Fishy Chronicles 77: The Webs We Weave (9) – Breaking point (cont'd)

Photo credit: A. Peter

We sat in the shade of a large tree in my great uncle’s courtyard, the heat and sweat adding to our stress. The older girls discussed what had happened, explored explanations and excuses, raged at Bobby the Brute and then slipped into silence.

Strangely, I wasn’t too bothered. This was an average day for me, though I was pleased my cousins had given Bobby the hiding of his life. Not for a moment had he thought his sisters would have had the courage to set him straight and how! (FC76)

I went to the back of the house and scratched the goat’s head. I wondered why someone would name their goat Petty. One of Appachan’s older brother Kunjappachan’s grandchildren had named the goat, and had been too young to know what it meant. Aju called the goat Petty because it liked to be petted. It didn’t have a petty bone in its body. It was sweet and gentle and ate everything in sight, including money. Unusually, Kunjappachan once gave Sarayumama a cash gift and, after leaving her uncle’s house, stood out of sight of the windows to count his generosity.

The story goes that the resting goat got up, plucked one of the notes from Sarayumama’s hands and gobbled it up. It took her a couple of seconds to register what had happened before she screamed, dropped the rest of the notes, pounced on poor Petty and tried to pry its mouth open – which is like opening the jaws of an inert crocodile. Mathan Uncle was conflicted – help his wife retrieve a masticated note or pick up the money on the ground. He chose the latter because by then her cousins had come out of the house and pulled the goat away from Sarayumama. My aunt wailed so much that Kunjappachan gave her another note to replace the one she had lost.

I decided to go and see what was happening with Sarah chechi. “You stay right here,” Shyla said.

“Why?”

Nina and Shyla, my older cousins, looked at each other blankly and then Nina said, “Because we should all be together when we have to go back and face them,” she tilted her head to indicate my grandfather’s house.

“I’ll be there when you face them. I’ll just come from the other direction.” I began to walk away.

“Don’t let anyone know we’re here,” Shyla said when I reached the road.

“They’re going to know when Kunjappachan returns home,” I didn’t turn because the girls and their complaints jarred my senses.

Except for the occasional vehicle on the main road, there was no noise in the village. The only sounds were of birds talking to each other or sometimes, if you listened for it, the movement of the river’s water.

I slowed as I reached my grandfather’s house, all was silent. The front door was open and there were people in the sitting room. The silence felt suspicious.

I climbed into the field adjoining the house from a spot where the barbed wire sagged, I had seen the workers come in this way, and darted behind the trees and got into the compound through the side entrance. I hugged the walls and crept along until I was near the Mathans’ room, from which a great deal of noise was coming.

“Those girls! Ammachi, you’ve got to deal with them firmly,” Sarayumama said. Her voice shrill and somewhat hoarse. I swatted away the idea of her voice leaving her this vacation. So far I had only seen this happen in the movies. And with my aunt’s luck she and her voice would bounce back brilliantly.

Ammachi murmured soothingly. In the background Bobby groaned. I felt fear creep over me but still crept closer to the open window. Through the worn half curtain stretched across the bottom of the window, I could make out my cousin lying on his parents’ bed and people sitting or standing around him, the stance of their bodies serious.

I crept towards the front of the house, but lost my nerve, so I turned and ran to the kitchen and slowed. Sonimol chechi, our servant, usually sat on the steps during quiet moments. Today she was not sitting here. With all the girls absconding and Ammachi and her daughters bent over Bobby, Sonimol chechi was probably neck deep in work.

As I moved I wondered if I was being foolish and courting more trouble. If the family caught sight of me, they’d immediately brand me the leader of the pack because I had broken Bobby before and he had it in for me bad. I stopped at the study window. Only the neighbours next door would be able to see me, but my great uncle and his family were sitting in my house now. Through the trees on both properties, I could see my cousins standing and watching me.

I leaned against the cool wall and parked my bum on the narrow ledge that ran right around the house. There were low murmurs coming from the study. I pressed myself into the wall by the window.

“You have to get her married sometime. The family is not very well off, but the boy is smart and has a good job in Mumbai. He’s also bought a flat, that is what Ivachan said. And once she finishes her Masters, she can get a job. Nowadays everyone wants a working girl.”

I tried to peer through the curtains. I couldn’t figure out who my great uncle was talking to. Or about which cousin.

