Showing posts with label The milk of wisdom (ஞானப்பால்) Na. Pichamurthy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The milk of wisdom (ஞானப்பால்) Na. Pichamurthy. Show all posts

Thursday, 29 October 2026

The milk of wisdom (ஞானப்பால்) Na. Pichamurthy

 

This is an English translation of “Gnanapal”, a short story written by Na. Pichamurthy. Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam.

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It had been one year since Lingamkatti came to that almshouse. Thavasipillai thought that Lingamkatti’s arrival was indeed a mark of his luck. His heart was brimming with the pride that he had always been a lucky chap. ‘Would anyone, who is dark like charcoal, and doesn’t even know the basic alphabets be lucky enough like this to get a wage of fifteen rupees with food, and an authority to feed six members? One would think of his misfortunes only if he had children, and thus, can find faults with Muthaliyar, the owner of the almshouse, for every problem. But Thavasipillai was lucky as he was still a bachelor. As luck would have it, he got that job so that he could remain ‘grateful’ to Muthaliyar in the first place. Apart from this, he had a lot of opportunities to be grateful. He understood it as the days passed. It was his responsibility to buy the groceries and vegetables for the almshouse. Wasn’t it? He was honest during the earlier days. Can anyone collect honey with his hands covered? Or can he ever avoid licking the honey sticking to his hand? What could he have done when those squishy brinjals, the weighing units, the oil bowls with corks, the vegetable woman and the grocery shop owner Manikkam Chettiyar taught him how not to be honest? So, they had plenty of excuses in them so that he could remain grateful to his master.

Thavasipillai was the dictator of the almshouse. So, there was no law, nor any procedures. Checking the teeth of a cow that was received as charity one should always avoid. Right? One day, Thavasipaillai dismissed a person who was working there. Poor chap! Thavasipillai alone was not responsible for that. If luck sat on his neck and ordered, he had to do it anyway. Didn’t he?

One day, Lingamkatti came there from somewhere. Thavasipillai didn’t ask the visitor any questions. His days in the almshouse had made him so experienced that he could develop an ‘X-Ray’ eye. Yet, he could assess Lingamkatti even without the assistance of his X-ray eye.

Fully shaven head, a silver locket with a lingam around his neck, and a dhoti that turned brown – four cubit long and twenty-four inches broad- on his waist.

Lingamkatti was just stroking the baldness on his head, but didn’t say anything. But Thavasipillai replied, “You can have the meal after the cooking is over. Where do you come from and where do you go?” he asked.

“The vagabond has no hometown, no name, no place for succour. He will find heaven where he gets to eat something. If I get a handful of rice here every day, this will be the place of my salvation. I can live by doing some errands.”

Thavasipaillai was serious about his proposal. ‘This bloke seems strong enough to bear the loads. He can withstand any tough tasks. I am unable to wrestle with the dishwasher, Kathan, every single day. He complains that the wage of five rupees and the leftover foodstuffs to eat are not enough for him. His complaints have no end- if you give him rice, he will ask for curry. If you give him curry, he will ask for vegetables. If you give him rice, curry and vegetables, he complains that it is less. What if I can get rid of him forever…Here is a man who can take the loads of work for a handful of rice! I can save five rupees.’

The next day, Kathan was summarily dismissed without assigning any reason. Lingamkatti wasn’t even aware that he had been offered that post. Now, he didn’t have to roam around from place to place for food. Just an hour of washing the utensils would be enough to bring him luck for the day. Even the saint Thirunavukarasar had a sling-blade for cutting the grass. Hadn’t he? Lingamkatti was extremely happy that luck had finally hit him. Thavasipillai also thought that luck had finally found him.

Everything went well in the beginning. Wouldn’t a man’s heart jump in joy if he got three handfuls for two times against the one handful he initially asked for? The utensils shone without any trace of soot. Wasn’t it sheer luck if one could get a person who never complained about anything? He remembered Kathan’s impudence- “Is the job in the almshouse that coveted or what? Kathan is not a coolie to carry the stuff of sorts,” – ‘what an insolence,’ he thought.

While seeing Lingamkatti lying on the veranda after his daily meals, Thavasipillai, who had been greatly relieved of Kathan, heaved a sigh of relief and peacefully went to bed. The matter didn’t end there. No visitor who came to the almshouse would leave without praising Lingamkatti.

“What a good man he is! Very pious! He would never miss a day and time to brush his teeth, wash his clothes, bathe in the holy pond and pray to the Sun standing toward the east with a band of Vibhuti on his forehead – Isn’t it just enough? It is extremely rare to find a man like this,” they would wonder.

