Chemmeen

by T. S. Translated by Nair, Anita Pillai

  In the ensuing days, there was a fight at the beach between the boatsmen of the shore. Two or three were hurt on their heads. That day and the next, none of the boats from that shore went out to sea. Everyone was in hiding. The policemen arrived on the shore and took away a few men. The Shore Master intervened and got them released.

  One by one, they went to meet him with an offering of thanks. Then there was a collection taken. And thus the police case was hushed up. All this kerfuffle meant that all the money made from the big catch was spent.

  Velayudhan alone didn’t go to meet the Shore Master. He knew that the Shore Master had singled him out. The man had him arrested by the police. Velayudhan was in jail for a week. When he got out, he said, ‘I don’t care. I am not going to kowtow to him.’

  Chembankunju lost a week’s takings. In that season of plenty, it was a huge loss.

  They began working the sea again. Everyday Chakki would ask Chembankunju to invite Palani home. One day all the workers of the boat took a day off and went to Trikunnapuzha. But Palani didn’t go. Chembankunju asked Palani, ‘Why didn’t you go, my son?’

  ‘Where do I go to?’

  That was the fact. Whom did he have at Trikunnapuzha to visit? Chembankunju invited Palani, ‘Then, why don’t you come to my house to eat some lunch?’

  Palani accepted the invitation. In Chembankunju’s house, they put together a feast of many, many dishes.

  Palani wasn’t the child of a family. He was the child of the Trikunnapuzha shore itself. He had no memory of either his father or mother. If you were to ask him how he had managed to survive, he would say he did precisely that – survive! Who brought him up? No one did. No one ever made any effort for him. He worked for just himself. When he was a little boy, he was flung out to sea to hold the string of the nets. A sea in which stingray and porpoises gambolled. No creature ever had an anxious moment about him. When he was old enough, he began working the boats and so began earning money. When he had money, he spent it. And when he didn’t, he managed. Did he have dreams? Perhaps. No one ever desired that he eat, that his belly be full. And neither had he ever spared such a thought for anyone.

  This afternoon for the first time someone had cooked a meal for him. And a woman stood at his side to ensure that he was served, that he ate well. It was an overwhelming moment.

  Chakki found out his favourite among the curries. She served it onto his plate again and again.

  Did Palani ever wonder what all this was in aid of?

  Chakki asked, ‘How old are you, son?’

  ‘Ahh…’ A shrug.

  He didn’t know.

  Chakki’s enthusiasm quelled. How could he not know how old he was. All questions hereafter would have to be carefully worded. What was his caste? Whatever it be, they had to know.

  ‘Where do you live, son?’

  ‘I have a little hovel.’

  ‘What do you with all the money you make?’

  ‘What do I do? I spend it.’

  Taking it upon herself to play his mother, Chakki advised him. ‘Son, you have no one. How can you spend all you earn? If you fall ill tomorrow, what will you do?’

  Palani mumbled an ‘Oh!’ as if he had thought about it and arrived at a conclusion.

  How easily he dismissed it! That he had survived and stayed alive this long was a miracle. So how did it matter if he was laid up in old age?

  Chakki retreated into a silence. She had nothing left to ask. He was an able man. Not a bad sort. He drifted along with no one to share his joys or sorrows. No one had ever considered the passage of his life before. A little later Chakki asked once again in a motherly manner, ‘Is it enough to live like this?’

  ‘Why not?’

  That meant he had no goals in life. Was that proper? And yet, what else could one think. His snappy retort, neither faltering nor stumbling, prompted one to assume so. He had never set a goal for himself in life. No one had ever wanted that of him.

  Chakki said, ‘Well, that isn’t enough then!’

  Palani didn’t speak.

  Chakki continued, ‘Son, you are alone. And you are a hard worker. But all this will change. You won’t be so fit one day. And a man has to have some possessions in his life. You need someone to take care of you. You need that too. Son, think about it, someone to cook for you, and if you have the place, a home – won’t that be something?’

  Palani continued to be silent.

  ‘Son you must marry.’

  ‘Well!’

