prosperously they live, they are not equal even to the dust under his feet.’
Kali could not help but feel that she was trying to make a point to him. He thought about all that on his way back to the barnyard, where he found that Nallayyan Uncle had already chewed and spat four or five pieces of sugar cane. Kali sat down next to him and picked up a piece for himself.
‘Are you really going to marry that woman, Uncle?’
Nallayyan replied, ‘I am considering it. I cannot live peacefully in this village any longer. My brothers won’t let me. They will constantly find ways to make my life miserable. They will do anything for money. If they hack me to death at night, bury me in the fields, do some ploughing and plant something on the field the very next day, will anyone come to find out what happened to me? People like you might just think that I was out on my travels. Then a little later, they will tell you all that I died in a faraway land and perform some kind of death ritual and divvy up my share of inheritance among themselves. Why should I let that happen? Besides, I am not young any more. I don’t have the same energy. All these years, I have wandered everywhere and encountered all kinds of people. From now on, I just want to stay in one place . . . Let’s say I live for another twenty years. I can spend those years as happily as I have spent these past years. It is true that there are still women who could come to me if I just call them. But I won’t have the energy for all this in the future. My brothers won’t leave me in peace. They’d constantly harass me. You should see how my brothers’ sons look at me. With so much hatred. As if I had somehow appropriated the wealth that ought to have gone to them.’
Kali had a difficult time believing this change in his uncle. He said, ‘Are you really going to get married at this advanced age? Or is this one of those stories you entertain us with?’ He was both amazed at and unsure of his uncle’s decision.
But Nallayyan said, ‘Kaliyappa, do you think of the stuff I tell you as mere stories? It is all true. I told you all that my brothers’ wives came to me and bared their breasts, didn’t I? In fact, I did not reveal everything. I didn’t want to be indelicate since your mother and wife were present. Let me tell you what really happened. One of the wives came to me at night and lay down on the cot with me. She said, “I will do whatever you want. Let us go and transfer the property to my sons’ names first thing in the morning.” Do you believe that? I admit that I am a womanizer, but have I ever forced any woman to be with me, have I ever used force? I go with them if they say yes. If they say no, I go my way. I only bring and keep with me women who are like me, who are on their own and have no families. All this does not mean those brothers of mine can send their wives to me as a means to take away my inheritance. I have seen all sorts of things in the world, but this was the first time I was seeing husbands and sons pimping together. That’s when I left town. I have been roaming around from village to village. In the meantime, they have divided my land among themselves and have sowed maize. When I asked them about it, they said they did not want to let the land lie waste. If I spent the night in my own house, they will definitely kill me. That’s why I have been looking for someone to marry and have finally found this woman. One of her brothers knows me very well. He says to me, “Just say yes to marrying her. I will help you deal with anyone, no matter how powerful he is.” So I have decided to marry her. But I need your help.’
‘Me?’ said Kali. ‘How can I help you? I am overwhelmed by my own problems here.’
‘You don’t have to do anything. Just stand by me, let the village know you are on my side. Then the woman’s brothers will handle everything else. I can marry her and bring her here in just two days.’
‘But if we do that, they will call a meeting in the village and excommunicate you. They will do that to me too.’
‘Let me see who dares to do that in the village. The woman’s brothers are not only worldly-wise, they are also quite influential. They can even speak to the revenue authority and arrange for their enemies to be locked up in jail. We can even make sure no village council meeting happens on this matter. Who will demand a meeting? Only my brothers. Let me marry her and bring her here. Her brothers will stay here for a month or two after that. And if my brothers protest, we could set these fellows upon them. Then who will dare to talk? Do you know this man called Rangan in Karattur? He controls a lot of rowdies. This woman’s brothers can even send for some of those thugs. They can break legs and arms, and they can also kill. They can do everything. Don’t you worry about anything. If you love me and if you are bold enough, come with me and stand by me. If you are a coward, stay here in the barnyard. I won’t say anything further.’
Kali was quiet. He felt that his uncle had put him in a tight spot. Kali had never got involved in such matters before. These were usually part of Muthu’s repertoire, but things were such that Kali could not seek Muthu’s help now—even though Muthu would have had the best advice on such matters. Kali bit into the bitter edge of the sugar cane by mistake, and its sharp taste now spread in his mouth. How long could Kali stay silent? Nallayyan Uncle was planning to get married. He was considering becoming a family man. No one else would come forward to offer their girl in marriage to a man of his age. He could only marry the kind of woman he had now found. And he was worried his brothers might kill him. His plan sounded fair to Kali. What could go wrong in lending Uncle his support?