It was true that Lingamkatti would never ignore such diurnal ceremonies. He would never trouble himself with studying anything beyond that, either. Sometimes, if someone said that it was Lord Shiva who controlled everything, he might intervene amidst the talk that it was because of one’s previous karma. If asked whether he believed it, he wouldn’t know what to say. When Lingamkatti became a vagabond with a white dhoti, he didn’t become so after gaining mastery in religious matters. He was given a lingam to wear around his neck, taught what to do next and driven out with an assurance that he would face no problem as long as lord Shiva (Pasupathi) and the vast world existed and directed to go towards the east. From that day, other than what he was directed to do, he had never attempted anything to link his actions with the mind. He had never been seriously interested in finding the path of salvation through assimilating both.

So, if any visitor coming to the almshouse gave him two anas or four anas, he wouldn’t refuse it. It never occurred to him that he had to refuse their help. Instead of that, he would ask them to give him a new coin if he ever needed some change and tie it tightly on his waist.

Within eight or nine months, the ‘new broom’ began losing its shine. No one could find anything wrong with Lingamkatti. But Thavasiapillai was a crooked fellow! As the days passed, food on Lingamkatti’s plate had one handful less first, and then two handfuls. Some days, he wouldn’t get either vegetables or curry. Lingamkatti would comfort himself that the visitors must have eaten more than usual.

Though he didn’t complain, his hungry stomach failed him. He somehow managed a couple of days without complaining. ‘As a noble soul, he had given me alms. Does it matter if I get a handful less than usual?’ he comforted himself for a couple of days. But he couldn’t sustain beyond that. On the third day, after the meals at the almshouse, he made it a habit to visit the funeral, marriage, and Maheswara Puja unfailingly just to eat there. Even if heard someone offering horse gram gruel, he would go there at least to have a taste of it. Sometimes, he would get one or two anas there.

Sooner Thavasipaillai came to know that Lingamkatti was earning some money, he began trying his stingy hands while giving him food. Would any vagabond be offered a royal feast in the almshouse? Lingamkatti would accept Thavasipillai’s excuses whenever the latter told him that the shortage of food was common during auspicious occasions. Thavasipillai advised him, “You can eat in the hotel, if you like, Samy”

Thavasipillai could somehow infer that Lingamkatti had a lot of money. He devised a mischievous plan to empty it.

It would have been an interesting question: what would have happened if Lingamkatti had decided to keep the money with Thavasipillai? The answer would be simple. He would have no such fancy idea at all. The tricky part of it was that he certainly couldn’t afford to keep a cat to guard the milk.

Probably out of his blind wit, Lingamkatti had saved all his money with an old lady, a local moneylender. She had enjoyed a reputation in the area that she would never fail anyone, even if God did. Thavasipillai was unaware of this secret. He was giving Lingamkatti food, though it was not sufficient to fill his half-tummy, and made him work the whole day while he was decrying Lingamkatti as a thief.

Thavasipillai had a plan.

“Lingamkatti, I guess you don’t have a wife”

“Vagabonds don’t have wives”

“If then, any affair with anyone?”

“What! Let the tongue rot”

“Don’t be angry. What are you doing with your money?”

“It is safe”

“As long as you live, it is yours. If you die, it becomes useless. You don’t have a wife, no children. Leave it aside. You won’t even buy karapoondhi for a quarter of an ana. Is there any use in keeping it safe?

Lingamkatti was seriously confused after hearing those words. ‘He is right. What am I going to do with that money?’

“Should I throw it away?”

“I don’t mean it. Let me suggest one good thing to do. Think about it”

“Oooh”

“You have this lingam in your neck. Right?”

“Yes”

“I see you hang it around your neck with a thread. You can buy some gold with your money, make a chain and fix it with the lingam. It will look presentable on your neck. Lingam will also be pleasant to look. With Vibhoothi, and a gold chain dangling around the neck, anyone seeing you praying to the sun in the east, will definitely praise you for being the original devotee of lord Shiva. Won’t it look good?”

“Why would I even need a chain for my neck?”

“The chain is not for your neck. I am telling you to make a chain for the lingam. You can’t wear the lingam fixed in a chain on your waist. Can you?”

“No…No”

“If so, you have to wear it on your neck.”

“Let me see if I can make one.” Lingamkatti cut short the conversation. Thavasipillai didn’t pester him further.

Like the coconut seed that wouldn’t sprout fast and take its time, the ‘coconut seed’ planted in Lingamkatti’s mind also began sprouting slowly. ‘The old woman is good. But she is already old. Time and luck will never be the same all the time. I don’t know anything about her. What Thavasipillai says is also a good idea. The lingam will look beautiful if it is attached to a gold chain,’ Lingamkatti pondered it over deeply.