  ‘Shall I go ahead and decide it for you?’

  Palani consented with yet another ‘well’.

  Chakki continued to ask, ‘Don’t you want to know who the girl will be?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘My daughter.’

  Palani agreed to that as well. Even though the proposal had progressed that far, Chakki saw many shortcomings in it. And only a few virtues. Palani had neither family nor roots. When you gave your daughter to a man like that, what do you do if he turned out to be a rascal? Whom do you ask to intervene?

  Chembankunju said, ‘But he is a good man.’

  ‘If someone asked you, where have you got your daughter married off, what do you say?’

  ‘He’ll build a house.’

  But above all else, something else disturbed Chakki.

  ‘What is his caste?’

  ‘He is human. And a worker of the sea.’

  ‘Our relatives will be upset.’

  ‘Let them be!’

  ‘Then we’ll be all alone.’

  ‘So?’

  Chembankunju continued with steely resolve. ‘I’ll give her to him.’

  Eight

  It continued to pour. The rains wouldn’t pause. There was plenty of shrimp in the sea. But no boats could set out. For, after all, it is a man who must work the boat. And it was bone-chillingly damp. Then one morning the sun rose in a clear sky. The boats were launched. There was a good catch. The boats came back to shore and brisk trade happened.

  But once again the skies darkened and the rains began. There had never been such a heavy downpour. It continued the whole day.

  In the sheds, the fully dried shrimp lay. There were also semi-dried ones. And steamed shrimp. And rotting heaps of fresh shrimp. All the sheds were in a mess. And showed every sign of a huge impending loss.

  In the first part of the season, there had been adequate sunshine. And each day’s catch was well used. The big traders continued to hover. But this ill fortune had descended upon them.

  Pareekutty had yet another trouble to deal with. The first consignment he sold had been good! The next consignment had not been dry enough. That’s what the setu had claimed.

  The setu said, ‘We don’t want your business. Just give me back my money and take your goods away!’

  The setu wouldn’t agree no matter what he said. Pareekutty went to each and every shop in Alapuzha. But no one wanted his shrimp. The godowns were full, they said.

  Pareekutty fell at Pachupillai’s feet and begged for clemency. He needed a huge loan from the setu. And he would offer Pachupillai a commission from it. Pachupillai promised to do his best. With that Pareekutty hoped to salvage his losses and use the money to buy more fish. But then the wind and rain began.

  Pareekutty’s investment began to rot and stink. In a day’s time, all that was left to do was to bury it in the sand.

  The seashore was sunk in gloom. The boats were going out to sea. And they were bringing back big catches. They were able to sell shrimp to the homes nearby. And there were lorries that came in once in a while. But that was all. They were not able to quote their prices any more. They had to sell at whatever price they were being offered by the traders.

  There was no business in the restaurants. Not a soul entered the textile shops. The peanut sellers couldn’t even find children to sell their peanuts to.

  When would all of this change? Even eking out a daily livelihood was difficult.

  All the boat owners on that shore were deva
stated. Especially Ramankunju. His business that year hadn’t taken off. Ousep began demanding his money. He had begun eyeing Ramankunju’s Chinese fishing nets.

  One day they had a bitter disagreement on the shore. Chembankunju fluttered in his thoughts as Ramankunju swore to return Ousep’s money in a week’s time, no matter what.

  Ramankunju asked Chembankunju for the money. But this time Chembankunju wasn’t ready to hand over the money. Ramankunju sensed the unwillingness.

  ‘What is it, Chembankunju? Tell me, what’s on your mind?’

  Pretending to be embarrassed, Chembankunju said, ‘How can I without any surety?’

  ‘What do you want as surety?’

  ‘That … what do I say?’

  In the end Chembankunju told him what was on his mind. He wanted the loan of Ramankunju’s Chinese nets as surety.

  And so Chembankunju managed to acquire the Chinese fishing nets.

  That day too there was a little feud in Achakunju’s house. Chembankunju had not one but two boats now. Nallapennu prodded Achakunju, ‘What’s the point in calling yourself a man?’

