Read THE PUPPETEERS OF PALEM Online
Authors: Sharath Komarraju
THE PUPPETEERS OF PALEM (6 page)
The room, the fire, the boy, the window, the door, the swaying coconut trees, the wet spot on the floor, the creaking cot, the mangled voices—all of them were now running away from him, converging towards a point far, far away. The only thing Chanti heard through everything spiralling together into a soup of yellow and brown and black, continuous like the hum of a persistent mosquito, was the boy’s rattle.
Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat.
And as everything disappeared into a single black dot, he heard someone say, ‘Ga!’
Stupid Mother does not let me play with toy took it away it’s my toy it’s my toy I hate her and Father shouts at me not at her I want my toy I want my toy back I hate her stupid Mother
…
Venkataramana felt the warmth of the boy’s fuming breath. His fists were closed in tight little balls. His eyes were half-closed, pupils dilated and his lips were moving continuously. No sound came from them though.
‘I said,
shut up!
’ the lady said. Venkataramana looked up at her face. It was a smooth, featureless surface that looked back at him. He could not tell what shape her face was. It was hard to say when you didn’t have anything but emptiness to go on. She was fair, though. Yes, fair by Palem’s standards.
‘Vishnu, look at him,’ she called out, and shook the boy. ‘Do you want Daddy to get angry on you? Hmm? Do you?’
The boy shook his head immediately. His lips were still moving. His closed fists were white with the pressure.
Always threatens me with Father do you think I am scared of him no I am not but he is such a bad man he is he has such a bad face when he is angry I get dreams of him at night and I get dreams of you yes you you you I need my doll Mother please I get so scared without it please I cannot sleep but I am not scared of Father no I am not but he has such a bad face
…
The driver of the car looked back for a moment. Another smooth, empty face. ‘What happened?’
Venkataramana was in a cartoon—he remembered paying the big moustachioed man a rupee and peering through the box of pictures. They were apparently pictures that were not real. Sort of drawn by hand.
Just for the heck of it, he wondered if he could paint a moustache on the driver’s face. The movie slowed down while he considered different shapes and sizes of moustache that would suit this face. An armyman’s moustache, oiled and well-trimmed? No, it did not suit the man’s voice. Maybe something smaller, squarer? No, the effect was altogether too comic. The man had a thin voice, but he also had authority. And he could scare little kids.
Suddenly he remembered the man with the box of pictures. Rumour had it that if you didn’t pay him the rupee, he would push you into the box through the hole where the pictures played. Then you would become one of the cartoons and repay the man by playing the parts he wanted you to play. All the pictures in his box, they said, had once been little kids who still owed him a rupee.
Yes, the moustache of
that
man would suit
this
man perfectly.
As soon as he thought that, the moustache appeared, along with the grizzly beard and the stuffy nose and the large, thick eyebrows. But no eyes, no nose, no mouth.
‘Hmm?’ the man bellowed. ‘What happened?’
The boy shrunk back into the arms of his mother.
Stupid Mother I hate you now see how bad his face is and how crooked his nose his and he is making it all bad for me I am not scared but I want my doll back
…
‘As soon as we go home,’ the man said, turning back, ‘we will put him in the dark room.’
Oh no not the dark room anything but the dark room tell him no please tell him…
‘Yes,’ the mother said. And now on her face appeared the features of Sarayu. No, Sarayu could never say something mean like that to a little boy.
Scratch that
. The face was empty again. Yes, an empty face was better than Sarayu’s face.
Tell him no tell him no tell him no I will be good tell him tell him
…
‘Yes, I think he needs to spend the night in the dark room.’
Not night bad faces come to me at night I need my doll not night please
…
‘Is he being a bad boy?’ the driver asked without looking back.
‘Yes, yes. A very
bad boy.’
The boy’s cheeks were red and his eyes swollen. His fingers clenched and unclenched repeatedly. His mother’s arm held him by his stomach, wrapped around him in a firm grip.
Venkataramana thought,
Pinch
.
He pinched her on the arm, just above the wrist. Dug his little nails into her until his knuckles whitened again.
Hnnnn here you go this is what you get for taking my doll for making him make a bad face at me for telling him I am a bad boy I am not bad I hate you I hate you you like this huh huh huh
…
She shrieked. The driver looked back. Just for a moment.
But a moment was all it took.
The lizards did not move. One was curled in a C and the other was stretched out in a straight line. They were a few centimetres away from each other. The straight one was bigger, yellower, blacker.
