Mathilukal by Basheer, DCB edition. Filmed by Adoor Gopalakrishnan
Aanavariyum Ponkurisum by Vaikom Muhammad Basheer Translated from Malayalam by Thomas Palakeel This short novel by Vaikom Muhammad Basheer was originally written in 1953. Many of his works have been translated by A.E. Asher, published by Univeristy of Edinburgh Press and by UNESCO Traslation Series. Basheer is known for his unique style characterized by the harmony of Islamic culture in its spontaneous interactions with the Hindu and Christian cultures. Poverty and backwardness hold the community of Basheer characters together as tightly as the profound sense of human solidarity that emerges out of his thirty odd short novels. For a longer discussion of Basheer's work, click here and read my survey of Twentieth Century Malayalam Literature.
Let me say it is nothing but Providence. The village has two elephants, the property of Chathamkeri House. One is called Little Neelandan, the other Parukutty. Both are the darlings of the villagers. Little Neelandan is a great rowdy. Possesses great dignity, too. Two terrific long tusks, tipped like needles. If he traces some unpleasantness in the way of the world he would kill one mahout. For this purpose the elder of the Chathenkeri House, Narayanan Namboothiripad, has stocked up plenty of mahouts. Six of them to care for Little Neelandan alone. And none of them has bald head. Little Neelandan thrashes mahouts on trees, grabbing them by their tufts. Then he transfixes them with those needle sharp tusks. After that act Neelandan will be upset for a few days. Those days it would be like a great festival in the village.
Until now Little Neelandan has made his death call eleven times, after thrashing each mahout against the trees and slashing them up with those needle sharp tusks. But Parukutty is an innocent elephant. No tusks. She hasn't killed anybody, made no death calls. A meek little baby. Has just one mahout, just for the sake of it. She won't mind even if she doesn't have one. She is so virtuous. Anyone can touch her. But just don't hurt her by plucking the hair on her tail. The famous Aanavaari Raman Nair the elephant thief is a village gentleman who adores Little Neelandan and is quite contemptuous of Parukutty. On the other hand, Ponkurisu Thoma the gold-cross thief adores Parukutty and buys her bananas, jaggery-sugar balls and other goodies, and yet he doesn't hate Little Neelandan. This world is for everybody; private property is invalid; anyone can take anything from anyone: this is the philosophy of the beautiful world order that is espoused by both Raman Nair and Thoma. And they are comrades. Once upon a time a woman named Ammukutty had betrayed Raman Nair in the area of love and for that reason he doesn't have any great affection for womankind whereas Thoma still possesses a great mind that respects and loves womankind. Yes, there are times when we are distressed by the way the world progresses. It is during such moments that Raman Nair gathers up some monies and buys bananas and jaggery balls and approaches Little Neelandan and Parukutty. Right in front of her, Nair would give the bananas and the jaggery balls to Little Neelandan. Then he would grab a few mud balls and hurl them at Parukutty. Though it doesn't hurt much, she would scream loudly, poor girl. . . "Get out of here, you mule," Raman Nair would grumble. "Aanavaaree! Are you crazy?" Ponkurisu Thoma would shout at him. Aanavaari Raman Nair is a serious man. Anger is always at the tip of his nose. And the gentleman will warn Thoma: "If you open your mouth, I will chop off your nose and pickle it!" Faced with such dire threats on his nose, Ponkurisu Thoma the pacifist, would shut his mouth. Once upon a time the two tried to steal an elephant and a gold-cross respectively, and until then Aanavaari and Ponkurisu were known merely as Raman Nair and Thoma. Who gave them the surnames Aanavaari and Ponkurisu? This historian has asked the gentlemen a hundred times; finally they brought out their documents and explained the history of the two thefts. The villagers know this already. Let me record this for the benefit of the students of history. Two During this period of history, Little Neelandan had recently liquidated his sixth mahout and was upset and was even pretending ignorance of the events. Raman Nair and Thoma hadn't acquired their surnames, yet. Their esteemed comrades, Driller Abraham and Driver Pappunni, were traveling abroad obtaining higher degrees in their arts: burglary, entering houses by drilling holes,
