I just want to get even with.
--------------------------------
‘Take a look at him, he is the one’, Nag said pointing to the little boy who was walking by the creek and throwing stone into it. Isn’t it clear, even from the way he walks? You know, from the day he was born, he looked exactly the same, never changed a bit. But nobody believed me. Can you imagine, eight years. I was chased away for eight solid years from my life. Nobody believed me, not a single soul. They said she was a little girl, poor and sick, when they came to know that sandya was pregnant. Well, I was a kid too. I just completed my schools then, remember. What did they know about her? But still they all felt sorry for her. They said, a poor girl with a hole in her heart and how is she going to endure this. Why didn’t she die then, if she had a hole in the heart? All lies, you know, they threw her out from the orphanage, where she lived until she turned thirteen, for misconduct. Her breasts were full and round, when I first had her in the broken building inside the rubber plantation where she came everyday in the early morning to collect the latex. If you asked her to sit she would lie down for you. She was already bad and ruined in the orphanage itself. That is why they threw her out from there. No body knew that. She had a foster parent in some foreign country, and her parents wanted to get money from him, that is why they put her in the orphanage. Otherwise, why did they even send her there, when she had both her parents alive? They were all tramps in her family. Her aunt was a hooker in the street, you don’t know that. Nobody in this village knew. That is why they all felt pity for them when they knew Sandya got knocked up. She was eight month full, even before her mother knew about it. She was hiding it until then. And they felt pity because she was only fourteen.

Nag was telling his side of the story, may be nobody ever listened to him so far. He was chased away from the village eight years ago, not by the people but by the news that he is the one who made the little girl Sandya pregnant. People were talking about it everywhere, in the houses and in the street corners, mainly because they were bored and did not have anything much to discuss about. They kept talking about it until one evening, when the dispute between two drunkards in the street ended up in the death of one being stabbed by the other. Then they started making stories about those drunkards.

It was a hot summer afternoon, when Sandya’s father Appu went to the street corner and broke the news to the people who were gathered there. That son of a bitch ruined my girl; she is full in her stomach now. That is what he said holding the half burned cigarette between his shivering fingers, and he said that as if some one had instructed him to do so. They always thought this Appu is a real idiot, a good for nothing kind, who never knew what the women in his house were up to, a stupid creature deprived of any humane emotions. But his sound came out like the soft cry of a cow when he said, ‘My little baby, you know, she has been sick in her heart for long now.

Nag was gone already. He got the news early that day from Santo. He had just finished his lunch and came out of his house when he found Santo coming running to him. He thought Santo was coming to call him to go play ball that afternoon. He didn’t really want to go play, especially when the day is that hot. ‘That bitch is loaded, and she says it is you’, that is what Santo said. He did not ask who, because he knew who he was referring to. ‘You were the only one who touched her ever, that is what she is saying.. Run better, you run from here’, Santo said in one single gasp. And that is exactly what Nag did. He ran from there, after taking whatever he could find from his sister’s purse.

That was the only thing that made any sense to me at that time, to run. My sister was saving the money for her marriage and that was the money I took from her purse. Her marriage might be delayed because of what was happened to me, or even stopped, who want to marry a girl whose brother has got such a bad name here. It was a real shame. But I did not think anything about that then, just fled with whatever I got. And that is what Santo told me to. He must be thirteen or fourteen at that time, but he told me to run in a stern voice. That is what I did. And that is where he won and I failed. Yes, you should know, I failed to see his deceit.

I did not know where to go even after I reached the town bus station. I took the first interstate bus to reach there at the station. Nothing came to my head so I walked aimlessly like a stray dog. I stubbed my left toe real bad and it was bleeding heavily. It did not pain a bit and I didn’t even know when or where I stubbed my toe, but the blood never stopped coming and a piece of skin was hanging from the wound. Wind was heavy, churning up the dust and dragging it along. I felt my hair stiff with dust and the sun was pinching on my face. Didn’t have anything to wipe the blood with and I wanted something to cut off that piece of skin and flesh, which was soaked with blood and dust and still hanging. Didn’t know why the driver of the bus, which was parked nearby raising the engine so loud. That roar got into my head along with the wind and the dust and stayed there for ever. The roar never stopped, why he is doing this to me at this time.
‘Shut your engine down, you filthy dog’, I told him.
He came down from the bus and pocked his finger into my cheek, pushed me to the other side of the bus station. And that is where I found a bus to Putu cottai, where some of my relatives from my mother’s side lived. I didn’t know them well, but I had seen an old lady and her son once or twice and they were good people.

They did not even ask me why I went there when I reached there at night. After a couple of days they guessed there was something wrong. They thought I killed somebody and hiding from the police, until I told the truth to the old lady’s son when we went to the river to take bath. I stayed there for a long time, with them, until I heard that the girls parent went to the police and my father settled the case by offering them some money. I didn’t know where he got the money from, may be he had to sell the house and a little land of our own. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get off the hook; it was too bad, you know. If you don’t live your life carefully, it will come back to you some time sooner or later like a mad dog, and then the only choice you are left with is to run. My father also told me that the girl Sandya, gave birth to a boy and it looked exactly like Santo. And that is what I said; he won when I ran away. It was the culprits who flee, he must have told everybody.

