TWO CHILDREN BY Jayakanthan

 

That street was lined with two or three storied houses, where lived the high end professionals such as doctors and lawyers.  This apart each house had sheds just adjacent or nearby which housed bullocks or cows. Some sheds had cars stationed in them.  In this place where movables and immovable reside, it is not entirely surprising that Sivappi and his son Sonayya had also been given refuge.

 

Initially they had been shifted from one portico of a house to another in that locality, but of late because of the permissiveness of the wife of the retired sub-registrar Subbaiyyar, they found a dwelling place in their cow shed.

 

The cow-shed was a perfect enclosure for the two, warding off nature’s fury in the form of lashing rain and biting cold.  Daily, Sivappi would clean that shed.  Would the landlord pay for her labor?  she  sometimes wondered.

 

During the day, with her son tucked to her waist, Sivappi could be seen carrying weighty shreds of wood in the street corner wood vendor’s shop.  Sometimes, she would get her son alighted when there is heavy load of wood in her person.  She would get Murukku for four annas and give them to Sonayya and get him seated under the tree and run away to get on with her work. In her anxiety to be sure of the safety of her son, she would often break her work to keep a watch on him. 

 

Sonayya too would keep sitting silently and watching the goings on in the vicinity and patiently wait for his mother to come towards him in between her work.  He would not crush the Murukku and a smile would creep and expand on his face only after Sivappi visits him.  Sivappi too would lift Sonayya in her arms and plant a kiss on his cheek.

How a mother’s heart would pant not bearing the few minutes of separation could be gauged from her restlessness.  The little kid would insert the murukku into her mouth.  She would half bite and leave the rest back in his mouth and say, “You eat my Raasa”.  Sonayya would begin to eat the murukku  after   getting it from his mother.

 

When she is free from work at the wood vendor shop, Sivappi would chafe the grain at the grain merchant shop.  In the evening under the tree at the corner of the big street, she would light the fire within the space assembled with three or four bricks and cook food. Both she and her son would eat and afterwards, she would lie down on the half-covered cow shed and go to sleep. 

 

Sivappi was the woman who used to do work at all the houses in that street.  She used to charge for her labour from other homes, but wouldn’t take money offered by Subbaiyyar’s wife.  She would get the left over rice and vegetable curry doled out by Subbaiyyar’s wife almost daily.  The only thing she would ask is a pot of grovel (Kanji) extracted from rice boiled mid-day.

 

The Kanji bore a tantalizing taste, the rice used in his home coming from his village.  The Kanji extracted from the boiled rice had a sweet taste after each gulp.  Sivappi would invariably stand at the door step of Iyer’s house around ten or eleven with the tin pot held at   hand.

 

Iyer would lie on the resting chair near the portico slowly throwing air with hand held fan.  When the pot of Sivappi emits little noise, Iyer would look up and cry out at his wife, “Hi, your progeny has come!  Come and attend!”.

 

Iyer used to completely dislike Sivappi, the reason being the fondness of his wife towards her. His aversion is exhibited time and again in innumerable ways.  Looking at Sonaiyya, he would often taunt, “Hi, boy.  Haven’t you aged 4 years now?  Why is that you are always tied to your mother’s waist.  Why don’t you go and do the work of your mother at the wood vendor shop.  If you do not come walking tomorrow, I’ll give a nice slap”.  Sivappi, hearing the mild humor from the mouth of Iyer would feel elated and would plant a kiss on the cheek of Sonayya. 

 

In the meanwhile, Iyer’s wife brought grovel mixing salt with it. While she was bringing it, Sivippi was standing alongside the corner of the portico with her sari rolled into the hand with the tin pot.  As his wife was pouring the grovel into the tin pot held by Sivippi, Iyer was intently watching the show.  Even if a morsel of boiled rice spilled on the floor, Iyer would throw tantrums and start recalling how his father in law was on the lookout for a pot of grovel and kindle stories of generational penury of her family.”What was the lump which had fallen into the pot?” Iyer asked raising his brow angrily.  Listening to this query, Iyer’s wife furiously ask Sivippi, “Get close to Iyer and display the pot in front of him so that he could dip his hand and feel for himself that I had not thrown his hard earned wealth to the winds.”  Remarking thus, she went inside her house poking fun at Iyer.

 

“Nothing Sami..  The thud you heard was the fall of the hard layer of Kanji and nothing else!” Sivippi lifted the hard layer with her fingers and threw it down on the floor.

 

“What mischief you are playing. Why did you throw it down.  The layer of Kanji contains vitamin B, don’t you know?

