Chemmeen

by T. S. Translated by Nair, Anita Pillai

  She walked on.

  Five

  In the wee hours of the following day, almost everyone gathered on the waterfront. Chembankunju’s boat was being put out to sea. Since there was a new boat, all other boats too had to be put out to sea at the same time. Chakki, Karuthamma and Panchami were at the shore too. Pareekutty too stood there but a little away. Panchami pointed out Pareekutty to Karuthamma. And Karuthamma pinched Panchami in return.

  Raman Moopan whooped loudly to call in the latecomers. Ayankunju chastised them. ‘How can they be late when they know there’s a new boat?’

  Chembankunju’s boatsmen were prepared. One of them began singing Pareekutty’s song. It was a song that throbbed with grief.

  Over the coconut palms in the east, the moon peeped to see Chembankunju’s boat being launched. The sea mother was happy. People gathered around each one of the boats. The first boat to be put out to sea would be Chembankunju’s.

  Ayankunju called out fluttering his palm on his open mouth to produce a series of sounds. Everyone else took up that auspicious cry as well. The seashore echoed with that cry.

  Raman Moopan said, ‘Take the oar, Chembankunju.’

  Chembankunju raised the oar and laid it on top of his head in an act of supplication. Then he prayed to all his family deities, asking for their blessings and support.

  All of them began pushing the boat. The boat slid through the sand, cut across the water and was soon bobbing on the sea.

  Chakki and Karuthamma stood praying, their hands folded like a blossom in bud. When they opened their eyes, the boat was rising above the waves and dipping into the trough and heading towards the western horizon. There were omens to be read.

  Raman Moopan and Ayankunju stood on the shore, casting portents. Raman Moopan asked, ‘What do you think, Ayankunju?’

  Ayankunju answered with a question. ‘Don’t you think the keel favours the west?’

  ‘Yes. The slant is to the south.’

  Chakki went towards them eagerly. She wanted to know their predictions. She asked, ‘What do you think, Ayankunju chetta? Will it be good?’

  With the gravity of the wise man, Ayankunju said, ‘It is good, woman. You will never know hard times again!’

  Chakki once again folded her palms in a gesture of invocation and called out her prayers to the all-powerful mother of the sea.

  The boat was racing to the heart of the ocean. It raced as if it knew victory was in sight.

  Karuthamma said, ‘Our boat has a certain grandeur to it, don’t you think, Ammachi?’

  Her eyes followed the boat as she spoke, ‘And look at the way it moves.’

  Ayankunju said, ‘Do you even have to wonder about it, sister? It may be yours now. But do you know whom it belonged to once? Pallikunnath Kandankoran was its owner. Has there ever been a boat like this on the shores? So full of felicity, but everything that is his is like that. He has a wife; she glistens like molten gold. There isn’t a woman like that amongst the fisherfolk. She is so beautiful. As for the house, that’s the kind of man he is. And now the boat is yours. That’s your good fortune, sister!’

  All the other boats too went out to sea. Soon the only people left on the shore were the mother and daughters. And Pareekutty. As the cold breeze blew, Pareekutty shivered. Far in the high seas, the boats spread. They were casting the nets.

  Pareekutty walked slowly towards Chakki. Karuthamma moved behind her mother. Panchami stood gaping at Pareekutty’s face.

  Pareekutty asked his usual question; only this time it was addressed to the mother. Whether it was in seriousness or in jest, it was the only question he could ask, ‘Would you sell the fish to us?’

  Chakki replied, ‘Who else would we sell it to, child? Who else?’

  Chakki didn’t understand the hidden nuance of that query. How would she? It wasn’t a mere query. There was an entire ocean of feelings trapped within it. Karuthamma who stood behind her mother said, ‘I am cold, Ammachi.’

  It was the day the boat had been put out to sea. So Chakki couldn’t leave without saying the words she knew she ought to. ‘It’s because of you, child, that we could put this boat out to sea. It wouldn’t have happened without you.’

  Pareekutty didn’t respond.

  Karuthamma knew a sense of relief. At least her mother had said as much. Acknowledged their debt.

