I
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| Vaithy |
They say old age is a return to
childhood. Thangam and Vaithy would find a new lease of life upon returning to
the village. Living there again and getting re-acqainted with neighbours and
relatives, re-kindled memories of growing up. Vaithy once again became familiar
with the emerald green paddy fields, the village pond and the small temple. He
formed a local committee to renew the pond and build a wall around it. The
village had roads, street lights and buses and taxis that made it easier to
reach the town. In many ways though, it was still a quiet oasis. Bhagyam
settled into a satisfactory routine. Visiting the temple in the mornings and
spending time with
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| Thangam and Kannan |
Nambisan’s daughter, Savitri, who became their companion.
Eventually, she moved in with them.
Venkatta too became a
part of their lives. When Aachu mama was alive, he could not formally adopt his
son with Alamelu. Known as the village simpleton, his loving nature was visible
to all. Now, he became a son to Vaithy and Thangam. He would fetch milk from
the co-operative, help her cut the vegatables and braid her hair. He became
attached to ‘Vaithyppa’ and went for walks with him to the corner-store and
along the canal. He insisted on holding the umbrella for him when it rained and
was devoted to him in ways that moved him. He would wait outside the temple,
guarding his slippers and sit beside the barber shop, and walk him home. He
would go to the bus-stand, and be the first to bring home the The Hindu and Mathrubhumi,
not content to let the papers be delivered home. When Vaithy returned home from
his trip to Thanjavur, he would be waiting on the platform eagerly, with Thamby
the driver waiting outside the station. On the way home, he would excitedly
deliver a list of the things Vaithy had missed while he had been away. The
state of the mango trees. The school miss who had disappeared. Khader’s
ducklings which he had seen in the paddy fields.
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| Venkatta |
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| Jayashree and Manikandan |
Each day, they would
walk over to the mana to visit Vaithy's friend Kesavan Namboodiri. Manikandan the tusker would be there, for them to admire and adore, along with Jayashree, his keeper. Ever since Vaithy had brought
him from Thekkessery mana, he had searched in vain for a good mahout, until he
found Jayashree. She was more than an elephant-keeper, she was a soul-mate to Manikandan. A woman
as a mahout? Unheard of, people had said, but Jayashree proved them wrong. Manikandan
was a magnificent specimen, the envy of his peers. Thangam was bemused, but
Vaithy was not to be swayed. There was
no denying him. He had to have Manikandan. An elephant had been his child-hood
dream.
II One rainy season, Bhagyam was doing
the dishes after dinner with Kannan when she casually mentioned that if Vaithy
hadn’t married her, she might have remained a spinster. Kannan was intrigued.
What did she mean? Later, as they sat in
the verandah, with the patter of rain outside, and her children around her,
Thangam told them.
“Your father saw me at
the temple and told his Periappa he wanted to marry me. They asked for my
horoscope but Aachu mama didn’t have one, they didn’t know my exact date of
birth.” “I told Periappa, but he said it was not possible,” Vaithy began. “I
had a Namboodiri friend, Kesavan, and we went to his father.” Thirumeni listened to the
young Vaithy and asked him if his mind was made up. Vaithy said he would remain
a bachelor, if he didn’t marry Thangam. “Not marrying is not a solution. A
paradesi brahmanan like you must
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| Kesavan Namboodiri, Vaithy's childhood friend |
become a gr’hasthan. Let me speak to Panicker
first, then we shall see.”
The consultations took
some time. Panicker was not entirely sure, but in the end, he was reasonably
certain that a horoscope could be made to match Vaithy’s. After much discussion with the Thirumeni, it
was decided that Thangam was born on a pournami in Medha maasam, five days
after Thrissur Pooram. That meant she must have been born in the year 1111.
Accordingly, Panicker was asked to draw up a horoscope. It would show that
Thangam was born well within Swati nakshatra.
Thirumeni called
Periappa to counsel him. “Even the Gods smile on a gandharva vivaham, master.
Who are we to stand in their way? Panicker says that the boy’s horoscope bodes
well for his future. They are a good family. Think about it.” It would be
another year before Periappa would give his blessing to the match.
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| Chuppam (foreground) with Ammangal and Mama |
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| Dorai |
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| Papa |
III “When my parents were married, I was
already born.” “You mean Patti Amma was not your mother?”. “No. Patti Amma was
not my mother.” “Who was your mother then?”
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| Meena |
Thangam looked at her
children. Kannan, Papa, Meena, Chuppam and Dorai waited for her to speak. She
looked at Vaithy, who nodded slightly. “You remember Nambisan? He was my older
brother. When Patta married, I was about three months old. When Patta and Patti
died, Aachu mama moved into our house and he and Vishala Patti took care of me.”
There was a stunned
silence.
Text by: Shankar A.
Narayan Photo credits: Manoj P and ‘The Hindu’
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