Vennila A
I was restless from the morning. Unable to sense what was bothering my body. I checked the forehead for a fever. The body was cold. But I was scorching inside. Neither a headache nor a body pain. Not even any signs of catching a cold. A week has gone since the last period.
The body is always like this. It wouldn’t allow me to understand what it does to me. Neither do I have a clue about it. All I know is that it isn’t normal. I was on edge like the body is being roasted on a lukewarm flame. It’d be better if I could understand at least what it is doing. But the body never reveals itself to me. Or is it me who is unable to understand the body?
Breasts felt heavier. It used to be like this precisely a week before the periods. That is when the body wrings itself. Eyes look red-hot. Thighs become weighty. The sore legs tumble to fall. Those days tell how strenuous it is to carry one’s own body! But, lately, what is the reason for the body to be like this all the time?
Having decided not to pay any attention to the body, I distracted the mind with other works. It’s hard to control the mind like this. Had the body behaved normally, it’s possible to ignore the mind and carry on with the routine. But if the body throws any tantrums, then the mind too gets exhausted, and the entire body-mind train breaks down at some point. Not to mention, ‘tire-wheel’ is my nickname at home.
There was no pain anywhere in the body. Nor any strangeness felt in any other parts. Is this some kind of a new disease? I reassured the mind that it was not and focused on the work. I cannot tell that I completely forgot the body amid the work. During my childhood, when I used to sweep the house with a new broom, Oomul – a tiny twig from the broom will get stuck somewhere onto the dress. Hard to tell where. Whenever I sit or stand, the twig which sways along the body in all directions will prick me ruthlessly. It’d be a nightmare until I spot the twig and throw it out. Now it’s like the twig is sewn inside the body. How to find and throw it out? Is there any special scanning available for this?
While the whole day was jammed with work, a small lightning-like wave kept surging inside. Heart diligently followed the wave, spreading from toe to head in no time. It spread from head to toe, once. Once in between the breasts. And once from the deepest of the heart. The waves that started to spread from the other parts are now running across the body like the nerves.
The classic chart of the human body circulation system, which I saw during the grade 9 science class flashed in front of the eyes. The blood vessels, like tangled yarns, intertwined throughout the body. Where do each and every blood vessel come from or go to? Where do they start? Where do they end? Do they go from top to bottom or from bottom to top? Never understood them until I finished schooling. Is it those blood vessel’s ceaseless marathons across the muscle-less circulatory system feel like the pain which I suffer now?
Body, which usually hints about even the slightest piece of a small pin with a noticeable pain, is now acting like a quiescent dough of flour showing nothing! So, I started to concentrate on it more.
How many times have I seen this body bare naked?
Until I was 15, there was no separate bathroom in the house. Bathing had to be taken in the open yard at the centre of the house. Especially in a joint household like mine, people scurry around the house all the time. My mother and aunts in the kitchen glued right next to the bathing yard. Kids run here and there all over the place.
Women from the neighbourhood also barge in to borrow a few mustards, green chilly and curry leaves. Have to bathe in front of all these people. When I sit down as I carry the water from the tub into a big pail, wearing only the in-skirt raised above the chest, my body will cringe desperately trying to hide behind the Annakooda- the big round bucket. Though it seems like everyone is busy with their chores, there is always an eye on me when I bath. Especially the teen boys from the neighbourhood who peeks into the house at least once or twice right at the shower time. Why did they come? Why did they leave just like that? No one will have any second thoughts to even question them!
“Look! The neck is growing dark. Brush them well”, Mother will shout from the kitchen. She never forgets to quote this to me every day. When I sit down to bathe with one knee raised and the other folded, the cleavage clearly shows. So, I’d just rush soaping the neck, face and hands. Then sticking out the legs and feet, I wash them for namesake by pouring the water on me. The habit of properly showering the body developed only after the advent of a separate bathroom. I happened to see the fully-grown body for the first time in that bathroom. “You shouldn’t wear petticoats anymore. Wear bras. Otherwise, your breasts might sag like an old woman!” Mother would advise raucously right in front of my aunt. I looked at my fully-grown breasts. It was hard as a young mango. I was embarrassed to touch it.
