Thirteen

According to custom, the fourth day after the wedding the bride has to be fetched by her people along with the bridegroom to visit her parents. But there was no one at Nirkunnam to bring Karuthamma to her parents. But there was no one at Nirkunnam to bring Karuthamma to her parents.

Chakki had been bedridden since the wedding. Nallapennu, her kind neighbor, visited her from time to time to nurse her. Panchami had to look after the house. Chemban Kunju didn’t appear to worry in the least about his helpless wife. Nallapennu advised him three of four times to call in a good doctor, but he did nothing.

He would go to the door of Chakki’s room from time to time and peep in. Once Chakki asked him to go to Trikunnapuzha to bring Karuthamma and Palani home. Chemban Kunju forgot himself in his anger.

“I shan’t go. I don’t want her to come to my house,” he shouted.

Chakki also got angry. And as a result, she fainted.

That day Chemban Kunju called in a doctor.

But he did not go to Trikunnapuzha to bring the new bride home. Everyone asked him about it and he lost his temper and quarreled with everyone.

At the Trikunnapuzha village, too, the fact that Karuthamma did not visit her parents on the fourth day after the wedding was the talk of the place. She wasn’t a girl without family, and everyone at Trikunnapuzha knew it. It was, of course, possible that she had been kicked out of her home.

Karuthamma was ever hopeful that something would happen. She couldn’t really believe that her father would forsake her. And she worried about her mother. She was afraid of speaking of all this to her husband, but she was too worried to remain silent.

“I wonder if my mother is alive now,” she said.

Palani didn’t answer. She looked at him carefully.

“Let us go and see,” she said hesitantly.

His answer was like a slap in the face to her.

“Don’t trouble about that now.”

The change in Palani’s attitude frightened Karuthamma.

“How can you just speak like that?” She said, feigning a smile.

“Well, why not?” He said.

”We may have girls one day and they will get married too. One day we shall have to answer for our actions.”

For that, too, Palani had a ready answer.

“We shall see to that when the time comes.”

Still reluctant to drop the matter, she asked, “then shall I go to my mother by myself?”

He would not prevent it, he said, but he made one condition.

“You can go, but you needn’t come back.”

Karuthamma’s anger flared, and she gave vent to it.

“Goodness, men’s minds, I don’t know what is in them.”

Then she forced a smile.

Chakki at Nirkunnam and Karuthamma at Trikunnapuzha. The days passed without anyone caring for their feelings and sorrow. They pined for each other. Alone, Karuthamma wept. Chakki ate her heart out. No one knew.

One day, hearing that Chakki’s illness had become worse, Pareekutti went to Chakki. Chemban Kunju was not in the house. When Chakki saw Pareekutti, she burst into tears. Seeing her sob helplessly, Pareekutti grieved for her.

He, too, had changed. He was no longer the bright Pareekutti.

“I am dying, Muthalali,” Chakki said, crying.

Pareekutti saw that Chakki was very weak. But he tried to reassure her.

“What are you saying, Chakki? You are not as ill as all that.”

Chakki signed to him to sit near her bed. Chakki looked at Pareekutti and cried even harder.

“I have a lot to tell you, Kochumuthalali,” Chakki said.

It was the question of the money that she wanted to talk about first of all. Pareekutti asked her not to worry about it. Chakki cursed her husband. She said he was greedy and wicked.

“What can I do? He will not pay up?”

“Please don’t think of that and worry, Chakki.”

“It is not that, Kochumuthalali,” Chakki contiued with difficulty. “We haven’t sent our daughter to a happy place. She won’t have a moment devoid of pain.”

Pareekutti could say nothing to comfort her.

“I am dying.” Chakki said. “And yet he won’t bring my child to see me.”

Her daughter nursed a secret love in her heart. And they got her married to the wrong one. How could Chakki say if her daughter’s love would not cast a shadow on her life? This was the beginning of a new chapter in her life. But could anyone say that the past had no place in it? Above all, she had been given away to one who had nothing and no one in life. How could one be certain that Palani would love her and protect her?

“I feel as if I have put my child in a little boat and sent her out to sea alone,” Chakki said.

“Don’t think like that,” Pareekutti said. “Palani is a good worker. He will take care of her.”

Chakki shook her head unconvinced.

“You two played together like children on this seashore,” she mourned.

Pareekutti’s heart was touched by those memories. He realized now that Chakki knew of their love. She knew how deep it was.

“I never had the good fortune to bear a boy,” Chakki continued. “But I have a son.”

