Kachi Amma's other sister, EmooriValia Valiamma, was far more beautiful than Kachi Amma and her other late sister.However, her husband, Grandfather's younger brother, evinced no pride in her nordid her beauty lessen his own sense of inferiority.
The birth of KuttimmaluValiamma, Emoori Valia Valiamma'seldest daughter, was quite an ordinary event. Four more daughters followed, thentwo sons and a still-born boy. Radhakrishnan, the older son, became agovernment employee, a head clerk in the sub-judge’s office, which was, ofcourse, a British office. It was considered prestigious to conduct the affairsof the government in English. Karunakaran, the second son,read Law. After he passed hisB.L. examinations he built up a lucrative practice. Grandfather wanted his sonAppu and his futureson-in-law, Govindan, to become lawyers as well. Both did becomelawyers in Grandfather’s lifetime, but his son-in-law, my father,rejected the Bar during the non-cooperation movement and joined thenationalists.
Emoori Valia Valiamma bequeathed allher beauty to her daughter, Kuttimmalu. Kuttimmalu Valiamma grew into a woman ofgoddess-like beauty. Her good looks were constantly praised. As a baby,she was not even allowed to crawl on the ground for fear her elbows would growrough and dark and the skin on them coarsen. She was picked up and carriedeverywhere until she could walk. Even before she was one, she was taken to thehospital and vaccinated against smallpox. A little black dot was always placedon her cheek so that no evileye would harm her. She was keptaway from school for the samereason. Her only education was to learn tosign her name. Her mother wouldask pilgrims going to Kodungalloor for the Bharanifestival to make special offerings in the temple to guard against her childfalling ill with smallpox asthe deity there was known to protect against this once killer disease.
"How pretty she is, just like aRaja Ravi Varma painting!" people would say. "She's as fair as the sahibs"
"Wait and see," predictedRadhakrishna Ammaman." A swan will come and take her away."
Descriptions of Kuttimmalu’sextraordinary beauty spread to the neighbouring villages. "She's like acreature in a story book." "Or in a painting." "Unbelievable!""Dazzling!" Her limbs seemed to vie with one another for perfection. Astudent with poetic pretensions quoted Kumaranasan in her praise. There was speculationon whichof her cousins who had the right to marry her would make her his wife. Thecousins themselves took their measure of one another. Who was going to be thelucky one?
Everyone took comfort in theconviction that all would take place as fate willed and waited expectantly.
The thampuran of the royal kovilakamfirst heard of Kuttimmalu's ravishing good looks from my mother's father.Subsequently many legends came hisway about her charms. One of the thampuran’s sons, Rajagopala Menon, was afriend of Grandfather’s and he too spoke to the thampuran about Kuttimmalu’sbeauty.
Thampuran longed to see theloveliness he had heard so much about. As the days passed, he not only wanted tosee Kuttimmalu’s beauty, he wished to experience it himself. He chose toforget, at least for the moment, that he was over sixty years old. He knew, ofcourse, that the royal command would be obeyed. That was all that mattered.
The summons from the kovilakam cameunexpectedly. One day, around noon, a group of young men and a karyasthanarrived at Emoori Valia Valiamma’s house with a palanquin. "We have beenasked to take Kuttimmalu Thamburatti to the kovilakam," they said. ObviouslyThampuran had acted on the principle that he had apre-emptive right over hissubjects.
The question was, should thisunexpected stroke of good fortune be accepted or rejected? The members of thehousehold looked at one another hesitantly, wondering what to do.
Meanwhile the villagers, who hadmarked the arrival of the palanquin, crowded into the gatehouse, eager to knowwhat was happening and whispered excitedly among themselves. The palanquinbearers standing at the gate did not say a word.
Karunakara Ammaman came back fromthe court. He was caught in adilemma. He knew the kovilakams were growing weaker. As for the thampuran, hewas well over sixty. The girl herself was young and ignorant but KarunakaraAmmaman was not given the time to consider whether he wanted to cooperate in thematter or nor. His elder brother, Radhakrishna Ammaman, voiced his opinionfirmly.
"There’s nothing to think about.Let’s not waste time. How can we send back an empty palanquin? We have toaccept this as her destiny, that’s all. We can’t possibly give people anopportunity to say that we drove the Goddess Lakshmi away as soon as she setfoot in the house."
The younger brother had no right toargue or to justify his viewpoint, if he had one. It was the elder brother'sdecision that counted. As well as the command from the kovilakam, of course. Thefamily had neither the power nor the medals to send away the envoys from thekovilakam empty-handed. The younger brother realised there werelimitations to the law he had studied. He also knew that there would always bepeople to convince him that laws were meant to be transgressed.
The villagers sighed. Some wereshunned by the news while others listened entranced to the rhythmic chant of thepalanquin bearers, "Hailasom, hailasom..."
