Ramanmuppan and Ayyankunju, the two elders of the seafront, and two others, as representatives of the community, went to see the Headman. They took with them the usual tributes. They wanted to place before him a matter that was affecting the whole seafront. Chemban Kunju has a grown-up daughter. He has not given her away in marriage. She is a grown girl gadding about the seafront. That was the main complaint. The Headman listened gravely to everything. He promised to act straightaway on everything that had to be done.
But Ayyankunju felt that the accusation hadn’t really been understood. The Headman didn’t seem serious enough. So the complaints stood there even after the Headman had answered them.
“Why are you all waiting still?” He asked them.
Ayyankunju had one more complaint to relate.
“While that girl is wandering about single on the seafront, Chemban Kunju has gone away looking for a boat and net for himself,” he said.
The Headman was surprised at this information. “Where did Chemban Kunju get the money for that?”
Those poor people did not know. But Ayyankunju, in all humility, ventured to ask. “He is a Mukkuvan. We wonder if you gave him permission to buy the boat?”
“No, of course not. He didn’t ask me.”
“Well, what are we of the seafront to do then?”
The Headman thought for a moment and said, “he thinks the times are changed.”
Ayyankunju nodded assent. Then the Headman gave his orders.
“Let him bring the boat. But no one is to go to work for him without letting me know.”
Ayyankunju agreed.
“But there are a lot of youngsters. I wonder how they will behave,” he said.
Ayyankunju had Velayudhan in mind. The Headman did not take that too seriously. He knew that the time hadn’t yet come when his authority would be questioned in public.
“I shall see to everything. Tell the people that I have not given Chemban Kunju permission to buy the boat,” he said.
Ramanmuppan and Ayyankunju thus returned trium- phant. They went from door to door letting everyone know the Headman’s orders. Ayyankunju felt that only Velayudhan wouldn’t pay any heed to them. Youth knew no dangers. But he would live to regret it.
All this came to Chakki’s attention. She had heard stories of families being ruined by incurring the displeasure of the Headman. They had to leave their village bag and baggage. And there was no point in thinking that they could move into some other fishing village. The long arm of the Headman reached everywhere. Such people were excommunicated from the community of fishermen.
Today the power of that authority wasn’t quite the same. Times were changing. Yet, if the Headman so willed, even today it might become difficult to get workers on the seafront. It was possible that one could be completely ostracized. Chemban Kunju ought to have gone to the Headman with his offering and obtained his permission before going to buy his boat and net. What wrong had they done to anybody? On the entire seafront Chemban Kunju and his family became the topic of conversation. The womenfolk kept saying that their main crime was that they had not given away their grown daughter in marriage.
Karuthamma wished she had not been born. What troubles and sorrows was she causing to her parents! She hated herself for growing up like that. She had not done anything to defile the seafront. And if she had to live unmarried, did it hurt anybody? But that kind of logic wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
Mother and daughter anxiously waited for the return of Chemban Kunju.
In Kalikunju’s house four or five women had gathered. They were talking of Karuthamma and her family. Chakki overheard them. One of them said that Karuthamma was having an affair with Pareekutti; that she had seen them laughing and flirting in the shadow of the boats. And that that was the reason why Karuthamma wasn’t being given away in marriage.
Chakki would not stand for this kind of idle gossip. From her hiding place she sprang like a tiger.
And so it came to pass that it let loose the tongues of a number of women.
Then it was said that Chakki herself in her youth had been the toast of the seafront! Chakki retaliated by asking who was the father of one of Kalikunju’s children. Wasn’t he a Muslim who hawked dried fish from door to door on the seafront? All those women who had fore-gathered there, and their mothers before them, had some such stories to tell. But that day Chakki was alone on one side; the other women stood as one against her. Chakki gave them as good as she got.
Standing by the fence outside, Karuthamma heard everything. And hearing it she was staggered. Did her mother too love someone in her youth? Wasn’t there any meaning in the traditions of the seaside? Wasn’t it all just talk? Even with all those ugly tales, the sea was still the same as ever. Even today the boats went out to sea. The hauls were the same. And fishermen made a good living. What then was the meaning of all those old stories?
As the quarrel grew worse, the women turned to tales about Karuthamma. Karuthamma stopped hers ears. What lies! They said she was Pareekutti’s mistress. They said that it would take someone like Pareekutti to feed her and keep her. The parents did well by him. And because they didn’t want to let go his help, Karuthamma was not being given away to someone else.
At this rate the stories that her mother told about the other women, Karuthamma thought, and the stories that they told about her mother, must all have been lies.
“Wait and see what is coming to you. The Headman has made up his mind,” Kalikunju threatened Chakki.
Chakki didn’t give in. She fought back. “and what has he decided? What is it that the Headmen can do?”
“The Headman knows how to handle people who have neither character nor morals,” the fisherwoman Karuthapennu said.