You don’t know that son of a bitch, the one who asked me to run. No body suspected him, because he was a child, just thirteen or fourteen. But a spoiled one, I must know. From the age of ten itself he had had bad games with the woman from his neighborhood, whose husband was working abroad as a farm laborer and comes only once in two or three years. She used to call him at nights because she was too sacred to sit alone. He didn’t even know what she was doing with him, at that age, it was bad. That is what I said, he was the spoiled one. And that is where he developed those bad tastes and a reckless courage that made that girl pregnant. I should have known that, but I couldn’t, so I ran away. To run away, that was the bastard asked me to do, remember. He must have planned that, planned it well, and I ran away from my life like a culprit, in shame. You never understand that feeling, you don’t. It was horrible, running away in bad shame.

Hours were unusually long during those days. I never counted the days then, during the day time mostly stayed on the river side. Listening to the sound of the river, lay down on the sand for hours and days. When the evening light falls slanting on the water at dusk, you can hear the river calling you to go into it. Some say it is dangerous even to listen to that song of the river, because it is very enticing some times, especially when you are alone. Some times I took bath four, five times a day, because I didn’t have anything else to do. Out of pure boredom, once I decided to cross the river by swimming. When reached halfway, I realized how bad it was. Current was too strong and I was not a good swimmer. It dragged and pulled me down, that made me drink the yellow muddy water. I was too tired, gasping for air often times, but I still kept swimming until my feet hit the sand bed on the other side. But swimming back was really tough. At the surface, water looked calm and the small ripples only moved it back and forth a little, that made one think that the river is still and quiet. But underneath it was too vicious and it pulled me and twisted me like a string that it wanted to elongate. I drank more and more muddy water and felt short of breath. I even cried for help, but no one was there on the shores. No one goes there at that time, I guess. I was drowning, I felt like I was breathing in water and my hands and legs went stiff. This is how people die in water, I thought. And then, I didn’t know from where, Santo’s face came to my mind. That thought came to me like a thunder bolt, so strong and violent. Yes, that son of a bitch, I cannot let him win like that. You think, I am talking revenge here, NO, it is not. I just wanted to get even with him. It was a feeling from the stomach and ran all the way to the head and arms like fuming acid flowing through your veins. It made my arms stronger and the chest tougher to beat the water hard and move forward. When I felt the sand underneath my feet I got up and started walking, I was coughing and puffing but still I walked. Something inside made me walk strong and fast as if I was reborn from that river. Reborn with a destiny, that it was.

I walked until I reached the shop where they sold good knifes near the meat market. ‘Nine inch would be enough, but should be sharp and tough. Even if you hit the chest, it should cut through the ribs’, I told the man in the shop. He thought I was talking about cutting the goat. He showed me a good one. It’s handle was round and smooth, even had a decorative carving where the blade meet the handle, and had good grip. It was sharp and hard. You never know how strong are the hands that going to use this, so the knife should be strong and sharp. This should do it. Every time I hold that knife, an electric jolt came from my stomach like a storm to my head and arms. It made my ears hot and felt my head heavy and made my arms strong and the grip firm. Nine inch is enough. But the thrust is important, you should push it all the way through, doesn’t matter where you hit, thrust it all the way through, all the nine inches. And keep it there until he stops flexing. Just like the way when you wring the neck of a chicken, where you hold its wings and legs under your feet even after you hear that clicking sound of its neck breaking, because if you leave it then it will jump and flap its wings with its head hanging from one side. It is pretty bad, you don’t have anything against the chicken you kill.. do you?. That is why it is important to hold it there until he stops flexing. I told you it is not revenge I am talking about.


I came here to see you, you know, after eight long years. I heard that you are coming, that is why I came to this village where we grew up. I did many things in these years, you know. Several jobs, lived in different places, met and forgot many people. Now things are different, I even have a job with the government. Now, look at that kid, sitting by that creek. This bastard is the son of that son of the bitch, Santo, who made me run like a culprit and made my life a shame, but not anymore. Not after I came up from that river. I wanted to have a look at this kid, that is why I came. I don’t know what his name is. It doesn’t matter; he is a bastard, that what he is. I wanted to know what he got inside. Have you ever looked at his eyes? He got something burning inside. I just want him to keep it burning. He knows what he see when he look at the mirror. It is definitely there, inside him, kindling like charcoal. I just have to keep it going, until it is the time. Until his hands are strong enough to hold my knife. Now I know the knife and the hands which are going to use it. It is like solving a riddle. And I just have to wait, for everything to fall in place. Wait until his hands are strong enough to hold it, strong enough to make that push to all the nine inches in and hold it there tight until he stops flexing. Yes. I just have to wait.

