God's Own Komaram

Chapter 7

While walking along the Akkarapadam road with Kamala, Ananthan had been lost in thought. He was afraid that his efforts to get to Komaram Kalyani might lead to some unknown disasters.

When the shopkeeper introduced him to Kamala, she asked for his name and not the intention behind the search for Kalyani's life. She had told the shopkeeper that her grandma wouldn't reveal anything if she could not rely on Ananthan's words.

After half an hour, they reached the Akkarapadam road across the vast, beautiful paddy field. The road had carefully divided the paddy field into two halves. On one side, the land was like a vast area on the go of landfilling with red soil but left incomplete. Since the field had not been leveled, it had innumerable heaps and pits that resembled ups and downs. On one side, the paddy field touched the horizon, while the other had massive woodlands of coconut trees at its farthest visible end.

'Akkarapadam paddy field, which once used to fill pages of newspapers,' Kamala said, and smiled proudly.

Although Ananthan scrutinized the field as far as he could see, he could not spot the location in his nightmare.

He stopped for a while and told Kamala, 'There was a location where four long ridges intersected. It had blue water hyacinth flowers, but no paddy.'

'Yes, yes. It had been long since people used to grow rice crops here,' Kamala admitted and continued in a tone of grievance, 'The beautiful, blue-blossomed paddy field was blood-stained due to the brutal murders. You've read it in the old editions of newspapers, haven't you?' Ananthan nodded his head, and Kamala thought that he had.

She added in a low, scared voice, 'Komarams were killed and thrown above the blue water hyacinth flowers by the notorious goondas. My grandma says that their crimson costume and blood both floated on the blue water hyacinth, and it looked like the blue heavenly heart of Akkarapadam was torn to bleed. She still whimpers while recollecting it.'

'But it's all gone now,' Ananthan said to console her.

'No, it hasn't gone anywhere. As it had been a notorious area, none dared to occupy or buy it for any purpose.'

'But that notorious murder spot is not seen anywhere around here,'

'It's right behind my home,' she said.

'Yours?' Ananthan was startled to hear it.

'Yes. The goondas, like Karadi Santhosh, slaughtered Komaram Nanappan and hurled his bloodied body to the field. Grandma first saw the red hue slowly spreading to the blue water hyacinth flowers. She smelled some murder,' Kamala said, terrified like a witness.

'Only Komarams were killed?' Ananthan asked.

'I'm not sure about that. You can ask Grandma. Since I'm not interested in such stories, I don't listen to them. Those stories have nothing to do with us.'

'But your roots lie there,' Ananthan said, and she looked at him doubtfully. He clarified, 'I mean, such stories are the history of a place. It has a significant impact on the lives of the people there.'

'This is Akkarapadam Junction. See, that is Drishtisthanam,' Kamala explained, 'Long before, at the time of Kalyani, it was called Sayipstone. Now, a few people, like my Grandma, remember it.'

He found an almost destroyed hut-like structure with a thatched roof behind it. Seeing him looking at it, Kamala said, 'That was Gopalan's Tea Shop. You can hear about it in grandma's narration, but only if she is ever willing to do it.'

'There also used to be such a roof-thatched shed completely built with woven coconut palm leaves,' she said, pointing to an open roof-concreted bus waiting shed by the roadside, 'It was called the strike pandal, used by different political parties to go on strike. Their meetings were held here. The strike pandal was close to Gopalan's and Naykan's shops, and they had benefits. Most people engaged in heated discussions in the pandal had tea and beedi for each thought they delivered.' Kamala continued.

Ananthan, who walked beside her, had been looking at her all the way, seeking her facial features, gestures, and explanations. He thought that since Kamala had been unraveling his mysterious nightmare with tiny bits of description, she could be his soulmate.

'I wonder how you could know all these!'

'Yes, from my grandmother,' she said proudly.

'And about Kalyani?'

'Not much. You should know everything about Kalyani if you want to write about her. It'd be better for you to depend on my grandmother's real-life experience.'

Ananthan understood why Kamala was convinced to take him home without any hesitation.

'We all wish for a book on Komaram Kalyani. But none had come forth with such an intention. You're blessed. You're going to do something no one has ever done for Kalyani. You can be proud of yourself.'

Ananthan wished to reveal his nightmare to Kamala. His fear that she would take him for someone offended Kalyani.

After a while, she said, 'It was grandmother's long-cherished dream to narrate Kalyani's story to someone who could write it down. So that it can be kept as a credible historical book by her name, like,' she stammered for a moment and continued, 'Like Komaram Kalyani or God's Own Komaram.'

'Oh, you've given me the title for my book,' Ananthan was delighted, although he had no such intention then.

'She had been called Bhagavati's favorite Komaram,' Kamala said.

(to be continued)