Lakshmi Saravanakumar
Having forgotten the travails of summer, all the trees on the mountain started blooming, announcing the beginning of the monsoon.
Sometime in the afternoon, Appu recalled that when he was taking the sheep for grazing in the morning, his employer Raasakitnan Keethaari had instructed, “Make sure you bring the sheep back before sunset. I have planned to sell a few of them at the Dindigul marketplace tomorrow.” So he quickly began nudging the sheep back to their barn. To sate the hunger rising from his stomach, his hands instinctively searched for the Aavaram flowers which he had saved in the pockets of his half-pants.
His insatiable hunger least minded the subtle bitterness spreading on his taste buds by chewing these withered flowers. Meanwhile, the loud noise from the bells tingling around the necks of the sheep, reverberated as they were all grazing in the same spot. They had got so used to him that half of them did not even heed his commands.
“Idiots! I’ve been yelling for a while now, yet you keep grazing on just one side like stubborn buffaloes. Wait until I get up and spank you all. Then you’ll know!” he shouted furiously; the lambs just nodded, making unresponsive ‘brrrrrrr’ sounds. Irritated, he picked a nearby lump of soil and threw it, aiming at the centre of the flock. This made them scatter ‘sheepishly’ as if they were afraid of him. They moved downhill and began grazing on the pasture in the valley. Their eyes reflected their relief from the ebbing summer and enthusiasm on seeing the fresh grass.
To enforce his authority on the excited sheep, Appu frequently made sounds like ‘Yeiiiiiii… thrrrrrrrrrr’ which were his voice commands! Appu’s footprints and the loose woollen strands from the sheep were spread throughout the red soil path of the mountain. No matter how far the world advances, these mountains and their villages have always managed to keep the world behind them.
Before shifting his barn to this mountainside, when Raasakitnan Keedhari had grazed his sheep near Chidambaram for a few months, he had told his agent that he was looking for young shepherds. By his agent’s effort, Appu’s Ayya (father) had brought Appu to Raasakitnan Keedhari.
Appu, hailing from a small village located on the road from Cuddalore to Panruti, hadn’t even completed his sixth grade. Also, it had already been two years since Appu’s brother had gone on a three-year contract to Shimoga for working in a poultry farm. Moreover, as there wasn’t any hope of sustenance in their parched lands, people from his village were reluctantly thinking about migrating.
Very soon, each of them could forget the memories of their own village, the whiff of its paddy fields and its humid Munthiri Kaadu (cashew farms)
“I’ll give a salary of fifteen thousand rupees every year. I’ll take care of his food and provide whatever else is needed for him. And every Pongal and Deepavali, I’ll buy him new dresses, and I’ll take care of him. I’ve employed many boys like him before. So you need not worry!” Raasakitnan Keedhari had declared, keen to employ Appu, who seemed quite well-mannered for his age.
The amount promised was a great windfall for Appu’s father, who was also quite relieved since he no longer had to worry about feeding Appu daily. Despite all these factors, his father couldn’t just leave Appu as easily as he had imagined. “Sir, he is still a child. He hadn’t travelled this far before. I’m trusting you solely as I leave him to you. He used to study well. The tough situation at home has left me with no other choice, which is why I’m sending him to work,” he said to Raasakitnan. Reluctant to leave Appu, his father gave him the new slippers just bought at the Cuddalore marketplace and left.
– – –
Appu had never played with a sheep before. Because he could not be sent alone with sheep as he had no clue about minding them. Initially, Raasakitnan accompanied Appu. Though Appu had no interest, he wandered along with his boss. Day by day, he grew more and more disgusted by the excessive stench from the sheep on him, something he had never experienced before. Yet, every day, his boss made him roam with the sheep more and more and quickly trained him for shepherding.
“No matter how far are we, the grazing sheep must stand still to our command when they hear it. And for them to do that, you have to familiarize them with any peculiar sounds.” Head wrapped with a towel as cover from the hot sun, Raasakitnan made a loud voice from the depth of his throat; the sheep, which were grazing far away, stood still at his command. He then turned around, grinned at Appu and taught him to make similar peculiar sounds.
