Anju ****

Cherian loved Kerala. God’s own land. The rains, the greenery, the earthy smell. The sing-song language. It was heaven on earth. He lived with his elder sister, and her husband. They lived in a small house in the village, with a tiny plot of land behind. Like the rest of Kerala, the land was bountiful. Fruits and vegetables grew in abundance, and this sustained the family.

Cherian had finished school. He attended the village school at Kozhipara, on the fringe of the forest. He attended school because everyone else did. He could not remember much of what he learnt. School had made him literate, but other than that, his knowledge was sketchy.

Cherian had no ambitions. He did not look beyond the present. At most he wondered about the evening dinner. He took life at it came. His sister doted on him, and treated him as a baby. Ever since Cherian’s parents died of Malaria, Anju had take on their role, caring for and protecting Cherian like her own baby.

Cherian and Anju had few relatives. At least not many who proclaimed themselves to be their relatives. Except Kunjamma. She lived in neighboring Eechanur. She came to visit Cherian and Anju when their parents died. She claimed to be their Aunt, although neither Cherian nor Anju had seen her before that. Kunjamma had a son, Vellan. She quickly arranged for Vellan to marry Anju. And then Vellan moved into their house in Kozhipara. Vellan liked Anju. He liked his new life. But most of all, he liked the sweet heady arrack in Kozhipara.

***

Every day Anju toiled on the land. She cleared the weeds, sprayed pesticide and sprinkled fertiliser. She perched precariously on the rickety ladder, wrapping the newspaper sheets on the fruits. She plucked the ripe fruits and packed them in the bamboo baskets, and placed them on the front of the house, to be sold to the market shopkeepers. She managed the whole business. In between chores, she cooked, washed and cleaned. As she did all these, Cherian would watch, smiling at her once in a while. Sometimes he would ask, “Chechi, can I have a glass of moru?” And Anju would come over, wash her hands and get a glass of the cool moru for Cherian. She loved him so much. Cherian loved her too, in his own way.

Anju's husband, Vellan usually slept till late morning. Then he would get up, wash up and drink some gruel which Anju would pour out for him. He would sit on the veranda awhile, watching Anju. Then he would head for Kuppachchan’s arrack shop, to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening. Vellan was seldom home. Late at night, he would stumble in, to sleep, have an occasional meal and ask Anju for money. That was the only time he spoke.

Anju took life in her stride. She had accepted Cherian as he was. And she had accepted Vellan too. So life went on. Until that fateful day.

***

Anju was arranging the baskets of guava fruits in front of her house, her blouse drenched in sweat. Changanna the shopkeeper was there, with his small Tempo. As Anju bent and moved the baskets, Changanna watched hungrily. He saw Cherian sitting disinterestedly on the veranda. Changanna caught Anju by her shoulder, causing her to straighten up and look at him. Changanna was tall and handsome, with curly hair falling over his forehead. Anju felt a strange sensation coursing through her. She looked into his eyes. Changanna smiled, accenting the dimples on his cheeks.

“Anju, you are a pretty girl. Why are you suffering this fate? Look at that good-for-nothing boy. And your useless drunkard husband. Why are you torturing yourself? How long are you going to do this? Kick your husband out. On to the street where he belongs. Tell your useless brother to find a job and stand on his feet. Come with me. I will give you a good life. We can be happy together.”

Anju was dumbstruck. She had never thought about this. But she slowly pushed Changanna’s hand away, turned and walked away. Changanna stood for a while, then turned and left.

***

That afternoon, Anju scolded Cherian for the first time. “Why don’t you do some work around here ? Or go to the market to earn some money? All day you just sit, eat ad sleep. Learn to stand on your feet.”

Cherian blinked. It made no sense. His sister had never spoken this way to him. Why was Anju angry? He was hurt, and lay awake, thinking of what to do. Sudden loud noises startled him. He couldn’t believe what he heard. Anju was shouting at Vellan. She was throwing the pots and pans at him. “Useless good-for-nothing man. All you do is drink all day. Get out of my sight.” Vellan peered at her myopically. Why was she shouting at him?

***

It was just after dawn. Anju was pruning the banana trees when she sensed the movement behind her. She whirled around, startled. What she saw left her speechless. Cherian and Vellan stood, hoes and sickles in their hands. She stared open-mouthed for a while. No one spoke. Then Cherian spoke, in a whisper, “Chechi, we are here to do the work. You go and take rest. I will get you a glass of cool moru. ” Vellan nodded.

Anju looked at them, tears welling in her eyes.