Books

A Week in Translations: Preface to Man

an excerpt from…

15 April 1999

…I have started compromising with everything here. When I see my betel-chewing boss, I am reminded of all the rulers of the world. Have you noticed a ruler’s face from close quarters? Not only will it not have a trace of God in it, but will, many a time, have the concealed smile of the devil. Will this same eyeless mask, which is applicable to the heads of families as much as to the American president, appear on my face too when I become your husband tomorrow?

Let it be. Here is a joke that may help you in your Public Services Commission exam alone: our jolly comrade Nayanar has become the chief minister who has ruled Kerala for the longest spell. Our naive, humorous minister!

Read in the paper that the president, hailing from Uzhavoor, has advised the Central Government to face a no-confidence motion. Do you read the papers? Th e hoary Nairs of Thachanakkara must be cursing that Uzhavoor man now. But the government will fall. At least by one vote. Do you know that that decisive vote will be mine—the vote of an Indian dejected about the country going to the dogs.

Parashuraman is the lord or thevar of Thachanakkara.

For cleaving Bhoomi Malayalam with his axe from the sea, and measuring and apportioning it as a gift amongst the upper castes, they worship Parashuraman. Like the contours of the animal-skin laid out for Parashuraman to rest, Thachanakkara lay coiled around its temple. To the south of it were Elookkara and Kayintikkara, where the Muslims lived. Unaware of these religious differences, the Periyar flowed past these three villages, sketching their eastern borders, and emptying into the Varappuzha Lake.

On the other side of the river was Uliyanoor, the land of Perumthachchan, the legendary master craftsman—the ooru or land of the uliyan or the chisel-wielder. Thachanakkara is the land that sent that chisel-wielder to akkare, or the other bank.

However, for the people of Thachanakkara, ‘to go akkare’, was not to cross over to the rustic village of Uliyanoor, but to cross the ghat at Kamari to go to Aluva town. For the bridge linking Kamari kadavu to Aluva town to be built, it would take another decade. Rani Sethu Lakshmi Bai was ruling as the regent, as Chithirathirunnal Balarama Varma was still a minor. When Balarama Varma would ascend to the throne, the wave-shaped Marthaanda Varma Bridge would appear over the Kamari kadavu. Linked by the bridge, Aluva would then cease to be akkare or the other side for the people of Thachanakkara. That the first non-Hindu Diwan of Thiruvithamkoor—Watt Sahib, whose name reminded one of hydroelectricity—existed farther south, was not known to the residents of Thachanakkara then.

The topography that Thachanakkara’s people learnt, running left-right-front-back, was simple: the mud road that ran along Thachanakkara thevar’s line of sight, and extending as far as his vision, creates a crossroad at Thottakkattukara. Turn right and cross Kamari kadavu, you arrive at Aluva town. Turn left, and after two miles of brisk walking up to the Mangala river, you land in the kadavu wriggling with crocodiles that yanked young men towards advaitham; cross that and you are in Adi Sankara’s Kalady. Beyond that was Angamaly, starting to teem with the followers of the Nazarene. From Thottakkattukara, walk straight without turning left or right, cross the street and you reach the riverine beach of Aluva, where the solitary Aluva thevar abides, yearning for the Shivaraathri festival.

Though the Raja of Kochi was right next door, Thachanakkara was ruled by the kings of Thiruvithamkoor, residing somewhere in the remote, faraway south. The erstwhile Venad, exalted by Marthaanda Varma as Thiruvithamkoor, had the districts of Paravoor and Aalangad girdling Thachanakkara in the north; they were the central knots in the rope used in the tug of war that went on for centuries, pulled from the south by Thiruvithamkoor and from the north by the Zamorin. The Rama Varmas of Kochi stood in the middle, looking with childlike curiosity at this tug of war. Finally, Marthaanda Varma won. Though located right under Kochi Raja’s Adam’s apple, Thachanakkara folk began to offer their prayers turning southwards, and learnt to trade with the chakram coins of Sree Padmanabhan of Thiruvithamkoor.

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