Beach Side Stories - 1

‘Amma’, he said waking her up. ‘It is 5:30 already. Wake up. Make some tea.’ She opened her eyes to see her husband’s face as she had done ever since they were married. She would chant a little prayer for her husband’s long and able life. Habit made him make his bed; and hers too, immediately after she got up to make tea for both. After 35 years of marriage, having lived every single day in the same fashion made life a habit for them. Each morning she would be woken up by him at 5:30; not precisely though. The first glimpse of a sun ray was 5:30 for them. She, almost mechanised, went to the kitchen and kept the milk on the stove before going to the bath outside from the back door in the kitchen.

‘Aren’t you supposed to go to the doctor today? He had asked you to be there by 9 a.m., so you could beat the rush. Such a good man, Ramanathan is; we must get him something this Deepavali. After all, there aren’t many doctors who would treat at such discounted rates’, she said vanishing into the bath.

He made ready his morning dose of medicines, herbs and one tablet that the doctor had recently got him from the city – for ailments ranging from the heart, blood pressure to diabetes. Since yesterday, the tablets had started leaving him in a delirious state of mind. She even feared that he was having hallucinations. He would keep staring into blank space in the afternoons for long and would flatly refuse when she would ask him what he was thinking. ‘Nothing amma’, he would reply. ‘Where was I thinking; what would I think anyway! I was only reading’, he would say pointing to the manuscript he had, though she would have noticed him quite obviously staring into space.

She had spoke to the doctor last evening without his knowledge, and informed the doctor about this new development. He heard her through, as a good medic would. Initially, Ramanathan ruled it away saying that it was a common old age syndrome, and that she needn’t be bothered. But, when he heard her voice a bit shaky and with a slight hint of panic, he asked her to send him to the clinic the very next day. ‘Let him be here by 9 in the morning; that is when I would be absolutely free. Else, people queue up till evening. I want to spend some time to see what it is’ he said, which gave her some assurance.

‘Ramanathan said everything is fine. The tablet that he gave me is a bit troublesome. That is all. Just need to walk a little more. I have to take only for a week more, he said. So, it would be alright then. Don’t you think we should both go for walks together?’ he surprised her, in a rather rare flirtatious tone.
She blushed; a bit. ‘Sure we could, if only your friend would spare you some time!’

Koppaliyar and Mr. Iyer had been long walking partners. This Mr. Iyer was the only person to talk to this guy from the lower caste. The village loathed him for that, but Koppaliar was too handy to get rid of. They gave in to Mr. Iyer, accepted his behaviour and respected him for all his knowledge and devotion to God. They would set off at 4 am every morning – on the dot – for the past 44 years. However, since Koppaliyar moved to Vellathoor recently, to a new place about 2 miles further away from the beach, it had become 4:30 for Mr. Iyer daily. This meant shorter walks for him, as he would be back by 5:30 to wake his wife up. ‘Amma,’ he would say waking her up ‘wake up and make some tea.’ There were days when Koppaliyar would join them for the morning tea, but those were rare occasions, when Mrs. Iyer would insist or Iyer and Koppaliyar would be engrossed in an argument.

‘Hey! That is a morning affair. We have the whole of evening.’ He said holding his cup of tea up in the air, ‘I hereby dedicate all my evenings for the rest of my life to my dearest’ making it a surprising second attempt at flirting –something he had done never before in his life. She blushed a bit more and shied away.

‘Isn’t the breeze lovely?’ he asked.

‘Hmm... I like the sound of the waves more. It gives me immense calm to listen to them. Close my eyes and listen to them – I can do it for hours’, she said enacting it.

Just when he tried to close his eyes to check that out, she continued ‘The beach is an amazing place. It reflects your mood. The waters – they seem to be happy when you are happy. Angry when you are filled with anger. And sad when you are down. I haven’t told this to you before, but I have spent a lot of time by myself in the beach when you would be off to work. I even got a couple of friends around here.’

‘Boyfriends?’ he teased.

‘Please... what is wrong with you?’ she seemed to be hurt. ‘I used to miss you a lot when you were away. I would sit by this beach, and the waters would soothe me saying you would be back soon. And before long, it would be time for me to go home.’ Deftly changing the topic, ‘What else did Ramanathan say?’ she asked. ‘Did he mention anything about side effects of the tablets?’ She found him staring emptily into space – beyond the waters.