Uglier
.
The last bits of orange were beginning to disappear from the sky, leaving behind a dull grey. The light in the room was a mixture of receding daylight and light from the hurricane lantern, which was just beginning to assert itself. The corners of the room were already cloaked in darkness.
Chotu suddenly became aware of another presence in the room. In fact,
two
people. He surveyed the room but found no one. Yet he could
feel
them sitting right next to him, on the cot.
The straight lizard made a small but quick move towards C.
C moved away with equal agility, and by tilting her tail the other way, turned into an S.
What am I doing here?
Chotu had not heard any words spoken aloud. Just thought. From the man.
He is nice, very nice. Perfect for me, actually.
This from the woman.
Chotu fixed his gaze on the wall and willed the straight one to move. It moved another centimetre or so towards its target.
S did not move. She did not even bother to turn and look.
The man thought,
Have I always loved her so much?
The woman thought in reply,
You will not leave me. Will you?
No, but we need to finish this.
I… I’ve thought of killing myself so many times.
Chotu’s attention was completely focused on the wall. He pinned S down so that it could not move and then dragged the other one closer. S tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he held firm.
How nice it was to control lizards, he thought. Revenge for all those sleepless nights. Here,
he
was the master. They had to listen to whatever he said. S had wriggled under his grip so that she was now a reverse S.
The straight one (which was no longer straight) had to crawl around to the other side to slip his tail under hers. She did not resist. Instead, she curled her tail around backwards so that it rested wanly on top of his torso.
I have to give it to her. I have to. But
—
You promise?
He crawled on top of her, stretching his upper limbs over her body to get a hold on the wall on the other side. Then lowering his body to align with her curvature, he gently mounted her as their tails flapped together.
We need to figure this out
—
You won’t leave me again, will you?
No, no, just these two days… and we will have understood everything.
Two more days? Will it all be over in two more days?
Should I give it to her? Should I?
Satisfied with his accomplishment, Chotu sighed exasperatedly at the man’s hesitation. It was like watching a bad movie where the boy and the girl spend hour after hour
wondering
whether they have feelings for each other. No, this was
his
movie. None of that was going to happen here. He looked up at his lizards. They sat there, unmoving, locked in the embrace. There was something very rewarding about bringing two beings together—even if they were lizards. He had originally planned to squash them after their union (would he be able to?), but now, maybe he would just let them go.
Maybe I should not
—
Oh man, what
was
this guy’s problem? If you have something to give her, give it to her already!
Yes?
Yes! Trust me, she likes you! You! Give her whatever you have and she will love you for it. Look how pleasant the weather is. It’s the perfect weather for love. Show her your love and she will show you hers.
An air of decision descended on them. Slowly, he saw the white outlines of two human forms appear like clouds of smoke, both entwined on the cot. Not clear enough for him to make out who they were, but clear enough for him to note that the man was definitely not
him
. He was disappointed at that, but only slightly.
The man turned away from her, reached into his pocket and held out something in his hand. Chotu could not see what it was; an object of vague form, a swimming swirl of nothingness. But a peacock feather rose from the top of the object, its blue-green sheen quite spectacular even in the dim light. It was as if a bright white light had been focussed on only the peacock feather and the lizards; so clearly and sharply were they contrasted with the rest of the room.
The girl took it from him excitedly. He still could not hear their words, but their thoughts were now suitably pleased and content. Yes, bringing two beings together was very pleasurable, whether lizards or humans.
She threw her arms around him and they melted into a hug. The circles of smoke that marked their outlines dissolved into the surrounding darkness. Chotu was left with nothing, not even their thoughts.
A breeze blew the window curtains aside. He looked up at the wall. His lizards were still there, just as he had left them. And at the edge of the cot, the peacock feather danced under the lantern.
Chapter Eight
2001
Palem Goes to Sleep
By our special correspondent
AP Mirror
|
March 1, 2001
|
Though Palem has never been a hub of activity (since we began covering this story, we have had many letters from readers saying they did not know such a village existed), it has reportedly gone into deep slumber over the last six months. Though the village is still cordoned off for investigation into the murders, it is evident even from a distance that Palem’s contact with the outside world has been tenuous, at best, in recent times.
Most of the land in the village is said to be parched and unfit to support any kind of life. This is strange because the wells are supposedly full of water, and thanks to the strong monsoon we have just had, availability of water is not an issue. That said, there seem to be certain pockets of the village where land is still fertile. Palem’s people seem to have been living exclusively off the produce of this land.