Appu, who was learning shepherding just as children learn how to play, designed his own thorati, and clamped a small aruval and two bells around the thorati’s pointed tip. Once in a while, when needed, he would raise his thorati and shake it vigorously, thus making a peculiar, loud sound by which his flock recognised his supervision in an instant. Since the sheep were his only companions during the solitary days of shepherding, he gradually began considering them as friends. The painful signs of estrangement were visible on his narrowed shrunken face. Because Raasakitnan had seen many children in similar straits, he wasn’t too strict with Appu.
– – –
For casual bystanders, shepherding may appear an easy job. But on the contrary, it requires extraordinary patience and strength. Raasakitnan Keedhari had been wandering with sheep ever since his childhood. He owned a few lands and a house in Ilayaankudi. Yet, his life belonged to the sheep. As he’d been shepherding all his life, he would say, “I can’t spend my life in the same place just sitting and eating! It’s not only just roaming with the sheep! We must ensure that they graze properly. We must be cautious all the time to ensure that they don’t eat any poisonous plants or herbs. Every morning, before taking the sheep from the barn, we must pick their droppings and crush them by hand. If the droppings are damp and mushy, it means the sheep had grazed very well the previous day. This is very important!”
Just as Raasakitnan Keedhari had taught him, Appu checked the sheep every morning before taking them to pasture. Ever since he had left his native place, Appu was keen to learn about the forgotten symbols of his village when he crossed many such places in his path every day. Despite these lands appearing new to him, he realized they had even more memorable histories.
– – –
Meanwhile, the sheep shivered uneasily in the cold as daylight faded and it began to drizzle. The herd hurried towards the barn. From a long distance, it appeared that Raasakitnan was driving his sheep to the barn. Appu, covering his head with a towel, called out to his flock, “Yeeeiii… Ththireeeeee… Run, run!” A few minutes after they reached the plain, Raamu too joined them from the other side with his flock.
“Appu, why were you lagging behind? When you knew that it was going to rain, you could have driven the sheep back to the barn, right?” asked Raamu, who was Raasakitnan’s brother, so Appu addressed him as Chinnaya.
Appu now poked his thorati into the flock and goaded one lamb. As the lamb bounced and ran faster, the rest also rushed along with it, then he replied. “The sheep must graze properly. Am I right, Chinnaya? So I was waiting patiently. Also, you mentioned selling a few sheep tomorrow. Only if they graze properly today will they be active until tomorrow morning, right?”
Raamu, hustling his flock, replied, “I don’t think I could go in the morning in this heavy rain! And that Forest Ranger you came across. Did he ask you anything?”
“No Chinnaya… But I think he had his eyes on one of the lambs. Also, before this, when he came around twice, he said, ‘It’s been a while since I had a delicious lamb. Remind your Keethaari about it!’ ” replied Appu.
Raamu laughed out loud. “What a scoundrel he is! Listen Appu; a hardworking man earns his own food. But scoundrels like him earn their food by just grabbing others’ hard work. Anyway, be cautious around him. Because he’ll try to pull your leg just to grab a lamb from you.”
Chitchatting, they had almost reached the barn. Raasakitnan, who had arrived before them, was moving his flock to his side of the barn. He turned around and lit his torch on hearing the loud noise from the sheep, which Raamu and Appu were pushing into their respective sides of the barn.
“We have the legal permit for sheep grazing. We even have the receipt! Despite all these, why are the forest rangers nagging us for money, Chinnaya?” Appu asked Raamu loudly. Since he was busy moving his flock into the barn, Raamu couldn’t respond.
So Raasakitnan answered with a smirk. “Appu, these things have been going on for a long time. People before us didn’t question it. Now if we ask, by tomorrow we will end up shifting our barn from here to elsewhere.”
“Whatever, Keethaari. It’s we who toil in the sun and rain. But they seem to extract everything from our hard work!” was Raamu’s reply.
In the meantime, Appu was worriedly looking around the barn. Since Raamu and Raasakitnan had finished putting their sheep inside, they were hurrying towards their tents. Raasakitnan, noticing Appu worriedly roaming in the barn, asked, “What’s the matter, Appu?” He couldn’t see Appu’s face clearly due to the rain.
Since Appu was not responding to his question, Raasakitnan called again; this time Appu answered, “A pregnant ewe is missing, Ayya. I saw it before the rain. But I guess it’s lost now!” Before he even finished replying, Raamu and Raasakitnan hurried back to the barn to help Appu in his search.