Pool Rules
--- --------
Rajeev works-out every day after work in the sports center gym. He felt that it was his regular exercise that kept his back ache away, which he used to have occasionally. He felt really bad and uncomfortable if he skipped working-out for a couple of days. His wife Rekha also goes to gym with him some days. Despite his encouragement, she was not very regular at gym and she had many excuses like too tired, wanted to make a few phone calls this evening etc. But she decided to come today, because their daughter, Neethu wanted to swim in the indoor swimming pool adjacent to the gym. They had a family membership in the sport center, so the family members can use different facilities there. One end of the pool is six, seven feet deep. But there are two guards at work at the pool watching out for kids. Moreover Neethu knows swimming. Last summer Rekha took her to swimming lessons, and she also practiced throughout the summer. So they were comfortable leaving Neethu at the pool alone.

“No diving. Just swim. Take breaks if you want to.
We will be back in forty-five Minutes.”

Neethu was already in the water and ducked before Rekha could finish.

Rehka always did bicycles or elliptical trainers for the first half hour of her workout; and she read something while exercising, she said it is boring otherwise. Rajeev preferred treadmill to warm-up and he watched TV while working-out. Elliptical trainers are located close to the entrance and you can see a portion of the swimming pool from there. Rekha started with elliptical trainers, from there she bend her body and tried to look for Neethu on times. But she could not see her, as Neethu was in the waterslide diving into the water on the other side of the pool. She was afraid to do that until last week, but once she found out that she could do it and that it was fun, she always wanted to do that.

They had plans to go to Satheesh’s house for dinner that evening. Satheesh’s wife Lakshmi was calling them for a while. They were putting it off for many reasons. Actually it was Rajeev, who does not want to go anywhere. He liked to spend his evenings sitting at home watching TV or reading books. But Rekha enjoy going out to places and meeting people, where she can showoff her new dress or a piece of jewelry and chat non stop. According to her, it is the only fun and enjoyment we have here in America away from our real home and family. She did not agree with Rajeev, when he talked about the facilities available here in America which we can use to improve the quality of life. She did not think those things could offset what they are missing out, mostly family and friends.

Rajeev finished his sets fast and came out of the gym early. He took only a little over half an hour today. He gave signal to Rekha with his hands, asking her to come out; she was still in the elliptical. She asked him to go and pick up Neethu from the pool.

“I will wait outside”, She said.

No one was in the pool at that time. There was notice saying that “pool is temporarily closed” and he saw little kids waiting outside in their swimming dresses wet and dripping. Some one said, “They will open it in fifteen minutes”. Neethu was sitting in a chair beside the pool, and the pool boys were cleaning the area around the pool. Rajeev went into the pool from the back door to pick Neethu up. She was dripping too and her eyes were red.

“What happened? “ Rajeev asked her by holding her hands.

“I got sick and threw up”, She said.

“She did a lot of diving today. I think that made her sick”, a pool boy said.

“And she can’t swim here today. If someone get sick and throws up we won’t allow them to swim on the same day. That is the pool rule”, the boy continued.

“That’s fine” Rajeev said wiping Neethu’s head and body with a towel.

“Amma, I can do the water slide and jump into six feet now. I am not afraid”, Neethu said looking up at Rekha’s face when they found her standing outside the building.

“Did you do a lot that today?” Rajeev asked

“NO”, she said.
“She made a mess there. She threw up in the pool. They closed the pool and cleaning” Rajeev said to Rekha.

“I did not throw up in the pool, only on the side of the pool” Neethu corrected Rajeev.

“You made a mess there anyway “, Rajeev said walking towards the place where they parked their car.

“I told you not to give her any food before going to swimming”, he said to Rekha.

“I did not give her any food, just a glass of milk”, said Rekha

“Don’t give her anything before going to the pool. I felt very bad that they had to close the pool and cleaning all that. This is a common pool, we should know that”, Rajeev said

“Never mind, these things happens in a pool where a lot of kids go to swim. And we are paying for the facilities. It is their duty to keep it clean. “, Rekha said spreading a dry towel on the car seat for Neethu to sit without wetting the car seat.

“Can you sit with me in the back seat, Amma ? “ Neethu asked as she did always.

“No. I will sit in the front seat with Dad”, Rekha said closing the doors.

* ** ** * ** * ** * ** *

Hurry or no hurry Rajeev takes bath quick. He dresses up even quicker. Blue jeans and a shirt, usually half sleeve, is his usual dress for any informal parties. When he came out of the dressing room, Rekha was putting the wet clothes of Neethu in the washing machine. She already gave bath to Neethu and dressed her up.

“It is already seven. We should be there by 7:30”, Rajeev Said walking down the steps towards the family room.

Neethu was in the family room just looking at the gift, neatly rapped with colorful gift rap. They always take a small gift when they are invited to dinner parties. It could be a toy for the kids in the house or a piece of nice but inexpensive chinaware.

“What is in this gift box, Daddy”, Neethu asked

“Don’t know, ask Amma”, He said, switching on the TV.

“Cartoons, Please” Neethu said when TV came on.

Actually he wanted to watch the evening news. But he put cartoon for her and sat with her for some time, looking at the TV without paying any attention.