“It won’t come out for Kannagi. No matter what shirt she wears, it wouldn’t stick out as mine does. Why they have to grow this big for me?” I’d scold the breasts every day when I bath. Never had I washed them properly. I felt disgusted to touch the breasts as if they were something despicable! But they stood out like a front-line enemy announcing their existence all the time!
After the marriage, when Kanna approached to touch them, I pushed his hands away. “You have a beautiful breast! Why are you not letting me touch ’em?” He’d be mad. Once, when we visited Srirangam Temple, after seeing a finely carved statue of a woman with big bosoms, he winked at me. He always held them in his hands during his sleep. “I need this warmth to sleep”, he says.
Despite escaping the stealthy eyes of men after building a bathroom, not even one day, Mother allowed me to shower in the way I liked. She’d bombard me with questions as soon as I enter the bathroom. When I’m just about to lock the door, she’d yell, “Why do you lock the doors? Who’s here to watch?” louder enough to be heard four houses down the street. Though I’d be irritated like “What’s the need for a bathroom without wanting to lock it?”, I never expressed. She then lets herself in to sponge my back. “Turn around, I’ll shampoo your hair. The oil won’t be washed away if you wash!” she’d say while applying sheekah on the hair. Even during Maruveedu- the day after the marriage, when I visited her, she barged in saying, “Just splash the water wherever you feel pain!”
By the time I got to see my body thoroughly, I was 23 years already. I nagged my father to buy me a cabinet closet attached with a full-size mirror. “Why do you need that? Within a year, it might lose its shine and wouldn’t look good!”, he declined. “Doesn’t matter. All I need is a cabinet with a mirror”, I replied sternly. “You have a small mirror to see the face, right? Then what is the need for a cabinet with a mirror?”, my mother too tried to disapprove. But my father listened to me on this matter.
Mother had a palm-sized mirror. In the evenings she’d sit by the porch, combing her hair into a bun. Gently rubbing off the oil shining on the forehead with her saree, she’ll grab the mirror. Her face wouldn’t be in the full view. If seen at a foot away, perhaps the forehead will be in sight.
Mother would adjust the big Kumkum she has on her forehead looking in the mirror by slightly tilting it. She then turns the face from left to right, looking sideways. Hard to tell what my mother saw in the mirror which had lost all its shine. But that’s the only time she had to look in the mirror.
As she returns from the shower, she’d place the Kumkum on the forehead without looking in the mirror. The mirror is just for a namesake. There was one among my dowry gifts, too.
Besides other things, when the cabinet with a full-size mirror accompanied me after the wedding, it gave me a sheepish thrill of hiding something clandestine. I instructed to put the cabinet across the bed. Whenever I opened or closed the cabinet or walked into the room, I saw my full reflection in the mirror. I wanted to take a moment in enjoying what I saw in the mirror.
‘Am I beautiful or not?’ There is no need for such a question. The chaste body made me curious to enjoy it. As I turned the face around, while looking at my back to adjust the dress, a glimpse of my rear side view in the mirror gave an instant thrill. The dimly lit midnight, where I caught the first view of my nudity along with Kanna remains fresh in the heart like a temple statue! Though I locked the door, I’d be quite nervous about gazing at my very own body while changing. There would be a pang of the guilt of doing something regretful.
And, whenever someone knocks at the door while I’m looking at myself in the mirror, I’d drop dead with the sweats chilling down the backbone! “I’m coming” as I respond, the trembles in my voice can be heard.” This is my body, right? How is it wrong for me to watch it?” My heart desperately would attempt for a sign of outright courage to comfort me, but not even once, had gained it.
And things only worsened when I was expecting Yazhini. The mere thought of going to the doctors would make me faint. The body which I have not appropriately observed, gets flipped back and forth like a newspaper by them! Before the doctor comes, when the attendant goes on to throw instructions at me like “Get on the bed. Lay down. Loosen the in-skirt and lift your saree a little above, keep your legs wide apart!”, I’d be mortified.
