Meenakshi Amma looked into her daughter’s eyes. Fire blazed within them and they kindled a blaze within her too. ‘Induja, I’m your mother. You have no right to behave with me like this,’ she said sternly.

Induja’s eyes fell. She knew she was in the wrong. Egged on by her husband, Rajan, she had turned against her mother and spoken harshly to her. ‘Amma, forgive me. I know how much you have suffered and now asking you to share the burden of housekeeping is unfair.’

Meenakshi Amma remained silent. She had made up her mind. When Induja left the room, she turned off the light and went to sleep.

The day dawned with the chirping of birds. A drongo in the nearby mango tree made catcalls in derision and swooped down to peck the head of the one-eyed cat strolling by. The crows were cawing out to their comrades. A fisherman on a bicycle with his basket of fish went yodeling down the lane. Meenakshi Amma turned for one last look at the house she had built and then holding her bag in her left hand, she set off down the narrow village path bordered with wild grass and Ixora shrubs. Her eighty-two years fell away as she walked with quick steps towards Devaki’s house.

Devaki was sweeping the courtyard when she spied Meenakshi Amma approaching her. Putting down the broom, she wiped her hands on the end of her veshti pallu and smiled a welcome. ‘What is it so early in the morning Meenakshi Amma?’

 Meenakshi Amma smiled back but she was tense. She came forward hesitantly. Putting her bag down she said, ‘Devaki moley, yesterday when we met at the temple you had asked about whether a domestic help could be found for you.’

‘Yes, Meenakshi Amma. Have you found anyone suitable for me? I want someone to help me with the household work and to be a companion for the night. Staying alone in this house after Amma’s demise makes me feel lonely at times.’

‘Moley, I am ready to be here with you. I’ll help you in your work too.’

‘But you don’t have to do this anymore, Meenakshi Amma. You are comfortably settled. Will your daughter and family allow you to come away?’

‘Moley, life is not always what we think it will be. I am here now with you. If you have no objection, please let me stay.’

‘Ok, if you say so, Meenakshi Amma,’ Devaki smiled happily. ‘I couldn’t have asked for a better companion. You only have to help me a little in the kitchen. Cut vegetables while I do the cooking, things like that you know. You are older than my mother and known to our family for generations. Come, let us have a cup of tea.’

Devaki led the way to the kitchen. Showing Meenakshi Amma the bedroom to keep her bag, she went back and made tea for them. The two women then sat down in the veranda sipping the hot tea and looking out at the fields spread out below. The coconut trees swayed gently in the breeze whispering secrets to one another.

‘Moley, you must be wondering why at this age I am trying to earn a living. But sometimes life is like that. Things happen unexpectedly. Yesterday, my daughter asked me for money for household expenses. She wants me to give her two thousand rupees per month as the cost of grocery items has gone up. I have no objection to that really. Often I have bought rice and vegetables with my money. What I felt bad about was the way she said it. You know my story, Moley.’

Devaki nodded. She had heard of Meenakshi Amma from her mother. She remembered how Meenakshi Amma used to help her mother around the house. However it was during her wedding that she became aware of Meenakshi Amma’s skill as a cook. Meenakshi Amma came to her house a week ahead of the festivities and took charge of the kitchen. She was the one who prepared food for the guests and relatives, who came and went all day. And she was the one who made the sadya on the marriage day. All who partook of the feast that day went away singing praises of Meenakshi Amma’s kaipunyam, her skill in cooking!

Meenakshi Amma’s journey from being a social outcast to one who was accepted and respected by the entire village was fraught with rejections, insults and every wound a woman could have borne.

Dark as coal, she was the eldest of three daughters. Her large beautiful eyes earned her the name ‘Meenakshi’, the girl with the fish-shaped eyes. Her younger sisters were fair and comely. Her father was a small farmer and the family led a hand-to-mouth existence as the crops depended on the vagaries of the monsoon. Her mother had a cow and the milk was given to the children once a day the rest being sold to the neighbours for a pittance. Still they were happy in their tiny precarious world.

