THE PORCUPINE IN THE FARM
         

A handful of colourful pebbles, red, black, gray, milk-white, yellow and pink, carefully placed on a big green leaf glittered in the sunlight. Ilaa gazed at the sparkling ripples floating in the Godavari. She took one of the beautiful stones, looked at it, tossed it in the air and threw it into the river. The crystal clear water splashed and broke into dazzling drops. She could not enjoy the beauty of the great river. Behind her lay acres of cotton farm ready for harvesting. Cotton had to be picked from the plants soon. The rays of the rising sun became hotter and hotter on the leaves and her hair that was spread wild on her face and shoulder. She could not resist the unusual vibrations of anger at her fingertips.
Ilaa had promised the cotton traders from Paithan that the harvest would be completed by the end of the following week and she wanted to get gold and diamonds in exchange for the bales of cotton gathered from her farm. She wanted to get jewels for the marriage of Lakshmi, her ten-year-old daughter.
“Lakshmi, pray sincerely that they change their mind and come for the work. Pray that we are no more disturbed by that devil in the farm...” Ilaa told her daughter the other day on their way to the Ganapathi temple in Sauviragram, the village where they lived.
They had two problems. None of the peasants were ready to go to their farm to collect cotton from the plants as it was said that there was a big porcupine in the farm. The peasants were afraid of porcupines. They believed that a lonely male porcupine that wandered in the farm during the day was possessed by a “bhootha” or ghost.
One of the peasants was found unconscious in Ilaa’s farm two weeks ago. The peasant was grazing sheep on the bank of the river. He was searching for a little lamb that was missing in the flock. When his wife found him in the evening he was unconscious and she counted seven porcupine quills lodged on his face, chest and shoulder.
“I am sick of this!” she grunted to herself and threw another stone into the stillness of Godavari. The undulation on the surface of the river matched the rhythm of her heartbeat. Anger, fear and worry crept through her like a venomous scorpion. She did not want to go home. She did not want to see anyone. She was unable to face her beautiful daughter Lakshmi whom she had promised a diamond ring and gold necklace.
“Ma... come home...I have been looking for you...Don’t worry...I have an idea...We’ll kill the bastard and show its corpse to the peasants and ask them to work thereafter”.
Ilaa could not believe her eyes. Lakshmi’s face was glowing with confidence and determination.
Lakshmi had searched far and wide in their vast cotton farm. She wanted to find the den where the animal lived. She was sure that she could find some evidence for the presence of the animal in the farm. She was looking for the droppings or the marks of the tail sweep or claw print of the animal.
At last she could find some droppings of the animal beside the rocky, uncultivated area in the center of the farm. She could also see the claw prints of the animal in the soil. The marks of the tail sweep in the soil led her to a den underneath a thicket. She was sure that the animal was staying inside it.
Lakshmi remembered what her grandmother had told her about porcupines that damaged their crops years ago. They used to smoke the dens of the porcupines to kill them.
She had already collected some dried chilly and a heap of dry leaves. She widened the opening of the den with a spade and kept the dry leaves at the vent of the den and burned the leaves. She also put some dried chilly into the fire. The smell and smoke of burning chilly made them cough. But they continued the work. Thick smoke dark began to rise up from the fire. She placed another heap of dry leaves on the fire and began to fan the smoke into the den with a flat, shallow basket used to free grain from the lighter particles of chaff and dirt. The smoke was directed into the den. Ilaa helped Lakshmi when she was tired of fanning the smoke into the den. At last the den was filled with smoke and they could not fan anymore smoke into it. They covered the vent of the den with stones and tilled the land nearby and covered the stones with soil and dragged a huge stone onto it and ensured that no smoke or the animal could go out of the den.
“We will show the peasants and the villagers the corpse of the devil tomorrow and convince them that they will no more be attacked by the animal,” Lakshmi told Ilaa.
Both of them were very tired after the tough task and drops of sweat dripped down from their faces. They wiped their faces with the towel they had with them and took the spade, knife and the flat, shallow basket and went back to their home. The blazing light of the sun fell on the ripe cotton balls on the plants. Some of the cotton balls had split apart and the fluffy fiber white did burst forth. It had to be picked soon.
The mother and the daughter were hopeful that things will change the following day. But Ilaa could not sleep that night. A heap of questions burned inside her heart and the smoke of curiosity and doubt suffocated her.
“Are you sure the porcupine is inside the den? Will it die?” she asked Lakshmi who was already asleep.
She woke up from the mat and walked towards the sit out of her thatched house and looked out into the cotton farm. The moonlit night on the cotton plants horrified her and a thought of uncertainty like a drop of dew fell down from the leaves of her dreams and splashed upon a rock in the center of the farm. She could not sleep anymore that night.
She sat on a bench and listened to the cry of the frogs and insects. The cry of a cicada from one of the nearby cotton plants shrieked and shrivelled her senses. Tiredness and worry crept through her dreams. The glitter of her dreams jingled in each of her heartbeats. But the rustling noise of the quills of a huge porcupine pierced her eyes and the night wind smelt blood. The shadows and voices in the moonlight frightened her and she went inside.
She looked at the face of her daughter who was sound asleep. The beauty and stillness of a lotus in a pool flashed through her mind as she sat beside Lakshmi. She thought Lakshmi was smiling in her dream. The sereneness on the face of her daughter emboldened and enlivened Ilaa and the melody of a lullaby echoed in the moonlit dewy night. She could not resist the weight of her eyelids anymore.
Ilaa had sent for the villagers, peasants and workers and they had gathered around her house the following day. They were curious to know what was going to happen to the deadly porcupine in the farm. All of them followed Ilaa and Lakshmi.
They walked forward towards the uncultivated rocky area in the center of the farm. Ilaa and Lakshmi stood in front of the den. They asked one of the peasants to take away the stones and the soil on the vent of the den. He removed the stones and the soil and all of them saw the den. It was dark inside the den and Lakshmi lighted a torch made of palm leaves and flashed the light into the den. There it was! A huge porcupine was lying dead inside the den. Lakshmi and Ilaa dragged the corpse of the porcupine out of the den.
All the villagers and peasants jumped up in joy and shouted: “Hurrah... the porcupine is dead... Hurrah... we have killed the deadly animal...”
The death of the porcupine brought back confidence and courage into the hearts of the peasants. They were also upset earlier as they were going to lose the food grains in exchange of their work in Ilaa’s farm. They started to pick cotton from the plants immediately. Most of them got a share of the meat of the porcupine.
Ilaa hugged her daughter Lakshmi and told her: “I am proud of you dear.... You did what ten sons can’t do...you made our dreams colourful again....”
A gentle breeze blew against the thick cotton plants as the peasants brought and heaped up sackful of cotton in the courtyard of Ilaa’s house. The Godavari river continued its eternal journey in the wings of sparkling tranquil tides in the sun.