Wanderers in Eternity – Chapter 4 (Page 3)
“Now, a long time ago there lived a musician in India. He was very good at playing the Yala violin. He would go hither and thither playing his Yala. When he played his Yala he could also tell the future. He was psychic. Days went by and he lost the respect of his wife and she did not care for him any more. She would scold him and torture him. She was a wicked woman. Unable to deal with this woman he left India and came to Sri Lanka. The king came to know about this Yala player. About his talents and his ability to tell the future. The king invited him and asked him many many questions. The man answered every question correctly. The king was so impressed he gave this whole north territory to the Yala player as a gift. Now this area is called Yal puram and Yalpanam.”
“Janaki, come on…” She heard Shivankaram’s voice amidst all the other sounds. He talked about seeing the pageant in the night. She could still remember how she watched the Nalloor pageant when she was a small girl, holding on to uncle Mahes’s hand. That night she stared at the cart of Shiva pulled by all the devotees with such an awe. That awe was not there anymore. Now she looked at the god’s statue and the garlands and the filigree and design with nonchalance. Amidst all that her only happiness was her baby, Vasantharaja. She could still remember the dream she once had while she was pregnant with him. In that dream she saw a pool of blood. In the middle of that pool of blood a lotus blossomed. Bees danced among the pollen of that flower. She saw the bees drunk with the nectar fall into the bloody water and drown. The significance was a riddle to her. She did not tell about this to anyone.
She had a great craving to eat fried food while she was pregnant. She had heard about all sorts of craving that pregnant women had. Janaki wanted to eat dried fish. Shivnkaram was a vegetarian. But because of Janaki’s desire, he brought home dried fish. Shivankaram’s mother Seethamma cooked the dried fish. After the baby was born that craving faded away from Janaki. But even now the smell of frying dried fish would make her very hungry.
They had their dinner in a store outside the temple. More than the rice and curry, Janaki enjoyed the fried wadey (chili donut). She took her meal only after her husband had eaten. Everywhere there were crowds.
The many sounds created an atmosphere of a festival. In the sky the August full moon was rising. The breeze from seaward was slowly cooling everything.
After dinner they walked along the Kannathiti road. On both sides of the road were jewelry stores. Each one of them beckoned the travelers with shining treasures. Janaki’s eyes were constantly drawn to the glittering gold ornaments. The women who touched and caressed and admired these jewelry also had an extraordinary shine on their faces.
All that Shivankaram did was ask the price of a bangle or a necklace. All Janaki did was touch and admire them. She protested after they had come out of a store with words such as “Oh, no no, save all that money for our son,” when Shivnkaram had exclaimed how expensive everything was.
After resting for awhile while sitting on the sidewalk they stepped back on to the road. The crowds were waiting to get a glimpse of the cart carrying the statue of the god. Vasantharaja was asleep. Holding on to Shivankaram’s arm, Janaki dragged herself through the crowds. They had to wait for a long time before the pageant finally arrived. The sweets, the balloons, whistles, flutes, toys, sherbet drink in the hands of the vendors were all part of a performance before the appearance of the god’s cart.
When finaly the pageant appeared, Janaki stared with wide open eyes. If only mother and younger brother were with her, she thought. Ever since brother went to Velvetithurai, mother had not been well. This could be due to her sorrow of missing him. How tragically her family from her childhood had all dispersed…. she thought. Now she had a new family. Janaki, Shivankaram and Vasantharaja….
The pageant that surrounded the heavenly cart, slowly went forward amidst the lights and the din. The statue of the god, the garlands, drums, bells, dances and song…….. everything was a floating dream. The only reality was the little baby, Vasantharaja who was sleeping in her bosom. My own son… she fed him with her milk once more.