  Chakki continued, ‘When the big catch season is over, we’ll pay you back.’

  ‘No, don’t. What if I don’t want it back?’

  ‘How can you not want it back? But why?’

  Pareekutty said, ‘I didn’t give it to you to take it back…’

  Chakki couldn’t understand this. Not that Karuthamma understood it either. But she felt suffused by a heat. Chakki felt a suspicion wriggle into her.

  ‘What is it, child?’

  Pareekutty said firmly, ‘No, I don’t want it back.’

  A moment later, Pareekutty continued, ‘Karuthamma asked my help to buy a boat and nets. And I offered you money. Now I don’t want it back.’

  Karuthamma felt darkness swamp her eyes. Her head reeled.

  Chakki spoke brusquely, ‘Why would you offer money to Karuthamma? Who is she to you?’

  Then in a harsh voice she stated, ‘That is not possible. It isn’t right. You have to take the money back.’

  Pareekutty sensed the sternness in Chakki. He didn’t speak.

  In the manner of a mother addressing her child on the good and evils of life, Chakki continued. ‘Child, you are a Muslim. And we are fisherfolk. You were childhood playmates and once you may have played together on these shores. But that was then. We will marry her off to a suitable fisherman. And you must marry a good Muslim girl.’

  After a moment, Chakki went on, ‘You are children. You don’t understand the gravity of the situation. You mustn’t ruin our reputation. If someone were to see us standing here like this, they would start slandering us. That’s how people are!’

  Chakki asked her girls to go with her. She then turned and spoke to Pareekutty with a careful gentleness, ‘Listen to me, my son, you must take that money back.’

  The mother walked away. Karuthamma and Panchami followed. Pareekutty stood there watching them go.

  Everything that Chakki said was right. And it had to be spoken with such firmness. But those words had rent Karuthamma’s heart.

  When they had walked some distance, Karuthamma turned to look back. It wasn’t done consciously; but how could she not look back?

  When they reached home, the song that had pierced her wafted in from the seashore.

  Chakki said to no one in particular. ‘Doesn’t he ever sleep?’

  Chakki turned to Karuthamma, ‘We have to send you away from this place as soon as possible…’

  There was an allegation in her mother’s statement. That she was a great burden to them; the cause of why none of them had any peace. Unable to contain the sorrow and anger in her, Karuthamma protested, ‘What did I do?’

  Chakki didn’t speak.

  In the light of the dawn, Chakki and her children went to the seashore to see the boats return. All the boats were in the high seas. From the look of the sea, it seemed as if they had had a good catch.

  ‘What do you think they got? What fish would it be?’ Karuthamma asked her mother.

  From the signs, it should be mackerel.

  Karuthamma spoke with great enthusiasm, ‘Oh, what an auspicious beginning!’

  ‘The mother of the sea has been good to us, daughter.’

  Like a little child lisping its desire to its mother, Karuthamma said, ‘Ammachi, we must give our catch to the Little Boss!’

  Chakki didn’t show any displeasure. Neither did she demand who the Little Boss was to her. Chakki too wanted it to be so. But Chakki had doubts of her own. ‘I wonder if that greedy father of yours will do it!’

  Karuthamma had a solution. ‘When the boat approaches, we must go and wait there. And you must tell father.’

  Chakki agreed
to that. It was necessary. Something that needed to be done.

  Panchami stood vigil on the shore so that she could call them over when the boat was spotted. That was when another obstacle popped up. The women from the neighbourhood – Nallapennu, Kalikunju, Kunjipennu and Lakshmi – arrived there. They had a favour to ask for. Kunjipennu wanted to know if they were going to sell the fish by lot to the big shacks or to the petty traders. To sell as a lot to the big shacks had become an established practice on that shore. And so the women who went to sell fish in the east had to beg and plead for fish from the big shack owners.

  Kunjipennu said, ‘But we don’t need to tell you this, Chakki chedathi, you already know about it.’

  Chakki could empathize with their need. There was no profit to be made by buying fish from the big shack owners. It wasn’t just that they had to pay the demanded price but they also had to endure their abuse.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ Chakki asked.