My body would coil like a snail going into its shell. And while the examining doctor puts his gloved hands inside me, says” Only when you relax, I can observe!”, I’d run out of breath! How many people have seen my body from the time I got pregnant till the baby’s birth? When I was crying my heart out in labour-pain, a nurse pinched my thighs and said, “Stop crying! Don’t you know that labour will hurt when you had sex?”
I went to the toilet after I gave birth to the baby. The blood flushed out like urine. Felt lightheaded seeing vast amounts of blood. When I stumbled to fall, an old woman-a helper from the hospital, caught me by the shoulders. “Wait here!” she said and disappeared, who then returned carrying a small bucket of warm water. “Spread your legs wide apart and roll up your saree”, she said in a coarse tone. That was the day my inhibitions over the body disappeared. She then took a cup of water from the bucket and splashed it in between my thighs. The hot water, in its ideal warmth, was soothing like a medicine. I spread the thighs wider, and the more the hot water splashed, the pain I was enduring vanished away!
I was not embarrassed to stand naked in front of a stranger. My blood-dripping body didn’t disgust that old woman, either! Her prudent maturity made her treat the agonising pain in my body and took care of it. All the three days while I remained at the hospital, I kept looking at her, who was sitting outside chewing betel leaf in her mouth. Only after I gave birth to a child, the inhibitions over the body took off.
Neela Auntie’s busty bosoms hung down all the time. She never covered them. I hated to look at her during my childhood. “Why is she sitting around here showing them off?” I’d mutter.
No matter who interacted with her, be it the bystanders, spinach seller, flour seller, or Bhai- the bangle seller, or Chetti- the oil vendor, her saree remained twined into a cord, like a dividing line in between her bosoms, brutally showing them off!
Her saree used to be always above the knees. If asked, “Why are you sitting like this Auntie?”, She’d recklessly answer,” I have what everyone has, right? who cares if someone stares at them”, showing them off even more. After that, no one would dare to argue with her. Else it’d turn out to be a horror listening to the filthy words coming out of her! She’d go on to flash what’s under the saree, in the middle of a street, bawling, “How is mine different from the vagina that birthed you?”. Only when I stood naked, spreading my thighs wider and wider in front of the old woman, I finally realised how Neela Auntie had been freed from all of her inhibitions.
When I’m called by my name, my body is the only thing related to it! Yet it took me 23 years to fully notice how it looks on the outside. Even after giving birth to a child, I could not fully understand the enigma of my very own body. Not able to tell what it does to me. I can tell when it’s hungry or when I hit something, it pains. But what else do I know about my body?
What do I do with this wave which is giving me chills running throughout the whole body? Isn’t it sad for me – who is in her late 40’s, to not know her body? Got quite a few wrinkles on the muscles. Dark circles under the eye had grown bigger. The body had come a long way, past its beauty – which men looked at it for the second time.
Why is my body yearning like a fruit behind its ripeness? All the doctors who diagnosed me said the same thing that it is the Menopause Problem. “Menopause is a problem both while it starts and as it ends”.
Who is the right person to talk about the problems of the body? Is it Kanna or the doctors? Or my colleagues? Or my male friends? Wait, Do I even have one? Or my children? I am now probing the body myself before I get to explain it to others.
What’s with the body? For what it is filled to its brim? What is the new disease that is melting within?
**********
Despite being occupied with work all day, my attention towards the body was not compromised. I began to observe what was going on. Even the doctors do the same. They probe us more to know ut the body. If it’s a fever, headache or stomach ache, they will prescribe a few meds or shots. When we say something like,” I know something is wrong with the body, but not sure what it is”, they’ll be annoyed, giving us a black look from head to toe, responding,” How can I treat you if you can’t exactly say what is going on?”