Chakki clasped Pareekutti’s hands and said, “you are my son, Pareekutti.”

Her statement was like a healing balm on Pareekutti’s bruised heart. Karuthamma was not to be his, but she would always be something to him and he something to her.

“My son, you must marry a nice girl, have children and prosper in your trade,” Chakki said. “You must not trouble Karuthamma any longer. She is married. You are now her brother. As my son you must accept her as your sister.”

Pareekutti’s eyes overflowed with tears.

“I know you love Karuthamma. This is the test of your love.”

Pareekutti couldn’t answer her. His voice choked with emotion. If he loved her, he had to care for her like a brother - yes, that was right.

Silently, time passed by.

“Shouldn’t it be so, my son?” Chakki asked.

“Yes,” Pareekutti answered mechanically.

“Then, my child, may you children live like my son and daughter.” In a moment Chakki continued, “If she were here, I would have told her this on my deathbed.”

Chakki asked him again to be only a brother and no more. If Karuthamma could not come to Chakki before her death, he should inform Karuthamma that she now had a brother. Although Pareekutti gave his consent, Chakki felt uneasy about the way he gave it. She begged him to give her his word of honor.

That night Chakki heard Pareekutti singing his song on the shore.

Chemban Kunju had fallen on evil days. He was no longer strong enough to go to sea. Chemban Kunju thought that was the reason why his haul was no longer very good. On top of that he had another stroke of misfortune. Khadar Muthalali owed him money for some fish Chemban Kunju had supplied him. One night Khadar Muthalali collected everything he had in his curing yard and disappeared. The loss was a big blow to Chemban Kunju.

Chemban Kunju therefore decided he could no longer stay ashore. He must go to sea once again. And one fine day, there was Chemban Kunju again at the helm of his boat, only now he was sitting, not standing. The boat did not have its old élan. It wasn’t charging forward. The oarsmen were pulling hard. But Chemban Kunju’s legs were shaking. He couldn’t balance himself on the narrow edge of the boat on his big toe as he used to. Perhaps he was afraid. Had his forward march ended? Could he no longer speed outward like a bird and return with the biggest haul? His boat now moved like any other boat.

Chemban Kunju turned the boat toward the shore early.

“Let us go. That is enough for today,” he said.

Never before had Chemban Kunju thought of any day’s work as sufficient.

On the return journey Chemban Kunju, as he balanced himself precariously at the helm, missed a stroke of the oar and fell into the sea. The oarsmen hauled him out, but he could no longer stay at the helm.

That day Chemban Kunju sold his fish for whatever price he was offered. He returned home a very tired man. He was like one crushed.

Panchami had cooked a meal for him. She had made his favorite curries.

“Serve the food, child. Your father is just coming,” Chakki said.

Chemban Kunju ate a little. He didn’t seem to relish it. He just went through the motions of eating.

“Mother, Father hasn’t eaten a thing.” Panchami said distressfully when he got up.

Chemban Kunju washed his hands and went to Chakki. Their eyes met and filled with tears.

“What shall we do? This is our fate,” Chakki said.

Chemban Kunju held back his tears. He didn’t let a single drop fall. He still had that much will power left.

“You cannot get up from your bed?” He asked.

“I tried. What can I do?”

He sat by Chakki’s side on her bed. Chakki noticed that her husband’s pride and strength had ebbed away. Chemban Kunju described the accident he had at sea that day.

“My legs gave way,” he said. “What shall I do, Chakki?”

Chemban Kunju asked her that question in his despair. In all the toil and discipline of his life she had been his constant partner. She was now bedridden. And with that the discipline of his life cracked. His vigor was gone. The man who sat crumpled up on that bed was a defeated man.

She took his hands in hers and pressed them against her chest.

“What will you do when I am gone?” She asked him.

Chemban Kunju burst out crying.

“You must not speak like that. What shall I do then?”

She clasped his hands tight. As she pressed them to her heart, they moved with the violence of her heartbeat.

She spoke in a disembodied voice.

“Marry some else.”

Her body shivered as if in a seizure. The throbbing of her heart seemed to slacken.

Chakki lay with her eyes fixed upon him.

“What did you say? That I should marry someone else?” Chemban Kunju asked.

There was no answer. She knew that it was necessary to have a partner in one’s life.

“Why don’t you say anything?”

A gloss gathered over Chakki’s eyes. Chemban Kunju was terrified. He shook her gently.

“Chakki,” he called.

She was motionless.

“Are you gone?”

Chemban Kunju fell on her body. Even then she had not let go her handclasp.