“How will he handle us? We shall become Muslims. Or we shall become Christians. Then what can the Headman do?” Chakki said.
“Then why not say so? So you had thought of all this before you sent your daughter to the Muslim boy,” said another woman.
“It is better so, both for mother and daughter,” still another said.
“What is wrong with that?” Chakki said.
Karuthamma was more perplexed than ever had been in her life. Was it pain? It was difficult to say. Or was it a sudden relief? She didn’t know. She called out to her mother in her misery. Chakki heard her and returned home. She had had enough of the fight.
Even after returning home Chakki kept talking to herself, all sorts of things, incoherently. Karuthamma would have liked to ask her many things, but she didn’t dare. The idea that they could become Muslims was going round and round in her head. Her nerves were on end.
Wasn’t it natural? She had fallen in love, but she belonged to a community hedged in by taboos and relentless traditions. This was their way of life. It was the outcome of their perilous and hard life; always fighting the elements. Becoming a Muslim seemed to Karuthamma the best escape from this fortress. Just one decision had to be made, and then all would be well. Become a Muslim! How would it be then? Dressed like a Muslim girl, complete with blouse and golden earrings, she would go to Pareekutti. How he would love that! Then Pareekutti could stare at her by right. She couldn’t fully comprehend all that it would mean, but this was the only way that she could extricate herself from her present situation. And she need not spend the rest of her life as the wife of a fisherman going out to sea every day.
But did her mother say it seriously? Perhaps she said it only in the heat of the moment. She was afraid to ask. She may be misunderstood, as if she desired it.
In a few days the boat that Chemban Kunju had bought arrived at the seafront. It was the boat of the celebrated Valakkaran, Kandankoran of Pallikunnath, a famous boat in its time. Now it was a little old, but on the Chertala seafront that boat was unbeatable. The people on his seafront knew that. Why did Kandankoran sell that boat, though it was a little old? He was in a bad way. He lived extravagantly and loved showing off, and at last he had to sell the boat.
Everyone went to see the boat. In their heart of hearts they were a little envious that Chemban Kunju had acquired a fine boat.
“The glory of Pallikunnath has come to Chemban Kunju along with this boat,” Achakunju said to his fellowmen.
Ayyankunju swore and spat.
“How can the glory of an aristocrat of a fisherman be inherited by one like Chemban Kunju? Kandankoran’s complexion was a golden brown; his figure was a measure of his prosperity. You should have seen him waiting before his boat, elegantly dressed, with dignity and aplomb. How can you compare this fellow with him?”
Ramanmuppan also gave his verdict. “If Chemban Kunju is going to behave like Kandankoran, then the lean, haggard, dark- skinned Chakki must behave like Pappikunju, the beautiful wife of Kandankoran. Have you seen her?
Ayyankunju said, “of course; her beauty dazzles your eyes.”
When Chemban Kunju got home he was stunned at what he heard and what confronted him. He had come with much happiness in his heart. To have acquired that boat was a stroke of fortune. He wanted to tell his wife in detail how he visited Pallikunnath Kandankoran in his home, how he dined there and all that happened there. He also wanted to tell her about Kandankoran’s wife, Pappikunju, and her beauty. Instead he was greeted with bad news.
The main accusation was that he had not been to the Headman before going to get his boat and net. That was true. He had broken an old, old custom. It was with much difficulty that he had raised the money for the boat and net. He couldn’t have saved even twenty-five rupees out of that for the Headman. In any case he didn’t realize that this was going to develop into such a grave matter.
Helpless and desperate, he turned to his wife, “what have we done to all these people?”
“It isn’t what we have done. Just envy,” Chakki said.
That was true. But it would all turn out right if they had some twenty-five rupees. But how could he get the money? He must in any case have some money for the boat’s accessories. At the moment all he had was one net.
Chemban Kunju related all his troubles to his wife, one by one. Whom else could he relate them to? And who else would listen to it? But Chakki did not try to comfort him.
“Then why did you take upon yourself this wretched burden?” She asked.
Chemban Kunju didn’t say a word. Perhaps he did feel that he had taken on a burden he couldn’t bear. Everything was finished now. His own people were against him.
“If we had just married off the girl with what little money we had, would this disaster have come over us?” Chakki asked.
Chemban Kunju didn’t answer that question. If you have big ambitions, you shall have no peace. Perhaps it is better to manage modestly with what you have.
When darkness fell, Chemban Kunju said to his wife, “If we had some thirty-five rupees, everything would be all right.”
Chakki had taken out even the money she had secretly put away. Thus her last saving was gone.
“See how you are struggling now. If only you had made me something, even the smallest ornament of gold… but you wouldn’t listen to me then,” she said.
Chemban Kunju accepted that.
“There is one way, Chakki.”
“ And what is that?”
“That is” - Chemban Kunju hesitated a little before saying it. “If I could get hold of that boy, it will work.”