  Nallapennu spoke with a certain authority, ‘You must sell the fish from your boat to us fisherwomen.’

  Chakki didn’t know how to answer. They were all neighbours, after all. And what they said couldn’t be disputed. But how could she make promises? She had her own doubts if Chembankunju would agree to any of their schemes. And Pareekutty had asked for the fish. But how could she tell them any of this?

  Kalikunju asked, ‘Chakki chedathi, why don’t you say something? Are you wondering if Chembankunju chettan will agree? Chakki chedathi, you must insist. The boat and nets after all came from some of your earnings too. The money you made by lugging fish around in a basket!’

  Chakki very well knew their observation was grounded in truth.

  Lakshmi said, ‘Would you still continue to come to the east with us to sell fish?’

  ‘Why do you even ask? Even if we have a fishing fleet, Chakki will always be Chakki,’ Chakki said.

  Lakshmi apologized, ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought we could buy the lot and divide it amongst us.’

  Chakki gestured her helplessness. ‘I really don’t know if that man will agree.’

  Nallapennu said, ‘You must insist. Then it will happen!’

  Kalikunju turned to Karuthamma, ‘You must tell your father too!’

  Karuthamma retorted with firmness, ‘No, I won’t!’

  But Panchami agreed to do so. When the boat was in, before the shack owners staked their claim, she would speak to her father. She had her own plan. When the boat was in, she wanted to grab a basket of fish, dry it and start building her own store of dried fish. To make that happen, it was imperative that her father didn’t sell the catch to the shack owners.

  ‘Let me see,’ Chakki said, trying to extricate herself from an awkward situation. But she knew it wouldn’t happen. She could see much trouble ensuing from this.

  As the sun rose in the sky, the shore began to fill with the shack owners, women with baskets and children. In the outer seas, seagulls circled in the air. The men in the boats were either pulling the nets in or shaking out the catch. Each one tried to guess what fish it would be.

  Khadar thought it must be small fry. Whatever it was, there seemed to be plenty of it. Suddenly, two seagulls came flying in from the west towards them. One had a fish in its bill. All of them looked skywards at it. And a single call emerged: ‘Sardine! It’s sardines!’

  It seemed that the boats had begun moving in. The boats turned east. Panchami ran home.

  ‘Ammachi, ammachi, it’s sardine. The catch is sardines!’

  Karuthamma and Chakki ran out eagerly. And again at that point, Chakki called out her thanks to the mother of the sea.

  Mother and daughter rushed to the shore. They wanted to see their boat return laden with its mighty catch. From the high seas, the boats vaulted in on the waves. Mother and daughter argued about which one was theirs.

  Ever since they had discovered that the catch was sardines, there was much hustle and bustle on the shore. Kunjipennu, Nallapennu, Kalikunju, Lakshmi had all gathered around Chakki. Panchami had a basket ready. As they stood there, they saw one boat move ahead with the speed of a bird, bounding from the crest of one wave to next. It seemed laden.

  Panchami spoke without thinking, ‘There seems to be just one man aboard!’

  The arrival of the boat was like a hero’s triumph. Above were seagulls hovering. Behind, the other boats. And there seemed to be a great noise of celebration coming in from the seas.

  And standing at the stern of that triumphant boat was Chembankunju. He wasn’t standing. He was leaping and bounding as he flung the oars in and out, rowing the boat homeward. He wasn’t in the water but floating in the air. And his oar created ripples in the sky with great speed. Such was the power of his rowing that the boat sliced through the waves. There was much grandeur in that arrival.

  Kalikunju said, ‘Look at him! The way he’s coming in – isn’t that something?’

  Everyone agreed that the boat was indeed a handsome one. Chakki pleaded, ‘Don’t tempt fate, people!’

  The boat came in closer. Chembankunju had undergone a transformation. And what a change it was!

  Chakki said, ‘What grace!’

  The grace of a man fostered by the sea.

  And then someone dragged the boat onto the shore. The oarsmen put down their oars, jumped out and pulled the boat higher onto the shore.

  Children gathered around the boat. Panchami was one of them.

