The Visitor ****

Mithran eased the four wheel drive vehicle into the narrow earth road. The sign-board in Tamil said “கோவில்குளம்”. (Kovilkulam)

At the village chief’s house, Mithran presented the elderly Kasinathan Gounder with a basket of fruit. Over lunch Mithran spoke about his travels around the country. “I am experiencing the country. I hope to make a movie of my travels one day.” Mithran smiled wistfully.

Kasinathan Gounder laughed heartily. “உங்களுக்கு மனசு இருக்கு . செய்யற திறன் இருக்கு. என்ன வேணாலும் செய்யலாம் .” (You have the heart. You have the capacity. You can do anything). There was no malice in what he said.

“உங்க உத்தரவு வேணும் .” (I need your support) He explained what he intended to do. Gounder agreed. “நல்ல காரியம் தானே . நல்லா செய்யிங்க .” (It is a good thing. Go ahead).

***

In the evening Mithran walked around the village, snapping pictures of almost everything. The men sitting idly under the banyan tree. The giggling girls returning from school. The boys chasing a kite. The lame dog lying near the well.

He visited the temple, marveling at the well preserved sculptures. The priest, Venkittu followed him, giving a running commentary. Later he shared the simple dinner at Venkittu’s house. Venkittu was lonely, having lost his wife several years ago. She had been gored by a bull, and succumbed to the injuries after a week of agony. Venkittu invited Mithran to spend the night at his house. They spoke late into the night, before slipping into a deep sleep.

***

The next day, Mithran was up early. He proceeded to the temple with Venkittu. In the light of dawn, he collected the trash lying around the temple compound. He used a brush to scoop out the scum from the drains. He scrubbed the walls. The early morning devotees visiting the temple watched in surprise. Why is this stranger cleaning our temple? Soon a group of teenage boys came by. They stood and watched. Then one shyly joined Mithran. Soon, the whole group was sweeping and scrubbing with Mithran. They placed the collected garbage in small heaps, and burnt them. By the time the sun was high, the whole place was spic and span. Mithran gathered the boys and took them in his jeep to the small restaurant at the main road. They had lunch together, chattering away happily.

That afternoon, Mithran set out on his walks again. This time he had an entourage – his teenage friends. They ran alongside as Mithran walked, snapping away. Munisamy the goat-herd, squatting amongst his goats. Palanichami milking his buffalo. Rakayi the shy washerwoman beating the clothes against the rock at the riverbank. The group of naked boys frolicking in the river. Ponnan with his monkey. Karuppan, smiling and holding up his arrack glass. Gopal the postman, pushing his bicycle slowly down the road. Sometimes Mithran’s gang of teenage boys would pose with the people.

By evening, the group had shrunk to a handful. They had reached the outskirts of the village. Where the Kallars lived. Seeing Mookan sitting on his coir bed outside his hut, Mithran approached him. Mookan was taken aback when Mithran came and sat next to him. But soon they were chatting. As they spoke, several men , women and children from the neighboring huts came and stood around curiously.

“நாளைக்கு இரவு நம்ம எல்லோரும் ஒண்ணா விருந்து சாப்பிடறோம் . இது என்னுடைய அன்பளிப்பு . என்னக்கு அந்த வாய்ப்பு கொடுப்பீங்கள ?” Mithran asked the old man. (Tomorrow night, we shall have a dinner party. Will you accept this gesture from me?.)

The people looked at each other. They did not know what to say. Some were suspicious. Some just walked away. But Mookan sensed his sincerity. He nodded and smiled. Mithran clasped the old man’s hands.

***

The next day, Mithran was at Gounder’s place again. The elder had invited him for breakfast.

“அய்யா , இன்னிக்கு இரவு , நம்ம கள்ளர் சமுதாயத்தோட நான் விருந்து சாப்பிட இருக்கேன் .” (Ayya, tonight, I am having a dinner party for the Kallar community.)

Gounder looked at Mithran. His informants had already told him what Mithran had been doing. But hearing the earnestness in Mithran’s voice, he knew it was alright. He nodded.