  ‘Listen, you need to pitch in too. Where is the money that we were to have given Ousepachan?’

  ‘Do you expect me to walk around naked? Or, is it possible to drink water without vessels?’

  ‘Now if it had been with me…’

  ‘You would have spent it on drink!’

  Achakunju reached out and gave her two tight slaps.

  Chakki was excited about having one more boat. But she was also distressed at not having settled Pareekutty’s dues. And Karuthamma wouldn’t stop reminding her about it.

  On the day the Chinese nets and boat was brought in as surety, Chakki told Chembankunju, ‘This is disgraceful.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You made him bring his stock across to us at midnight and now you are pretending it didn’t happen.’

  Chembankunju snapped at her to keep quiet.

  ‘There’s no point in snapping at me. That boy is in deep trouble. If you don’t help him now, there’s no point…’

  ‘Where is the money?’

  Karuthamma, who was overhearing this exchange, spoke up, ‘You have to give that money back, Accha!’

  Chembankunju frowned. ‘How does it concern you?’

  She was not afraid to answer him back. And she had plenty to say. She decided to tell him that she had been the one who had asked him for the money first. And which was why, even though they had no money to pay for it, he had given them all of his stock. There was a hidden warning there. The richer they got, the more she was indebted to that Muslim man.

  Chakki paled at the thought of Karuthamma speaking out. That would be disastrous.

  Chakki took on Chembankunju. ‘What’s there so much to rave and rant about? She’s only speaking the truth!’

  ‘How does it concern her is what I would like to know. Did she take it from him? Is he demanding his money from her?’

  In some consternation, Chakki replied, ‘Just because he didn’t ask her, can’t she tell us what’s bothering her?’

  Chembankunju spoke in a grave censorious manner, ‘Let me make this clear. This is men’s business. You have nothing to do with that. You are to be married off.’

  That bit of advice was right. It was a lesson Karuthamma had to remember.

  Chembankunju now directed his ire towards Chakki, ‘It’s all your fault. She’s picked up all this from you.’

  Chakki was silent.

  Later when the mother and daughter were alone, the mother asked the daughter, ‘How could you forget yourself? You were going to tell your father everything, weren’t you? Didn’t you hear the tittle-tattle in the neighbourhood? If any of that reaches your father’s ear – oh mother of the sea!’

  She understood. However, she still couldn’t help herself. ‘We have to give that money back.’

  ‘That’s what I want to do too.’

  ‘Ammachi, you keep saying this. But you haven’t still paid back the money. I told you all the things we could do. But you didn’t do any of it.’

  A moment later, she continued, ‘Everything can wait till that loan has been paid back…’ She paused mid-sentence.

  Chakki understood where it was leading to.

  ‘You are right. It’s the correct thing to do.’

  Chakki had tried to fathom Karuthamma’s feelings about marrying Palani. But she refused to reveal her true feelings, saying neither yes nor no. Perhaps it was because she was shy, Chakki told herself. After all she was a young girl. But she was also worried about Karuthamma’s relationship with Pareekutty.

  If she were to ask Karuthamma’s friends to probe her mind, soon the entire shore would sing with gossip. And it was at that point that Karuthamma declared, ‘Only after you pay off that debt…’

  Whew! That was a relief! Chakki’s face lit up with a radiant smile. She asked, ‘So my daughter, you are agreeable to this marriage, aren’t you?’

  Karuthamma didn’t respond. Chakki continued with the same elation, ‘He is a good boy, my daughter, a very good boy!’

  Chakki continued to praise Palani. There were enough reasons to sing his praises. And as she heard him being praised, Karuthamma sensed a certain resentment wiggle its way into her. She felt a slow rage gather in her. Besides, there were enough reasons to contradict all of what Chakki said. How old was Palani? Didn’t she have a right to know? Who were his family? And most importantly, had Palani found a place in her heart?

  Chakki felt a huge relief. She continued to talk about him. Karuthamma felt breathless. She felt she would explode if she didn’t speak. She burst out, ‘Oh, keep quiet, Ammachi!’