robbery. And so Raman Nair and Thoma filled the vacancies and monopolized all trouble in the village and soon Idiot Mustapa and Spider Mohammadkunju began pretending to be their disciples. Mustapa was working hard to be accredited as the top pick-pocket in the village. And Spider continued to exercise his crafts that involved a great deal of climbing: stealing coconuts, arecanuts, hens, etc. Raman Nair and Thoma showed no interest in such inconsequential arts, yet Thoma offered them some minor advices. They were planning a massive strike against private property and to resist injustice anywhere. Of course, Raman Nair and Thoma had nothing else to do by way of a career. One day Spider Mohammadkunju came running: "Heard the news? Little Neelandan killed the mahout and went after the bourgeois police!" The people had already made their guilty verdict against the police. The Police and the Government are rascals! They delighted in the news that Little Neelandan chased them around a bit. It is a popular need to get rid of the police reactionaries. Actually there are only two policemen in the village. Let Little Neelandan liquidate them! Raman Nair and Thoma could care less. Spider Mohammedkunju said: "Let me tell something." "Hm," Raman Nair and Thoma grunted. A great commotion arose at the very moment. All the important dogs were barking in unison, too. Popular uproar. Chaotic sounds everywhere. And there came Idiot Mustapa with the hot news. "Police booourshas, says... our Little Neelandan. . . is to be shot," Mustapa cried. Raman Nair and Thoma sprang up. They are not stones or wood; they ran toward the crowd. Thoma and Raman Nair quickly provided leadership to the people. They began shouting pro- elephant slogans: "Long live Little Neelandan!" "Down with the police rule!" People joined together in rage and surrounded the police station. The warmonger police, those very ass-rests of the bourgeois foreign government, trembled with fear as Raman Nair and Thoma issued their statements: the above-mentioned Government must withdraw the police decision to shoot Little Neelandan, unconditionally and the Government must apologize to the people. "If not, their noses will be chopped off and pickled." In the end, the police bowed down before the people. And withdrew their reactionary, revisionist, bourgeois statements and apologized to the people. In this manner the great struggle to save Little Neelandan ended in victory. Feeding him bananas and jaggery balls, and with the assistance of Parukutty, the villagers gave a bath to Little Neelandan and safely tethered him on a tree with a massive celebration. That day, the elder, Narayanan Namboothiripad of Chathenkeri House, gave a rice feed to the people and thus happiness and peace prevailed in the village. It was during this period that the gambler, One-eyed Pokker's daughter, Sainaba, had a small business: tea, coffee, steamed chick-peas, tapioca, fried bananas, boiled eggs. She served these items from six
to nine in the morning and all the following gentlemen ate them regularly: Raman Nair, Thoma, Driller, Driver, Spider, and Idiot Mustapa. All on credit. But it was known that Sainaba, the prominent beauty of the village, had a deep seated affection for the prominent idiot of the village, Mustapa. Thoma and Raman Nair can vouch for this fact by presenting many evidences and documents. The best evidence is the great magic rice cake Sainaba served to Mustapa. There was a boiled egg hidden in the rice cake! Students of history must remember this. Those who believe in the beautiful egalitarian society find this painful. Everyone is buying Sainaba's goodies on credit. How come everyone doesn't get hidden eggs in his rice cake? "We've resolved to do something against this stinking, rotten, reactionary system," Raman Nair said. But