They diagnose the body only from our answers. Every time I’d be embarrassed to stand in front of a doctor not knowing what to say to him about what exactly is happening in my body. Kanna expresses his anger only in front of others. Rolling his eyes, he’d yell, “How come you don’t know what’s bothering you…?” So, this time, I did not share the body with anyone. Instead, I started inspecting it this morning.
It’s easy to observe the body from outside. Can see the fingernails, the face, the neck, and even the backside, by turning sideways, with a mirror in front. But how to inspect what is happening inside. Can the mind work like a scanning machine?
Determined, I continued to inspect the body. I carefully observed from the heartbeat to pulse. No pain in any part of the body. But it felt like a sensational ball of zeal was rolling under the stomach. When I was young, while learning to cycle, Sundari who was running behind my bike tumbled over and fractured her shoulder bones. Her blaring cry of pain gathered the entire street that day back then.
I dropped my bicycle in fear and hid behind my uncle’s hay-loft. I was terrified that my mother or Sundari’s parents would spank me, and in that frightening moment, I felt a ball of something rolling between the chest and stomach, while I was out of breath. The same ball of fear would immediately start rolling if there’s any problem in the house. How does it get inside the stomach in less than a few seconds? Even after I grew up, that ball of fear never stopped rolling!
Whatever rolling inside me now is not that ball of fear. Ball of anxiety would move between the chest and stomach. But this is rolling under the abdomen. Is there some problem with my belly? Not possible. Have never spent more than a couple of minutes inside the toilet. Though I barely looked after the body, bowel movements never gave me trouble.
Even during periods, I wouldn’t have any stomach pain except for the mild cramps down the abdomen. The rays of pain kept extending down the stomach. As I stalked that ray keenly, the knots of discomfort steered further down. Finally, I found the spot which I had been searching for! Only from this knot, zeal spread throughout just like how the blood from the heart dispersed across the body.
I was startled after finding out about the zeal, which was pricking the body all along like the twig! It’s not like the discomfort of holding to pee. Instead, it felt like a spring that needed to be let out! Is the body hinting me about its needs like hunger? When was the last time we spent the night together? As I calculated the days back, the counting put us before 10 days.
After the children grew up, we hardly spent the nights together, limiting to once or twice a month. He’d leave the room finishing up the ‘business’ in less than five minutes. Everything will be over before even the body gets ready. After that, he goes into a sound sleep, and I’d be out of it. I’d get busy with some work to distract the fumbling body. It will take at least half an hour to come back to normal. It’s better to be without it rather than gobbling it up in haste, right? I couldn’t say no, either. If I did, he’d have a long face the whole day, snapping harsh words at me. Ipso facto getting used to the ‘five minutes routine’ became a duty as a wife.
It was completely different during the first few days of the marriage. The undisturbed privacy within the four walls of a room gave us the zeal to curiously uncover each other’s body. It had no clock or count back then. Kanna will go for it just like that in the middle of a casual conversation. A passionate battle to impress each other. A battle to taste the alchemy of intimacy. We’d be ready for it always. And in one of many ways, the body roused us. Before we fully get to traverse through our body’s seduction, Yazhini was born.
The third day I returned home after her birth, Kanna asked,” It’s not possible to do it now, right?”. He looked piteous that I spent the night with him after a week. After Aadhi was born, the old compassion was not there anymore. Kanna used to come for it only when he really needed it. There is no such routine as once a week or twice a month but continued as a habitual ritual, just in case not to forget it.
Like cooking, doing laundry, or showing off at family gatherings, making love too had become a duty. Without him asking for it, I never had a thought of it. I had not even initiated it by myself. Everything can be asked. But the idea of asking for sex sounded filthy to me. Not even once I went for it by myself. I used to wonder what I was proud of. At least Kanna never got to be stressed about it.
Kanna had never noticed how I felt when we were intimate. He’d just leave after he finished. He’d never cared whether I finished or still hovering around there.
After that, he’d drink some water and snack on something. If it’s a fruit, he will gobble them like monkeys. He must have to eat something. If there isn’t anything, he will open the canisters in the kitchen, looking for something. He gotta eat something like cashews or raisins. His activities will look like he is justifying the calories that he’d just burnt on the bed. He’d then fall asleep in an hour after nibbling something.
