The grand old Angels of Chinnalapatti
She stood by the pond next to the big shivalingam poo tree waiting in the evening. It was a sunny day with the sounds of birds chirping and the cowherds bringing in the cows for the day. There were some days when the moist breeze brought along the smells of rain in a distant village and some days where the sun's heat bore down on her scalp through her thick well oiled and center-parted hair, and seeped out through her pores as sweat and soaked her completely. Today the red earth was just warm beneath her feet, some days she had had to switch between one foot and the other to prevent from getting her bare soles scorched. She had never left this village since the day they brought her here in the bullock cart from her mothers hometown. Her aunt had swaddled her in her mothers saree and held her close to her body throughout the night journey. The ayyas (grand old ladies) still told her stories of how her loud bawling that night had silenced the rowdy village dogs and even awakened the deaf old lady from her sleep. The old ayyas in the village were her constant companions. They sat around the arasa maram (peepal tree) after their daily chores gossiping and discussing the goings on in the village. They usually let her listen in on everything except when the topic turned to "adult" stuff and then she was gently nudged to be on her way. She remembers the ayyas from way back when she first went to balvadi school (creche). The feel of their soft, wrinkled, loose and parched skin; the clean smell of earth that came from them and their soft cotton sarees whose pallu were a treasure trove of tit bits like puliya mittai, rusk, tea buns and plantains from the mountains.
She had never known her mother but everyone told her that she looked a lot like her. The way her hair curled up at her forehead, the slant of her eyes, the shape of her cheek bones every feature in her face supposedly resembled her mother. She sometimes touched her curls, her nose and cheeks to imagine what her mother must have felt like. Appa had given her the only remaining piece of her mother's memory in this house, a leather suitcase which contained a couple of her sarees, jewellery, notebooks with recipes written in them and her most priced possession a marapachi bommai (a wooden doll). The doll she was told by her aunt was gifted to her mother when she left her parents after marriage. The wooden doll was somehow always warm to her touch. When she would hold it during the rainy months saying it emanated warmth her brother would laugh out loud. "How can wood be warm in the rains?" and pull her plait in jest. But she insisted her senses were more attuned to smells,sounds,tastes and warmth than his was only to be mocked again with loud laughter. Her brother Arumugam was sugar and spice. He would lead her slowly and gently down the steep stairs at the temple but then again frighten her by taking her very close to the railway tracks so that the train hurtling down sounded like an unknown fierce monster; he would feed her with his hands when the ayyas drew patterns with marudhani on her hands but get a kick out of her squealing at the sound and noise of the fire crackers. She wished she could spend more time with him. He was so full of life and so sure of himself. But when he went to school she had to stay behind. He came back home every day smelling of the dirt and grime from running in the mud roads that led to the school and back. He would tell her of the "Strict Maths sir", the swings on the roots of the banyan tree, the rough games of kapadi and "polo" with the boys, the joys and sorrows of school and she would wish if only, if only I could go one day to school. Every time this topic was brought up with her father, it only ended in difficult questions, loud arguments and tears from her.
She was waiting for her brother to return from school now at her usual spot behind the coconut tree grove that bordered their house. She heard the voices of other children returning from school. Suddenly there was a rustling and a flutter in the branches above her. She started in fright when an approaching anxious voice asked her " Did you see it! did you see it?".
The question completely stumped her. She stood petrified unable to utter a word.
"Well say something quickly, I saw that it caught in the branches of this tree but its not there anymore!".
Another louder voice "Where is it? Where is it? If you lose this one also I am going to thrash all of you into bits? Where is it da Mani?".
"What did she see it?" said another.
She was completely shocked into silence now. She didn't know any of these boys and did not know what to tell them. It took her a couple minutes to realize that she was surrounded by four boys all shouting and cursing each other for their losing the kite and demanding if she saw it. When she finally built up the courage to say something she heard her brothers voice behind them..
"Shanthi Shanthi are you Ok?" "What are you doing to my sister? You fools let her go!".
The loudest of voices " Ho Aru this is your sister eh? The one who doesn't come to school? Ask this illiterate sister of yours if she saw our kite?"
"Let her go and I'll find out"
"Why you afraid we'll do something to her, you wimp ask her now! We don't have time!!"
"Let her go you fools NOW!"
There was a loud thrash and then silence...
" What you slapped Marimuthu!! Wait wait we will tell Maths Sir tomorrow!"
"Get lost you fools go tell whoever you want! Now leave my sister alone!"