‘Amma...wake up. It is 5:30 already. Make some tea. Koppaliyar is here.’ She woke up with a start though saying the silent prayer hurriedly for her husband’s long life. A guest was at home and she was not even presentable. Oh! How she detested that. ‘Give me 5 minutes, ayya Koppaliyar’ she shouted and rushed to the kitchen from her room without even looking up and making sure that Koppaliyar wouldn’t notice her. She almost spilt the milk in a hurry to keep it on the stove.

‘I will make it, you go get ready. A spoon each of sugar and tea, right?’ he asked in confirmation. She ‘yes yes’-ed him and rushed to the bath. She hurriedly got ready, simply tied her hair into a nice little roll and entered the room asking, ‘How was the tea, don’t blame me, it was ...’ Koppaliyar was gone. Mr. Iyer just placed his cup of tea and was just about to enter the staring phase when she called out to him.

‘Are you listening? Why did Koppaliyar leave? You two fought?’ she asked clearly concerned over the guest walk off. ‘Oh no! We didn’t fight or anything.’ Said he snapping back just in time. ‘Make some tea for yourself. I didn’t make it for you – One, because it would get cold. And two, I didn’t want to punish you early morning!’

She made tea and came to where he was sitting. ‘So, what did Koppaliyar say? I am going to ask him when I meet him; he found some time today after nearly a month and he couldn’t wait for 10 minutes? I am surely going to ask him why.’

‘Hey. You are taking it too seriously, he was meaning to meet you, but you took forever getting ready. So, he drank his tea – waited for some time and left.’
‘I didn’t take any longer than usual. Just that I had oiled my hair last night – so it took a couple of minutes to wash it. Still I rushed through. I wore the first sari I could lay my hands on. See, I haven’t even dried my hair properly’, she said sipping the last drops of tea. ‘In fact, by all measures I was early today than...’ as she said this she realized that he wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling. She shuddered. Whatever is happening to him, God please bring him back to normal, she prayed to herself. She got up, took his cup and then Koppaliyar’s. At once, she dropped them all.

Koppaliyar’s glass was full. He hadn’t drunk the tea. He hadn’t even touched the glass. In fact, Koppaliyar hadn’t come home with Iyer this morning.

The sound of the dropped vessels brought Mr. Iyer back to consciousness. He saw the spilt tea, muttered a sorry as if he had dropped it and went about cleaning the place as she stood frozen to the ground.

Later that morning, she went to Ramanathan and told this little story. It had Ramanathan worried. ‘Amma – we might have to take him to the hospital in the city tomorrow. I will arrange for the cart, Nachiappan would surely lend his cart.’ Thus assured, she came back home to find him sitting silently staring at the ceiling. The evening walk that day was unnervingly silent. He didn’t talk much and was nodding profusely to whatever she was saying - a clear indication of him not listening. She prodded him back home a lot early that evening.

‘Amma, wake up. It is 5:30 already. Make some tea.’ She woke up with her eyes red. She muttered the prayer a bit longer than usual. She hadn’t had a proper sleep. Her mind was troubled with all kinds of thought. She hadn’t told him yet about their planned trip to the hospital and knew very well that he wouldn’t come if so told. Ramanathan had suggested that they would tell that it was a check up for her, and that she had some pain in the right shoulder.

‘Koppaliyar was asking for you today. He said he would come home tomorrow and meet you surely. Such a nice man, this Koppaliyar is.’ He sat down on the parapet at the very entrance. She quickly got ready and left for the doctor’s place under the guile of going to the temple. ‘Go inside and close the doors...’ she said to the man staring at the ceiling.

‘Sorry amma – Nachiappan has gone to Vellathoor today and is not going to come back until 4-5 days. I have spoken to Chellappa. He can get his brother-in-law’s cart tomorrow morning’ Ramanathan said clearly concerned that the visit had to be delayed. There wasn’t much they could do now.

When she came back to the house, Iyer was nowhere to be seen. She held back her panic. She went in and sat inside the prayer room – praying, fighting back tears, for her husband’s well being. ‘Amma’ he called. She almost ran towards the voice only to see him standing with some vegetables wrapped in banana leaves. ‘Koppaliyar had come here; he has some work with the village head. I asked him to stay for lunch, so you could meet him too. It is fine with you, right?’

‘Of course! Of course!’ she said wiping the tears which found their way out in joy. She hurried to him and said, ‘Why did you trouble yourself, I would have gone again’ taking the vegetables from him.

‘A little walk would do no harm. Besides, Koppaliyar was going the same way. So good company too.’

‘What shall I make for you? Would avial be fine?’