Perhaps I lost interest because of hanging there all alone before even getting to the finish line. When burning fire-woods, what happens if the fire is put down by watering it right after kindling the glaze? Half-burnt fire-woods with half-done ashes. The body had been collecting those fuming litter in a corner. Yet never had once let out the burnt smell.
But why, all of a sudden, this thorn of lust is setting to roll?
I met gynaecologist last year. I told the doctor that the body had been boiling even a week before the menstruation and that my hands and legs were trembling. He said, “Body goes through a lot of changes when menstruation attempts to stop. Instead of taking tablets for that, it’s best if you could keep things calm and pass over this phase. I’d prescribe tablets if there is any over bleeding or other problems. But it seems like emotional imbalance is your only issue. If you handle it bravely, things will settle down. Please talk to your family”.
Kanna accompanied me to the hospital. But he didn’t come inside. When I conveyed what the doctor told, on our way back home, he was like,” All these doctors know how to loot the money out of us. Back in the days what did our ancestors do to treat this Menopause tension, Obesity and Stress? These people earn money by coining new terms like ‘yoga’ ‘exercise’ because the body is the only thing that we fear about, right?”. I grew more nervous as he talked about world politics.
As a matter of fact, almost three-quarters of a month – a week before, a week after and during the periods, goes in anxiety. Kanna might question me like,” why are you making a big fuss out of this?”. Annoyed as such, I didn’t follow up with the gynaecologist again. “When this will all end?” as I was desperately expecting it to be over, the twig had stuck into me out of nowhere!
Well, I’ve found the spot. Now all I gotta do is throw it out. That’s it. And it will all be over like a hot meal boiling on the stove that cools off right after it settles down.
**
But things didn’t cool off as I thought. In fact, it was spreading all over the body like a tiny spring that was too small to see, oozing out of a rock. A breezy amalgam of warmth and cold soothed the heart. It prompted me to sift through the body more closely. It had been years since I looked in the mirror quietly. The mirror had lost its shine from all the scribbles and scratches made by Yazhini and Aadhi. In the recent past, all I gotta do is place the Kumkum on the forehead while draping the saree by bringing the face forward towards the mirror.
Today, I thought about looking in the mirror. Just like the mirror, the face too has lost its glow. Spotted quite a lot of grey hairs around the forehead. The right hand which I raised to comb the hair showed its wrinkled muscles with nerves popping out. The soaps I used to wash the vessels and the laundry have reduced the glow of the hands. Women’s hands glow only up until they enter the never-ending saga of the kitchen.
In just one year into the cooking, the hands significantly stand out by its dimming glow. Revathi and Usha used to dress up very well. Their faces always glowed. They followed all grooming thumb rules, from finely draped sarees to Neatly-dyed hair covering the grey lines. Only when they pull in their chairs, starting to type on the keyboards, their dull hands with wrinkled muscles and protruding nerves will show up. Can’t blame them. House chores are brutal!
Not to mention about the legs. Those stone-studded slippers wouldn’t match their cracked feet. Everyone will mock them. But I’d support pointing out that it’s not their fault for them to have the cracked feet or the dull hands. I’d argue that there is nothing wrong in trying to pamper ourselves with some makeovers. Even I wish to do such things for myself. Firstly, I need to do something about my wrinkled hands.
A rose garden bloomed inside me. An earthy fragrance of local flowers oozed in the heart. The new ‘me’ looked different from myself. A calmness arose in my walk. Spoke to the kids without yelling. Phoned Kanna and asked him, “when you will be home?”. Though I know that he’d be home by 8, I talked to him for the sake of wanting to speak to him.
As Kanna entered the home, I stood in front of him, asking,” How about a shower?”. After returning from office, I’d take a shower too. After a bath, I combed the hair, gently powdered the face and applied kajal to the eyes. Thinking that he’d ask about it after noticing me, I stood in front of him intentionally. After he hung the car key on the hanger, he just went inside the home returning to the missed calls on his phone.