 

“Sami, I do not need to know all this!” Sivappi slipped from the scene along with the filled-in pot.

 

Looking at her departure, Iyer murmured to himself.  ”Hmm.  Even with consumption of little grovel, look how healthy she is!  Wonder what vigor this Kanji has got?”

 

Afterwards, Iyer in a higher tone remarked, “From now on, don’t pour the water from the boiled rice, boil it down totally because the boiled rice would retain the strength of rice.

 

Having heard his advice, Iyer’s wife in a tiresome tone, said, “Whatever strength we have got is enough.”

 

Whatever and how many times his wife may dismiss his advice, it appeared to Iyer that Sivippi had gathered all her strength through the strength of their donated grovel.

 

Sivippi had moved out of draught prone Ramanathapuram district and moved to Madurai for economic reasons.  She did have a well built physique which was the envy of all around her.  If only she lived in a rich and fertile area she would have gained strength to ward off a tiger by a slight of chaffing pan.  But now she rids chaff of grains with the help of a pan and carries wood to earn wages for living.

 

Sonayya, son of Karuppaiyya Thevar reminds Sivippi of her husband in his smile and laughter and who brings some solace to her life.  Karuppaiyya Thevar deposited her and her son here at Madurai and went in search of employment to the city before and has neither been seen nor heard since.

 

That day happened to be Iyer’s birth day and there was a celebratory atmosphere prevailing in the house where guests and relatives have assembled.  Since the guests were being served lunch in batches, it was taking lot of time for Sivippi in getting her customary pot of grovel at Iyer’s house.  Since Sonaiyya’s time for getting his food was crossing its limit, Sivippi tried to divert his attention and failing in her attempt, at last settled down under the shade at the corner of cow shed.

 

“Where is your Ayya?” Sivippi  tried to cajole Sonayya in her continuing attempts to divert his attention from hunger.  He answered, “He has gone there…..”

 

When will he come back?

 

Sonayya claimed down from her lap, walked to the middle of the road and started looking down and returned.

 

“Aatha, Ayya Umm.” Uttering these he opened both his palms with disappointment writ large on his face.

 

“Ayya would be back tomorrow.  He will bring mithai, murukku and new dress for you.  Then we would all go home and stay there.”  Her voice started wavering and tears started to roll down her cheek.  She wiped her tears on the face of Sonayya while kissing him.

 

Exactly at that time, there was a thudding sound of a bundle of eaten banana leaves falling in front of Iyer’s house.

 

“Aatha, Kanji, Kanji.  Sonayya started hurrying for food.  Sivippi lifted her son on her waist and gathering the tin pot, stood in front of Iyer’s house.

 

Subba Iyer had just finished his meal and was resting on the easy chair and gasping. 

 

“What is the matter, Sivippi?”

 

“Anything special Sami?” she asked as a matter of routine courtesy.

 

“Nothing special, but my daughter has come visiting me from the village.  That is the reason…..

 

Suddenly realizing that he may have to dole out a reward to Sivippi on this occasion, Iyer tried to conceal the specialty of the occasion.  At that moment, Iyer’s wife called from inside, “Is it Sivippi?

 

“Yes.”  answered  Sivippi.

 

“Could you come through the slip way.  I was thinking of calling you.  Lift a few buckets of water and fill up the tank for the guests to wash their hands.  Come fast.”

 

Just as she heard the voice of Iyer’s wife, Sivippi alighted Sonayya from her waist and was about to go inside.

 

“Look, how the little rascal is clinging to your waist and making life miserable for you.  Just drop him and go in” Iyer admonished both Sivippi and her son with unconcealed exasperation and urged her to get on with the job.

 

Sivippi allowed the child to slip down and quietly sat him under the tree shade and said to him, “Aatha would return soon after filling the tank.  Remain here sitting without throwing tantrums.”

 

Sonayya sat down in the shade cross legged.  Even while performing her job, Sivippi continuously kept smiling at her son.  He too remained in his position and kept smiling at her.

 

Iyer was a little upset at noticing the child remaining quite without any heckles.  Suddenly, his grandson came running out of the house with a high pitched screaming voice.  Iyers grandson was also of four years of age.  He had inserted his fingers inside his mouth and moved gasping for breath.

 

“Why are you crying? Come and sit on my lap.”  Iyer summoned his grandson.

 

“No I will not. Amma, Aaa, Aaa….”   He was blaring pointing an accusing finger at his mother.