No one asked Kuttimmalu what shethought. No one thought that necessary. A woman born into the matrilinear Nairsociety is described as a free agent. But she is really only free to control thehusband she marries and to abandon him when she wishes to do so. She is deniedthe right to a swayamvaram, to actually choose a husband. If men of a castehigher than hers want toestablish a sambandam relationship with her or to marry her, she has no choice.No one came forward to oppose Kuttimmalu’s being taken away. And Kuttimmaluherself lacked the courage or conviction to ask why she was being sent away.
And what of her young cousins whohad a right to marry her? Kuttimmalu wondered where they had all disappeared. It was as if thesesturdy young men had become as immobile as the great wooden pillars of thetaravad house. The little doll-like girl, barely sixteen, thought toherself that not a single Nair youth seemed to have the courage to claim her atthis juncture when it had been decided to give her away like a sacrificialanimal.
The women of the household gatheredin a circle and discussed the matter endlessly. They spoke of Kuttimmalu’sgood fortune and her beauty though some were a little uncertain about the oldthampuran. Some even joked slyly about him.
"If they start now,they’ll reach there bynightfall"
"No, no, they won’t get thereuntil noon tomorrow"
"She’s so ignorant"
"I wonder whether she knows how todeal with a man"
"Surely someone will explain toher"
"You don't have to go to collegeto learn these things. Tell her yourself if you want to. You’re veryknowledgeable, you made twelve babies after all."
"Shut up. You didn’t do so badlyyourself."
"I heard that Thampuran is pastthe age ..."
"When he sees her he's sure to .."
"Still waters run deep,remember."
"I hope she has healthy childrenand the line goes on. That’s all that really matters. Narayana! Guruvayoorappa!Poothiri Muthi!" Kunjhimadhavi Amma, seated in the verandah listening to theothers talk, sighed deeply.
None of them had the slightest ideaof the world Kuttimmalu was going into, of what a palace or itslifestyle and routine were like.Not one among them had seen the interior of a kovilakam or knew anything of itscustoms. Knowledge of that kind was not destined for Nairs like them.
"Wehave to start in time for the evening train at five, said the karyasthan. "Wehave been told to takeher back today. They will keepvigil at the palace." He spat intothe courtyard. "Today’s staris auspicious, we must leavebefore dark. We made sure of all that before we came." He laughed. "We’llleave at three."
The villagers could notstop discussing her.
"This is what a good sambandamrelationship means."
"None of thiscan dream of such goodfortune."
"This is what a Gandharva marriageis."
"I wonder whether she’ll evercome back."
"The whole region around thekovilakam will be hers now, won’tit?"
'That’s what destiny is allabout."
Achuthan Ezhuthachan predicted evenat her birththat she was destined to rajayogam, the life of a princess."
Women born under the Makam star arealways fortunate."
"They say Thampuran hasother..."
"Keep quiet. So what? That's akind of luck too."
"It’s the first one who’s theQueen Consort."
"Anyway, she has enough to commendher for the position."
The sun was about to set as thepalanquin bearing Kuttimmalu crossed the canal and the river and moved towardsthe railway station. The palanquin was eventually set down in the outercourtyard of the kovilakam. The karyasthan followed her as she went in, keepingfive steps behind her, until they reached the pathayappura. Valia Thampuran wasupstairs.
The palainquin bearers disappearedinto the outhouse behind the kovilakam. Karunakara Ammaman, who had itaccompanied Kuttimmalu, knew it was time for him to leave. He had not beenallowed beyond the gatehouse. Although the kovilakam had not been visible fromthere, he had tried to peer in. The inner rooms were enveloped in a darknessthrough which he thought he saw shadows move. The images of these shadowy humanforms, which he could not really share with anyone, were all hecould take back. He could, ofcourse, describe the huge jackfruit trees he had seen and the mango trees, heavywith fruit. And he could add: "Thirty six women servants came to lead her fromthe gatehouse to the inner apartments." After all, Karunakara Ammaman wouldhave liked to invest the episode with a certain grandeur.
Thampuran was seated onthe first floor verandah withhis arms and legs fully extended along the arms of his carved rosewood easychair. These days, he rested a great deal. Indeed it could be said that herested all the time. Whether he ate well or not, he felt tired.
Two or three karyasthans stood inthe courtyard, their manner obsequious, their mundus tucked respectfully undertheir crossed arms. Their sole duty was to answer the question. Thampuran askedthem and to carry out his commands. They moved like machines.
Karunakara. Ammaman tried to peerinto the inner apartments once more. He could not make out a single form thatmight have been a woman’s. He was aware that the women of the kovilakam werenot permitted to go out. Nor did they have the right to do asthey pleased inside the house.An uneasiness about the surroundingsin which he was leaving hisyounger sister nagged Karunakara Ammaman on the way home. He was haunted by asecret fear that he had abandoned her.