“She’s attracting a lot of attention. Kunjumol says she doesn’t do any housework and disappears when she’s told to do something. How can she just walk away like that!” Appachan said.

I held my breath. There were several people crowded in the room. A chair scraped the floor and one of the doors to the study closed with a click. “Bobby says she ordered the girls to run and locked all the doors.”

“Not exactly,” Appa said. “Bobby said some of the girls beat him and Nina and Sarah locked him in.”

“It’s the same thing!” Appachan shouted. He hated his children countering him and Appa had done more than his fair share of it. “I am sure your daughter had a big role to play in it. She’s becoming a mirror image of Sarah everyday.”

“Bobby didn’t mention her. And Sarah is a smart, sensible girl, brilliant and full of promise. You shouldn’t force her to marry and ruin her chances at life just because she wants different things in life.”

“Keep quiet! Let’s organise a meeting with the boy’s family as soon as possible. Georgie, you speak to your daughter. Make her understand she has to get married soon. Maybe all this nonsense will end. She is almost 24, old by today’s standards. She’s a bad influence on the girls. A marriage will set her right. It will set everything right. You’ll see.”

I waited for Georgiechyan’s rebuttal, but there was silence in the room.

Soon, the men started leaving the room.

                                                    ******

I stayed plastered to the wall, feeling repulsed by what I had heard. I felt a deep disappointment for my cousin Sarah.

Because my relatives perceived her as stubborn and given to new ideas, she was going to suffer for it. I thought of my father’s sister Sarojmama and wondered at the haste of her wedding. After her marriage, she had given up all plans to study further or even sit for the civil services exams, which is why she had wanted to go to Delhi in the first place. Or was it?

I roused myself and darted to the front gate. I heard someone shout, but sped down the road towards the junction. I wondered whether to tell Sarah chechi what I had heard. There was no knowing how she would react. Sometimes I was scared of her.

I slowed near the junction and groaned. My nosey second cousins, who lived opposite Kunjappachan, were stuffing their faces at the bakery and called out to me. I listened to their sarcastic chatter, but smiled and shrugged at their queries. The girl, Eenya, who had just begun college, said, “I saw Sarah chechi and some of the girls walking around the church compound. Is it someone’s birthday or death anniversary today?”

“No, Eenya chechi, they are just there to pray. I’m going to join them.”

I turned to run, but her brother Thomachan grabbed my upper arm to hold me still. “Wait. We heard a lot of shouting in the afternoon. What’s going on at the big house?” On a quiet day one could hear people quarreling in other houses. And if people stood in their courtyards, they could probably make out the gist of the argument. People usually stopped what they were doing to listen.

“There was a rat in the house, we beat it some but it escaped into one of the rooms. We don’t know where. No one wants to be in the house until it’s trapped.” I did consider Bobby a rat, and for sure Appa and Amma would consider my take on today’s happenings (FC76) a travesty of the truth – but then, who was ever going to know the truth.

“Uh-huh.” My cousins looked at me closely, but I held their gaze. Finally they nodded slowly.

I broke into a run, only slowing as I reached the tall gates of the church. The gates to heaven, Sarayumama once told me. There were some older men standing by the church offices, watching Sarah chechi and the girls. They were in the graveyard adjoining the church, walking over the graves in the crammed cemetery and reading out the names on the tombstones.

“Have you also come to check out the graves? Is it a city thing? Aren’t there any graveyards in Madras or Bombay*?” One of the men tossed at me, laughing at his friends. I didn’t know who he was, but for sure he knew my family.

I walked into the dark, cool church, light coming through the open doors and windows. I felt alone and free and at peace. I stood by the huge lamp hanging from the ceiling at the centre of the church and filled with holy oil. I prayed that only the best should happen to Sarah chechi. I dipped three fingers in the holy oil and drew a cross on my forehead.

Rita waved to me. She was holding Sarah chechi’s hand and they were leaning over a grave. I knew it was our grandfather’s grandmother’s grave. Some of her children and grandchildren were in the same grave and I sometimes wondered if they got out when it was quiet and played or talked. We stood on another grave to stare at the stone slab, reading again the names and years of births and deaths. It was a plain white slab that had grown in height over a century and a half. The original cross was cemented into the face of the grave.

