The crepuscular rays danced in the western sky as ten-year-old Rasha carefully walked through the muddy lanes of Idaikal village holding a bottle half filled with edible oil and a small bag with two onions, some ginger, a few chilies, and cilantro. His mind encouraged him to do a little prancing because his mother had asked him to get these items to make his favourite onion pakoras*. However, the fear that the bottle might fall from his hand and overturn, thereby spilling the oil, deterred him from taking fast steps.
“Hey Rasha, what is that in your hand?” Shanmugam, who lived near Rasha’s hut, called out to him from the tea stall where he worked. He was winding up for the day.
“Amma* is going to make my favourite onion pakoras, Maama*,” beamed the boy as he carefully displayed his purchased items.
“Ah, Akhila Akka*must have got her day’s wage from Lakshmi Amma today. I know that miserly lady had called for your mother to work in the mansion on daily wages. How much did that tightfisted woman pay?” Shanmugam cackled. Two more friends, returning from their work on the farm, joined him in the laughter.
“Lakshmi Amma’s two sons and daughter will arrive with their imps shortly. Her previous maid left the job, tired of Lakshmi Amma’s nagging. The old calculative woman must have summoned Akhila Akka in her place, knowing well that Akka is in dire need of money.” One of the men said, hurling smoke from his beedi*.
“Akhila Akka no doubt gets the usual money working at Ramu Anna’s cowshed every morning, but that is hardly enough to run the house. She would need extra income after her husband’s sudden demise. At least for now, she can carry on in the mansion. The old woman pays decently well for these two months as she cannot afford not to have a maid during the stay of her children. Maids have come and gone from Lakshmi Amma’s house like changing weather. Once the children depart, that old woman reduces the daily wage by less than half.” Shanmugam stated.
“Her addled brain does not understand the simple logic that the area of the mansion does not shrink after her children leave, and it needs cleaning every day. Other household chores get reduced, but she cuts the pay drastically and exploits the poor women of the village. Will her coffers dry if she continues paying the same wage?” Yet another man snarled.
The gang called the old lady names, mocking her stinginess, and sent out loud laughter.
The behaviour of the men may have sounded raucous, but there was truth in what they said.
Lakshmi Amma was the wealthiest woman in the village. No one matched her financial status in any of the neighbouring towns. She owned acres of farmland and made good money by cultivating various crops, but she needed to be less stingy and sociable.
She wouldn’t appreciate anyone inferior to her in status visiting her mansion premises. Lakshmi Amma treated the maids who came to work in her mansion contemptuously. She stayed aloof even with those who were decently well-to-do. The mansion bore an abandoned look. Her three children lived away in the cities, and they visited her during her grandchildren’s summer holidays. Only during those months would there be the hustle and bustle in the mansion.
Barring a few elders in the village, no one had seen Lakshmi Amma’s husband. They say, unlike Lakshmi Amma, he was a very generous man. His philanthropic nature was constantly snubbed by his wife, and eventually, tired of her parsimonious ways and mean nature, her husband departed from the village, never to be seen again. He left enough money and property in Lakshmi Amma’s name.
Rasha heard whatever Shanmugam and the others spoke about Lakshmi Amma, but he could not comprehend much.
More interested in safely taking home the things he had bought, he walked cautiously towards his hut. As he passed through the lane where Lakshmi Amma’s mansion was situated, Rasha’s eyes fell on the papaya in the tree that grew in the garden. Luscious yellowish-green papayas grew in abundance every summer only in the mansion garden in the entire Idaikal village. Involuntarily, Rasha started drooling.
“Amma, can we buy papaya next time from the Monday market in our village? I love them. I tasted one piece when my friend Gannu got some to school when he returned after visiting his grandfather’s house in Kadalur. It was so tasty.” Rasha had smacked his lips one evening last week after he returned from school.
Taking his round face between her palms, Akhila kissed his forehead. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“It is alright, Amma, don’t cry; I don’t need papaya.” The child who had grown up overnight after his father died spoke wistfully, knowing what his mother’s tears conveyed. Papayas, the vendors brought for selling in the Monday market, were expensive, and Akhila could not buy them for him. Only a few well-to-do families from Idaikal and nearby villages could afford to purchase such fruits. Even if Akhila’s husband were alive, purchasing a costly fruit would have been difficult. He was a poor farmer who had slogged tirelessly in Lakshmi Amma’s paddy fields. One hot afternoon last month, he suddenly collapsed while working in the field and died.