A funeral procession passed on the road just then. The conches were blown in vigour and drums slung around shoulders beaten as if in celebration. Kids danced along, as the procession moved in its own slow pace. The cremation grounds were by the beach. She rushed to the door to close it. It wasn’t considered good omen to keep the doors open.

‘What does Koppaliyar like? I do not even remember the last time he had come home for lunch! Must be years before. Was it not after Janaki got married?’ Janaki was Koppaliyar’s only daughter and indeed it was about 13 years since Koppaliyar had come for lunch. The Iyers had made sure the wedding was a grand one. For she couldn’t bear a child; they cared for Janaki as they would for their own child. The Iyers were so happy that day, they treated the Koppaliyars for lunch. ‘Yes, indeed. Thirteen years isn’t it?’ she asked. There was no reply from Iyer. ‘Are you listening? Ayya? Where are you?’ No reply.

She came out of the kitchen and checked. He wasn’t there. She opened the door and saw Ramanathan pass by hurriedly. ‘Ramanathan, did you see Ayya?’ she called out loud. ‘Ramanathan...’ he heard her call the second time. He came rushing and seemed worried. ‘Did you not hear? Mr. Koppaliyar is no more. They found his body late last night by the shore. It seems he wasn’t to be seen for the past four days. His body was washed ashore in the nearby village and they brought it over to Vellathoor late last night. His wife Kannamma lost consciousness. I am going to attend to her.’

She had heard every word coming out of his mouth. The words echoed in a surreal manner. She could feel her head spin and she lost balance. Ramanathan guided her inside, made her sit and gave her some water. ‘Koppaliyar, he has been missing for the last three days, is it?’ she asked.

‘Four.’ He corrected her and left to attend Kannamma.

She sat still. She fell on the floor, semi conscious. ‘Amma’ she heard her husband call out. Her heart started beating doubly fast. ‘Look. Look who is here for lunch’, he said entering the room. ‘Koppaliyar, this lady is mad at you because you did not wait longer the other morning. Now, you better apologise, else...’ There was no one beside him. Or anywhere else in the room. ‘Ayya...’ she said in a begging tone. ‘Please come here and sit.’ She held back her tears. Her heart was heavy. Her husband had lost all sanity. He was talking as if Koppaliyar were there in flesh and blood.

He sat down in the only chair. ‘Go, get water for us.’ She obeyed. She did not know what else to do. It was a habit now. The first cup of water she gave him, he passed it on to Koppaliyar. The cup fell down and broke. Water spilt around the place. Some drops splashed on to his legs. He was completely oblivious to that. He spoke as if Koppaliyar was right there. She grew white. Fear was building up. Her heart was now beating audibly loud. Her legs were shaking. Not even nine yards of sari could hide them. Of course, her husband noticed none of these. She even laid two banana leaves for them and served them both. Mr. Iyer had a sumptuous meal while the other leaf was left as served.

She did not clean up that day. She could not. She wanted to rest; to sleep and never get up. She could simply not bear to see him this way. She prayed all afternoon. She cried all afternoon. Mr. Iyer slept through all. They went for their walk that evening.

‘Nice breeze, eh?’ she asked. ‘Quite a few people here too. I will introduce you to my friends if I see them around. They would be elated to see me, after so many years, if they still come here that is.’ Mr. Iyer was silent. Not a sound from him. That is till he saw Koppaliyar. They stayed late after dark. Iyer spoke a lot to Koppaliyar. He spoke a lot about Koppaliyar. A lot about the time they spent all these years. He would prod Koppaliyar to speak, obviously to no avail. He told his wife all about them. She had never heard him speak so much. They walked up to the waters. He took both her hands in his; pressed them against his forehead and cried. They walked back. Both got no sleep that night. They spent it in troubled thoughts.

The next morning, Mr. Iyer took his wife to the beach for their walk. He told her about how he saw Koppaliyar walking into the waters as he stood shouting. He told her how he stood helpless and cowardly. He told her that Janaki was his daughter. Kannamma and Iyer’s daughter. And that Koppaliyar could not stand the truth. ‘He died because of me’ he said in a stoic manner. ‘I killed him’ he said wiping a tear. ‘Amma, go home. I am alright. I want to stay alone for a bit. I will come in some time, you go home.’

She obeyed. He never came back. She never searched for him. She did not cry. She wasn’t angry. She went about as if it was daily. She slept early that night; long and tight.

‘Amma, wake up. It is 5:30 already. Make some tea.’ She opened her eyes to find no one there. She did not pray.

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