 

“Amma has just sat down for lunch.  She would come just now and lift you up soon. Remain quiet and smart”

 

“Look at this boy.  His amma has also gone somewhere.  Is her crying like you?” Iyer pointed out at Sonayya.  Sonayya has dusted off his hands and started laughing at the boy. But the boy had started to hit one of legs with another and cried uncontrollably.

 

Iyer was furious at his grandson for he has become an object of fun to Sonayya.  At that moment, he thought of another way around to control the situation.

 

“Why do you laugh rascal?” Questioning Sonayya, he tried to pacify his grandson saying, “Don’’t cry.  That boy is not smart.  We will beat him now, right.”

 

But the boy didn’t seem to pay any heed to Iyer’s words and his voluminous cry kept on ascending.

 

“Are there more troublesome kids anywhere in this world?” Pointing out and cursing her child, Iyer’s daughter threw her leaf plate with the uneaten food at the corner of the road. “Ruffian, don’t take my life crying to death!” she lifted her kid.

 

“What have you done? You do not seem to have eaten anything at all and thrown everything alongwith the leaf.  Even Jangri is left in the leaf.  Is it correct to waste all this stuff?”  Iyer questioned his daughter in great consternation.

 

“This ruffian did not give me a moment to eat” answered his daughter.

 

“But don’t let him cry any further.  Give him Jangri” reasoned Iyer and started looking at Sonayya.

 

“Hey, Kid.  Would you eat Jangri?” asked  Iyer at Sonayya, fluttering his eyes.

 

Sonayya, for a moment couldn’t understand what Iyer was hinting at.

 

“Sweet Jangri, Sweet Jangri” repeated Iyer.

 

Hearing the word Sweet twice, Sonayya understood what Iyer was hinting at, rose and moved towards the spluttered leaves at the corner.

 

“It is sweet meat.  Take and eat. It will be very sweet” Iyer rolled his tongue and pointed out at the leaves attracting the child towards them.

 

Sonayya with his tender fingers lifted a Jangri from the leaf and inserted it to his mouth and started injecting the saliva in.

 

“Hey. Throw it down” the voice of Sivappi could be heard in panic when she came running and slapped at the hand of Sonayya.  She inserted her fingers into the mouth of Sonayya and Smeared the Jangri out, repeatedly admonishing him. 

 

She slapped Sonayya on his back saying, “I earn Kanji after back-breaking work and you go scavenging for food.

 

“But don’t hit the child, Svaippi” Iyer pleaded innocently.

 

“We are definitely poor, but if I do not discipline him now, he would turn out to be a rougue tomorrow” reasoning thus, she lifted Sonayya and rubbed his face of tears. 

 

“Don’t touch food thrown on the street hence, right.” She tried to calm the crying boy.

 

The boy started quivering in the midst of his cries and said, “Sami, it was Sami who asked me to eat it.”  On hearing this, Sivappi’s eyes reddened, looked at Iyer and asked angrily, “Why Sami, would you ask the child in your family to do the same. If you consider your saliva sweeter, then keep it to yourself.  Why do you try to inject that to my child?”

 

“What is happening here?” Iyer’s wife came out after hearing the loud noise at the gate.

 

“Look, Amma.  Iyer had tried to teach my son to eat thrown away food” erasing the tears from her eyes.

 

“What do you want me to do?  You could slap your child because he is a toddler.” Hinting at the childish conduct of her husband.

 

“Sivappi, did you see me prodding your son to lift food from the street” Iyer questioned Sivappi,  non pulsed and without yielding ground.

 

“Sami, My son was born to a warrior.  He would not utter a lie.  Sivappi exploded at Iyer, who was shaken by her anger.

 

“For argument sake, assume that I did ask your son to lift food from the leaf.  You take Kanji daily from our house.  This too is scavenged food.  Is it not?”

 

“If that is so, then drink the Kanji yourself.  We don’t require that from now on.” Exploded Svippi and banged the tin pot sideways and briskly walked away.

 

“It’s all written in my fate.” Slamming her head, Iyer’s wife moved inside the house, looking at the tank filled fully of water and rice and curry gathered at a vessel nearby.

 

“See.  It is all because of the vigor contained in the Kanji  we have given that makes her talk this way.  From tomorrow onwards, don’t drain the water from rice down.  As I told before, allow the nutrients to stay with rice.  Iyer’s routine lecture went on vigorously and sounded from the portico in a stricter tone.

 

The next day, Sivappi did not turn up at the gate of Iyer; nor did she know whether his wife had boiled the rice or drained the water out of the pot.