***
A makeshift table had been set up. Mithran had ordered a variety of food from the village restaurant. Chapathi, poori, masala, briyani rice, chicken curry, mutton, and to wash it all down, ice moru. The crowd totaled nearly a hundred. There was a small ceremony. Mithran spoke to the people. In his simple style, he stressed the importance of maintaining hygiene. “சுகாதாரம் , ரொம்ப முக்கியம் . நாம எல்லாம் நல்லா இருக்கணம் . நம்ம பிள்ளைங்க நல்லா இருக்கணம் .” (Hygiene is very important. Then we can lead a good life for ourselves and our children). Then he spoke about education. The children are our future, he told the people. Send them to school. They will be somebody one day. They will lift you up to a life of happiness.

As he spoke, he saw a familiar figure in the background. Could it be ? Yes. Kasinathan Gounder. Mithran was overjoyed. “அய்யா வந்திருகாரு ,” (Ayya is here.) Everyone turned to look, and seeing Gounder, they stood up respectfully. Gounder held up his hands. Soon he was welcomed to the front by Mithran and the elders of the Kallars. Tears streamed from the eyes of some of the older members of the community.

Then they all dug into the food. The people from this part of the village had never seen so much rich food. But they ate with dignity. The Kallars were a proud people. Soon they had had their fill. Afterwards, everyone made sure the place was cleaned up.

“இன்னும் இருக்கு , போகாதீங்க ,” Mithran told them. “படம் காட்டபோறேன் .”
(There is more, don't go away. I am going to show a movie.)

There was a clamour of excitement. Everyone rushed forward, selecting vantage spots in front of the makeshift screen that had been set up at the end of the field.

Soon the screen came to life. A short clip from “Enga Veetu Pillai ” had the kids screaming in delirium. Next a few old movie songs. Followed by a short animated film promoting personal cleanliness. Then came the highlight. A montage of the pictures Mithran had taken round the village. They were squeals of excitement and groans of dismay and loud laughter, as the people featured were recognised and their names called out. And then, finally, it all came to an end.

The villagers streamed back to their huts, chattering away, tired but happy. A few hours of laughter and cheer, in their otherwise drab and miserable lives.

***

The next day, Mithran had packed up and was heading out of Kovilkulam. To his next destination.

Surprise ****

Maran was extremely depressed. His children were so busy with their careers and their own families that they seemed to have no time for Maran. But he didn’t mind that so much. What tore his heart was seeing the hurt in his wife’s eyes. Valli has struggled all her life for their children. She was tired and worn out. And she had gone completely blind.

It was Valli’s 55th birthday. Maran had made it as memorable as possible for her. They went to the Temple early in the morning. Then to the restaurant for her favourite breakfast – pongal and vadai. She glowed in happiness. But to her, nothing could make up for the missing children. None of her children had even bothered to call. She looked blankly with her unseeing eyes out of the car window as they drove back. Maran could not see it, but sensed the tears streaming out from her eyes.

He stopped the car outside their home and helped Valli inside, to her favourite armchair.

“Take your medicine dear,” Maran slipped the pills into her mouth, ignoring her outstretched palm. He quickly put the glass of water to her lips, washing the pills down quickly. Valli slumped back in the chair. He looked at her sad face for a moment. Next he slipped a pill into his mouth, downing it with a gulp of water. And then he sat back, closing his eyes.

Suddenly all the lights came on and Prem and Suresh with their wives and children all trooped in, shouting, "Surprise! Happy Birthday amma. Happy Birthday paati"

But Valli and Maran were already dead.

Praying Mats make their stand ***

An outstanding item in the news recently: prayer mats standing and praying ! In Pasir Mas, 35 prayer mats stood in prayer. One of the mats stood in as the imam, while the rest followed in prayer. All the prayer mats were found to be standing in several rows, 15 of them in the male section while the rest were found in the women’s section of the prayer hall of the surau.

Previously similar happenings were reported in Bukit Mertajam, where a prayer mat stood shaped like a woman performing prayers. Hundreds flocked to see the amazing sight, and a standing ovation was given.