  Chembankunju glowered and leapt from the stern onto the shore in one bound. The children shrieked and scattered in all four directions. Panchami stood her ground. Why should she be scared?

  Chembankunju hollered, ‘I don’t want anyone picking any fry from my boat!’ And then he grabbed Panchami and hurled her away.

  The girl fell to the ground screaming, ‘Ammachi!’

  Chakki and Karuthamma called out in anguish. One of the woman said, ‘Heartless creature! What kind of a man is he? An ogre!’

  Just as Chembankunju had, Panchami too had a dream. To pick the small fry, dry and hoard them. One day it would fetch a sizable income. So she had gone to her father’s boat vested with the authority of a daughter. But Chembankunju couldn’t see any of that. He was so drunk by pride and self-importance.

  What lay in the boat was spawned by the sea. No one had sown it. Or reared it. So a portion of it – the fry at least – was for the poor and the destitute; that was the rule of the sea.

  ‘What’s with you? Are you an ogre?’ Chakki screamed and gathered Panchami into her arms. Mother and daughter rubbed Panchami’s chest. She was hurt rather than in pain. It was her feelings that were hurt rather than her body.

  The shack owners pushed and jostled around the boat. Pareekutty was ahead of all the others. Chembankunju didn’t seem to know anyone.

  Khadar Boss asked, ‘So what’s on sale, Chembankunju?’

  Kunjipennu, Lakshmi and the other women ran around the boat in circles. Panchami, who had promised to buy them fish from the boat, lay stunned and breathless on the ground. And Chakki was at her side.

  The shack owners were finalizing the sale. Kunjipennu told the others, ‘Let us ask him anyway.’

  Nallapennu retorted, ‘What can one ask that ogre?’

  The other boats began to draw closer. Chembankunju wanted to close the deal before that.

  Pareekutty asked, ‘Will you sell the fish to me?’

  Chembankunju pretended to not see Pareekutty. Instead, he said aloud, ‘I want to be paid in full. Do you have the cash? I want cash!’

  Khadar Boss thrust a sheaf of hundred-rupee notes into Chembankunju’s palm; the sale was done.

  Pareekutty ran towards the other boats. But the fish had already been sold.

  When Panchami’s cries had subsided, Karuthamma saw Pareekutty walk away with a downcast expression. He didn’t have enough cash.

  Karuthamma told her mother, ‘The Little Boss didn’t get any fish!’

  Chakki walked towards Pareekutty. ‘Didn’t you bid for
the fish, Little Boss?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Pareekutty didn’t speak. He hadn’t been able to buy any fish that day. There hadn’t been such a sardine catch in the near season.

  Chakki understood it all now. She had seen Chembankunju transform into someone else.

  She said, ‘The sight of all that abundance has turned him into an ogre, Little Boss.’

  ‘I had some money with me and I would have paid the rest later.’

  ‘Is that why the sale didn’t happen?’

  ‘Probably.’

  Pareekutty walked away. Karuthamma yearned to talk to him. But how could she?

  His query and her retort to it had come true. Those words boomed in her ears:

  ‘When you have a boat and nets, will you sell us the fish?’

  ‘If you give us a good price, we will.’

  Kalikunju and Nallapennu were grumbling. They had to buy fish from the shack owners. Chembankunju gave the workers the share. The nets were washed and laid out to dry. Then he went home. He had a great deal of money in his hands. Life had a whole new radiance. He was treading a new path.

  Since the early hours, he had been toiling hard. But he wasn’t tired even as he headed home.

  But the house was unhappy. He showed Chakki the fistful of cash. Chakki however showed no interest. ‘For whom is all this money?’

  ‘What a question, woman!’

  ‘Look at Panchami’s chest.’

  Chembankunju picked up the still whimpering Panchami and examined her. There were bruises on her chest. He asked, ‘Why did you come there, child?’

  Chakki explained Panchami’s purpose. Suddenly Chembankunju felt a great swell of love for his daughter. She had wished to make money. He liked that. He promised to give her a basket of fish thereafter.

  Chakki then moved onto Pareekutty. ‘That was unpardonable. Without him, there would have been neither boat nor nets.’