Neethu laughed loud when a bunny choked on carrot, that it was eating and it eyes came out and finally falling on its nose.

“Is it funny”, He asked

“Yea”, she said without taking her eyes off the TV.

It was already seven-thirty. Rajeev went up to check on Rekha.

“We are getting late”, He said.

“I will be out in a minute”, she said.

“What are you wearing today, Sari or Indian national dress juridhar “, He asked, thinking that she would take more time if she plans to wear sari.

“I thought sari is our national dress and juridhar is more like a north Indian dress”, She said

“Well, sari is also north Indian. I think Raja Ravi Varma’s paintings made it popular in the south”. He said

“Is it so”, she was curious.

“I don’t know. I just thought so.”, he said.

She came out wearing a light yellow juridhar. She also wore a red dot of Vermilion powder on the upper forehead, right at the beginning of the central parting of her hair.

“Where is Neethu” , she asked

“Watching TV”, He said

* ** ** * ** * ** * ** *

“Come on in. We just called you in your home number. But no body picked up, so we thought you were already started from there” Lakshmi said, while they were walking into their house.

“Sorry, we are a little late”, said Rajeev.

“No problem, No problem. You can leave late too. Tomorrow is Saturday. So it is all fine”, Satheesh said cheeringly.

Satheesh and Lakshi have two kids and the elder one is about the age of Neethu. All the kids ran upstairs saying something between each other and giggling.

Rajeev, Rekha and Laksmi sat down in the family room and Satheesh poured red wine in two glasses.

“Red wine is very good for health”, Satheesh said.

“Yaaa Yea”, Rekha said mockingly. She did not like Rajeev drinking.

Lakshmi did not say anything. She switched on the TV and tuned to a new Indian channel, which they are getting through their dish antenna.

Laksmi and Rekha talked about the different contestants in the music program showing in the TV.

Satheesh and Rajeev sat there and drank wine. They did not get into their usual subjects like Indian politics and job market in Bangalore or Chennai, yet.


“We need at least three, four families to make the party fun, Right ?”, Rajeev said finishing the glass of wine.

Satheesh filled the glasses again and made some passing remarks about the singers came up on the TV.

“Can we have food now?” Lakshmi asked.

“Yes, I am hungry”, said Rekha,

“We went to gym today and that make me double hungry”, she continued.

“Where are the kids? Gave them food too.”, Said Satheesh.

“Yes. Yes. Give the kids first.”, Rajeev said.

“Neethu must be really hungry. She went for swimming today. She dived there too much, got sick and threw up in the pool” , Rekha said.

“Ayyoo! Don’t make that to happen again, Please. Very dangerous. Please don’t.” Lakshmi said with hands on her head.

“What? What happened? “ Rekha asked.

“Didn’t you know about that? It happened just three days ago.” Lakshmi said sitting down on the love seat opposite to the sofa where Rajeev and Rekha were sitting.

“It was in the Realton apartment complex on the south side. They have a very good pool there.
This family, also from south India, goes to swimming there every day it seems, father, mother and a five year old boy. The mother was pregnant, so she sat on a Chaise Lounge watching them swimming. The boy did not know swimming well, and the father was teaching him. After a while the boy got hungry and went up to his mother to eat something; they pack snacks when they go for swimming. You know that itself is a bad habit. You should not eat anything while swimming, especially kids. This boy, stuffing something in his mouth, he jumped right into the pool, his father did not see, he was talking to someone.

You know what happened. In the jump, he drank water and he threw up and choked, nobody saw.. He drowned for a minute without anybody seeing. Then somebody shouted and they pulled him out of the water. The boy was still choking, short of breath and he was blue. Someone called emergency. The boy was shivering and jerking, he could not breath.. he was already blue when they took him out of water. His mother, you know she was eight month pregnant; she fainted and fell down on the floor. They didn’t know what to do. Paramedics reached in fifteen minutes. But it was too late for the boy. The boy was gone, they couldn’t save him. He was already dead ten minutes ago by then. Think, just five years old, in front of his father and mother. They couldn’t do anything, helpless. Paramedics took the mother to the hospital. “

“It is very dangerous, Swimming pools.. … You know”. Lakshmi said, to finish up her narration.

“But can’t they …. Why shouldn’t…. Don’t he“ Rekha could not finish her sentence. Actually she did not know what to say. She was in a shock.

She looked at Rajeev blindly, but he was staring at the TV.

No body said anything for a while. Indian music from the TV filled the room.

Suddenly there was cry from upstairs. Kids were very calm until then. Lekshmi ran up to check on the kids. Rekha also followed her.

“What happened there? “ Satheesh asked loudly

“Nothing, just toys sharing problem”, Lakshmi replied.

They did not stay long after dinner.

In the car Rekha sat with Neethu in the back seat.

When the car started Rekha said “Next time when she go for swimming, you should also be there with her. Okay”.

Rajeev tried to see Neethu through the rear viewing mirror. But he saw Rekha was looking at him. They looked at each other for a second and did not say anything.