Yazhini and Aadhi asked me,” Mom you look so fresh today, what’s up?” Although I replied, “I don’t think so, just being usual!” I liked that they noticed the new changes in me.
Kanna is always like this. He focuses only on his works. I used to get my school books from him. He was in 9th when I was 8th. If he had any writing assignments, he’d come straight to our home ordering, “Auntie, remind Bama to complete my assignment…!”
But If I go to him regarding a doubt in the class math or something he immediately shuts me off saying, “I’ve got plenty of studies to do! can’t help you now”.When my uncle asked me to marry him, I agreed to the proposal.
“You’d have to drag him to your side, all time. Think well before you say yes”, said, my mother.
Kanna didn’t notice me until it was time to bed. We had dinner. We watched tv. We even talked about some random stuff. But there was no such instance that made him look at me. Are we like this every day? Or I’m thinking like this because I dressed up today? Has the garden of roses ever bloomed in Kanna’s heart? Maybe I didn’t notice him when he expected me to? An inkling of fluster tried to enter me. “Bama! Did you notice anything different in me?” If he has to, he’d ask in his loud voice.
Yazhini and Aadhi were both asleep, with their legs on top of each other. Kanna dozes off quickly. Impossible to predict when he is awake or asleep on the bed. He’d go to sleep within a few minutes. He used to fall asleep in no time.
I wanted to talk with him, hold his hands. His lips were like an exact impression of his moustache. How many days had it been without kissing? Days? It must be months! Months? It must be years!
Had we been intimate so far without even kissing each other?
After returning from college, I had to park the bicycle behind the garden. How did he manage to hide all along? As I turn away after locking the bike, he’d pull my hair from nowhere. Before even I get a grip, he’d glom on to my lips. Though I’d try to push him away hurriedly with my hands and legs, he wouldn’t stop kissing me. He’d only stop until we went out of breath. Just in time when he heard the food steps, he’d leave without a heart, halfway through a kiss, by disappearing into the garden trees. There were no blind spots left behind in our houses where we didn’t kiss.
One time everyone had gone to the temple. I was alone. It was periods-time. It rained cats and dogs. No one was home. And he came somehow. He grabbed my hands and dragged me to the open yard. As I watched the sky with the rainwater pouring down on my face, he held me close and hugged me tightly. We kissed each other in the rain. Can’t remember how long we kissed. We both were drenched to the bone that we caught a fever that night!
From when Kanna – who used to clock his kissing time like one minute or for two minutes, had stopped kissing? How did I forget, too? Why didn’t it occur to me so far?
As I recalled kissing, the ball of zeal inside me rolled faster. I felt butterflies in the body. The blazing heat started to spread within. It disperses the scent of sandalwood. How to respond to this alchemy which the body adapted to? Fingertips felt icy as the heat flowed through the feet. Bosoms felt heavier. Thighs relaxed. The silhouette of the body set out to quench the thirst of desire converged in the eyes. Not even in a day, I felt the urge all by myself. Maybe one in a hundred times, the body might have shown signs of longing.
I stood as if I was candidly professing in front of God. The blaze inside didn’t burn me. Neither chased me away like a frosting winter. Instead, it called with open hands like a waterfall welcoming me to be drenched within. But I need Kanna to embark on Kama! With the body that was in the flying state, I looked at Kanna. Even the air couldn’t penetrate Kanna, who was sleeping, coiled with his hands held between the legs.
Will I get to witness the exotic nude body again?
A peck of a kiss would be enough to open the secret doors of the body. If he wakes up, he will get the key to unlock the treasure I hold within which he was searching for years. “Wake up, Kanna”, I said aloud inside my mind. Though aloud, the words just hissed.