Children of indigent parents mature naturally. Rasha was one such kid who never made any untoward demands. However, the sight of the luscious papaya In Lakshmi Amma’s mansion garden kindled a yearning in the boy’s heart. His appetite for the papayas seemed to be growing every minute.
He walked home thinking about the juicy fruit.
Handing over the bottle of oil and the bag to his mother, Rasha asked in a subdued tone, “Amma, why don’t you ask Lakshmi Amma for one papaya from her garden when you go to work next time? They look so……..” He stopped halfway, meeting his mother’s bewildered glance.
“Lakshmi Amma has kept the papayas for her grandchildren and would not partake with them. Her sons and her daughter are arriving in a fortnight with their respective families. Lakshmi Amma has asked me to work in the mansion regularly starting tomorrow. If I get good money, I shall buy the papaya for you from the Monday market.” Akhila smiled, her angst tactfully camouflaged behind that smile.
The word ‘if’ played a crucial role in keeping hopes kindled in poverty-stricken families like Akhila’s. If the rich wish to share, they may give us a sumptuous meal; if the Gods will, we can get a square meal. And now Akhila amiably used the word ‘if,’ knowing well that getting that kind of money from Lakshmi Amma to spend on a costly fruit like papaya would be like asking for the moon. Akhila was only looking ahead to meet the basic expenses for the next few weeks. Even after Lakshmi Amma’s kids leave, if God-willed, she may be asked to continue to work there, albeit for a meagre salary. Given Akhila’s pathetic condition, any amount, even paltry, was welcome.
Akhila heaved an agonizing sigh as she served the pakoras to Rasha.
The boy ate in a pensive mood. He loved his mother but was upset that she refused to ask Lakshmi Amma for a papaya. His friends, he knew, would implore him to talk to his mother about the papaya once they became aware that she was working in the mansion. What was Rasha going to tell them?
It happened just as he expected. “Hey, Rasha, my mother said that your mother will be working in the mansion. Ask her to get some papayas from the mansion garden for us. The papayas look so luscious.” Muthu, Rasha’s friend, smacked his lips.
Rasha’s friends mocked him when he told them his mother could not ask Lakshmi Amma for even one papaya.
“Why ask Lakshmi Amma; can’t your mother go and pluck one or two?” Rasha’s class fellow, Velu suggested.
“Hundreds of them are on the tree; how will Lakshmi Amma know if a few go missing? Your mother can pluck some that are hanging low.” Yet another boy opined.
Suggestions came pouring, but Rasha was apprehensive about conveying them to his mother. Nevertheless, he broached the subject lying beside her on their half-ragged mat at night.
“Amma, do some papayas also grow near the ground, easy to pluck with our hands?” He nervously gulped what seemed like a massive lump of saliva. “I have seen them over the compound wall of the mansion, but my friends say some grow below those. Is that true?” He blinked.
“Yes, they do,” Akhila answered, keeping the reply short. She anticipated what was to come.
“Then why can’t you pluck a few if your hands can reach them? Please get them tomorrow.” He coaxed her but was disappointed when she vigorously shook her head.
“The gardener, Paari, stays on vigil. No one can pluck anything from the mansion garden. And taking someone’s things without seeking their permission amounts to theft. Do you get it? Now sleep.” Akhila’s voice began softly and ended on a stern note, forcing Rasha to shut his eyes tight. He pretended to be asleep but was dreaming of the juicy papayas.
Soon, fatigue took over him, and he fell asleep, but the papaya tree appeared in his dreams with its piquancy. He saw the humungous figure of Lakshmi Amma’s grandson, who devoured all the papayas, leaving nothing. There were tears in Rasha’s eyes as he stood there holding his mother’s hand.
‘What are you looking at, you rascal? Get lost from here. Don’t set your evil, greedy eyes on my grandson.’ Lakshmi Amma came with a stick, carrying her colossal figure with difficulty towards Rasha.
Rasha suddenly woke up sweating profusely and rubbed his eyes. Looking around, he heaved a sigh of relief at seeing his shanty hut. Thank God it was not the mansion garden!
“Amma says taking someone’s things without their permission is akin to stealing.” Rasha lectured to his friends the following evening when they gathered to play hopscotch and hide and seek. All his friends guffawed at this newly acquired wisdom.
Rasha remained sulky for the following days, manifesting signs of severe stubbornness. Akhila was disturbed. He had not been like this before.