There was much scepticism, but the faithful stood by the claims.

Pasir Mas religious enforcement assistant director Kamaruddin Zakaria took a different stand - that it was the work of someone who is out to cause an uproar among Muslims.

The mats have since been seized by the department to prevent them from becoming objects of khurafat (superstition).

“We did it to prevent the people from developing superstitious beliefs. Some of the visitors who turned up at the surau were becoming obsessed with the mats,” he said adding that anyone could have orchestrated the incident.

As it stands, it is not certain where the mats have been taken. Unconfirmed rumours stated that the mats are continuing their antics in the Religious Department Office, where there is standing room only. Officials were on standby, to watch for similar occurrences of religious fervour among other prayer mats.

The first encounter ****

Thandavarayan Mudaliar walked in his trademark erect posture, taking long purposeful strides. He never left his house without his umbrella. A vast black cloth contraption, with a solid thick wooden handle. He would hold it in the crook of his arm. It was Mudaliar’s habit that whenever he wanted to make a point, he would swing the umbrella from his armpit towards whoever he was speaking to, jabbing the air as he made his point.

Mudaliar was a tall man with a proud bearing. Bare-chested, he invariably wore a spotless white hand-spun veshti, with a thundu draped around his shoulders. His mouth was occupied all the time - constantly chewing the betel leaves. When he spoke he had to tilt his face upwards, to avoid spilling the contents of his mouth. And this further enhanced his air of authority. He carried a yellow cloth bag, slung over his shoulder. Occasionally he would dig into it. Often to replenish the betel leaves, or paaku. Or to get some small change if he needed some money.

Mudaliar was a respected elder at the village of Valliampatti, a tiny hamlet situated on the coast, not far from Thoothukudi.

Valliampatti was a fishing village. The fishermen lived on the coastal fringes of the village. The menfolk went out to sea in the kattumarams (small rafts), leaving before dawn, and returning in the late evening. The women cooked and cleaned, and mended the nets. Some went street to street in the village, selling the seafood produce as well as shells and other trinkets.

The other villagers were farmers, tilling the land themselves. They toiled on the land everyday, growing rice, grains and vegetables. The farmers would often barter their produce for the fish. The villagers were quite self-sufficient, and rarely needed to venture outside for their needs. But on occasion, some would visit the santhai (market) at Thoothukudi. To buy cloth, household utensils, rope or a new plow.

There were a few wealthy landowners in Valliampatti. Such as Thandavarayan Mudaliar. Although they were rich, and did not have to toil like the others, they too had a place in the society. They were accepted, and respected. And they in turn respected the fisherfolk and the farmers. It was a harmonious society.

It was close to noon. But Mudaliar still had his umbrella under his arm. His bare feet were calloused enough not to feel the scorching heat of the sand as he walked down the street. The street was deserted. Everyone was inside their huts. A hot wind blew from the sea.

“அய்யா.... அய்யா........ ஒரு பெரிய படகு வருதுய்யா. வாங்கய்யா ....,” (Ayya, there is a big boat coming. Please come and see.) Kaathan was delirious with excitement. Mudaliar followed him hurriedly. At the bend of the road, the sea became visible. Mudaliar looked out at the scene. He slowly took in what he saw. A group of the fisherfolk and a large number of women and children were gathered on the beach, looking at the strange apparition. Out at sea was a gigantic ship. Huge cloths were spread up to catch the wind. They had not seen anything of this sort before.

“அய்யா ... என்னையா பண்ணறது ... ?” (Ayya, what should we do?) Munian joined them. The unflappable Mudaliar was dumbfounded. His hands trembled a little as he held them up, trying to calm the people. The group watched in silence.