When he arrived home, he hung up hisumbrella and asked for some water to drink. Everyone looked gloomy as if acertain radiance had dimmed when Kuttimmalu left. That night Karunakara Ammamancould not sleep. What would he say if asked about the kovilakam? He could notbring himself to tell them the stories he had made up about the women servantsand their guard of honour or the heavily laden fruit trees. "I’m sure thegood fortune that has blessed the kovilakam will reach out to us as well," hecomforted himself, philosophising: "What must be must be. Each one must enduretheir own destiny."
Kuttimalu Valiamma’s father’sattitude changed after she was taken away. He no longer felt distressed at beingshort. Indeed he began to feel like he was the tallest person in the village andspoke and acted accordingly. He had always worn plain white mundus but he nowtook to wearing mundus and veshtis with broad borders that he made sure werebroader than those onGrandfather’s mundus. Heordered a pair of slippers from the cobbler in Kutttumukku. He had tobaccospecially brought for him from Palghat.
Kachi Amma thought that all thesechanges were because he wanted to compete with Grandfather. But othersattributed them to his new connections.
On the days Grandfather went tocourt, his younger brother would parade, umbrella inhand, in the lane in font of hishouse. One day he met Chamu there. Chamu was the person who washed and tetheredthe cows. He also used to free cows that had been tied up for straying intocompounds other than their own andtake them back home.
"Run down to Chandappan Nair’sshop, Chamu. I’ll be right behind."
He sat down on the bench in front ofthe shop, balanced his umbrella on the ground and asked:
"Do you have good cotton seeds instock?"
"Yes, first class stuff. They cameyesterday"
"Give Chamu a handful."
Chamu took the cotton seed fromChandappan Nair. Chew it well, Chamu and tell me whether it’s good stuff."
Chamu put the seeds in his mouth,chewed them and spat them out.
"I told you they're firstclass," said Chandappan Nair.
"Takea sackful to the house, Chamu," ordered Grandfather’s younger brother.Carrying his burden, his mouth still full of the horrible taste of cotton seed,Chamu thought, "I have been born into the same race as cattle. Actually itwould have been better to be born an animal. Cattle are yoked and forced tocarry burdens but they are fed. While I have to be grateful if I find one squaremeal a day. These people bind even human beings in yokes." Vague images ofrakshasas and ghosts flashed through his mind.
Observing the changes that had comeover Grandfather’s younger brother, Kachi Amma placed her signature on a sheetof white paper and gave it to Grandfather.
"Do whatever you want with myshare of the taravad property," she said. "Don't let ussuffer any loss. We too belongto an excellent taravad even if no one came from a kovilakam to carry ourdaughter away. It was not your brother’s cleverness that brought Kuttimmaluher Thampuran."
Grandfather realised why she wasupset but did nothing with the piece of paper. He folded it and put it away inhis letter box, where it lay like a token of her affection for him.
In the meanwhile, Kuttimmalu’sdestiny proved to be widowhood, not married bliss. She had little to say aboutlife in the kovilakam. There was a great deal that she herself could not makeout in its darkness. She was not sure whom she could confide in and what theconsequences might be if she spoke. Silence therefore became her constantcompanion and ignorance a blessing. She tried to see beyond the darkness inwhich she was trapped and longed for something, she was not quite sure what. Inthe end she learned to take comfort in her ownsorrow. It seemed to her thateven in her conjugal life, she experienced widowhood every night. Was thismarriage? she often wondered. It became her habit to wipe away the tears thatconstantly filled her eyes. There was no one to console her.
Days passed, and moonlit nights. Shelay beside her husband, listening to his groans and snores. There seemed nopoint in waking him up. What could she say to him or ask of him? She was goingto wither away like an untouched flower. There were times when she even longedfor widowhood as the only possible escape from married life.
However, she never once thought ofwhat might happen to her if Thampuran died. Until he fainted one day when she wasalone with him. "What if hedies?" she thought suddenly and the idea began to haunt her. She could notshare her doubts and fears with anyone. She had to accept what fate had assignedher and keep her own feelings incheck.
Thampuran’s end came quickly andunexpectedly. He was not evenbed-ridden for too many days.Everyone remarked on how fortunatehis soul was but forgot allabout Kuttimmalu. No one could have known such emptinessin married life as she had. Shecould have found fault with destiny if she had wanted to. But for what? Forgiving her beauty? Or for giving her a princely husband front the kovilakam? Hadshe not been so beautiful, had she not been married this way, she might havelived peacefully with one of the cousins who had the right to marry her. In anycase, if she found fault with destiny, people would have pointed out that shelacked for nothing after all. She therefore shouldered the blame for what hadhappened, wiped away her tears and played the role of a princess.
When thampurans die, more importanceis given tothe glorification of those whosucceed to their place than to extolling the virtues of the dead. Theinstallation of the next Thampuran absorbed everyone’s attention.
Kuttimmalu was about to tumble downfrom her pedestal as fast as she had risen. She nolonger had a place at the kovilakam.The day after Thampuram’sdeath she had to leave the pathayappura in which she had lived. She had neverbeen allowed into the inner apartments anyway. The pathayappura had been herprison-house. Now she had become an outsider and her presence would pollute.
