Velladi appears like a village stuck on the outskirts of
The small house rose into sight as she walked along a small path made by years of use and not due to some great plan on her part. She suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to give instruction to her son in law and turning she shouted across causing a few grumbling crows to create a big racket. From where she stood she could see the
The temple is made of black stone and stands where the river bends before disappearing from the eyes into the dense foliage of jackfruit trees and coconut fronds. The early morning sun is barely able to trickle onto the ground and where it does there is a violent spill of gold and yellow amidst the verdant grass tended lovingly by Ravindran.
Ravindran has been brooding. Parvati Amma looked at him and smiled knowing very well that the boy, all of seventeen was anxious when she is around. He called her “amma” only for the sake of calling her so; his heart is not in it. When he was seven, his own mother has died delivering the third child in as many years. He was the second, younger to the tiny Ammini Kutty. She had been married off last year and as tradition went in Nair families she and her husband Raghavan had stayed on making the family bulge at its sides. His father had died unlamented two years ago, his marriage to Parvati Amma was for the excuse of bringing up the two children from the earlier marriage and when Rohini was born, he was thrilled. Rohini had changed the equation within the house, all things new and fine were for her first. It caused Ravindran to yearn for his own mother, which with the passing years the memory of her had faded to now be just an image which had neither face nor form.
Ravindran waited for Parvati Amma to walk down the steps, he always did. As she approached he bent forward and got some sandal paste applied to his forehead. She did not utter a word as she walked slowly down the gravel path to the coconut grove where under the tallest tree was lamp. A small brick shade kept the water out when it rained and every morning Parvati Amma ensured that oil was poured into the lamp, it had burnt since the day Radhakrisnan Nair, his father had died suddenly.
She stopped midway and turned and looked at him in the eyes and spoke calmly as she had done for the three months since one of the neighbours had returned from Bombay with stories of wonder. “Who will look after the crops? I am too old and Raghavan cannot be trusted. Leave such idle dreams and work at your school and make something out of this land”. She turned around and walked briskly wanting to avoid another confrontation.
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