“When are we going back, chechi?” I watched Eva, Tanya and Teena sitting together on a bench at the side of the church. Roma was lying on another bench, the only movement a hand fanning a newspaper over her face. She got up when she heard me and started walking over.

“If you’re bored you can go home,” Sarah chechi said. I didn’t care for the sarcasm.

“What about the others?”

“They’ll probably go home when they get the courage… or hungry,” she looked up and grinned.

“Aren’t you scared, chechi?” Rita said.

“Of what, baba?”

“Of what they’ll do to us. We beat Bobby and they will punish us for it.”

“Okay, and then what? Do you think they’ll beat us?”

“Er… n-no.”

“Shout at us?”

“Of course.”

“Isn’t that what they do every day? So they’ll shout louder and try to make you more scared.”

“But aren’t you afraid?” Rita persisted.

Sarah chechi shrugged her shoulders and laughed, all her perfect teeth showing. Her face was pink from the heat and she looked beautiful. “No.”

“So why didn’t you stay back to face them?” I asked, irritated by her nonchalance.

She grinned even more, “Felt scared, for sure, but I wanted some peace of mind too.” She started jumping across the graves again.

Roma and I turned to look at the young men who had just entered the compound. They glanced at us and went into the church. One man lingered near the entrance, looking at us, and then joined his friends.

                                                               ******

He waited until the rest of the girls had gone ahead and joined Sarah chechi who was walking slowly.

“Which of your cousins is that?” I heard the deep voice say. I shivered.

“One of my Bombay cousins. Hey, you, come here, slow coach,” Sarah chechi said and I hurried to her.

“Say hello to Johnny,” I shook hands with him and he laughed. He was dark and tall and quite good looking. “He’s Thomachan’s friend.”

I nodded. Sarah chechi pointedly looked at the group at the end of the road, and tilted her head towards them, telling me to be gone. I started walking reluctantly towards my cousins. I turned to look and Johnny waved. I waved back. I waited at the end of the road and watched the two say goodbye. Johnny walked the other way and disappeared.

                                                             ******

At the house, the girls disappeared around the back of the house to enter it through the kitchen. Sarah chechi scowled at them but walked in through the open front door. I, with Rita and Roma clutching my hands, followed.

The family – with a variety of expressions on their faces – was arranged in the front room. I was surprised at the looks of sympathy from some of the older women and men, but felt fear bubble up at the rage on Sarayumama’s face. Surprisingly, Kunjappachan was still at our house. And he had a warm smile on his face.

And then we saw Bobby, in the middle of the large red rexine sofa, propped up by his father and brother Mobby. He shifted position and let out a low groan.

“Look what you did to my son!” Sarayumama shouted. “You beat him, you junglees, where do you learn these things from!” she tossed a disparaging look at her sisters-in-law, who looked back at her stonily. “Well?” She screamed at Sarah chechi.

There was pin drop silence. She came closer and screeched into our ears, “Nothing to say?” Rita, Roma and I lowered our heads to avoid looking at her. “Aren’t you going to put some sense into your daughters’ heads? Are they going to go about bashing up boys and behaving like they aren’t from good families.”

Kunjappachan made a tutting sound. “Now, now, mol. I’m sure they will get a talking to.”

“Not good enough!”

“It will do for now,” Appachan said coldly.

“B-But…”

Bobby made a snivelling sound. And Sarayumama leaped at us. She grabbed Sarah chechi’s arms and tried to shake her, but Sarah chechi looked our aunt in the eyes calmly and stayed still. Sarayumama, much shorter than her niece, shook vainly instead.

Sarayumama let Sarah chechi go. A cunning look replaced the angry one. “Don’t worry, mol. A marriage will fix your stubborn temper for good. And sooner than you think.”

Sarah chechi’s eyes widened and her mouth opened, but closed immediately.

Sarayumama continued watching her niece gleefully. “What a pity your sister is hiding in the US, else both of you would have been sorted by now. You girls don’t have any manners.”

“Don’t talk about my daughters that way! Things will fall in place when they have to,” Georgiechyan said gruffly. He stepped forward and stood between his oldest daughter and sister, forcing both to move backwards. “Go to your rooms, children. The elders will talk to you about what happened.”

Sarayumama stood with her arms spread wide, blocking our way. “That’s it? That’s all? They brutalise my son and get away scot free?”