“Are you sure, Appu?” asked Raasakitnan, now gazing around inside the barn.
“I looked thoroughly!”
Raasakitnan, still inside the barn and looking around, said, “Alright. Let me look for it! Don’t come out in this rain. First, go dry your hair and change your dress!”
Appu stood motionless, without heeding Keedhari’s words and replied, voice trembled with cold, “No Ayya. I guess the mother may have birthed a lamb when we were leaving the mountain. It should be somewhere in the valley. I’ll go look for it.”
Squeezing the utterly wet towel from his head, Raasakitnan approached Appu. “Come on, don’t talk like a mad man. Did you even see this rainstorm? Whatever it is, we’ll take care of it in the morning. You first eat your meal and get some sleep” and dragged Appu towards his tent.
But Appu was not convinced. “Poor thing. She must have lost her way in the pain of childbirth. It’s doubtful if she’ll survive till morning in this rain!” he thought, and stubbornly said, “No Ayya. I will go look for it. I can’t be at peace here, leaving the sheep there!”
Raamu, who was drying Appu’s wet hair, said, “Ok then you stay here. I’ll go find it.”
Appu, taking the towel from Raamu, finished drying his hair and replied, “No, Chinnaya. You may not know the way. Since it is my usual route, I’ll find it in an hour or so. You stay here!”
Appu ran fast to his tent, took a polythene bag and wrapped it on his head over a dry towel, to keep the towel and his head dry. He took the torch from Raasakitnan and jogged fast in the heavy rain along his usual route. Meanwhile, the sheep in the barn were incessantly bleating, possibly for the lost ewe!
The red soil path, entirely washed away by the rain, was more like a rivulet. The dim light from the torch couldn’t penetrate the pitch-black darkness. As Appu had been drenched in the rain for a long time, he was shivering in the cold, his teeth chattering; he clamped his jaw hard to bear the cold somehow.
The mountain path, easy during the day, was treacherous in the darkness and rain. Appu began searching methodically in all the dark pits in the valley. As if this heavy downpour silenced the entire forest, there was no noise other than the sound of rain. As his legs froze in unbearable pain, he gently leaned on a tree. He couldn’t even estimate the time. At that moment, it seemed the rain had even washed away the concept of time. Wheezing, he wondered, “What if she has already birthed? If so, will it be possible to rescue the ewe and the newborn in this terrible rain?”
Hearing a feeble moaning sound nearby, he quickly pointed his torch towards it. A sheep appeared to be hiding under some bushes, a perfect place to protect it from the heavy rain. As if this wasn’t enough, there were many bushes around as a great cover. From the sheep’s sounds, Appu understood the situation. As he approached it, he saw that it was his lost ewe, sitting and trembling in the cold, covered with the blood of lambing and drenched in the rain.
As he ran faster, the ewe, blinded by the torch, couldn’t recognise Appu. It sensed the presence of somebody and stood up in fear, tightly holding its newborn lamb to protect it. The closer the light came, the louder was the sheep’s cry. Appu panicked and stood still, not knowing what to do. He then calmed down, turned off the light, and stood motionless, except for his uncontrollable shivering. He patiently stayed immobile until the ewe calmed down and its bleats of fear subsided.
“Yeeiiii… ththrieee…, it’s me, you fool, why are you still shouting!” Appu yelled. As the ewe recognised his voice, it quickly stood up. Now he gently approached it. As if it had been saving its moaning till now, it began bleating piteously, as though in the pangs of childbirth.
“You dumbass! Can’t you move along with the flock? Yet here you are shouting! Wait until I spank you!” he said, then gently caressed it; the moaning now subsided. He lit the torch away from the ewe and was able to see the path clearly. Sitting closer, he gently touched the newborn lamb huddled in the gap between its mother’s legs. Breathing fast, the lamb was full of life. He caressed its soft body, and it quivered subtly to his touch. Unclamping a knife from his thorati, he carefully cut the umbilical cord attached to its mother, pulled out the baby lamb from the ewe, and tied the stump attached to the lamb. The ewe, its discomfort finally relieved, took a few deep breaths.
