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Glimpses of Gracy: Baby Doll | EXCERPT

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When they were first published, Gracy’s stories shocked readers with their sexual candour and frank celebration of female desire. She is now widely recognized as one of the most important contemporary writers in Malayalam.

Brilliantly rendered by award-winning translator Fathima E.V., Baby Doll brings a comprehensive selection of Gracy’s work to English readers for the very first time. Read an excerpt from Orothayum Prethangalum:

As Orotha lit a torch of dried coconut fronds and stepped out into the yard, Pennamma chettathi asked yet again, ‘Hey, do you really have to go tonight, Orotha? It’s not as if you have children or things to fret over! Can’t you sleep somewhere here?’

Moonlight shone luminous on Orotha’s lips as she stepped into the darkness. ‘My husband is scared to sleep alone. And I’m sweating all over. Without a bath and a change of clothes, I can’t sleep.’

Usually, once her work was over, she took care to leave well before dusk.

But today, it was when she was about to leave that Pennamma chettathi’s daughter and son-in-law arrived from Kochi. Then a rooster that had strayed into the coop had to be caught and turned into a curry. The two pieces that Pennamma chettathi had scooped out from the curry were still warm in Orotha’s hand.

‘Oh, such a craving my man has for meat! Whenever I see his hunger, I just can’t help teasing him: “If you go on like this, you might even end up eating me!” It is always a pleasure to see him beam like a torchlight as he teases me in return: “But wasn’t it your plump meat that convinced me to marry you?” His sly glance will find my breasts and linger there, even as a wink will tell me that they are still flawless. That’s when my heart always turns heavy, making me sigh: “Isn’t it because I’m not destined to bear and raise children…” At this, he will smoothly switch to philosophizing: “What’s the use of having children, my Orotha? The only benefit is that a whole lifetime may turn into hell, slaving for them. And when they become strong enough, they will fly the nest. That’s all. As for us, what’s missing here? We work. We live happily. When we reach a stage when we can’t any more, we can even leave together.” “Oh, as if that’s in our hands!” I will pout. “I have found a way for all that, my lass, because I’m afraid to lie in the earth without you!”’

Recollecting all this, Orotha laughed.

From behind her came the sound of someone else’s laughter joining hers eerily. Without turning back, Orotha flashed her torch, waving it in the air, and snapped, ‘Out, you devil! Don’t you dare play with me. I’ve heard the story of how you once misguided my mother-in-law on a night like this. But then, this is Orotha!’

With a rumble that pierced the eardrums, a gust of wind whooshed past Orotha. Past the cashew grove lay Orotha’s house. Many had hanged themselves in this grove. The owners being far away, the place lay neglected and unfenced. Anyone could enter and commit suicide there.

Orotha swung her torch vigorously and entered the cashew grove. The blast of air that preceded Orotha caught hold of the cashew tree on which the corpse of Ittaman, the blacksmith, was hanging, and shook the branches, mocking her with a grin that stretched from ear to ear, revealing all its teeth. Before the grin disappeared, Ittaman called out from the top of the tree, ‘Orotha, woman! Don’t leave without giving a piece of meat for Ittaman here!’

Here, Orotha became animated. ‘Bah! Good for nothing! Your woman gave everything she cooked to her other guy only because you had no spunk. Which fool of a man other than you would hang himself because she ran away?’

On the branch of the cashew tree, Ittaman fell silent. The wind let go of Ittaman’s tree and fled to awaken the ghost of the astrologer Shanta.

‘Orotha chettathi, hey! Am I not pregnant? Give me a piece of meat before you go!’

Orotha melted with pity and said, ‘Shanta koche! Couldn’t you have trapped someone other than the son of your father’s elder brother? Isn’t he like your own sibling, koche?’

Assailed by the memory of her wanton act, the pregnant ghost remained hanging from the low branch of a cashew tree.

The wind sped again to scare Orotha.

It shook one-armed Outha until he was awake and whispered something into his ear. Before Outha could ask anything, Orotha said, ‘Outha, you’re indeed a remarkable fellow! In the span of a single night, and that too with that one arm of yours, didn’t you manage to move twenty sacks of pepper from the attic of the big house? However, when it was discovered and a case was led against you, you were foolish enough to commit suicide.’

The one-armed ghost was mortified. He simply stared at the sky, eyes popping out.

When Orotha saw the wind trying again to scale another cashew tree, she waved it aside. ‘Don’t waste your time, devil! Just go straight to hell or wherever. See, this is my house here…’

When Orotha’s footsteps were heard from the front yard of the house, a question trembled on the lips of Orotha’s man: ‘Who’s there?’

Orotha bent down and crushed the burning tip of the torch on the ground. Wiping her face and neck with the tip of her mundu, she stood straight. ‘Who else but me, eh? Open the door!’

To read more, order your copy of Baby Doll today!

Baby Doll
About the Book - Baby Doll

When they were first published, Gracy's stories shocked readers with their sexual candour and frank celebration of female desire. She is now widely recognized as one of the most important contemporary writers in Malayalam. Her short stories, which vary from…

About the Author - Gracy

Gracy is a Malayalam short-story writer, whose first collection of short stories, Padiyirangippoya Parvathi, came out in 1991. It was followed by nine more short-story collections. She has published three memoirs and a short autobiography. She has also made her…

About the Author - Fathima E.V.

To read more, order your copy of Baby Doll, by Gracy | Fathima E.V. today!

₹ 399.0000
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