Soon the ship appeared to have come to a halt, a good distance from the shore. As they watched, several men appeared on the ship’s deck. They lowered what appeared to be a smaller boat into the water, and a few of them got into it, and began rowing. Seeing this, there was a nervous chattering among the fisherfolks. “யாரு இவங்க ? நம்ம ஊருக்கு இப்படி வராங்க . எதா இருந்தாலும் நம்ம தயாரா இருக்கோணம்.” (Who are these people ? Why are they coming to our village like this ? We should be prepared for the worst.) Many of them took up their knives and sickles. Some pushed their kattumarams into the water, ready to meet the intruders at sea. By this time the crowd had swelled to a few hundreds. Mudaliar spoke in his authoritative voice. “அவசரபடாதீங்க . யாரு என்னன்னு கேப்போம். அவங்க சில பேரு தான் இருக்காங்க. நாம நூத்து கணக்குல இருக்கோம் . பொறுமையா இருங்க ,” (Don't be hasty. Let us find out more. There are only a few of them. we are in the hundreds. Be patient) he advised. Although he felt quite apprehensive himself. Soon the boat was nearer the shore.

The crowd strained to make out the people in the boat. They all had their palms shielding their eyes against the glare of the noon-day sun. As they looked, the fear among them grew. The men in the boat looked strange and foreboding.

Mudaliar watched as the boat drew closer. There were 4 men inside. They were pale skinned. Their hair was red or white. They wore cloth shields, covering almost the whole body, with patterns of lines and circles on the front. Their heads were almost fully covered by a wide head covering. All four held stout sticks, which they were pointing in the direction of the villagers. Mudaliar’s apprehension grew as he realised the men could be unfriendly. The sticks could be weapons. His only comfort was that there were so many villagers.

The boat beached, and the men leaped on to the shore, crouching with the sticks pointed at the crowd. One of them waved. The villagers drew back. There was pin-drop silence.

Mudaliar realised that he had to show his leadership. Putting on a brave face, he pushed his way to the front. He spoke to the men in his authoritative voice. “நீங்கல்லாம் யாரு ? எங்கேயிருந்து வந்திருக்கீங்க ? இந்த கிராமத்துக்கு ஏன் வந்திருக்கீங்க ? ”
(Who are you ? Where do you come from ? Why have you come to our village?)
He swung his umbrella, pointing to the newcomers as he moved towards them.

The alien men flattened themselves on the beach, pointing their sticks at Mudaliar. Mudaliar took this as a sign of obeisance, and emboldened, moved forward.

“Fire,” one of the men shouted.

A deafening explosion. Followed by several more. Fire shot out from the sticks that the men held. Mudaliar fell in a heap, letting out a blood curdling scream. Several others fell. The group of fishermen, sensing the attack rushed forward, slashing the four intruders and stabbing them. More explosions. This time originating from the ship. The whole beach seemed to be in flames. Many of the people lay on the sand, dead or mortally wounded. The screams were deafening. The women and children ran for cover. There was chaos. Huts were on fire. The erstwhile peaceful village of Valliampatti was engulfed in flames.

***
Captain Campbell surveyed the area. The whole village was scorched. No survivors. And he had lost 8 men. It had been a disaster.

“We set sail. Further to the north.”

The men boarded the boat, taking their dead with them. The dead of Valliampatti lay among the burnt out ruins of the village.

The remote ****

Rudran fingered the remote, surfing the channels. He settled on a movie. The scene had a few rough characters who had entered a sprawling mansion. As he watched idly, two of them walked toward him. They were pointing at him and gesticulating. Rudran sat up in shock. He pressed the remote repeatedly. But the men were already near him now. Next thing he knew, he was sitting on the wooden straight-backed chair. His legs and hands were bound, and tied to the chair. He was blindfolded and gagged as well. With some squirming and struggle, Rudran had managed to free his eyes, and loosen the gag. He looked around. He was in the middle of the desolate building. It looked like an unfinished house. The remote lay near his foot. He used his toe to press a button.

Rudran was startled by an unexpected barking sound. But he saw a hyena ! It ran toward him baring its nasty looking fangs. Rudran recoiled in terror. Just as the animal was about to pounce on him, it inexplicably cowered, turned and ran, disappearing down the staircase.

Rudran closed his eyes. Waves of relief washed over him. Just them, a crashing noise. Rudran strained to turn around to see the source of the sound. Absolute stillness.