A Journey to Ayyappa
-----------------------------
[The shock wave sent by Shabarimala Deva preshnam has not yet subdued. Actually it is only starting to reveal the many facets of the ugly, money hungry and lustful caucus surrounding the Ayyppa snnidhanam.
After the devaprshanam ….

Preiya Thanthri and Chinna Thanthri said, “ Deva Preshnam wasn’t good. ……. And Ayypaa will reveal the truth”.

Borad members Said, “Deva Preshnam was great, will go ahead with the findings…..and Ayyappa will reveal the truth”.

Astrologer who did DevaPrshnam Said, “Everything was perfect, except that I am not a brhamin …. And Ayypaa will reveal the truth”.

A group of astrologers (who did not get the chance to do the devaprshnam) said, “ Devaprshnam was a farce …………… And Ayypaa will reveal the truth”.

Actress said.” I did this that bla bla bla ……… And Ayypaa will reveal the truth”.

After the sex scandal …..

china Thanthri said, “ I went there for the pooja ( Actually he does this sort of poojas in a regular basis ) …………… And he dared to add Ayypaa will reveal the truth”.

Every body else said, ….Ayypaa will reveal the truth…..]


This is off-season for shabarimala, and so the news did not reach sannidhanam fast enough.

Lord Ayyppa untouched and unscathed by any of these, was in a deep meditation. He knew everything, but did not open his eyes, his meditation continued. Shanthi… Shanthi…

Unlike in shabarimala, news reached pumba on time, where Vavar , was deeply agitated by all these nonsense in the name of his only soul mate- his lord. At one point he even pulled up his sword, but later calmed down by the blissful presence of his lord with in him. And he decided to climb the hill to see his lord.

At Sannidhanam; Ayyappa was in his meditation. Vavar appeared with folded hands and said “ Sharanam Ayyappa”.

Ayyappa slowly and gracefully opened his eyes, happy to see his great friend , got up and embraced him, with affection.

Lord Ayyappa, “Dear friend, what made you come here and wake me up from my meditation?”

Vavar (his eyes were red with anger), “ Didn’t you hear about all those nonsense? You must have. You know everything.”

Lord Ayyappa ( Smiling) ,” what do you want me to do. Investigate”?

Vavar; “why not. Let’s investigate. There are women involved, since you are a brahmachari, I will take care of that part.”

Lord Ayyappa; “Okay. We do investigate. Shabari will accompany you to investigate the part where women are involved”

Vavar : “ Why shabari the illiterate, low cast? “

Lord Ayyappa; “She may be illiterate and low cast. But she knew me. When she knows me, she can know anything. And I myself will investigate the others.”

Vavar and Shabari walked off.

Lord Ayyppa was trying to enter the dream of Chinna Thanthri to find the truth. But he could not. Thanthri’s dream was full, mostly with strange women, Ayyappa hesitated to enter. Losing patience, Ayyappa finally sought the help of Carl Jung , who by now was elevated as the lord of dreams. Carl Jung rushed in and cleared thanthri’s dream for Ayyappa to enter.

Ayyappa slowly entering into Thanthri’s dream.

Thanthri; “ Who are you. Did I see you somewhere? Look familiar…. Can’t remember .. cannot remember”

Ayyappa: “what do you remember mostly then?”

Thanthri : “ Lot of things.. Its life you know.. Got to do a lot of things.. need money..money…money”
( a bunch of currency notes also entered into the dream space)

Ayyappa:” Where is this money from?”

Thanthri :” It always follows me wherever I go. I have a life long bond with money. You just have to born into certain families. That’s all. Money follows. Devotees give money. What does the lord need? He does not need money, just some ghee for abhishekam. But devotees , you know .. they come like marching ants.. Yes like ants.. they bring money ..a lot. They threw the money to my feet. I told you, money comes to me, and it is natural. ”

Ayyappa:” What you do with that money?”

Thanthri :”Its life , I told you. You know long poojas and those darshanam to devotees, make me tired. We need enjoyment too. So I spend money for that. I spend money for things I want, like pretty women.. (continuing with excitement) You want to know the other day……

Ayyappa withdrew himself from thanthri’s deram.

Now he is into the dream of a Devasowm board member.


Ayyappa:” How are the things?

Member : “ Fine thanks ..Busy .. to start the projects..”

Ayyappan : “why projects?”

Member : “ We need to do a lot of projects.. Rope way.. Buildings ..Construction.. Construction is the key. You know a member have only 3 years. We need to do maximum during the time. Money come from the projects.. money.. projects.. money.. projects..”

Ayyappa just turning away ..


Memebr; “Bye the way you look familiar. But Can’t quite remember.?”

Ayyappa disappeared from his dream to enter the dream of the Astrologer who did devaprshnam.

Ayyappa : “ Is all the stars doing okay?”

Astrologer:” Stars are fine. But it is the people who make all the issues for me”

Ayyappa “You thing you are innocent?”

Astrologer:” Off course, I am! Not only innocent but very efficient one too. See, do you blame a big corporate if they are loyal to their client and give what they want. NO..See .. here the board hired me, I gave them what they want. They are very happy with that. Aren’t they? Then what is the problem. I did justice for my client.. If the thanthri or someone else want something , let them hire me… see I am open“

Ayyappa: “ What about the stars. Don’t they suppose to tell the truth?”