Then, news that Lakshmi Amma’s children and grandchildren have arrived spread like wildfire in Idaikal.
The evening after they arrived, Akhila came home from work with a bag in her hand. Seeing her from afar, Rasha was thrilled, assuming it was papaya, but was disappointed as the aroma of jackfruit permeated through the air as his mother approached the hut.
“Today, Paari had arranged for someone to pluck the jackfruits in the mansion garden. There were fifteen of them,” Akhila rolled her eyes, reminiscing the scene of the piled-up jackfruits.
She removed what looked like a 1/8th portion of a medium-sized jackfruit from the bag.
“Is that all that miserly lady gave you, Akka*?” Shanmugam, who came in, asked her. “Shhh,” Akhila hushed him. “Do not say such things about Lakshmi Amma. Someone may hear and take offense.” Akhila warned Shanmugam and, turning towards Rasha, offered him the jackfruit.
Rasha suddenly developed an aversion to the fruit. It had come in place of the papaya. “I don’t want this. Why did you not get papaya?” He howled.
Placating him, Akhila said that Lakshmi Amma’s grandchildren wanted to have the jackfruits first.
“They are going to Tirupati* tomorrow for a couple of days. Maybe they will pluck the papayas after they return.” She tried coaxing Rasha to have the few pieces of jackfruit.
Shanmugam intervened, “Even if they pluck the papaya, they may give you a small piece like this. It will only trigger Rasha’s appetite more for the fruit.” He hadn’t finished speaking when Rasha cried, “I want to share with my friends too. Even they want to eat papaya. How can I give it to them if you bring a small piece like this?” He wiped his eyes. “I need to have at least one full papaya,” he grumbled and walked out instantly. Akhila looked on at the receding figure of the kid helplessly.
“Listen,” called out Pandian, Rasha’a friend, approaching Rasha from behind. as he ran aimlessly with tears in his eyes.
“My father says Lakshmi Amma and her visiting family will be away for two days. They are leaving for Tirupati tomorrow evening in their van.”
Rasha nodded, affirming that he was aware of it.
“Paari gave my father the information and called him to his shed tomorrow night to consume alcohol.” Taking a brief pause, Pandian rolled his eyes dramatically. “I have a plan,” he said as more boys joined the duo. They creased their brows in confusion.
Pandian asked them to gather in a close circle and began whispering his plan.
“Tomorrow night, after everyone sleeps in the house, we will sneak out to the mansion. Let us jump the mansion’s wall and pluck a few papayas. One for each.”
“But what if Paari catches us?” Rasha cringed.
“That will not happen; when my father and Paari get together, they will be inebriated. I can vouch for it because it happened once when Lakshmi Amma visited her sister for a week; my father came home all wobbly in the night.” Pandian’s explanation gave respite to Rasha.
“While speaking to Paari, standing near the mansion gate today, my father said he saw some jackfruits plucked and piled. Let us take one from that, too.” Pandian extended his scheme.
There was pin-drop silence for a while. Then, some boys shook themselves away from the circle, refusing to comply with the plan.
“Then you all won’t get any share,” Pandian brandished his pointer.
Rasha stood brooding. His mother’s words regarding taking someone’s things without their permission being akin to theft kept reverberating in his ears. The yearning and appetite for the luscious papayas finally triumphed over all forms of ethics, and Rasha consented to the plan.
Only two more boys, besides Pandian and Rasha, came forward to execute the plan of sneaking from their houses and jumping over the mansion wall. They were Arul and Perumal, both twelve-year-old boys like Pandian. Rasha was the youngest in the group.
The four boys’ huts were very close to one another, so they decided to tiptoe out of their houses and wait for each other. Then, they would go together to the mansion a little farther away from their huts.
Rasha patiently waited for his mother to doze off. Akhila worked so hard through the day that she fell into a slumber every night. Knowing this well, Rasha had conceded to Pandian’s plan. He would be back soon, and his mother would not even know he was away for some time.
Even though Rasha was sleepy, the excitement of getting the papayas from the mansion kept him from shutting his eyes. Generally, both Rasha and his mother slept very early because his mother often said she needed at least eight hours of rest. She got up at the first crowing of the rooster, which was supposed to be 4 am, as she had to go and milk the cows and clean the cowshed at Ramu Anna’s house. With the help of whatever little maths he knew, Rasha deciphered that his mother would sleep by eight.