‘What are you thinking about, Kali? I knew you would turn out to be useless. You will think about things endlessly and just huddle up inside yourself. You have no idea how the world works. There is a woman to whom I want to transfer all my wealth if only she would say yes. Then I don’t have to worry about marriage and all that. But she has declined. Do you know where I have been these past three or four months?’
Kali set aside his thoughts, and said, ‘Where were you, Uncle?’
‘I lived with a family that herds pigs. They are foragers. Raising and herding pigs is their occupation. They would take their pigs to a certain place,
and raise them there for a while. Then they would move on. Just the way we herd sheep. If they find a place that had a lake or a pond, they’d set up a hut and stay there a little longer. I lived with such a family. It is a great life, you know. We are not lucky enough to experience such a life. I knew the husband from before. I had met him in the market when he sold pig’s meat there. His wife fried the meat right there. For a price, she made excellent fried meat. You can eat it with rice or just as it is. She cooks it so well. But how will you know? You never go anywhere. The Thursday market is not only about the official market. There are stalls in the various streets and gullies outside the market area. Do you know there is a particular spot where they only sell pork? Every week, they have some twenty stalls. I have run into this family in various markets. I always bought some meat from them. I don’t know how it happened, but one day he said to me in the market, “Saami . . . do you want to come to my house?” I wondered what it was about. He said, “I have five children. I am not able to have sex with my wife like I used to. Poor thing, she is struggling. I thought I could find the right man and take him to her. I have been observing you for some time now. You seem to be a good man. Come and stay with us for ten days.” I was completely taken aback!’
‘Uncle, my ears have already been pierced! You can’t sell that story to me.’
‘Ey! If you think I am lying, come with me. They have their stall right now in Sennaankuttai. They have ten pigs and some thirty or forty piglets. I will take you there, and you can verify the story yourself. Even you will desire her once you see her. But she won’t go with men like you, let me tell you. She liked me. I went there with the idea of spending just ten days with them, but I ended up staying for four or five months. I liked her so much. He’d leave us inside the hut and quietly sit by himself outside. One day I asked him, “Doesn’t it bother you seeing your wife with another man?” And he said, “What do you mean? Why should it upset me?” I said, “You pig of a man! When I am sleeping with your wife inside the hut, what goes on in your mind?” He said, “I think she should be happy.” I wanted to write my property over to her. I said, “Keep the property. Your entire family can come and live there. I have a house and some fields. You can herd your pigs there. Or we can do some farming. All I need is some food to eat.” But she refused: “What do I need property for? The pigs are enough for me. We are used to wandering from town to town, relying on the kindness of others for our food. We are not supposed to stay put in one place.” But one thing came out of this. I learnt to herd pigs. If you call out “bababa . . . baba” they come running to you faster than little lambs. They are such affectionate creatures, pigs. Once I get married, I plan to raise five or six pigs on my farm.’
Kali was utterly confused by all this. He did not know if he should believe any of it.
TWENTY-TWO
Kali had always had his doubts about Nallayyan Uncle’s narratives. He suspected more than half of them to be lies. He had always thought things couldn’t quite be the way his uncle portrayed them, that he was just trying to paint himself as more adventurous than he really was. But if the world was indeed the way Nallayyan described it, were things right or wrong? When he asked his uncle about it once, Nallayyan said, ‘Who are we to decide right and wrong? Something that seemed right to your father now seems wrong to you. And what seems right to you now will seem wrong to your son in the future. These are all big questions. You just do your thing and keep moving.’
On that night too, his uncle had warmed up and was eager to tell more stories. ‘Do you know of the big landlord in Semmur?’ Nallayyan asked. Kali replied that he had heard of the man. He had never been to Semmur himself, but he had heard that the family owned a palatial house and lots of land. He had also heard that they owned several horses. Fixing Kali with his gaze, Nallayyan Uncle pointedly asked, ‘Did you know that one of our children is growing up in that family?’ He could not see Kali’s face clearly, but he was hoping this piece of news would shock and scandalize him.
The feudal lord from Semmur owned several villages. In each village, he appointed his relatives and their families to oversee the management of these lands. One such family lived in Vellur. The man of the house was a cousin to the feudal lord, on his father’s side. He was in charge of five or six villages. He was immensely wealthy and was a bit of a show-off. He travelled everywhere in a horse-drawn cart. And he got off the cart wherever he felt like and wandered around on foot wherever he pleased. People who recognized him would rise and pay their respects as soon as they saw him, but he would keep walking as though he did not notice them at all. One could even spot him in the markets and streets. Sometimes he’d sit down and chat with the astrologers who had parrots pick the cards. He even sat with the man who played the small double-drum and sang folk tunes, and sold songbooks. He ate both pork and beef.