Suddenly someone shoved her and she fell to the ground.
" Noooooo she is blind you idiots she could not have seen the kite. LET HER GO!"
Between the sounds of scruffle Shanthi heard the sound of ayyas in the background.
"Oui what is this all about? Oh you stupid boys pushing a motherless blind girl to the ground. Shameless scoundrels. Wait till I talk to your parents"
"Ow ow ow let go of my ear paati!"
"Sorry sorry OW OW OW!!!"
And the sounds of her brother squealing with laughter
She had never known her mother but everyone told her that she looked a lot like her. The way her hair curled up at her forehead, the slant of her eyes, the shape of her cheek bones every feature in her face supposedly resembled her mother. She sometimes touched her curls, her nose and cheeks to imagine what her mother must have felt like. Appa had given her the only remaining piece of her mother's memory in this house, a leather suitcase which contained a couple of her sarees, jewellery, notebooks with recipes written in them and her most priced possession a marapachi bommai (a wooden doll). The doll she was told by her aunt was gifted to her mother when she left her parents after marriage. The wooden doll was somehow always warm to her touch. When she would hold it during the rainy months saying it emanated warmth her brother would laugh out loud. "How can wood be warm in the rains?" and pull her plait in jest. But she insisted her senses were more attuned to smells,sounds,tastes and warmth than his was only to be mocked again with loud laughter. Her brother Arumugam was sugar and spice. He would lead her slowly and gently down the steep stairs at the temple but then again frighten her by taking her very close to the railway tracks so that the train hurtling down sounded like an unknown fierce monster; he would feed her with his hands when the ayyas drew patterns with marudhani on her hands but get a kick out of her squealing at the sound and noise of the fire crackers. She wished she could spend more time with him. He was so full of life and so sure of himself. But when he went to school she had to stay behind. He came back home every day smelling of the dirt and grime from running in the mud roads that led to the school and back. He would tell her of the "Strict Maths sir", the swings on the roots of the banyan tree, the rough games of kapadi and "polo" with the boys, the joys and sorrows of school and she would wish if only, if only I could go one day to school. Every time this topic was brought up with her father, it only ended in difficult questions, loud arguments and tears from her.
She was waiting for her brother to return from school now at her usual spot behind the coconut tree grove that bordered their house. She heard the voices of other children returning from school. Suddenly there was a rustling and a flutter in the branches above her. She started in fright when an approaching anxious voice asked her " Did you see it! did you see it?".
The question completely stumped her. She stood petrified unable to utter a word.
"Well say something quickly, I saw that it caught in the branches of this tree but its not there anymore!".
Another louder voice "Where is it? Where is it? If you lose this one also I am going to thrash all of you into bits? Where is it da Mani?".
"What did she see it?" said another.
She was completely shocked into silence now. She didn't know any of these boys and did not know what to tell them. It took her a couple minutes to realize that she was surrounded by four boys all shouting and cursing each other for their losing the kite and demanding if she saw it. When she finally built up the courage to say something she heard her brothers voice behind them..
"Shanthi Shanthi are you Ok?" "What are you doing to my sister? You fools let her go!".
The loudest of voices " Ho Aru this is your sister eh? The one who doesn't come to school? Ask this illiterate sister of yours if she saw our kite?"
"Let her go and I'll find out"
"Why you afraid we'll do something to her, you wimp ask her now! We don't have time!!"
"Let her go you fools NOW!"
There was a loud thrash and then silence...
" What you slapped Marimuthu!! Wait wait we will tell Maths Sir tomorrow!"
"Get lost you fools go tell whoever you want! Now leave my sister alone!"
Suddenly someone shoved her and she fell to the ground.
" Noooooo she is blind you idiots she could not have seen the kite. LET HER GO!"
Between the sounds of scruffle Shanthi heard the sound of ayyas in the background.
"Oui what is this all about? Oh you stupid boys pushing a motherless blind girl to the ground. Shameless scoundrels. Wait till I talk to your parents"
"Ow ow ow let go of my ear paati!"
"Sorry sorry OW OW OW!!!"
And the sounds of her brother squealing with laughter
"HAHAHAHA the fools, the foooools beaten up by a group of ayyas...HAHAHAHA"
And she sat up grinning as the soft, reassuring hands of an ayya helped her up. Her guardian angles had come to her rescue. Nothing to fear now, all was fine with the world!
And she sat up grinning as the soft, reassuring hands of an ayya helped her up. Her guardian angles had come to her rescue. Nothing to fear now, all was fine with the world!
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