Thoma didn't agree. The reason is that like everyone else Thoma owes Sainaba some money. This fact of life has been written large on the door of her teashop where Sainaba kept her accounts; with a piece of chalk she had inscribed the names of her debters, and with charcoal, the amount they owed her. The account could speak for itself. Driller 0 Driver 0 Spider 7 ana Thoma 9 ana Raman Nair 14 ana Mustapa 2 ana Actually Idiot Mustapa owed at least 40 anas, but that shameless girl scribbled only two anas against his name. "Down with boiled eggs. Down with the revisionist accounts!" Raman Nair mumbled as he walked out. How could I live with dignity after having recorded in history as owing money to one among the womankind? This rotten, reeking, social structure must change! And it was at this moment that Raman Nair was offered a business contract, by Owl-eyed Andru. Andru called out: "Raama Naaaire!" It is no secret that Andru is the prominent miser in the locality. Just to avoid the great loss of paying two anas salary per month to his house-maid, this Andru gentleman married her and made her his beloved wife! The old party is also involved in some sort of agriculture along with his trade in jaggery. It is common wisdom among gentlemen farmers that if you spread some cow-dung and ash in the field, the soil will become fertile. And the famous local farmer Kuttiali had heaped up a mountain of cow-dung and ash by the river for this purpose and he intended
to fertilize his large fields. Andru's plan was to get Raman Nair to pilfer a canoe full of the dung heap. Just a matter of half an hour work in the night and it's cheap. "Here is the ad. . .vanies." As advance, Andru gave Raman Nair two rupees. When Raman Nair arrived, Thoma, Spider, Idiot Mustapa, etc., were feeding jaggery balls to Parukutty which irritated Raman Nair. Why should he do such a thing? Feeding womankind! "Da Thoma, come here," Nair called out. "Am I everyone's ass-rest? You call your woman like that, not me!" If someone curses you in the name of your woman, sure you'd be angry. There are no men worth the name who won't be offended by such talk. Raman Nair became seriously angry. "You mention my woman, and I'll pickle your nose!" "Your which woman did I mention? What woman you have?" Isn't it true? He doesn't have a woman. Not at all. Still, it was an offense. "I forgive this time. Go away." "Go away where? What's wrong with you, Nair?" "It angers me when I see you flirt with that bitch of an elephant. . . Well. Here's thirty anas, your nine, and my fourteen. Go pay that one-eyed monkey's daughter, Sianaba. I've a job to do." Nair gave one ana to Mustapa as a donation. The auspicious moment approached that midnight. It was the darkest night. Most of the villagers were asleep, but the ones who weren't got into a canoe and rowed down the river: Raman Nair, Thoma, Spider Mohammadkunju, Idiot Mustapa. Actually, Raman Nair and Thoma brought Spider and Idiot as an encouragement to the arts. Water was flooding in the river; the undercurrent was fairly strong. Three baskets, a shovel, and three porters to do the job. But the night was too dark. Where would they tie up the canoe? They didn't find any stake. Thoma fumbled around in the dark trying to tie up the canoe. They had no time to waste. Time is money. Raman Nair and Idiot Mustapa finally approached the gigantic heap of cow dung and ash which appeared darker than the night. And Raman Nair cut into the heap with the shovel and that's all he remembers. At that moment the dark heap of dung and ash transformed into an elephant and roared. The dogs of the whole world barked! The village woke up. Thinking that it was the ghastly Elephant Devil appearing in the midnight, those who woke up huddled under their blankets. All this happened at the blink of an eye. Idiot Muhammadkunju screamed louder than the Elephant Devil and sprang off into the river. The village would see him two days later when he did scramble ashore, about five miles down the river. A few minutes after the event, Thoma stirred out and called for Raman Nair who eventually responded with an owl's hoot and indeed he did this from his safe perch atop a tree.