Time flew and the three blossomed into pretty young women. Marriage proposals came but Meenakshi with her dark skin was rejected as the suitors found the fair siblings more attractive. Finally, her parents decided to get her younger sister Lalita married off. At least one burden would be lessened.

It was during the marriage preparations that Chandran walked into her life. He was a tall, fair and handsome young man and she lost her heart to him. She secretly watched him as he worked on the pandal being constructed. He did odd jobs along with his co-workers as the house prepared for the wedding. On one such day their eyes met. Her heart leapt to her mouth. Did he know about her infatuation? She felt embarrassed. Who would care for her? Her skin was a curse. And he was so good looking. He wouldn’t give a damn for her. She decided to avoid him. And she did so quite successfully.

One day as she was drawing water from the well, she was startled by a deep voice calling her. She turned around and gasped. Chandran stood smiling with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Meenu, can you give me some water to drink,’ he demanded as he stooped down with cupped hands before her. It was the typical romantic scene she had read in one of the weeklies. Warning bells rang in her head. Trembling within, she put on a serious expression and poured water into his hands. As he drank he looked into her eyes smilingly. She felt confused. After drinking he splashed some water onto his face. As she turned away he asked, ‘Meenu, where were you the past few days? Weren’t you at home?’

Meenu stuttered, ‘Nn…o… I was here itself. Inside. Helping with the arrangements.’

Chandran smiled gently. ‘I was worried that you had fallen ill.’

The colour rose in her cheeks turning them darker than the night. Placing the pot on her slender hips she walked past him as quickly as possible. He followed. As she stepped into the kitchen he playfully caught her hand.‘When will I see you again, beautiful?’ Meenu was shocked. She shook off his hand and hurried inside without a word.

As she lay awake that night she heard the kuyil calling out to its mate. Restless she got out of bed and absently came out into the courtyard. The breeze played with her curls. The moon had painted dark shadows of the coconut trees on the ground while they stood silhouetted against the pale night sky. She looked up at the sky. The moon was a shining bright platter. Almost blinding. Moon – Chandran. She hugged herself and went back inside.

As the days passed they met often by the well, in the courtyard, in the corridors or in some room upstairs where unseen he would put his arms around her slender waist, push her into a corner to steal hurried sweet kisses. Whispered endearments, secret meetings. Meenakshi’s days seemed to grow shorter as she loved wholeheartedly. On the night of the wedding as the house slept they met, vowed never to part and surrendered to their passion.

Two weeks after the wedding Chandran left. Almost a week later, Meenu knew she was with child. She was thrilled. She had to tell Chandran. They had to make a new home. It was time to tell the world. She met him at the weekly market and amidst the throng jostling around them she blurted out her joy with shining eyes. ‘Take me home now, please. On the way, at the Bhagavathi temple, tie a thali around my neck.’

Chandran was aghast. How could this happen! What was to be done! He shook his head. Slowly he said, ‘Meenu, what are you saying? This is not right. We belong to different castes. You may be higher than me in that but my father would never approve. Your family is not as well off as ours and also your father has a lot of loans to repay. This will not work out. Why don’t you go to Malu Amma, the midwife to… cleanse yourself? That way no one will know. Our love will remain as it is. I will come to see you once it is done… once you are “free” again.’

Meenakshi looked at him seeing him suddenly for what he really was. Hadn’t he known of the disparity in their castes and financial status when he had whispered those vows in her ears, a few weeks ago? She didn’t speak a word after that. Just looked at him long and hard then abruptly she turned and walked away.

‘Meenu, wait. Where are you going? You haven’t said anything.’

She didn’t stop or turn around.

Gossip spreads like wildfire. Tongues wagged. Women snickered when she went to the pond to bathe. Snide comments came her way. Her family disowned her.

Family honour has no space for fools who believe in love or bastards.

Discarded, broken she left her house. Wandering the village lanes with a bundle of clothes in her hand, she stumbled tiredly to Malu Amma’s home. The old woman welcomed her.

‘What is it you want, Moley?’

The kindness in her voice made Meenu’s eyes well up.