Once, Nallayyan Uncle was staying at the Mondichattiram rest house that was near Mollur. This man, the Vellur landlord, arrived there and stayed for a night. Nallayyan Uncle recognized the man, but neither the staff at the rest house nor the other guests knew who he was. When Nallayyan had got up and bowed to the landlord, the man told him firmly that his identity must not be revealed to anyone there. At night, they both lay on the rest-house porch and chatted about this and that. Then they strolled on the road in the moonlight. The man said, ‘Everyone wants the white man to leave. But look here—without the white man, we wouldn’t have this road. He has also given us trains to go from anywhere to anywhere. They say there are even ships that traverse the skies. If the white man weren’t here, our people would fight among themselves and die.’
Nallayyan Uncle did not want to argue with him, so he just said, ‘That’s true, sir.’
Then the man said, ‘I really like walking like this in the moonlight. Also, not even heaven can compare to the rest-house porch, let me tell you.’
Nallayyan Uncle nodded in agreement to that too. But he asked the man, ‘You have all the comfort you need at home. Then why do you come out here and suffer through this?’
The man replied, ‘There is so much more to this world than we know. If we think that the world is just the place where we live and the people we know, we are fools. I don’t want to be a fool, and I want to see as much of the world as I can. That’s why I travel.’
Nallayyan Uncle then asked him, ‘People say that you even eat beef . . .’
‘Why not?’ the man replied. ‘The white man eats both beef and pork, and we get up and salute him whenever we see him. But we object when our own people eat them. The people who eat beef are human beings too.’
Nallayyan Uncle got to chat a lot with the man that night. He learnt that this landlord was the first man in his house to cut off his head-knot. And he did not wear ear studs either. ‘There are thieves looking just for ear studs to steal,’ the man told Nallayyan. ‘Can anyone travel in peace wearing them? Without them, I can fearlessly go anywhere, stay anywhere. That’s why I don’t wear them.’ The man took a strong liking to Nallayyan Uncle when he found out that he too constantly wandered from town to town. He asked about all these various places, and Nallayyan obliged. The next day, he said to Nallayyan, ‘Come with me. Stay at my place for a few days.’ And Nallayyan accepted the invitation.
The landlord’s house had every conceivable comfort. Seeing all that, Nallayyan grew suspicious about the man’s habit of wandering away from all that luxury. Nallayyan had originally intended to stay in that house for four days, but he ended up staying there for a whole month. He grew familiar with the man’s family. One night, the man took Uncle to a room he had not shown him before. It was designed to host white officials and for them to drink alcohol in comfort. Nallayyan refused to drink anything. He might have had all sorts of questionable habits, but drinking was not one of them.
A long time ago, when Nallayyan was a little boy, his father had asked him to drink some alcohol. When Nallayyan took the cup close to his mouth, he inhaled its pungent odour and felt like throwing up. So he flung t
he alcohol away—along with the cup. His father got very angry at that and asked Nallayyan to pick up the empty cup, after which he poured some toddy into it. But the cup had cracked under the impact of being flung aside, so the toddy kept leaking. ‘You broke the cup!’ his father shouted and hit him on the head. Then he asked someone to fetch a different cup and filled it with toddy for Nallayyan to drink. However, the boy flung that one away as well. In this manner, he threw away four or five cups of toddy. His father was enraged. ‘I am asking you to drink, and you won’t? You are so disobedient!’ And he dragged the boy close, trapped him between his legs and, holding his face in a tight grip, pressed his own cup of alcohol to Nallayyan’s lips. But the boy kept his mouth firmly closed.
No matter how hard the father tried, he could not get even a drop of toddy into his son’s mouth. ‘Are you really a peasant’s son? You are a peasant only if you drink. I am not asking you to drink an old woman’s piss, am I? This is palmyra toddy. Who knows whom your mother slept with to give birth to you?’ Scolding the boy in this manner, he hit him hard with a stick. That was the first time Nallayyan ran away from the village. And, ever since, his anger at his father made him detest the idea of drinking alcohol. So from that day in his childhood, Nallayyan had not drunk even a drop of alcohol. The landlord was amazed at this fact. He said to Nallayyan, ‘I have some old white woman’s piss. Want to taste it?’
Trial by Silence Page 13