The Thousand Pillared Hall
Big grownups are all bad. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi, the little girl with the long name, has come to this grand conclusion before she arrives at the Hall of Thousand Pillars. This is one place within the temple compound with hardly any people, big or little, in it. This hall is circular. Even the steps leading to the hall are circular — a total of seven steps. Inside, the black floor glistens. With one foot, she tests the floor. It feels cold, not wet. Inside, the hall is like a forest with trees of stone. Shadows scatter from all sides, slanting inwards. A wasp buzzes, bumps into a pillar, and flies on.
That is when ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi notices the stone statues stuck to each of the pillars – mustachioed horsemen with open mouths, eyes bulging with surprise. With forelegs high in the air, their horses clench their bits and appear to be laughing. Beneath these rearing horses, there are dwarves with distended bellies. On the other side of the hall, near a pillar, she notices the brass tray with marigold garlands. Decorative brass lamps sit next to the tray.
In that silence, ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi thinks she can hear someone breathing. There is, however, not a single person in sight. Then, she sees the horseman near her. With his large egg-like eyes, he appears to be staring at her. He has this grin on his face, but his teeth are sharp, dog-like. She turns around in fear. All the horsemen turn their gaze towards her. Their eyes move when she moves. Some of them have a smile on their face, others frown. One of the horsemen looks like he has something to tell her. She must flee, she thinks, but her legs refuse to obey her. Perhaps her back too is glued to the pillar, same as the statues. “Amma, I am scared,” she says out loud in her mind. “So scared!” Then, she breaks into a run. Even she cannot believe how fast she is running.
Out in the courtyard, the sunlight dazzles her. The gopuram, the gateway tower, painted with lime, has turned dark and is tall and imposing as always. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi stands in its shade. Her aunts – Rani Chithi and Kamala Atthai – walk by, carrying a black box.
“Why are you standing here Shenba?” says Kamala Atthai.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi shakes her head to indicate no, that she is not really standing there. And she continues to stare at the Hall of Thousand Pillars from that safe distance.
Her uncles — Ramu Mama and Shiva Mama — pass by, as do some of the other relatives from the wedding party. Each of them says something to her. Inside the temple, the bell rings out loud and clear, ‘ding, ding………’. At this, the pigeons on the gopuram flutter their wings and set off and rise in the air. She watches their shadows on the ground. As the sound dies out, the birds return to their perch in the gopuram. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi tries to see the pigeons but can’t because the sunlight dazzles her. When the temple bell rings ‘ding, ding…,’ the pigeons disperse once again. So, it goes… this play of light and shadow.
Nervously, she glances behind her, in the direction of the hall. There is no movement there. When she calms down, she realizes that the horses and their riders cannot move. Just like Latha Akka has stuck butterflies inside her notebook, the temple deities must have stuck the horsemen to those stone pillars. She returns to the Hall of Thousand Pillars in triumph and climbs the steps in triumph. The horsemen look at her with scorn. For a while, she just stands there. Then, she calls out to one of the horsemen, “Hey, Fatso.”
With that exaggerated grin on his face, he stares at her.
“Fully Useless Fatso,” she says next. At this, the horseman’s legs and hands appear to move, his lips twitch as if he is trying to say something – but there is no sound. Why, he cannot even cuss back!
Emboldened, she moves closer to the horseman and touches his leg. His chest heaves. Veins throb in the hand that holds the rein. The horse folds its ears back slightly, rolls its eyes, and looks towards her. She grabs hold of the horseman’s sword and tugs. The sword stays stuck. Placing her hands on the rider’s torso, she looks at him. He frowns in embarrassment. He tightens his abs but doesn’t laugh like people do when you tickle them. The horse stiffens its shoulder.
“Fartman Fatso!” she says, warming to the theme. From inside the hall, someone repeats, “Fartman Fatso!” She looks at the horsemen. They stand there, embarrassed, angry, not meeting her eyes.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi runs inside the hall. Her long red skirt is reflected in the shiny floor, as in a pool of water. As she whirls, waving her hands, the skirt billows out like an umbrella. She pretends to sit and exults at having created an instant balloon!