Astrologer: ” Chey.. Chey.. Don’t make a fool out of yourself sir. Stars always said one thing .. only one thing.. that is
…..Deepa sthambum mhashcharyam .. Namukkum kittanam MONEY… that is it...”

It was almost morning, Ayyappa decided to enter the dream of a poor guruswamy who visits the sannidhanam every year and brings only a coconut filled with ghee.

There was a fog of confusion and helplessness filled in his dream space. Ayyappa entered through the fog, slowly.
On the glimpse of the delightful sight, the guruswamy jumped up from his bed with folded hands, not opening his eyes , out of fear that he might loose the vision of his lord
Guruswamy shouted in top of his voice “ Swamiyaee sharanamyyappa”

Ayyappan: (touching his forehead) “How you been?”

Guruswamy: ‘Never been better than this one moment, my lord. I have only one to ask , please don’t go away, please stay with me.. please lord..”

Ayyaappa.” I will stay with you. All the time.. With in you.. Look inward.. Well you already knows that.. I will always be with you my dear..”

Ayyappa disappeared into the fog..

Ayyappa back into sannidhanam. Going through the reports from Shabari and Vavar. He stood still. Closed his eyes for a moment,
Vavar could see a clear drop of ghee rolling down Ayyappa’s cheek, or was it a drop of tear. He turned his face away. Vavar have never seen his lord’s eyes wet. He was always the noble, unbeatable, victorious warrior.. Villaly Veeran.. But now they defeated him.. they all joined together… no not defeat … but the pain.. See my lord.. After all he too is a human avatar..

When vavar turned to look Ayyappa again, he found him with his bow and fine arrow. Ayyappa set the bow straight.. Positioned the arrow, then he went into a deep contemplation before sending the arrow facing the dark forest.

His arrow passed through the thick forest, went beyond mountains and rivers and finds a pristine place, in the middle of the virgin forest. A small valley surrounded by mountains.

“Here, this is my place”, Ayyappa said.

Away away away away from the lustful caucus, into the thick forest.
Ayyapaa sits down in his favorite koormasan.
A huge leopard started circling him as if to protect the sanctity of the place.
Ayyappa closing his eyes into a deep meditation…

He sits there deep deep deeep deep in the forest, deep in the mind of a seeker, hidden away by the thick forest…deep inside…you don’t even know that he is there.

Now to see him, the seeker has to cross the forest, the thick forests of his own mind.
Climb steep mountains of hurdles that stand in front of him, he has to endure the pain of facing his own fear to climb high. But he must.

Once he reaches there, the bhakta has to rise to the level of Ayyappa.

Yes you have to rise to his level.
High up
18 steps high.

If you can do that
And only if you can do that
You will get the dharshan of the lord.

Then the lord will call you by his own name “AYYAPPA”

He will then embrace the Bhaktha
And you will hear the secret, from his holy tongue, in his blissful voice.

The secret of ‘Tat Tvam Asi ‘.

Asokakumar Nair.

The peanut seller
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“It is easy”, Surendran said, “she always sleeps in the afternoons sitting under the tree with her legs stretched”. And the old lady could not see well too. Surendran was convincing holding ten paisa in his hand and others agreed to him, but I was a little afraid. Nothing happens. It is simple. He explained his game plan, you three stand here, behind the tree; I will go to the old mondi (the lame one), give her ten paisa and ask her peanut candy for one rupee. She will give four bars, one each of twenty-five paisa. She won’t know in the sleep and she cannot catch us later, how could she know who gave her this ten paisa. We stayed behind the tree; Surendran went down the steps leading to street from the school courtyard. It was easy to spot him from a distance as he wore red shirt and red trouser made of cheap cotton cloth. Only a few kids wore the school uniform, blue trouser and light yellow shirts. Students are only advised to wear school uniform, not a must, as many kids came to the school only for the afternoon lunch, wheat uppuma (boiled wheat tempered with oil, mustard seed and red chilly).

The Kadala moopathy’s ( Old peanut selling lady) house was just two furlongs away from the school on the opposite side of the road. Every morning before the school started she came and sat at the same spot, by the side of the steps leading to the school courtyard from the road. Her seat was made of old cloths folded several time for the cushion effect, in front of her was a polythene sheet to place her commodities. She had everything what a lower primary school kid desired for, peanut, hard candies, peanut candy bars, ripe and salted karaka (a wild fruit) in two small separate heaps. She also carried different types of pencils to write on the slate, like the hard pencil which lasts long, soft chalk like pencils in different colors, stylus like part of some sea creature (called sea pencil) etc.