Wrapping the newborn in his dry towel, Appu drove the ewe out from the valley, its blood still not fully washed away by the rain. Besides, the rain and mud outside gave a peculiar smell to the ewe, which was rushing down the slope. The fresh smell of lambing (childbirth) filled the entire forest, which, till now, was filled with the sounds of rain. Yet Appu, excited to have a newborn lamb with him for the first time, rushed towards the barn.
The lamp was still lit inside the tent. The lost sheep bleated joyfully on finally finding its way back to the barn; the rest of the flock too responded to its happiness. Raasakitnan and Raamu hurried towards the ewe.
“Appu, are you alright?” Raamu was the first to ask restlessly.
“No worries Chinnaya, I’m good!”
Carrying the newborn lamb, Appu’s face glowed with happiness that overshadowed his exhaustion. Raasakitnan took the lamb from Appu and checked it. It was hale and healthy! “Where did you find them, Appu?” he asked.
Appu, wiping the water dripping from his body, replied, “Today, before getting dark I drove them to graze in a valley, Ayya. It appears this one alone stayed back. Thank goodness, no poisonous bug bit her!”
“First change your dress and eat. We’ll talk later!” Raamu hugged Appu tight and took him back to his tent.
As Raamu dried Appu’s hair and changed his dress, he noticed that despite the chill weather, Appu’s body was hot with fever. His bed was already made with doubled blankets. As Raasakitnan served the food on his plate, Appu’s hunger, which he had been oblivious to all this time, couldn’t even wait for his hands to grab the food before him. Silently, he gobbled the food entirely.
“I’ll go to the market some other day. I’ll sleep tight now and wake up relaxed in the morning,” Raasakitnan told Appu, adjusting his pillow. Appu nodded silently as Raasakitnan went to his tent. Though Appu was too drowsy, he did not want to lie down. He relaxed his legs and sat up, looking at the barn. The rain had stopped, and the barn remained serenely silent in the darkness.
– – –
It was not yet dawn. Raasakitnan, shocked awake by the blaring honking sound of the forest department’s jeep in front of his tent, came out hastily.
The Range officer rushed in and shouted, “Hey you, Keedhari! Come out now! Hurry up!”
Still half asleep, as Raasakitnan hastily approached, the officer gave him a tight slap, and thundered, “Do you even have brains? How can you send small children for minding sheep?”
As Keedhari stood shivering, not understanding what was going on, Raamu rushed out from his tent on hearing the noise.
“What happened, sir? Any problem?” Raasakitnan’s words seemed to slip off his tongue.
“Problem? You guys sent a small child in this heavy rain! He must have lost his way around this rocky area. He fell into the valley and died on the spot! A lorry driver, who was driving that way, noticed and rang me up!!”
Raasakitnan trembled in shock!
“What are you saying, sir! He had already returned. He even had his dinner and slept!”
Totally furious with Raasakitnan’s reply, the Ranger slapped him again, and shouted, “Do you even listen to what I am saying? Instead, you have the guts to blabber a new story?”
Raamu pushed him aside, swiftly approached the officer and shouted, “Sir, why don’t you come and check inside his tent to see if what we said is a lie or truth?”
Furiously the Ranger went back to his jeep and returned with another cop, both carrying Appu towards Raamu and Raasakitnan. Both of them were utterly shocked. Raasakitnan still couldn’t understand what was going on. Undoubtedly, the Ranger was carrying Appu! He quickly rushed back to Appu’s tent and looked in the place where Appu had been lying down the previous night.
Appu’s blanket remained spread and unwrinkled. Raasakitnan touched Appu’s cot, which showed no sign of a person had used it. But he could sense a peculiar scent emanating from the cot. Unable to identify the smell, he took a few deep breaths. It was the smell of Aavaram flowers!
……………….
This story is originally written in Tamil and is translated to English by Preethi Vasanth.
An IT Professional by nameplate and a word admirer by passion, Preethi is always fond of collecting words which resonate the deepest yearnings of heart and soul. She has written short stories and poems and has published a science fiction short story for kids in Tamil on Amazon Kindle which collected the jury’s special prize. Aside from writing, she enjoys being a Radio Jockey. Recently Preethi has expanded her horizons as a translator and as a voice-over artist, lending voices for kids’ short stories and poems. You can contact her @ preethi2030@gmail.com.