Rasha was the first to come out of his hut. It was pitch dark, being only a few days before, no moon day. By a little past eight, the village had a deserted look. Even the last bus stopped at eight. Rasha paced to and fro warily, waiting for Pandian and the others. They all arrived one after the other.
“Come one,” Pandian whispered. They walked hand in hand, nervous of the night and the deserted lanes.
Once they reached the mansion, Pandian instructed, “Since you three are too short to climb over the wall, climb on me one by one and jump over. I will jump after that.” Pandian was tall, so he lifted them on his shoulders, and they scaled the wall.
Thankfully, Lakshmi Amma had aversions to dogs. She had never nurtured a pet in the mansion. Paari was the only person manning the gate and mansion compound.
The mansion compound had decent lights for the boys’ visibility. The three of them were so excited upon landing near the papaya tree that they stood open-mouthed, gazing at the number of papayas that adorned the tree. Outside the mansion, Pandian was struggling to climb the wall.
Standing near the papaya tree, Rasha urged his friend, Arul, to lift him. Rasha’s mind raced fast as his hands reached a bunch of papayas. He successfully pulled a few of them when the boys realized that there was a sound of a vehicle honking near the mansion gate.
No sooner than he saw Lakshmi Amma’s vehicle, Pandian gave up clambering the wall. He took to his heels without being noticed and stopped upon reaching his hut. ‘How did the vehicle return? They left only a couple of hours before.’ Pandian muttered under his breath. He got worried about his three friends who were inside the mansion. He was also equally worried for his father, who at that moment was with Paari in his shed.
The honking continued near the mansion gate for a while, making futile efforts to wake Paari to open the gate.
The trio stood transfixed when they saw a man get out of the vehicle to open the gate. The van zoomed in, and its headlights fell right on the three.
“Who the hell are you guys?” The man shouted in an obnoxious accent.
Throwing a glance at the papayas lying on the ground, he bellowed, “Oh, looks like you have come to steal the papayas; wait, let me teach you a……” He hadn’t finished when someone from the car beckoned him. “Illango Anna, what are you doing there? Wake up Paari and ask him where the Vaidhiyar* lives. Amma is writhing in pain.” The boys understood that the man was one of Lakshmi Amma’s sons.
In such a tight situation, even the most outstanding personalities’ brains will refuse to work, but as if it were a knee-jerk reaction, Rasha told Illango, “We know where the Vaidhiyar stays. Can we get him?” The other two nodded in unison.
For a moment, Illango looked sceptically at the three. “If this is a ploy to run away, you are mistaken,” he brandished his pointer at the trembling trio. “One of you go and fetch the Vaidhiyar.” The three blinked nervously, not wanting to go alone. The night had become still darker.
Illango eyed them suspiciously and guffawed, “Looks like none of you want to go alone, bloody cowards. Then two of you go, and let one……” He was interrupted again by someone who had just got out of the van. “Illango Anna, is Paari responding. Someone has to call the Vaidhiyar soon. Only he can tell us how severe the matter is, and if needed, we should take Amma to the town hospital.”
The three boys were lucky. Realizing that he was wasting precious minutes arguing with the kids, Illango turned towards them and bawled impatiently, “Run then, all three of you, and get the Vaidhiyar here soon. If you accompany him, you can take the papayas. If you don’t come with him, I will hunt for you tomorrow with the help of the Vaidhiyar and hand you over to the police for trespassing, you thieves! And don’t even bother to run away without summoning the Vaidhiyar. You will be inviting more trouble if you do that.” He looked at them with bloodshot eyes.
“PAAAARRRIII…….Where the hell are you?” Illango screamed, moving towards Paari’s shed. The three took to their heels and scuttled out of the mansion.
Arul suggested they escape. “Lakshmi Amma’s son doesn’t know us and will be unable to trace us. Let us go home.” However, Perumal spoke wisely. He was a kind-hearted boy. “Looks like Lakshmi Amma is unwell, and her son has entrusted us with calling the Vaidhiyar. Let us do that. More over Lakshmi Amma’s son has threatened us with dire consequences if we do not summon the Vaidhiyar.”
Arul suggested again that they could run away to their respective houses after informing the Vaidhiyar. “Forget the papayas,” he snorted.
“Didn’t you hear what Lakshmi Amma’s son said? He may ask the Vaidhiyar our whereabouts and will trace us. Let us comply as he demanded.” Rasha said, shaking his head, trying to erase from his vision the scene of being dragged by the police. His mother’s nonplussed and embarrassed face surfaced before his eyes, bringing tears.
