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. The hall is circular. Even the steps leading to the hall are circular — a total of seven steps. Inside, the floor is black, glistening. With one foot, she cautiously tests the floor to see if it is freshly washed. The floor feels cold, not wet. Inside, the hall is like a big 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, their eyes bulging with surprise. With forelegs high in the air, their horses clench their bits, and appear to be laughing. Beneath the rearing horses, there are dwarves with distended bellies. On the other side of the hall, near a pillar, she sees a brass tray with marigold garlands. There are decorative brass lamps next to the tray.
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi thinks she can hear someone breathing.
There is not a single person in sight. Then, she sees the horseman near her. With his egg-shaped eyes, he is staring at her. He is grinning but his teeth are sharp, dog-like. She turns around in fear. All the horsemen turn their heads and look at her. Their eyes move when she moves. Some of them smile, others frown. One of the horsemen looks like he has something to tell her. It occurs to her that she must run away, but her legs seem to be frozen. Maybe 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, in a flash, she starts running. Even she cannot believe how fast she can run.
Outside in the courtyard, the sunlight dazzles her. The gopuram, painted with lime, has turned dark. The gateway tower stands tall 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, she is not really standing there. And she continues to stare at the Hall of Thousand Pillars.
Her uncles — Ramu Mama and Shiva Mama — pass by too, 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 rise up. She watches their shadows on the ground. Gradually, the birds return to their perch and merge with the gopuram. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi tries to see the pigeons directly but can’t because the sunlight is dazzling. 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, in the direction of the hall. There is no movement there. Gradually, 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 and climbs the steps. The horsemen look at her scornfully. For a while, she just stands there. Then, she calls out to one of the horsemen, “Hey, Fatso.”
He grins and 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. She realizes that he cannot even cuss back.
Emboldened, she moves closer to the horseman and touches his leg. His chest heaves and veins throb in the rein-holding hand. The horse folds its ears back slightly, rolls its eyes, and looks at her. She grabs hold of the horseman’s sword and tugs. The sword stays stuck. She places her hands on the rider’s torso and looks into his eyes. 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 creates an instant balloon.
Why did the temple deities freeze these horsemen? No, 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 come to life and spur their horses on. The creatures will run wild, neighing. Whisking their tails, they will kick up dust, and gallop away. Just like in the movies! Everyone will be scared of the horsemen. 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 loudly says “Om! Kreem!” Nothing happens. The horsemen remain motionless.
“Om Kreem Om,” she tries. The horsemen, shift their weight, and wait 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 the 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 too has called them “Fully Useless Fatso” once. Trying to free the horsemen was such a bad idea! These horsemen must have tried to carry away a princess who then 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. This morning, when they left home, she 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 goes all quiet.
Where is Chithi Kutty now?
ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi walks towards the temple in search of her little aunt. On the verandah, the nadaswaram and the thavil, 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! Dressed in a sari, she looks all 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 bouquet is big, with rows of marigold surrounded by round green leaves. It has a single rose in the center. It would be nice to stick that rose in my hair! Appa will give me the rose, if I ask him, she thinks. But the flower over there looks so heavy, it will hurt my neck, she tells herself.
Slowly, the people drift back in. 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 this for her. But these big grownups are all bad!
They enter the temple. Gomathi Akka has let go of her hand. Inside the temple, the sound of the nagaswaram gets louder, as does the sound of the thavil. ShenbagaKuzhalvaimozhi stands hesitantly. 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.
It is a lamp, not a cup, she realizes, as she gets closer. 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 all wear large earrings and have 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. Then, she smiles warmly.
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, turn 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, and they gaze right ahead. Then, their eyes turn in one direction.
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 tiny glass beads. Her hair is bejeweled, braided with strings of jasmine.
Grandma 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 cry. 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.
Grandmother says, “Don’t leave your Chithi and wander off, okay? I will be back soon.”
“Okay, Grandma.”
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 and drawing her close. “Look over there! On that pillar, there is no statue. It is broken. 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 grandma said?”
“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 runs to the other side.
Overgrown with dark grass, the temple wall looks like a row of fierce male elephants standing guard. There are two huge oleander trees in the yard. Their scarlet petals, which look like dried-up chillis, carpet the floor. 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. One of them stealthily glances sideways. Now, on the previously empty pillar – the one she thought was broken – there is a statue. It is whole.
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 here because grandma made her cry. “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, grandmother, 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.