“If he had manners and learnt how to respect women, no one would have laid a finger on him,” Nina said from the dining room doorway.

Sarayumama ran to her and managed to beat my cousin a couple of times before Nina was pulled away by my aunts. Nina began to cry and there was sudden uproar.

The children and adults were screaming and shouting at the same time and Kunjappachan and my grandparents looked aghast at what had just happened.

“Quiet!” Appachan shouted. “Stop hitting the girls. We won’t talk about this now. Control yourself, Sarayu!”

“B-but…” the sound died in my aunt’s throat. For once my aunt couldn’t find her voice. There were angry looks from the rest of the room and some of the elders blocked the dining room entrance. From the dining room, we heard Nina crying and we pushed towards her.

This wasn’t the end of the matter. There would be an inquisition. My parents were glaring at me and I could feel my spirit, so far strong, wilt.

                                                             ****** 

Kunjappachan left after evening tea. His jokes and chatter loosened his brother. We girls first hid in the dining room and later moved into various corners of the house, answering the boys questions and then discussing plausible responses to any of Appachan’s questions between ourselves.

“What’s wrong with telling Appachan the truth?” Sarah chechi said sarcastically.

“He won’t believe us,” Shyla said.

“So what? You know he won’t. So why waste your time cooking up alternatives. Tell the truth and get it over with.”

“Did you see how Sarayumama beat me!” Nina raged.

“Why did you let her? You’re an adult, why did you let her touch you. She’s half your size, by the way. You could have pushed her away or pinned down her hands.”

“I-I didn’t think… besides the rest of them would have turned on me!”

“You don’t know that. And Sarayumama has a screw loose anyway.” There was silence and then a chuckle echoed around the room.

“You can’t say that,” Nina said, weakly, smiling.

But Sarah chechi had lost interest. Her father’s head appeared at the doorway. “You girls are wanted in Appachan’s study,” Georgiechyan smiled kindly.

We filed out of his bedroom and were walking towards Appachan’s study when I heard Sarah chechi ask, “What was that bit about my marriage?”

“Later.”

“What?”

I turned to look. Sarah chechi had grabbed her father’s arms, was leaning into his face and murmuring furiously, but Georgiechyan did not respond. He pushed his daughter forward. I held out my hand, and after a couple of seconds of hesitation, Sarah chechi took it. Her face was angry.

                                                             ******

As Sarah chechi had predicted, Appachan didn’t believe a word we said. It wasn’t anything he said, but his coldness all through. Worse, he let Bobby and the others sit in and we were interrupted often. Sarah chechi looked at the others calmly and refused to be drawn in. Only because our parents were present were we saved from a thrashing. 

We were soon told to leave. My aunt and grandmother smirked and laughed, telling us we deserved it. I wondered what “it” was. The study door closed with Appachan, Sarah chechi’s parents and my father and his brothers.

After everyone left the dining room, I returned to the closed study door, feeling fearful. I heard snatches of the conversation. Appachan spoke about a boy coming to meet Sarah. He had good prospects, he lived in Bombay. Plus he was highly recommended by Kunjappachan.

Sarah chechi declined politely, citing further studies and job prospects. At this point my grandfather shouted at her, telling her she had no choice in the matter. I felt a cold wet hand on the back of my neck and a ladle sting the back of my legs. I screamed when Ammachi started hitting me harder, trying to twist myself out of her grip. The study door flew open and Sarah chechi yanked my grandmother’s hand off my neck, pulled the large stainless-steel ladle out of her hand and threw it across the dining table. She dragged me away and let go of me in the corridor.

“Why do you have to sneak about! Why? Why can’t you be a normal kid and be silly and foolish and girly, like, like, like…” she pointed, frustrated, at my cousins watching us from a corner of the sitting room.

I felt my face on fire. I stayed quiet, unable to think of anything. Sarah chechi pushed me away from her and stomped off to her parents’ room and locked the door.

I stayed still against the wall until my parents took me to our room. We didn’t speak that night. Nor did anyone speak at dinner time. 

                                                             ******

* Madras is now Chennai and Bombay is Mumbai

This is The Webs We Weave (FC69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93. 94) series and is about events that occur during the narrator's childhood family vacation in Kerala, India. 

Please note that this is a work of fiction.