Why did the temple deities freeze these horsemen so? Wait, it is not deities — a sorcerer must have done this! When the riders were all set to go someplace, the sorcerer must’ve waved his wand and turned them into stone. They have been standing like this for a long time now. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi recalls a chant. What if she says it loud now? The horsemen will spring to life and spur their horses on. These creatures will run wild: neighing, whisk their tails, kick up dust, and gallop away. Just like in the movies! Everyone will be frightened out of their wits. Even Kamala Athai will scream out in terror. Let her! Let them all cry!
She looks around quickly to make sure no one is watching. Then, she raises her hands and says “Om! Kreem!” Nothing happens. The horsemen remain motionless.
“Om Kreem Om,” she tries again.
The horsemen seem to shift their weight expectantly. Even more furiously she says “Om! Kreem! Run!” This time, she ends up startling herself. Other voices from deep inside the hall repeat “Run!” This is followed by muffled sounds of something taking off. This is her cue to flee as well.
Bats rise, fluttering their wings.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi runs some distance before stopping to gasp for breath. The horses must have broken into a gallop by now. Appa will tan her hide if he realizes that she is the one who has set them free!
She recalls the look on those horsemen’s faces. They must have been evil men. Like the movie villain Nambiar, they will swoop down and pick up women by their waists. Kamala Atthai, Gomathi Akka, and Rani Chithi will scream and cry. Atthai and Chithi are fat — they can’t be lifted off the ground so easily — but what will happen to poor Gomathi Akka? Will the horsemen carry away her beloved little aunt, Chithi Kutty, as well? She has called them “Fully Useless Fatso” in the past as well. Trying to free the horsemen was such a bad idea! These are horsemen who once tried to carry away a princess. She must have been the one who cursed them and turned them into stone. Please God, let the horsemen turn into statues again.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi looks up. The fatsos are still glued to the pillars, their eyes wide open. Her prayer seems to have worked!
Now she wants to see Chithi Kutty again. On the way here, this morning she had sat on Chithi Kutty’s lap, but her aunt was not her usual chatty self. Maybe her stomach hurt – that is the only time she would go all quiet.
Where is Chithi Kutty now, anyway?
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi walks towards the temple in search of her little aunt. On the verandah, the nadaswaram and the thavil, auspicious instruments whose music reverberates at weddings, lay sheathed in their brocade covers. Nearby, two uncles are chewing betel leaves. One says, “Hey little girl, come here.”
“No. I won’t,” she says, and runs away.
There are lots of people inside the temple. It is dark in there. As she stands hesitantly at the threshold, a woman places a hand on her head. Gomathi Akka! In her sari, she looks like a grown up.
“Where is Chithi ’utty?” ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi asks her.
“Shh…,” Gomathi Akka shushes her.
Chithi Kutty is not to be seen in that little crowd. It is very sultry inside. Anand Mama peeks in and says, “It’s time to welcome the groom. Let’s go ladies,” he says.
“Akka, I want to go too,” says ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi.
“Here. Hold my hand…”
Everyone steps out. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi shades her eyes from the sun. The music of the nagaswaram, and the thavil, fills the air. She can see her father’s bald head. Rani Chithi and Kamala Atthai are walking ahead. There is a small earthen lamp on the brass tray. In the bright light of the day, its flame is like a flower.
Appa offers a bouquet of flowers to an old man and garlands him. A petal sticks to the man’s bald head. The marigold and round leaf bouquet has a single rose in the center. It would be nice to wear that rose in my hair! Appa will give me the rose, if I ask him, she thinks. But the rose looks so heavy, it will hurt my neck, she tells herself.
Slowly, the people drift back inside the temple. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi strains to watch the goings-on. No one offers to lift her up or hoist her on their shoulders, so she can take a better look. Appa would have certainly done. But these other big grownups are all bad!
They enter the temple. Gomathi Akka has let go of her hand. Inside the temple, the beats of the nagaswaram get louder, as does the accompanying thavil. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi stands there hesitantly, listening. Crows sit in a row on the wall watching. Two crows sat on the electric wire as well.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi enters the hall again. There is another hall within. Here, the pillars are different. The tops of the pillars are curved, like flowers. On each pillar, there is the statue of a standing girl, with a cup in her hand.