"Whachya doin there?" Thoma asked. Nair was still trembling. "If you frightened, come up. There're some ants. Still come up," Raman Nair said. "Oh, you're too brave! Come down here," Thoma said. If Thoma is brave Raman Nair is also brave. He came down the tree, asking: "What the hell was that? Elephant devil?" "Our Parukutty," Thoma said, "you mistook her for a heap of dung and ash." "You little bitch. I'll liquify your...." "Won't she cry if you try to scoop her up with your shovel? Poor girl! She's frightened. The dung heap is a bit farther down the river. Let's go. Where are the baskets and the shovel?" "Must be there somewhere? Where's Mustapa?" "That gentleman jumped into the river and swam away." "Where's Spider?" It was Spider himself who answered from the shrubs. "Know what? It was our Parukutty. Little Neelandan is there, too, in a distance. See how he's keepin quiet, sayin nothin?" "Raman Nair, go fetch the shovel and the baskets." "You go, Thoma," Nair said, "Parukutty and I are not too close of heart these days." And finally Thoma approached Parukutty. "My darling! My little dreamy baby! I am not that Raman Nair who came to scoop up your little ass with the shovel. This is your admirer! Thoma! Darling, let me take that shovel and the baskets. Please, don't move!" "Stop your goddamn flirting with that bitch and come here with the shovel!" Raman Nair became testy. Thoma kept quiet. And soon they completed their mission and filled up the canoe with dung and ash and woke up Andru and handed over the canoe with the fertile payload and received three rupees, and it was at that moment someone gave Raman Nair the great surname with which he would be honored universally: Aanavaari, the one who tried to scoop up an elephant. Who actually did this cowardly act of naming? Is it Thoma? It couldn't be Spider. Could be some ethereal voice! That night they slept quietly. Soon Raman Nair started threatening everyone who called him by the new name Aanavaari. He threatened to do the usual thing: pickling their nose.
No one would dare to call him Elephant Scoop Raman Nair, for during those days Aanavaari had become fanatically attentive of such possible calls. Nobody dared. And then he found it. On Sainaba's famous account book, on the door: Aanavaari Raman Nair---6 ana. Hm. What to do? If he could pay off Sainaba's 6 ana, she would've wiped it off! But Aanavaari Raman Nair didn't have the money. Look at the decadence of the social system. And in no time, the whole village started calling him Aanavaari, including the two bourgeois police rascals, the ass-rests of the foreign government. "I must fight against this oppression. . . Hm," Raman said this much to this humble historian. "I prefer being called Elephant Thief instead of Elephant Scoop Raman Nair," Aanavaari said. And that was the truth. But no one cared for the truth. His new name had already entered the police books. Click to continue
Aanavarium Ponkurisum by Vaikom Muhammad Basheer Chapter Three One day Thoma whispered in Raman Nair's ears: "Da Aanavaarie, let's all meet at the church ground." That night Aanavaari Raman Nair, Thoma, Idiot Mustapa, One-eyed Pokker and Spider Mohammadkunj assembled at the old Catholic church eleven miles away from the village. It was the day of the feast and great multitudes of faithful people had gathered there. The church ground was crowded with vendors, Merry-go-rounds, rope walkers, and added to these were pyrotechnics and religious sermons which provided the festive night with great opportunities for practicing the merry arts of gambling, picking pockets, goldsnatching. And the famous Gold Cross of the church was to be taken out in a procession. Solid gold it was! And only a few thousand important churches in the whole world possessed one like that. But it was kept under heavy security. Boxes inside boxes! All kept in a secret chamber and the vicar lived next door. The devotees took a heartful glance of the Gold Cross as it was revealed to the public. And the feast was over. The villagers returned home. And a serious problem began to agitate Thoma. It was a serious question indeed. Millions of Christians, and even the people of other faiths all over the globe, know the answer to the question, but Thoma lost sleep over it. "What's wrong with Thoma?" Everyone asked the same question. Aanavaari, One-eyed Pokker, Idiot, Spider, and many other interested parties. Even those two local rascals, the police bourgeoisie asked the same question. "Oh, nothing," Thoma replied. There got to be something. What is it? Yes this is it: The one question every one must ask: Was Jesus Christ our Saviour crucified on a gold cross or a wooden cross? The matter required active research. So, without even notifying