“Why can’t I wake him up?” “What if I kiss him just like that?” Will he scream in fear? Will, he put off my hands? What if he shushes me away? I sat by his bed. The wings of the electric fan, looking like leaves circled around him. As it’s shadow and light lit in sequence, his face looked different. I sat closer to him. I started to gently comb his hair. Fingers were hesitant while combing. Kanna didn’t move. Fingers kept foraging through the hair.
The blue lamp captured the nightlight in the room like a dimly lit stark landscape. The wall calendar, swaying along with the air, was dancing up and down. Though the fan was gushing air to the entire room which remained still.
What to say if Kanna wakes up? That I need him? Had he ever stood longing for it in front of me? His activities made it clear that he is aware of what he is entitled to take whatever he wants from me. He takes it as per his needs. The usual love-making with the Kanna I love. Why should I hesitate? Will he humiliate me if I say I need him? Why am I afraid to tell him my body is ready?
Why can’t I take what I want just like Kanna does? Can I give a long-forgotten kiss to wake him up? What if he’s like “What just happened now?”. I laid on his back. As he felt my burden on him, he moved slightly. Enough for the body to turn on, all fired up. Did he think it is a mosquito bite? Or consider the kids have put their legs on him? He leaned forward, pulled the blanket and covered him quickly. In the next second, his rhythmic breathing resumed.
I sat straight from laying on his back. It was half an hour past 12—no irritation in the eyes. The body was not exhausted. That midnight groomed me like it was waiting to help me discover a treasure. The body appeared weightless as if it is designed to fly now.
Is this the same the doctor referred when he said that during menopause different kinds of emotions arise? But he didn’t mention that the sex-drive will increase or that it might engulf the whole body! Maybe I should have talked to Kanna about this? But will Kanna, who always crow-bite the body, know about this flood which is waiting to break the dam?
What’s wrong in initiating it myself with Kanna, with whom I fell in love with. Although I couldn’t precisely define his persona! He’d give me freedom in the bed. And in that spirit If I act free, he’d take it back. While he is initiating it, my body should not show that it is ready. If it shows, he will tighten his grip on me. If I drag his hands back to bed while he is about to leave, he will shoo me away. Thus, his wish became my desire. It’s like I don’t have a desire for me anymore. Now the body was completely ready floating like a water resource filled to its brim.
The night, not understanding the pining, kept moving hours past midnight. I happened to witness the blooming of the body spreading its fragrance like a scented flower. Finally, I forgot Kanna. A body which is ready to explore its own desire is an incredible wonder of nature. I witnessed the body, which stood as a wonder initiating its desire to satisfy the craving like a dancing cobra!
***
It dawned.
After what happened yesterday, my body didn’t wear out in fright. Instead, it seemed refreshed as if it had received some divinely Gyan! Finally realised the priorities of the body. The thought of looking after its needs increased. But the body looked fine right? It ate when it’s hungry. It dressed well for its self-esteem. Got itself treated if any of the parts were repaired. Though the soul is given the semblance, the feelings are for the body, right? It’s the body which bears the countless mood swings of the soul, happening in minutes. It’s the body which follows the orders of the mind throughout the day. It stands. It sits. It bends. It laughs. It satiates its hunger. It excretes waste. It sleeps to freshen up. It’s a perfect engine that is all geared up! Did the body- a servant taking orders from the two monsters- the soul and the mind, ever asked anything for itself in particular? It just sometimes grumbles in teary eyes and seeks attention with its appearance outward!
Kama- the art of love is essential for the body to feel the eternal bliss, like a bloomed flower. Just like the sculpture of Kuzhalvai Mozhi – the Goddess, decorated divinely inside her sanctum, Kama too groomed me yesterday. The murky darkness in the shrine, the smell from the ghee lamps, the scent of the holy ash, and the divine smile shining on the edge of the Goddess’s lips makes me forget the time. I’d totter for a few minutes entering into a continuum of space not knowing what time it is. The doors of Kamah opened to me just like that.
Randall, attained her divinely consort in her young humanly body, right? Maybe the taste buds of her eternal love took her to reach his divine holiness. Maybe, you can call God regarding your needs anytime if you marry one? Because he knows everything, including his consort’s desire to be loved? God will never leave in the middle like Kanna. He will never complete in haste. He’d ask his consort about her completeness too.