As she gets close, she realizes it is a lamp, not a cup. The lamp is not lit, it is stained with oily soot. And they are not young girls, but full-grown women with rounded breasts. They have large earrings and the same hairdo: a huge bun that looks like an overturned pot. Their earlobes touch their supple shoulders. With her wide and big eyes, one of the ladies turns to look at the horsemen. Her face lights up with a warm smile.
Smiling back, ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi reaches for the lady’s lamp, and places the tiny dot of oily soot on her forehead, like a bindi. The lady’s chest heaves as she laughs soundlessly. The other ladies too look at her and laugh.
That’s when Shenbaga Kuzhalvaimozhi hears the sobs. She hears murmurs too. She looks at the ladies, one by one, but they have stopped laughing. Their solemn gaze is turned to something, someone. It is Chithi Kutty!
Chithi Kutty is sitting under a pillar. She is dressed in an iridescent sari instead of her usual long skirt and blouse. Around her neck, there is a gold chain in place of her necklace of her everyday glass beads. Her hair is bejeweled, braided with strings of jasmine.
Patti, her grandmother, is saying something to Chithi Kutty. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi inches closer.
Chithi Kutty’s blue silk sari glimmers beautifully. Sweat seeps through her powdered cheeks. Suddenly, she begins to weep. The sobs wrack her body. Must be a stomachache, for sure. Chithi doubles over in pain, and cries when her tummy hurts.
The grandmother turns around and sees her. “Is it Shenba?” she asks. “Is everything ready over there?”
Yes, ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi nods.
Patti says, “Don’t leave your Chithi and wander off, okay? I will be back soon.”
“Okay, Patti.”
After the grandmother leaves, ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi stands there, not knowing what to do. Then, slowly, she sits down next to the aunt and lisps, “Chithi ’utty.”
Chithi Kutty stops crying, straightens up, and wipes her tears with her sari. Her eyes are still red and puffy; her nose is red.
“Shenba Kutty,” she says with a smile. “Where have you been all this time?”
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi draws comfort from her words. “Does your tummy hurt Chithi ’utty?” she asks her.
“No sweetheart,” says Chithi Kutty, placing a hand on her shoulder, drawing her close. “Look over there! On that pillar, the statue is missing. That makes me sad – this broken pillar. That’s why I was crying.”
This is true. The pillar opposite them is empty, broken. Seeing this, ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi feels sad as well.
Chithi Kutty stands up straight. “You stay here darling. I’ll go to the toilet and be right back.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Oh no! Who will take care of this brass tray then? Remember what Patti just told you?”
“Hmm…”
“You stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Chithi Kutty goes to the other side of the hall and down the stairs. The sound of the thavil and nadaswaram from inside the temple grows louder, more urgent. These sounds resonate from each of the pillars in the hall.
Now, ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi is truly frightened. The ladies with the lamps look at her impassively. “Chithi ’utty,” she calls out. There is no response. Her voice does not rise above the din. She calls out a couple of times and then runs to look.
Overgrown with dark grass, the temple wall looks like a row of fierce male elephants standing guard. The scarlet petals of the two huge oleanders look like dried-up chillis and carpet the yard. In one corner, there is a huge well, with a protective granite wall running around it, but Chithi Kutty is nowhere to be seen.
“Chithi ’utty.” No answer.
“Chithi ’utty,” she cries, and runs back into the hall. The lamp ladies look on blankly, but one of them glances sideways. On the previously empty pillar – the one Chithi Kutty thought was broken – there is a statue. It is whole now.
At once, ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi understands what has happened. She runs to the pillar. Even though the statue has a body of stone, big breasts, and a big bun for a hairdo, the face is that of Chithi Kutty’s.
“Chithi ’utty,” she says, reaching for the lamp. Her little aunt turns her gaze down and smiles sadly. She is hiding from Patti clearly.
“Chithi ’utty, when will you come home?’”
Chithi Kutty smiles. Then, she bites her lips, as if to suppress her sobs.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi sees her mother, her Patti, and Rani Chithi approach through the small entrance. They are coming in search of Chithi Kutty. The same grownups who had made her cry! Let them look for her, high and low. I will never tell them where Chithi Kutty is, she thinks.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi smiles.