his companions, Thoma set out in the dark with a great sense of urgency, to find the answer. After nine days of research and enquiry, Thoma reached a conclusion, but that day at 2:30 in the night, one police rascal arrested Thoma and locked him up. Reason? The police had observed a suspicious party hanging around the area who came from outside their territory. We know that the police rascals are suspicious of everybody. The old policemen were gentlemen, all nice; they knew the proper protocol and acted accordingly, but the one who arrested Thoma was a new rascal ignorant of protocol. Nineteen days passed by since Thoma was locked up by this reactionary Government. On the twentieth night it was stormy and cold. Those who got to eat something were able to sleep well, huddled up inside the blanket. And there were occasional thunder and lightning. Thoma hadn't slept even at two in the night. The guard, number 1627, good old Palungan Kochu Kunju lit a beedi and passed it on to Thoma and he started confessing his failures in life. "I resign all to the will of God. I am retiring in two months, you know. Seven daughters to be married off. The oldest is twenty-seven," the night guard said. "No savings, huh?" Thoma asked. "Savings? I've to pay five rupees rent for the house. It's the old rate. And my wife is bedridden. Paralysed. It's all God's will, that's how I see it." Palungan sighed. Thoma didn't say anything. After a few minutes, in a more ideal moment, Thoma whispered to the night guard. "Come closer." Palungan got closer. "Can you let me out for two hours? I'll show you a way." Palungan Kochu Kunju the guard was taken aback. What an awful thing to ask of a night guard? But it was Thoma. "Will you betray me, Thoma? I'll lose my pension. My wife and daughters.... Thoma, will you put me in jail?" "I can't believe this. Had it been one of those new police rascals! None of them wouldn't have been frightened like this, Palungan." "Don't belittle the older police. Hm. We're braver and smarter." Palungan quickly looked around other lock-ups and studied the outside, too. All the parties were asleep. Outside, there were two younger police men snoring. All quiet. Still Palungan wavered. "Thoma, remember Tiger Mathan is the inspector...!" Palungan gave a warning. Tiger Mathan was a notorious tyrant. Criminals as well as his subordinates trembled at the mention of his name. "Don't be scared like that, Palungan Sir," Thoma said. "Jesus, give this Thoma some good sense, please!" With that prayer, Palungan the night guard turned the key, opened the door, and let Thoma slip out and disappear in the dark rainy night. The next moment Palungan Kunchu Kunju began to develop nervousness breakdown. A fear of betrayal. What have I done? My service record for many many years! The pension that the Government was going to give me would be lost. Thoma would not show up. My
wife, daughters...jail.... Palungan couldn't stay put. He sprang up from his seat. Blasts of thunder. Lightning. Heavy rain. Darkness. Palungan paced the corridor. Am I going to faint? The young police constables were snoring and talking some gibberish. He sat down again. He thought about taking off his uniform and leaving the station. But where would he go? The man was too old for new things. "Jesus, don't!" It seemed to be daybreak. In a matter of moments everything would be ruined. Actually nothing had been ruined. One and a half hours later, Thoma did return, all wet and dripping. He went right inside the bars, and said: "Palungan, lock me up, lock me up!" Thoma took off his clothes and started wringing them dry. And through the bars, he handed over a little packet to the stunned night guard. Palungan received it. So heavy! He opened it. A bar of gold, about six inches long, a quarter of am inch thick and one and a half inches wide, as if broken off from somewhere! "Let me sleep." Thoma went to bed. Two days later, the frightful news spread; the famous Gold Cross of the church had been stolen! The Bishop arrived. The Vicar arrived. The Sexton arrived. The Church Secretary arrived. The villagers arrived. Everyone came before Inspector Tiger Mathan. Inspector's yellowish eyes glowed. "Hm. I'll find a lead," Tiger Mathan grunted. All the thieves of the area, thieves of the past, the ones who had stolen long ago, the thieves of the future, and even the thieves who haven't stolen anything--they all arrived in batches and filled the police station. They were beaten, kicked, their soles burned, their nails drilled with needles, their genitals set on fire with oiled wicks. Beautiful! Thoma got to watch everything very closely. Screams, cries, gibberish. No one pleaded quilty. Days went by. New suspects were brought in. The tortures went on according to the proper protocol. Then a new batch of suspects arrived: One-eyed Pokker, Idiot Mustapa, Aanavaari Raman Nair, Spider Muhammadkunj. Thoma saw them. He didn't even stir. They were all asked to kneel by a bench and to place their tongues at the edge of the bench. They obeyed. Inspector Tiger Mathan arrived with a hammer and four long nails. "Before I nail your tongues on the bench, tell me: Where is the Gold Cross?" No one said anything. See, none of them knew anything. Inspector placed a nail on Raman Nair's tongue. Before he even made a gesture of moving the hammer, Thoma sprang up and grabbed the bars of the lock-up and shook them furiously, shouting: "Sir, they don't know where the Gold Cross is! Sir, they don't!" Inspector approached Thoma with his hammer and gave a tiger stare and said: "And you know something?' "Yes, sir. I've got to confess a secret," Thoma said.