  And then she mumbled through clenched teeth. Chakki couldn’t make out what she said. But Chakki went on, ‘I’ll sort the debt out before you are married.’

  With a great deal of anger and bitterness, Karuthamma said, ‘Of course, you will. So why didn’t you do it all these days?’

  ‘I’ll keep a tight control!’

  With utter hopelessness, Karuthamma said, ‘You know it won’t happen! The wedding will take place and that will be the end of it.’

  Chakki said firmly, ‘Wait and watch!’

  All her chaotic thoughts tussled and turned into a firm resolve in Karuthamma. ‘Unless you pay that money back, I won’t agree. Or, I will kill myself … that’s for sure!’

  Chakki grew anxious. ‘Don’t talk rubbish, my child!’

  Karuthamma burst into tears. ‘What else can I do? He is ruined. If we didn’t have the money, I would understand that … but it is just that no one wants to pay up.’

  And then she started a litany of accusations about Chakki who listened quietly. ‘You don’t want to pay him either,’ Karuthamma concluded.

  Chakki denied it vehemently. Karuthamma made another decision. ‘I am going to speak up.’

  ‘Oh my dear child, please don’t!’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  After a little while, she continued, ‘After this grand wedding, on our way to my new home what if he accosts me and tells me, “Pay up the money you owe me and then leave”, what will we do?’

  Chakki hadn’t considered that until then. A horrifying picture rose before her eyes. Chakki asked her anxiously, ‘Why would he ask you for the money?’

  ‘He gave the money because I asked for it.’

  ‘But that was merely a joke!’

  ‘Says who?’

  The vision of him accosting Karuthamma refused to leave Chakki’s eyes.

  Pareekutty was dejected. And he was facing total ruin. In that precarious state of mind, he would do anything.

  Karuthamma continued, ‘I have decided to tell Achan everything. I will do it today. Why can’t I?’

  ‘My daughter, you mustn’t!’

  ‘I will.’

  In the end, Chakki promised to pay the debt off one way or the other before the wedding.

  That day the wife had a fresh piece of news for her husband: thei
r daughter had no objections to that marriage. However, there was the weight of an unspoken ‘but’ that lingered in the air. Could that ‘but’ be voiced though?

  Chembankunju didn’t particularly care whether Karuthamma was agreeable to the wedding or not.

  Chakki could think of no means to get her husband to agree to pay Pareekutty’s debt off.

  The price of fish had fallen. It wasn’t just Chembankunju, but no one on the shore knew any peace. A few days later, things picked up again. All the dried shrimp at Kochi and Alapuzha had been loaded onto ships. But there was a fall in price at Rangoon. Everything was selling at half price, the traders claimed. And a ship was lost at sea. So all settlements were made at half price.

  Pareekutty lost a thousand rupees.

  Karuthamma felt a great change enter her. She was perhaps changing to adapt to changing circumstances. She had grown up. She had acquired a certain courage, a will of her own. She sought a chance to talk to Pareekutty. She had so much to tell him.

  They met. She stood on one side of the fence and he on the other. That day she was the one who began the conversation. A conversation that neither had a structure nor was peppered with giggles.

  She asked, ‘Bossman, your business is at a loss, isn’t it?’

  That wasn’t the opening Pareekutty had expected the conversation to start with. He didn’t speak.

  She continued, ‘We will return your money, my Bossman.’

  Pareekutty replied, ‘But Karuthamma, you didn’t take any money from me.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I should be the one to pay it back.’

  ‘How can that be?’

  ‘But that’s how it should be, my Bossman. For only after your loan has been paid off…’

  Karuthamma couldn’t finish the sentence. A lump clogged her throat. She felt faint. Her eyes brimmed.

  Pareekutty completed the sentence for her. ‘You want to pay the loan off and get married, isn’t that it?’

  Pareekutty would not allow himself tears. But he asked, ‘So you want to sever our ties, I suppose?’

  A question that pierced her like a sharp weapon. How could he be so heartless to ask that? Pareekutty knew she was helpless. And yet he expected an answer of her.