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.