The lock-up was opened. Thoma was taken to the Inspector Mathen's room. "Hm." "I'm the thief, Sir," Thoma said. "You? But weren't you here in the lock-up at the time of the crime?" Sir, you may beat me up or kill me, as you wish. That old man has seven daughters and a wife who's paralyzed..." "I don't understand what you're talking about," Inspector said. Thoma made him understand. Everything. And he dug up the cross from under the banyan tree in the western yard of the police station. Night guard Palungan Kochu Kunju returned the tail piece, too. "Thoma, why did you do this? And you a faithful Christian--Why did you steal the Gold Cross?" Inspector Tiger Mathan asked. "Sir, hammer a nail into my tongue if you wish. But hear my question: Wasn't our Lord Jesus crucified on a wooden cross? I'm asking why the church got to have a Gold Cross?" The legend is that Inspector Mathan himself was numbed by this simple yet serious question. Isn't it true? The Inspector asked himself and he called the Bishop and the Vicar and the elders and returned the famous Gold Cross and informed them of the truth: the dismissed night guard Palungan Kochu Kunju ought to be helped. His seven daughters have to be married off. Those who were tortured on account of the Gold Cross ought to be compensated, five rupees and a mundu and a towel for each person. It was all done accordingly. Palungan's five daughters were married off. Palungan himself became a sexton. Those who were tortured received their five rupees and towels and mundu. Happy ending. Thoma was sentenced to serve one and a half months in the jail. The villagers gave a ceremonious welcome to Thoma when he came out. In addition they also handed him a little donation. Among the contributors to this bounty this historian is pleased to record the names of Narayanan Namboothiripad of Chathenkeri House, his own younger brother Shankaran Namboothiripad, Chandanatharayil Vasu Devan Namboothiripad, Kariyil Pathrose Mappila, Bulged-eye Andru and Kuttiali Muthalali. Thoma bought a stalk of banana and two pounds of jaggery and fed Little Neelandan and Parukutty. While Thoma reigned over the village as a great man of the people, Raman Nair happened to hear a rumor about the man. A girl was in love with Thoma! Kochu Thresia was her name. Eighteen years old. A beauty. Palungan's youngest daughter! Know how Raman Nair came to know about this shameful matter?