Mirror
has learnt from talking to various people in Dhavaleshwaram that none of Palem’s farmers have been seen at the local market for a while now.
The police have confirmed that they are yet to start their investigation in earnest. The only step they have taken so far is to cordon off Palem and ensure that no one can enter or leave without authorization. Sub-Inspector Varda Reddy has told us that he has almost finished going over the details of the case and that he will visit Palem shortly. It is hoped that some light will be thrown on the matter then as the state waits with bated breath.
News segment for
Ee Roju
by Sonali Rao
7:30 p.m.
|
March 01, 2001
|
The families of five out of the eight dead people found in Rudrakshapalem last Monday have told
Ee Roju
that they find the incident confusing, inexplicable and horrifying. Sonali Rao has more.
The house of Sarayu Vishnubotla resembles the village of Palem
—
silent, sorrowful and sombre. When I walk in through the door, I see Sarayu’s parents sitting in the living room facing each other, but each looking away into the distance. And yet, just over a week ago, this household was as happy as any other household. Sarayu had just received a promotion; she was now leading her own team of fashion designers. Mr Satyanarayana, Sarayu’s maternal uncle, tells us of that day.
‘It was a happy day,’ the elderly man said, making every effort not to look at the garlanded picture of the smiling young woman that hung on the wall to his right. ‘We were very proud of her. She was a fatherless girl, but so
strong, so
intelligent. Her mother had so many dreams for her. And she had made all of them come true. We are all very proud of her. Really proud.’
The camera panned to show a woman clad in a white sari with a bare forehead and a sombre expression on her face.
‘How long ago did you move to Hyderabad, Madam?’
‘She was twelve,’ the woman said softly. ‘We have been living here for seventeen years.’
‘Do you know why Sarayu went back to Palem after all these years?’
‘Oh, we don’t know,’ the man replied, looking questioningly at his sister. ‘It was the day after she got her promotion. She said she was taking a few days off and going to Palem. We just thought she wanted to go on a holiday.’
Sarayu’s mother said, ‘She got a letter. I noticed it because we get very few letters these days. Everything comes on the computer. But she got a handwritten letter
.
’
‘Asking her to come to Palem?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. But she told us the same day that she wanted to go.’
‘And you did not ask her why she wanted to go?’
It was the uncle who answered. ‘We did. She said she wanted to meet some old friends. Even we thought the break would do her some good. She had been working so hard lately.’
‘Mr Satyanarayana, I know this is very hard for you, but can you even guess what could have happened in Palem? What could have caused all this mayhem?’
‘I… I don’t know. Palem has always been a beautiful village. If anything, I should say too little
of note happens there.’ He raised his hands in a gesture of despair. ‘I don’t know what happened. I don’t know
why.
’
‘Are you… thinking of going to Palem to… see for yourself?’
He shook his head in resignation. ‘No. No. They have given her back to us. We just want to say our goodbyes in the proper way. I think the boy who did this is also dead, no? What will I get by going there? No, no.’ He looked at his sister. She was shaking her head as well, her mouth covered with her palm.
‘He said he had to go to Palem.’ The speaker was a young, clean-shaven man with rapid, furtive eyes. The TV screen flashed his name as ‘Nikhil, Aravind’s roommate in their Madhapur flat’. Behind him, a mustard-coloured guitar lay on the bed amid a heap of clothes and other items.
‘He got a letter or something. I mean, who writes letters nowadays, right? Only old people.’
‘Do you know where it came from?’
‘It must have come from his village. But I don’t know for sure. He did not show it to me and I did not ask him for it.’
‘But you think it might have asked him to come to the village?’
‘It might have, but he did tell me that he had no one in the world. And he hardly ever talked of his childhood in the village. I think he left it when he was fourteen, so he must have some memories of the place.’ Nikhil shrugged. ‘But you know how some people are. Very private.’
‘Have you been following the coverage on what happened at Palem?’
‘Yeah. Yeah. Horrible, isn’t it? Just horrible.’
‘Do you have any theories on what happened, from what you know of Aravind?’
‘Uh, I don’t know
that
much about Aravind. I mean, we’re just roommates. And as I said, Aravind is not much of a sharer.’
‘What kind of a person was he?’