Chakki put her hand over Chemban Kunju’s mouth to silence him. She was not sure if Karuthamma had gone to sleep.
Chemban Kunju removed her hand and asked, “what is the matter with you?”
“Speak softly.”
“ Well, what is it?”
This was the sort of thing that no father should be told, but it was necessary to speak of it. Chemban Kunju repeated the question. Chakki whispered in his ear. “Karuthamma says that this is humiliating. There will be trouble if she comes to know of this.”
“What other way is there?”
“That is what I am thinking of too.”
Chemban Kunju asked after a while, “would he be there now?”
“ Perhaps.”
“Let me go and see.”
Chakki didn’t say a word. Chemban Kunju opened the door and went out.
Karuthamma was sleeping. She did not know what was happening. When Chemban Kunju returned, his face was bright and happy. It was clear that he had got what he wanted.
“Poor boy. He is a good one. He had thirty rupees with him. And he gave them to me.”
Next morning Chemban Kunju went to see the Headman of the seafront. The Headman was very angry at first, but he soon cooled down. He got Chemban Kunju to agree that his daughter would be given away in marriage as early as possible. Chemban Kunju would also take to the Headman a share of the day’s catch. Chemban Kunju complained of the jealousy of the fishermen of the village. The Headman assured him that he would see to it.
So for the moment Chemban Kunju’s troubles were under control. But to launch the boat with all the necessary accessories, he would need another five hundred rupees. That must be found.
“How?” Asked Chakki.
“Pareekutti will have to provide it,” said Chemban Kunju.
Chakki was stunned. They had a real exchange of words about it, though Karuthamma did not know. With the authority of the husband Chemban Kunju demanded that Chakki ask for the money.
“No, I won’t,” she said.
“Then let the boat remain unlaunched.”
“ Let it.”
But Chakki hadn’t the heart to let it remain so. She was afraid that Chemban Kunju had decided not to move un-less she gave in.
“All right. Will you return every anna to him?” She asked.
Chemban Kunju promised to return every anna with interest.
And so Chakki went to Pareekutti and asked him for the money. During the night a lot of dried fish was sold from Pareekutti’s curing yard. And Chemban Kunju’s boat was ready to be launched with all the nets and accessories.
And now came the question of those who were to work for him. The Headman sent for the older and experienced fishermen and made all the arrangements. Actually, it was not difficult. Everyone was envious to work for Chemban Kunju when he saw the boat.
Achakunju hoped that Chemban Kunju would ask him for his advice on all these matters and that he would certainly be asked to work for him. He had a row with his family on that very subject. Achakunju had been prepared even to fight the Headman for the sake of his friend. But though they met several times, Chemban Kunju said nothing. Chemban Kunju selected twelve fishermen from that seafront to work for him. Achakunju was not one of them.
It is an old custom of the seafront that there should be a small feast the day before the launching of a boat. Chemban Kunju bought all the provisions for the occasion on credit from the shopkeeper Hassan Kuti. He had to invite some relatives and friends from the neighboring villages, Kakkazaham and Kunnappara. Chemban Kunju sent Karuthamma to extend the invitation.
Walking along the seafront lost in her thoughts, Karuthamma heard a familiar question.
“Will you trade fish with us?”
She stopped almost stunned. Pareekutti was standing before her. How and from where had he appeared? Karuthamma said nothing. She didn’t even say that she would trade with him for a fair price. She wasn’t the old Karuthamma any more. She stood there, her head held low.
“Is Karuthamma angry with me?” Pareekutti asked.
She didn’t say a word. Her heart was beating as if it might burst any moment.
“I won’t talk to you if you don’t wish it.”
She wanted, in fact, to tell him so much, to ask so many questions. She even wanted to ask him if she could be converted to his religion.
She stood there in the shadow of the boat on the seashore. He could not take his eyes off her heaving breasts. And she did not ask him not to stare at her.
Raising her face she said, “let me go, Muthalali.”
But was Pareekutti holding her back? Could she not walk straight off?
“Somebody might see us,” she said nervously.
She took a few steps. Then she heard him call her, “Karuthamma.”
There was something unusual in that call, in that voice. Her ears and her heart experienced a new sensation. Karuthamma stood as if she had been halted suddenly. He did not come to her, though she expected him to do so.
They did not know, either of them, how long they stood like that.
The sea did not get stormy. The wind did not rise. The sea smiled, even little waves curling up and vanishing into white foam. Such romance had been enacted on the seafront before.
All of Pareekutti’s hopes finally took the shape of one question.
“Karuthamma, do you love me?”
Without Karuthamma knowing it, the answer came forth.
“Yes.”
“And you love only me?”
“ Yes, only you.”
Her own voice shook her like the sound of thunder as she regained her consciousness and realized the full force of what she had said. She looked Pareekutti in the face. Their eyes met. They had said everything that had to be said. They had opened their hearts to each other.
And she walked on.