From Sainaba's account book written on the door front: Ponkurisu (Gold Cross) Thoma -3 rupees 6 anas. Aanavaari Raman Nair did not understand the meaning of what he was witnessing. Thoma had plenty of money. How come he still owed Sainaba? We must remember that it wasn't too easy to accost Gold Cross Thoma about this, because for some time now they hadn't seen each other properly. "Thoma doesn't owe any monies, does he?" Nair inquired after Sainaba. "For a few days now, came...Kochu Thresia....to see Thoma. . ." Sainaba didn't complete the sentence. "Kochu Thresia...?" "That's our Palungan's youngest daughter... Came here tired, walking all the way... and...and then I gave rice cake and bananas and jaggery coffee... in Ponkurisu Thoma's account. . ." Owl-eyed Pokker explained. Hm! Injustice! Injustice! Raman Nair saw injustice with his own eyes: That of Kochu Thresia flirting with Ponkurisu Thoma as the two sat by the river. What could be done about this injustice? "Da Ponkurisu!" Aanavaari Raman Nair shouted. "Hm?" "Give me two rupees." Without uttering a word, Ponkurisu Thoma gave the money. Aanavaari looked at Kochu Thresia with utter contempt and went right away to feed bananas and jaggery balls to Little Neelandan as poor Parukutty looked on with her watering mouth gaping open. Being a representative of the womankind, Parukutty stretched out her trunk. "Keep off, you mule," Nair shouted at her. It looked as if Parukutty must have cursed him that very moment. Otherwise how could such a disastrous contract be waiting for Aanavaari Raman Nair? That contract to steal the elephant is clearly the result of her revengeful curse! We know that Shankaran Namboothiripad of Chathenkeri House was the prominent "rebel" of the village. There aren't too many things that His Highness the younger Namboothiripad is not against. "Aanavaari never stole the elephant! It's absurd!" His Highness, Shankaran Namboothiripad, insists. "Didn't we steal the elephant upon your request, His Highness? Or ask Ponkurisu Thoma. His Highness still owes us 40 rupees for the contract." The debate still goes on. This humble historian has acquired this much information on the event. But before we start another matter, let me ask whether your hear the ringing of the church bells? That's the ex-policeman, night guard, Palungan Kochu Kunju. And the bells remind the village of Ponkurisu Thoma and the one important question he posed to the world: Why should the church have a Gold Cross? Now, let's move on to the rare employment contract Aanavaari and Ponkurisu were offered: To steal an elephant! How could such a brave act be done? That's the history we're going to hear. Your attention requested. Chapter Four Elephant robbery is a great art. The two intellectuals of the land hold this belief in their hearts. How to steal an elephant? It's not like pilfering gold, money, or womankind. Let me describe the art of stealing elephants for the benefit of students of history. Such seers as
Aanavaari Raman Nair and Ponkurisu Thoma have said that stealing elephants isn't that difficult of an art at all. Got to be brave! Got to have plenty of guts. And got to know the dialogue, the elephant language! At least three of the choicest that the elephants can understand. Should resound through your nose: Nadayane. . . Settiyane. . Edathiyane! Walk. . . Stay put. . . Turn left. . . Students of history can get this right through a few good rehearsals. And they shouldn't forget that the best time for stealing an elephant is in a dark night. The most auspicious moment is midnight itself. No need of moonlight or anything of the sort. Some pure light that comes out of the village homes is sufficient. We all know that elephants are tethered by binding one foot to a tree. And the heavy metal chain has a little buckle which keeps the beast with those magnificiant tusks and the giant, dark, round mass of flesh in bondage. Just unbuckle him. The creature will be free! That's all there is to it. Unwind the steel chain, quietly. Nadayane. . . Settiyane. . . Edathiyane. . . ! But the artist has to be careful about his body odor. Using its serpentine trunk, the animal might wrap up the one with unfamiliar body odors and smash him on the ground and stamp him out like little ants. All the secrets in the artist's stomach would pop out and he would quickly attain a brave nirvana. Even a suicide squad of artists with the wrong body odors can't steal one elephant. That is the truth. Here is a better way. Get a stalk of banana. Choose the larger variety, the kind that gives out a fine scent when it is well ripened. Students of history must remember this. Also remember