The heat and still air was stifling. Soon Rudran fell into a fitful sleep.

“Wow. This is fantastic.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Exotic.”

Rudran stared at the group crowding around him. There were at least a dozen of them. They were careful to maintain their distance. As if Rudran was a dangerous wild animal. They stared at him in curiosity. A few snapped photographs.

A shrill whistle sounded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The group trouped out, following the man with the flag. Rudran was alone again. Just as he was closing his eyes, there were sound of approaching people. The trumpeting of an elephant startled him. Soon the group appeared. A caparisoned elephant, with two men on it, dressed in full regalia. The entourage consisted of well over a hundred people. They followed the elephant, chanting eerily. Deafening drums and blaring trumpets accompanied the group. The entire procession approached Rudran. As he started in horror, the elephant walked right up. And to Rudran’s astonishment, they passed right through him ! And they trooped into the TV screen. Soon the sound died out. It was deathly quiet again.

An hour passed uneventfully. Then the old man ambled up. He was almost doubled up, and walked at an amazingly slow pace. He appeared almost immobile at times. Eventually he was close to Rudran. The old man smiled a toothless smile. Then he picked up the object and placed it in Rudran's hand. Then abruptly, he turned around and marched, goose stepping out briskly. Rudran stared open mouthed, looking in the direction in which the old man had disappeared.

Rudran was slipping into a delirious sleep again, when he suddenly remembered the object the old man had thrust into his hand. He looked down. His eyes were misted and he had difficulty making out the object. Then he recognised it. It was the remote control. He pressed a random button. Rudran was startled to see a lady dressed like a waitress, approaching with a plate of food. She came close, removed the gag and proceeded to feed Rudran. She was almost done when it dawned on Rudran that she was his wife. She smiled at him.

The lady had disappeared. Rudran pressed another button. And the surroundings dissolved into blackness. Soon it brightened again. Rudran was sitting in the living room of his house. He was reading aloud from some notes. He was reading the news. Rudran stopped abruptly. He had the remote in his hands. Rudran stared at it for a long moment. Slowly he let it slip and fall silently onto the carpet. He closed his eyes in relief.

The End of the World ***

People are obsessed with the “End of the World”. One friend, who sends me daily doses of inspiring and other mushy stuff, recently joined the fray. He talked about the imminent end of the human race. Although it wasn’t clear whether he meant it, or was just pitching for the upcoming movie, he had quoted a lot of “facts”.

One key argument put forward is that the Mayans, who were known for their accurate astronomical calculations, had predicted that the end of the world would come in 2012. (actually this is a conjecture, based on the fact that the Mayan “long calendar” ends in 2012).

If that is not bad enough, we have scientists, talking about Sun storms, which have been acting up of late, and predicted to reach a deadly peak sometime in 2012. Other scientists have been doing their bit, to push us nearer to the brink. Some have been hard at work building the atom smasher, a 27 km tunnel designed to smash atoms together to find out what makes the universe tick. In the process, they are likely to create a few mini black holes, which despite their somewhat innocent sounding name, can reduce our world and some nearby planets to a super-dense blob the size of a coconut. Then we have the Bible toters. Of course, if we look close enough, the Bible can be used to justify anything at all.

I found that some people are taking all these quite seriously. In a website “Survive 2012”, this guy, Rob explains why. He says, as a human, he likes humans, and does not want them to be wiped out. He wants to help some to prepare, and survive.

Then there is Patrick Geryl. Patrick was on a diet of fruit and vegetables, believing this would make him live long. But he soon discovered the futility of this strategy. The end was near. I wonder if he reverted to enjoying meat and seafood for what he probably believes to be his remaining few years.

Meanwhile, Patrick is busy forming a survival group. Although he has an email ID, he strictly instructs us to only email him in case of importance!
”There is really no time for discussions or answering all pro and contra comments...” he says.

Well, in the context of things as they stand, we don’t know why creation happened in the first place. So what if it is wiped out ? Unless its going to create some bottlenecks at the pearly gates. And congestion at Heaven. And Hell too I guess.