‘Amma, you know my plight. I have nowhere to go.’

Malu Amma looked at her. ‘Do you want to end this?’ she asked glancing at her belly. It had not started showing as yet. But in a few weeks’ time it would. Meenu shook her head.

‘No, Amma.’ She said firmly. ‘I have loved with my soul. That is the truth. I bear the token of my love. I cannot destroy that which is innocent, pure, true.’ She gently touched her belly. ‘This baby is mine. Mine alone. I am going to bring up my child.’

Malu Amma nodded. Meenu continued, ’Please let me stay with you, Amma. I will earn my keep. I will help you around the house and when you go out for your midwifery I shall assist you. That is for now, till my day of confinement comes. And afterwards too when I am able to.’ Malu Amma agreed.

To her, Meenakshi was the candle that drove away the darkness at the fag end of her childless existence. From then on Meenakshi accompanied her when she went to deliver babies. Initially they were met with resistance but as the situation demanded that they seek Malu Amma’s help the villagers reluctantly accepted Meenakshi. The comments died down. Meenakshi stayed at home from the seventh month of her pregnancy and two weeks before her due date, on a full moon night she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Moon-like she was with a round face, fair and a head full of curls. Eyes as beautiful as Meenakshi’s. They named her Induja – daughter of the moon.

Chicken pox spread through the village. Somebody had brought it in when returning from the nearby town. Several households were affected and thereby isolated. It was the 1950s and the disease was still feared. But then somebody remembered Meenakshi. She had had it as a child and so was now immune to it. Rather reluctantly they called her to help. Taking it as a sign from the heavens she went. Helping out during those troubled days she earned their respect. But she had changed. Gone was the shy submissive girl. Meenakshi now spoke her mind whether they liked it or not. And she had a temper too. No more would she tolerate any snide remarks or approaches. Her acerbic tongue was feared by the villagers. However they respected her too. For she was a woman who had faced all odds, alone and emerged victorious.

As time passed Meenakshi soon became an indispensable part of any occasion in the village. Her skills were acknowledged. Sometime later, Chandrangot married and when somebody informed Meenakshi she was apparently nonchalant about it, although it hurt her and she cried in secret. However to the world she put on a brave face.

There were times when she was so tired of standing up and facing the world alone that she wanted to quit. However, always some event occurred bolstering her sagging courage and she knew it was divine intervention. Somebody up there had felt pity for her and started watching out for her.

When Induja reached marriageable age, she was married off to Rajan who owned a small shop in the village. They had two children and Meenakshi amma lived with them till the recent turn of events.

Devaki felt sad as she wondered what more life had in store for Meenakshi Amma. She reached out a hand and touched her. ‘Meenakshi Amma, please stay with me as long as you want.’ Meenakshi Amma smiled slowly. ‘I don’t think I will be here long with you. Tomorrow my daughter will come to take me home. Even though she said all that, I know she is contrite about it. I thought I would give her some breathing space. That’s why I came away. Nothing in this world can replace a mother’s love. She knows that.But you don’t worry, I will help you out during the day, Moley.’

Devaki wondered at this. But Meenakshi Amma was right. Induja came the next morning to take her home. With brimming eyes she asked for forgiveness. Meenakshi amma agreed on the condition that she would continue to help out at Devaki’s place. That was agreed upon and then Meenakshi Amma said, ‘You go home now, I will come in the evening.’ As Induja went away relieved, Meenakshi Amma resumed her duties with a smile and a light heart.

She told Devaki, ‘Moley, so my pride as well as theirs is salvaged and I still can help them out.’ Devaki stood thinking of the wisdom of those words. The simple wisdom gleaned from years and experience.

Note:

Moley – daughter

Veshti – the upper garment of the two piece traditional veshti mundu set worn by Malayali women

Sadya – feast

Kaipunyam – the skill in cooking

Pandal – the temporary hall built of bamboo, cloth, etc. put up outside the house to accommodate guests

Thali – mangalsutra, the locket tied by the groom on the bride at the time of the wedding.