the many famous veterans of this art like our Aanavaari Raman Nair and Ponkurisu Thoma and think about how they organized an elephant robbery and came out victorious. This was the time when the two His Highnesses of Chathenkeri House weren't too pleasant with each other. And that happened to be the case most of the time. In order to teach the older His Highness a lesson, the younger His Highness was setting up all kinds of traps and indulging in many mischievous activities: Harvesting the fields in secret, selling off the crop, disposing the timber on their estate-- and the younger His Highness decided to sell an elephant, too, along with the timber. He contracted two artists to steal one of the elephants and to take it across the river and tether it on a designated tree. Aanavaari Raman Nair decided to make use of this employment opportunity for a fiftyrupee contract and he received ten rupees in advance. And soon the veteran elephant thief started courting Parukutty in the night with stalks of banana and jaggery balls, trying to make her acclimatized to his body odor! Occasionally he would give a banana to Little Neelandan also and tell him: "My dear Neelandan. You know the secret. This isn't done because of any affection for her. You know, she's to be stolen and sent away from the village." As he conversed with Little Neelandan, he caressed Parukutty, and tried out the elephant language: "Edathiyane... Settiyane..." Thus it looked like Aanavaari Raman Nair had got over all his estrangement from Parukutty, a member of the womankind. The day before the act was to be
performed, Raman Nair asked Thoma: "Da Ponkurisu...what if the contract were to be for Little Neelandan?" "Hm. You talk as if you would've taken it up! We don't need such contracts. No. No." "You think our bones strong enough to steal Little Neelandan?" Raman Nair asked. "Just the thought of it makes my guts leap out," Thoma said. "Same here, same here," Aanavaari agreed. Thus with a sense of relief they got ready to steal Parukutty. It was also a dark night with occasional drizzles. No light filtered out of the village homes. Ponkurisu Thoma stood in front of the elephant, holding up the stalk of banana. And Aanavaari Raman Nair unbuckled the chain. Ponkurisu Thoma walked in the front, quickly. Raman Nair commanded in a friendly tone: Nadayane! The dark mass obeyed the command and walked a bit too quickly. Not a tame walk, either. A kind of arrogant gait it was. Ponkurisu Thoma hurriedly entered the river holding up the banana. The elephant also followed him. In the river, it wasn't too dark. As the elephant entered the water, that very moment Aanavaari Raman Nair saw the beast clearly. Was he dumbfounded! It was Little Neelandan! The one with the needle sharp tusks, bloody eyes, the ruthless one! He could see the two tusks that had gored many a human being. Aanavaari Raman Nair's mouth dried up. His throat and lips burned. "Oh my Ponkurisu. . . Don't look back. . . We stole the wrong one. . . it's that beast. . ." Thoma quickly grasped what had happened. That it was the greatelephant-rogue: Little Neelandan. Thoma felt he was going to faint. No. The one who stole the Gold Cross for the sake of an aging prison guard thought like this: If Aanavaari were to die, I would also die with him. Let the bloody eyed rogue murder me. With pounding heart Thoma shouted: "What should we do?" "Give him the banana. And take a dip. Toward the right. I will be behind. . ." Thus the two dived and dived, and got ashore almost dead, trying hard to catch their breath. The two embraced each other and trembled and looked up to see Little Neelandan blissfully playing in the river. The naughty one had eaten away the whole stalk of bananas. The comrades reached home almost lifeless and then slept through many terrifying nightmares. The next day, Little Neelandan is said to have gone back to Chathenkeri House and chased around the "rebel" His Highness, Sankaran Namboothiripad. But this humble historian can't vouch for the veracity of this rumor. However, it is a fact that Little Neelandan went home and that the mahouts tethered him with great difficulty. Aanavaari and Ponkurisu did suffer from massive dysentery for about a week. After the recovery, as they lived in peace and tranquility, Aanavaari Raman Nair would remember the event: "Da Ponkurisu. . . !" "What da Aanavaari. . . ?" "If we had stolen that ugly little bitch, Parukutty, it would've been shameful. . . shameful. . . then there would not have been any reason for us to live at all. . ." The End. Click back to the translator's homepage
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