But then, if the process is going to be long drawn out, or painful and full of suffering, or if its going to leave a small group grappling with the mess in its aftermath: now that’s worrying. Especially if I am going to be one of the survivors clearing up.

The Gadget ***

The oversized plasma TV images were stunning vivid. But for Sundi, the boredom was overpowering. He got up. Something urged him to sit down again. But after a few moments the calling became too much to resist. He got up and walked out, slamming the door shut.

Soon he was at the store. He browsed the magazines for a while. Then he moved on to the hardware section. The call seemed to be coming from there. He walked down the aisle, viewing the power drills.

No. Not here. Now he was at the electrical section.

Suddenly the buzz in Sundi’s mind. Yes. He was unmistakably close. He looked at the gadget. It looked like an oversized electrical adaptor. Sundi picked it up. He inspected it, turning it over and over. He read the instructions.

“This product is man built for toughness and is long life proof. While using, the thumb is light to push the button and then can better illuminate LED. Do not extinguish from supply...” and so on.

Sundi didn’t have a clue what the gadget was for. But he was sure this was it. He looked around casually, as he handled the object. He expertly scanned for the cameras. There were none in sight. He walked on to the next aisle, neatly slipping the gadget into his baggy pant pockets as he did so.

He sauntered over to the check-out counter, carrying the packet of potato chips and the chocolate bar.

“RM 8.40 sir.”

Sundi paid and walked outside. Once at the car park, he tossed the chips and chocolate into the trash bin. Gingerly he took the electrical gadget out from his pocket. His heart beat furiously. Sundi smiled as he stroked the gadget lovingly.

Soon he was home. He unwrapped the gadget and placed it on his headboard shelf. He looked proudly at his collection. Sundi felt a sense of peace engulfing him.

Vetri ***

The teenage Vetri was a joyful boy. He had a small group of friends always about him. They played together. They roamed the streets on their bicycles, climbed trees. Sometimes they would stand by the roadside and watch the world go by. There was no dearth of laughter. Life was good indeed. The sheer joy of life kept them going.

Soon Vetri went on to University. He lost touch with his childhood friends. In University, he made new friends. Laughter was everpresent. They played and studied together. And often after the exams, they would go for a movie. Once in a while they would drink themselves silly, and talk garbage through the night. Vetri had the best times of his life in University. He learnt a lot. From his friends.

Graduation , and everyone went their own way. Vetri worked for a private design firm. He made friends there too. They shared their lunchtime. There were jokes too. But the relationships were not too strong. Work kept them together rather than anything else.

As the years rolled by, Vetri became a successful consultant. He married the beautiful Anusha. Vetri was so enamoured with Anusha that he practically worshipped her. He would call her the minute he reached the office. And call her again and again. Just to hear her voice. Sometimes he would go home for lunch, just to see his Anusha. His life revolved around her.

After work, and on weekends, Vetri spent every minute with his wife. His wife was his life.

Soon, the children came along. Vina and Vino the adorable twin girls, followed two years later by Karthi. Vetri was overwhelmed by God’s generosity. First Anusha, and then these bundles of sheer joy ! Vetri and Anusha doted on the children. And the kids reciprocated with so much joy. It was heaven on earth.

There were times when Vetri came in contact with his old University mates. But it was not the same. The good old days were gone for good. The conversations stopped short after the first 5 minutes. Their lives had diverged too much. There was nothing to talk about. Vetri knew he had outgrown his friends. His place was with Anusha and their children.

***

Vetri had just retired. The sense of desolate emptiness was overpowerring. He sat in front of the TV. All the programs looked the same. The newspapers carried the same stories. All the books were dull and boring. And his family ? The children were young career chasers now, never to be seen around the house. Anusha had her circle of friends at the club, where she spent most of her time. In fact she seemed to be spending even more time there nowadays. Avoiding grumpy old Vetri perhaps ?

Vetri was more alone than he had ever been in his life.

Six months into his retirement, Vetri had a massive cardiac arrest. And died.