‘Oh, nice guy. He had his faults, but who doesn’t, right? We had some fun times together. Yeah. We used to go for a drink sometimes. You know, on weekends and stuff. Sometimes we went clubbing. Yeah, we had a good time. That’s his guitar over there. Most of the stuff you see here is his.’ A wistful look came into his eyes.
‘You are going to miss him.’
‘Oh. Yeah. Yeah, definitely. I mean, we were just roommates, but you know…’
‘Would you like to know what happened to him?’
‘Yeah, that would be nice, right? I mean, I don’t think there have been any theories as such so far?’ His gaze was directed straight at the interrogator for a moment, then tailed off.
‘They are saying he was trying to burn down the village.’
‘Oh.’ There was a distinct pause.
‘What do you think of that?’
‘I don’t know… Aravind did not strike me as the violent kind. He was shy. Shy and quiet. Didn’t speak much, but whatever he spoke made sense… that kinda guy, you know?’
‘So all this has come as a surprise to you?’
‘Well, yeah, I mean, if someone tells you a guy you had been living with is a killer, then it always comes as a surprise, right? You question many things. You start to feel a bit afraid.’ His eyes moved about. ‘And lucky. Definitely lucky.’
‘What can you do? His time is finished.’ The old woman sat with a garland of beads in her hand. Her eyes were half-open. Her voice was tired and sleepy. The screen identified her simply as, ‘Aditya’s grandmother’.
‘There is not much you can do when your time is finished. Even in Palem, even in the quietest village in the world, if your time is up, your time is up.’
‘Doesn’t Aditya have parents?’
‘No dear, my son and daughter-in-law died when they were about your age. Chotu was eight or nine then. I took him and came here to my sister’s place. She said Chotu will have a good education, a good life.’
‘And your sister?’
‘She was ten years older than me. She married a rich man. That is the best thing to do, you know. Young people nowadays do not understand the value of money, my dear. Are you married?’
‘No.’
‘Marry a rich man, my dear. Never marry a man for love. Marry him for his money. And make him love you so much that he will give you all of it. That is the secret to a happy life, I tell you.’
‘Do you know why Chotu went to Palem, Bamma gaaru?’
‘I don’t know why he went there. He came up to me ten days ago and said, “Bamma, I am going to Palem for a few days.” I told him not to go. But these young people never listen, do they?’
‘Why did you tell him not to go?’
‘Palem is not a good place, my dear. Oh, I know what you city folk think. You think Palem is such a nice, small village where everyone knows everyone else and all that. But knowing everyone else is not always a good thing, you know.’
‘In what way?’
‘You feel like you are being watched all the time. There is no place you can go, nothing you can do, nothing you can say, that will not reach the ears of the entire village. Can you imagine what that is like? There is just no… privacy, my dear.’
For a moment, there was silence. Then, ‘Coming back to Chotu… Aditya… do you have any idea what or who might have caused his death? Did he have any enemies in Palem?’
‘Oh, my dear, no one makes enemies in Palem. Only friends. Yes, only friends.’
‘So what do you think caused Aditya’s death?’
‘I told you. His time was up.’
‘Do you not have any curiosity as to who the killer is and how he died?’
The old woman smiled at the camera. ‘Ultimately, my dear,’ she said, ‘there is only one killer that takes us all. And ultimately, no matter how we die, all of us go to the same place.’
‘So you feel no need to find out how he died.’
‘No,’ the woman said. ‘You see, I think my time is coming soon too. I will see him… I will see them all… soon. Very soon. I will ask him in person, and when you come, I will tell you. In person, my dear. Finding things out first-hand is always better, is it not?’
Not everyone, though, can be as philosophical as that.
‘I’d like to know,’ the man said, ‘
what
the police are doing. It has been four days since this happened and all we read in the newspaper is that the village has been closed off. Arey, if the village is closed off, how is the police investigating? Are they investigating? That is what I want to know.’
The speaker was a big, bald man in a white shirt. He was Venkataramana’s uncle.
‘There have been other killings in the village, Sir. The police are treating this as a mass homicide.’
‘
Arey
Madam, I am not worried about the other murders. I know it is sad, but I am worried about
my
nephew, na? His parents live in America and they are coming here tomorrow. What should I tell them, you tell me. You tell me!’
‘Don’t they live in Canada, Sir?’
‘Canada or America, what does it matter, Madam? They don’t live in India, na?
Arey kya baat kar rahi hai yeh chokri!
’