The old lady had visitors all the time, Children and flies. Kids flock around her during the class intervals and on the lunch break, standing in a half circle around the polythene sheet with their eyes on colorful, sugary candies on the sheet. Most of the children went there to see the unwrapped and partially melted sugar candies, never had money to buy any, and then they meditated over their mental image of candies in the class rooms. Flies were a constant companion of her, swarming around the small heaps of sweets on the polythene sheet. To the greatest advantage of the flies, most of the time the old lady did not cover her items as it might obstruct the view of a potential buyer. Girls outnumbered boys whenever mondi had “chodokku” on her sheet. Chodokku is a wild flower in the shape of a small cup. Girls hold the open end of this cup with their thumb and index finger, blow air into it and gently hit the other side on their forehead by slightly releasing the grip to make a “tipk’ sound; some girls perfected this art with unmatchable dexterity. Occasionally some parents also came to her enquiring about their children, like how they were behaving around the school. To which Mondi said ‘tell them to use only the side walks, in the evening when they go home. You know that is the time the evening bus comes”.

Everybody called her either kadala moopathy or mondi. She did not have any other names. She never needed any other names as these two names distinctively and completely defined here for most people. She was lame, so the name mondi. She never complained to or cursed anybody for calling her by that name. She had accepted her deformity; then what is in a name. She is lame and she sold peanuts, and her two names told everything about her. If I tell you her name is mondi, you know how she walked and if I tell you her name is kadala mooppathy, you know what she did for a living. Which other name have this advantage. If I tell you ‘Valsalan’ was the name of a prominent person in my village, it does not give you any indication that he was a stringent communist and spent jail time during the emergency period, does it?

As he said, Surendran came back with peanut candy for a rupee for which he only paid ten paisa. He illustrated his triumph in detail while we all eat the peanut candy. But the celebrations did not last long, it was interrupted by a loud sneering of mondi. She shouted:- he is a thief. He cheated me. I thought it was a rupee. He cheated me, thief. He will suffer for stealing from me. I know him, the son of the sorcerer. He is the one who did it.

“Son of the Sorcerer” was not a curse. Surendran’s father was actually a sorcerer. Mothers called him home when their little ones had a fever, temperature or lingering common cold, as the first choice before they would take their children to the nearby primary health centre. He sits in front of the ailing kid with a handful of bhsamam (white ash) on a banana leaf and water in a kindi (samall spouted vessel to carry water for rituals ) ; uttering mantras holding his right hand stretched touching their forehead and sometimes snapping the fingers; and end it by applying the bhasmama on the forehead of the kid. But that was not the only kind of pooja he ever practiced. Occasionally he went out in the evening bus with strange people to perform his more vicious deeds and came back only in the morning. On those places he demanded rice and red clothes (pattu) for his rituals, both he always brought home after the witchcraft. That is the source of surendran’s red clothes.

No one else in the school wore red and red. Even in her half sleep, mondi was able to notice his red clothes, or was it the remnants of the mantra that his father uttered clinging to the red cloth and cheated him by telling the truth to Mondi.

“I am not going to let him go”, Mondi said.

“I know who his friends are too. I will hold them here until their parents come. I will tell their parents. I don’t let them go. I can’t loose money like this.”

“ I have three stomachs to feed. “

The two other stomachs she had to feed were of her grand children. Mondi’s daughter was once married to man from a distant village. He was an agricultural laborer. Mondi thought it would be a great help, when the couple decided to stay with her in her house. Thus he became the man of the house and often found work in and around the village. He hung his spade, the only asset he ever possed, on the front wall of the mud house every day after work. And when there was no work, the spade hung there all day on the wall revealing the proud presence of the man of the house , while he spend his time playing cards and drinking hooch. After their two children were born, time was really bad and some times he had to find work in the town and came back home only occasionally, until one day, he left for work and never came back. The spade, together with the mondi’s hope( of his return), dangled from the mud wall for some more time. But a few months later mondi’s daughter ran away with another man leaving the two kids under the sol responsibility of mondi. Next day Mondi sold the spade to a passerby for five rupees.

Mondi’s shouting dominated my thoughts for the day. And truly, in the night too.
“I know who his friends are too.
I will tell their parents. “
Mondi’s anger was mostly against the real culprit. But I too got frozen at the thought that mondi would leak this new to my father, may be to get her money fast enough.
Surendran pretended that he was not afraid of mondi’s threats and even said, he would seek the help of Dharman ( people called him ‘Pottan’ as he was deaf) to silence her. Pottan is the only one who can challenge mondi, and he would do anything if I could buy him two cigarettes, he said.

No, I told him. It is not going to work. Give her the money back. That is the only way, get it from the pocket of your father, when he come back from one of his nightly duties and sleep late in the morning. Pottan cannot help. Because I knew what mondi was capable of.

Once in a while there were other people, mostly young ladies from the neighborhood, challenged mondi’s monopoly of selling things in the school compound. They arranged more items and sat on the other side of the school steps. But with some magical powers of mondi, children never went to the new seller in good numbers. In a day or two, or a week to the maximum, they all left wrapping up their business and counting their losses. They all said one reason for their failure, unbearable smell. The pungent smell of urine drove them all away.
“That old witch urinated in our spot,
How can we sit there, in that smell?
We cannot do that to her.
It is public road” They said.

