Showing posts with label The voice of the rain solitude Part 4. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The voice of the rain solitude Part 4. Show all posts

Thursday, 29 October 2026

THE VOICE OF THE RAIN, SOLITUDE (Ba. Venkatesan) Part 4 P. 34-38

 

Original : “Mazhaiyin kural thanimai”, a short novel written by Ba. Venkatesan.

Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam.

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Part 4 (34 – 38)

He said that the child was found a hundred feet away from the bungalow he was trying to erect in the Basavanna’s land, lying on the ground under the rain with no one to care, and since there had been no human movement for a very long time, as long as his eyes and his mind could reach, he was unable to ascertain who its mother was. Pillai’s wife understood at the very moment she saw the baby that it had been drenched in the rain for a long time. Even though she wasn’t in the mood and had no luxury of time to appreciate it with a closer look, her mind didn’t fail to notice the baby, a second, shining with an inexplicable beauty. Pillai was in a hurry to go back. ‘The baby would never be able to stay alive after it drank that amount of water. But as he was unable to bear the wretchedness of seeing such a beautiful creation being buried alone in the ground like an orphan without falling into the eyes of villagers, he had brought it to her, he said. Sooner the baby died, they decided to bury it with full ritualistic honours in the presence of villagers under the guardianship of the woman. Despite her repeated pleas, Pillai remained stubborn about going back. He grew so restless that the schemes of Basavanna might take advantage of rain to further their motives. But at the same time, he remained unaware that the same rain had been making him weaker without his knowledge. Drenched in the rain again, when he stepped out of the house, his wife was left with nothing other than bemoaning her destiny. As the very thought that her husband came to meet his family out of his sheer selfishness, not out of his love for her, was bitter for her, she slapped the door behind the baby’s back and shut it. The ferocity of the rain in her husband’s presence intimidated her. Her fear was completely justified, though. The government records held that the Paramakal area received such rain for the first time in a hundred years. Even the books that speak about that rain always express their astonishment about the place that hadn’t been drowned in the deluge even after such heavy rain. The fierceness of the river Cauvery that ran encircling the villages in length and breadth threw those villages sitting interior of the landscape like dice in a gamble. The astrologers said that the sun, moon, and other celestial gods would have a tough time having no space to move around for at least one year. There had been an incessant torrential downpour for three days. The hailstones falling like glass pellets hit and damaged the roofs. At the same time, the deluge of floodwater flowing below was eroding the foundations. The buildings were swaying like the dolls in a puppet show. Even in the heavy rain, the wind remained still, not gaining speed beyond what was required for breathing. The thunder and lightning destined to recede in the course of movement were staying up, hanging heavily at the place they had originated due to the absence of a wind direction to move ahead. Some areas located in high grounds, like Hosur, could escape the fury of the flood. But the severity of the rain remained stronger there. The dead bodies of cattle were floating in the flood in Rayakottai, Denkanikottai, and Soolagiri, which were sitting on the foothills. The reek, darkness, and winter had changed the faces of villages completely. The wealth kept buried by greedy men, misers, and thieves was taken away in the current without anyone to claim it. The waterfalls in Hogenekkal, Krishnagiri, and Muthialmadu were not found, as they had been drowned in the flood that ran up to the top of the hills. No one had seen anyone. No one spoke to anyone. No one had come out of their houses for anything. The very first drop of the rain that continued for three days had made the time frozen at that moment. Paramasivam Pillai’s wife, who shut the door by slapping it behind his back, opened the door when she heard the sound of doors of other houses being opened at dawn on the fourth day in Kelamangalam. The sun that was very eagerly awaited did come out finally. Pillai was found lying unconscious at the doorway. She understood instantly that the rain had attacked him severely and he had fallen, being unable to move at the very moment she shut the door. Struggling to control the agony that tore off her throat, she scooped him up and brought him to the bed with the help of neighbours. His body was burning with a high temperature. The treatment went on continuously. She spent her time administering him medicines she prepared and crying during the rest of the time. After a severe toxic fever that lasted for a week, Pillai opened his eyes. As soon as he opened his eyes, he glanced at the baby in his wife’s hands and asked her whose beautiful child it was. The rain had wiped out all - Jamindar’s palace of love, the plot of Basavanna, his days in the jungle, and the baby he had brought, claiming to have found it out in the mud - in one stroke from his memory. He had thus become Paramasivam Pillai, who lived seven years ago. The woman said that she had brought the baby, saving it from being buried in mud in order to rear it. Though his heart had completely forgotten those seven years, his body strongly carried the memory of rain. After this rain, he never ventured out of his house for twenty-two years. His enforced seclusion didn’t affect the financial condition of his family. The wealth he had already accumulated and the contracts he had executed were just enough for his wife to run the family without any hassles. In addition to this, the amount from Jamindar had also been coming till his death. That woman could manage the family efficiently with that amount till her death. At one post midnight in the fourth month since Jamindar’s death, she went to the backyard of the house and fell into the well accidentally with her hands first when she tried to take out some water, thinking that it was a water tank she had been familiar with for many years, and then with her body that lost its balance while bending in the air. Only her dead body could be retrieved the next day. The shock of his wife’s death had made Pillai fall bedridden and languish with diseases. His ailing body didn’t even allow him to come out of his room to attend his wife’s funeral. It was the boy whom Pillai had found in the mud who did all the familial responsibilities in his place. Pillai’s life cycle also started rolling fast as if he were waiting for his wife’s death. The events that followed were indeed swift. His daughter was married off and sent to her in-laws’ house within a year of his wife’s death. Pillai wanted his children to learn his hereditary profession of architecture and continue his legacy. But his own two children were not interested in it. They pleaded with their father to arrange a different life. The elder one joined as a forest ranger in the Rayakottai forest region with Pillai’s influence. Pillai didn’t see him after he was transferred to the Punalur forest region from the corner of Southern Tamil Nadu. He married a Brahmin woman and, after some years, was attracted to a dreadful underground organization that had been popular in the Nellai region, became a nationalist, and was finally killed in a shootout in a violence erupted in Tuticorin. Pillai wasn’t overtly shocked at the news of his death. For him, he had already been dead for many years. His second son was well-mannered. He received some amount from his father and went to Salem. During his visits to meet his father and younger brother, he used to say that he owned a business there and had his decent living. The gifts he would bring for them had made them believe it true. Those who went to Salem expressed their angst to the adopted son, carefully avoiding it falling into Pillai’s ears, that the elder one had some amorous relationships with prostitutes. That boy just spent his youth recklessly without getting married till his last. So, the only son who remained with him was the same boy whom Pillai had found in the mud and named Sarangan. He happily agreed to learn the hereditary profession from Pillai. It was he who had built the rain house. One day in his twenty-two years, he got his father up from the bed, brought him outside to see the world which he had almost forgotten for years. It rained that day as if being aware of it. On seeing the house built by Saranagan, Pillai realised that the fear, worry, and diseases that he had been thinking of tormenting him were, in fact, illusions, not real. Many a truth seemed to have been unfolded to him. The peace, clarity, composure, and youth that left him years ago had now come to him again. After that, he had never lost them.

***To be continued***