One more year went by as he remained still indecisive. Lingamkatti, who was growing frail like a fold of tobacco, had now become a ripe cucumber.

One day, he went to the goldsmith, and asked him how much gold was needed to make a chain. The goldsmith couldn’t control his laughter and teasingly asked, “Are you going to marry at this age?”

“No…it is for this lingam.”, he pointed to the lingam. On seeing it, the goldsmith changed his words to a professional mode.

“I can make it with three fourths of a sovereign of gold”

“Is it possible less than that? How much is the making charge?”

“Fifteen rupees. This concession is only for you”

“What the heck! For the three fourth of one sovereign?

“It is how it is. Making charge is more for a small chain, less for a big chain. Why don’t you make a big chain for the lingam?”

“Please keep the making charge affordable. I will be back with the gold.”, Lingamkatti left.

Fifteen days later, Lingamkatti returned to the almshouse with the lingam attached to the gold chain hanging around his neck, obviously after bathing in the holy pond.

Thavasipillai, sitting on the veranda, was busy with doing some petty transaction. He found Lingamkatti carrying an eccentric aura. He couldn’t understand exactly what it was. Seconds later, his face brightened up, and then he said “Gudos! Gudos! You did it in secrecy. Right?”

“It is not a big task anyway. I just did it as it is loved by the god”

“Good job…Good job.” Thavasipaillai said. ‘Instead of keeping his money without anyone’s notice, this chap has done something which might voluntarily invite the thieves, he thought. His face was even clouded with the guilt of giving him this suggestion.

Lingamkatti’s attitude found no change just because he had become a ‘Gold-chain-Lingamkatti’. He attended to the daily chores at the almshouse as usual. Thavasipillai, who evinced some guilt, also didn’t change. There had been no upward change in the amount of food he gave to Lingamkatti.

It might be four months or so after that. Suddenly Lingamkatti had something in mind – He wanted to attend to the Thirumulaippal (Receiving holy milk) ceremony. “I will be back in a week,” he said to Thavasipillai.

“One must be blessed for that. Go attend it”

“What about the utensils that need to be washed?”

“I will get someone to do that”

The next day, Lingamkatti left for Sirkazhi. Thavasipillai was worried that he had to spend a week without Lingamkatti. He went to bed as he started counting the day one. Every single day grew lengthy like a pasty toffee.

On the fourth day, Thavasipillai was chopping the vegetables. Lingamkatti appeared before him, unexpectedly. Thavasipillai even thought for a second that it must be a dream.

“What! Is it Lingamkatti?”

“Who is it then?”

“You are too early. Aren’t you?” Thavasipillai looked at him from top to bottom. Lingamkatti’s neck looked barren like that of a widow.

“Hey, Pandaram, I see neither lingam nor gold chain in your neck. Where are they?”

“Yes. I lost it.”

“Where?”

“I was deceived”

“How did it happen?”

“Because of that milk of wisdom”

“Be clear what you say so that I can get you”

“After attending the festival, the day before yesterday, I was sitting at the Chathiram’s doorway at night. Many people were lying there with their heads and legs spread chaotically like disposed banana peels. Two men were loudly chattering on the veranda about some mundane things like marriage, cattle and love. Among them, a man began singing. A while later, the chatter waned, and he started singing songs. His voice was as sweet as a cuckoo. I fell asleep as I was still leaning against the wall.

“O! Lady with studs!

There is mango milk…

Why do people at the hilltop

Need coconut milk?”

He sang one more song. I was completely spellbound. After that, no song fell into my ears.

“Once I was awake, I opened my eyes and looked around. It was dawning in the east. The festival fatigue and those songs made me lose my senses. A sudden shock woke me up when I was under the impression of deep sleep. My neck felt lighter. I stroked around my neck. No lingam. No chain. Someone had stolen it when I was sleeping. I looked around, saw everyone sleeping on the chathiram’s veranda. They didn’t look like thieves. The men on the veranda enquired me what I was looking for. I explained everything to them. They fell into laughter. The god must have stolen it, as it needed to be given milk of wisdom, they mocked. Something pricked me very hard. I repented my foolishness for making a stupid gold chain for the lingam, the god himself, and returned home. I got the milk of wisdom”

“Then what next?”

“I am leaving”

“Where?”

“Another long journey”

“Why did you then come here?”

“I wanted to tell you to arrange for another person on wages”

“O! heck! Have you really received the milk of wisdom or what?”

Lingamkatti didn’t reply. He just went down the street as he was casually stroking his bald head.

***Ended***