After a short debate, the three boys decided to do just as Illango had instructed them.
When the boys reached the mansion with the Vaidhiyar, Illango was still at the gate shouting at Paari. Next to him stood Pandian’s father. Paari and Pandian’s father could barely stand under the influence of the cheap alcohol they reeked of.
No sooner than he saw the Vaidhiyar, Illango ushered him inside. “Amma is having severe chest pain and stomach ache. We were on a road trip to Tirupati but returned due to Amma’s condition.”
He turned towards the boys. “Amma is not well, so I am in no mood to confront you thieves. You brats can go. Take the papayas that you fell from the tree. I don’t want to see you here ever.” Illango spoke in his obnoxious accent again and went inside with the Vaidhiyar.
There were five papayas fallen. Arul took two, one for himself and one for Pandian. He knew Pandian had not cheated them but must have run on seeing Lakshmi Amma’s vehicle. Perumal and Rasha took one each. They all had always yearned for one whole papaya. They left one papaya on the ground.
The three boys saw Pandian’s father on the street, struggling to even walk. “Give this to Pandian,” Arul said, handing over one papaya. “Ugh?’ Pandian’s father blabbered, not comprehending what Arul said. “Give this papaya to Pandian,” the three boys echoed together. Pandian’s father nodded, accepting the papaya.
It had taken more time than Rasha had expected. He entered his hut, worried his mother had woken up by chance to answer nature’s call and panicked upon not finding him, but was relieved to see her fast asleep. Rasha decided to hide the papaya and have it after his mother left for work the following day.
Hiding the papaya underneath a pile of mud behind his hut, Rasha slept.
Loud noises and commotion outside his hut woke Rasha from his slumber early in the morning. He could hear his mother weep.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind. Rasha concluded that his mother had come to know about his attempt to steal the papaya from the mansion garden. He exited the hut with heavy steps to find a small crowd discussing something. No one paid much attention to Rasha, giving him a respite. The commotion was not what he had assumed it to be. The truth dawned on him in a few seconds. Lakshmi Amma had passed away last night. Some ladies spoke about the plan of Lakshmi Amma’s children to leave in a couple of days.
A silly question popped up in Rasha’s mind. ‘What will happen to the papayas now? Will they take it with them or leave them on the tree?’
He heard some women say that Lakshmi Amma’s children had no affinity for this village and that they would sell the mansion soon.
While his thoughts revolved around the papaya tree, his mother’s wails jolted Rasha from the reverie.
“I was expecting to get some amount working in the mansion for these two months,” Akhila sobbed. “My poor child has been asking for a papaya. Lakshmi Amma would never offer a full papaya that he yearned for. I had decided to accumulate as much money as possible even if that meant cutting on one of my daily meals to buy the fruit for him.”
Some ladies tried to console her, saying she could find work elsewhere.
Rasha’s little heart melted when he heard his mother speak thus and snivel. He felt ashamed of himself for indulging in futile thoughts about the papayas on the tree.
Suddenly, Rasha’s appetite for papaya vanished. His impoverished state stuck him hard like molten lava. Was eating a papaya so important now? Was the whole upheaval in acquiring a papaya indispensable? It was as if Rasha had matured manifold in a few minutes. It was hardly a month after he had lost his father, and his poor mother had found some respite after getting a job in the mansion, and he had been such a fool to have pestered her for a papaya.
He sat by his mother and wiped her tears. “I do not want to eat papaya, Amma,” he said, clinging to her. Akhila hugged him, and the two wept, unsure of what they were lamenting. Was it the death of Lakshmi Amma, the despondency of having lost a job, or being miserably let down by destiny again?
The papaya Rasha hid behind the hut, rotted underneath the mud.
Will it bloom into a full-fledged tree someday?
Glossary
Pakoras—————-A fried food item made with onion and gram flour mixed with water
Amma——————Mother
Maama—————-A term for uncle in general.
Akka——————–A term to address a lady elder to one.
Beedi——————-A type of cigarette.
Anna——————–A term used to address an older male.
Tirupati—————–A place in Andhra Pradesh, India famous for Temple of Lord Balaji.
Vaidhiyar————–A person practising medicine
Author’s Note: Idaikal is a village in Tirunelveli district Tamil Nadu state, India.
The author has used the name of this village without any particular intention. The characters and places mentioned in the story are fictional, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intentional.
This Story has been published in Kitaab international