Mondi never replied to their allegations or cursed them back.
“I have to feed three stomachs” , She said quietly.

But it was true that Mondi was ,often seen, urinating on the road side by standing up, like men do, in broad daylight. Nobody ever bothered her when she did that, except for Pottan, who howled at her. Mondi cursed him with filthy words, dipped in her urine to make it acrid enough to penetrate his deaf ears. That also caused his sound to die in his throat before it came out, when he tried to howl in response and made him deaf and dumb, for a brief period.

I knew Pottan was no match for Mondi. And Surendarn knew that too.

He brought a one rupee coin next day, stolen from his father’s pocket. Unlike mondi, his father never knew how much he had in his pocket or how much he paid for hooch previous night. He threw the coin into mondi’s lap as if his is taking a revenge at her. Mondi in return did not say a word and give him four candies for ten paisa, which he paid the previous day. Mondi never told the incident to anybody else, as I afraid.

Why would she? She cared only about the three stomachs that she had to fill every day.

Mazha(rain) saint is story written about a man who used to visit our village during my childhood. We was not a real saint(sanyasi) , he was not a beggar either, but with some twist of karma he was caught in between the two. This is my humble effort to remember him.




Mazha swamy (Rain Saint)
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I don’t know whether I liked him or not but we, all the children in the village, were curious about Mazha swamy. He had a long flowing white beard and he covered his thin fragile body with saffron colored robes which gave him the look of a good sanyasi from the cartoon stories. The stick he carried was mostly used to chase away the barking dogs than to aid his walking. On some occasions he used to bark back at the dogs instead of wagging his stick that made some people believe that he knew how to talk to the animals. He also carried a conch which he occasionally blew. For us he was a character from the story book and that, I believe, was the main reason for our curiosity towards him. It was augmented by the fact that we never knew where he lived, where he came from or when exactly he would mysteriously appear next time. He offered us sweet smelling holy ashes (bhasmum) every time he came by.

He used to come at an interval of at least two weeks with his prediction of when we would have our next rain as a prelude to his appearance. He would say “it would rain after the “Vavu” or “after the kollamkodu thookkam” and some times with a stern face “there won’t be any rain soon, people are becoming more arrogant and rude. They shall be tested ( iththavana avere kanakkinu pareekshikkum) , but don’t worry the good ones would be spared “ . Many a times the rain did not respect his holy predictions and it came down whenever it liked. Many people did not believe in his rain predictions, and for that matter, they did not believe in what Aakashavani said on rain either. But on rare occasions when his prediction came true, my grandmother was the first one to point out that ‘mazha swamy said so’.

Some people said he has a house and a family somewhere. But for some he was just a reprobate used to sleep on the verandas of street side shops. Some even said that he used to sleep in graveyards, and that was where he got his ashes from. Some told their children that mazha swamy carried human bones in his bags and would give away their misbehaving kids to mazha samy as a trick to discipline them. But stories like this did not prevent us from looking at him as good samnyasi or taking bhasmaum from him.

It was not only the kids, but many grownups also did not know much about him as they did not answer our many doubts about mazha swamy. But unlike the children the grownups didn’t pay much attention to him. I even thought that in the complex world of grownups mazha swamy did not even exist. They gave him a glass of rice, which he usually takes as bhiksha, every time he visited with out even looking at his face long enough to see how the wrinkles appeared on his sun burned face to form the outer contours of a conch when he said ‘shanbhu mahadeva” with a smile after receiving the offering. Then he blared his conch in full sound, gave out bhasmum to everyone and took leave. I always thought they could easily peep into one of his many bags when they get closer to give him rice at least to confirm that it did not have any bones, but no one ever did, and so, what he actually had in his bags (bags are made out of old cloths folded and stitched) remained as a mystery for the rest of our lives.

Later mazha swamy came less frequently, like once in a month or even less often. We, kids, failed to realize that his visits were less frequent as we were not counting his appearances. Elders said he is getting too old, that is why. Mysteriously, the rain was also became less frequent about the same time. Some said it was nothing to do with the Mazha swamy’s less frequent visits, but the after effect of cutting down trees and global warming, because for them that was only logical. I did not understand that logic, why should I loose my rain for some one else cutting down trees. Wouldn’t the good ones be spared while the bad ones were tested as mazha swami always said?


As kids, we did not recognize that mazha swamy was getting old as he looked the same with his white flowing beard, fragile body and saffron cloths on it. But we noticed that he started walking slowly and used the stick for walking rather than scaring the dogs away. He adopted a new technique of standing still when an unfriendly dog approached until the dog went away or lost its curiosity. He said it always worked, but I knew that he mastered the language of silence and was silently conversing with the dogs to make them pacify.

After one unusually heavy rainy season, Mazha swamy stopped coming. My mother said he asked her to give him some cooked food (which he never did before) in one of his last visits. Now, years later I cannot clearly remember his face as every time I try, it is only a conch that comes to my mind in the place of his face. But the flagrance of his Bhasmum, which was his only offering, is still fresh in my memory. May be that is the only thing he had to offer to the world.


Asokakumar Nair.