Is it the eternal Kama that Aandal felt in Arangan, her divine consort? Did she transmit her fragrance along with the garlands that she put on before giving him? Just like the garland, did he too wear her body? Arangan’s temple is Aandal’s alcove! Did her bristling bosoms relax after his divine touch?
Though the lips get ready to taste the Kama firstly, it’s the bosoms which kindle its zeal. The breasts, which looked saggy and tired, were now standing upright since yesterday. It’s waiting to be held with passion. Kanna gently touches them. He went wild when Yazhini was born. He fed on one side when Yazhini fed on the other. ‘I get to drink first, right?’, says he.
“I don’t remember being fed by my mother. My father was breastfed until he was eight. No matter where my grandma is, he’d simply start drinking. My grandma would be both mad and embarrassed. She even had spanked him for his humiliating behaviour. Despite that my father never stopped. Later, He struggled to wean off. He used to hold my grandmothers’ breast while sleeping”, said Kanna.
“Now imagine what I would remember who was just breastfed only until the first year. After that you are my second mother,” he’d say bumping his head. Two drops of tears from my eyes plopped on his face that night. Man finds a woman’s body only through his wife. He enjoys it. Also, get bored with it very soon.
After the bodies unite, the lips, bosoms, hands and legs become secondary. It’s like an exercise to be completed before bed. Kanna too got used to it like that. I must be one among the other reasons. I had divided my attention between the work, Yazhini and Aadhi. But didn’t give any time for us. Living under the same roof for a namesake with no romance! I’ve been hesitating all night to kiss him. Lastly, I didn’t do it either.
A Body which had made love for a thousand times had to wait for hours to even initiate a kiss!
*********
We were building sandcastles with our toys on a sundrenched day. Mother shouts when it gets too sunny. “It’s too sunny! Why don’t you all stop playing in the sun, now?!” she’ll yell to be heard for the whole street.
The bright rays of sunshine are stunning that the body will burn as it strikes. When looked keenly at the sunlight, ray over ray, the layers of sunlight that penetrate the body would be soothing. For the extreme heat that goes in, a contrast chill spikes within the body which can be felt. The whole body will start to sweat, spreading a soothing chillness inside. After we enjoyed making our play meal, when we lied down in the shadow, it seemed like the sunlight was sewn inside me. The sunlight on my head sparked throughout my body made me fly.
When we play, Mani – our puppy, always accompanies us. Sundari never liked it. She’d shoo it away. “Stop, poor thing let it play!” As I say, it’d come to me wagging its tail. It’d find that I’m supporting it. It used to sit beside me. When it can’t bear the heat, it will murmur and get inside the shade of my skirt. It’s tail in between my legs, the puppy rested under my skirt escaping from the hot sun.
We plucked the entire plant of thumbai for its flowers. When I gathered the White flowers from the plant into a mud bowl, I sensed something mushy down under the skirt.
“Did I just pee?” I freaked out. But no. something was biting. Did some kind of germ from the dog that got on me as Sundari warned me before? I was terrified. Something spread through my body. Though I didn’t understand, I liked how it made me feel. Sundari and Sumathy were sitting next to me. They didn’t notice what was going on in me. When nobody was looking, I checked on top of my skirt to find what’s under. It was Mani. Though I wanted to, I didn’t pull the puppy out. Whatever happened under me made me go crazy inside.
“Are you girls still playing in the sun?”, my old aunt shouted.
Her voice shook me. When I got up, the mud bowl on my lap fell down and broke, with flowers all over the place. I lost balance as if I was stopped in the middle of a roller coaster ride.
“This old woman would make a big fuss out of this. Come on let’s wrap up”, when Sundari and Sumathi prepared to leave, I couldn’t respond. I was still floating. Sundari turned around and looked at the puppy, which was now standing at my feet.
“Didn’t see it for a while? I wonder where was it?!”, asked Sundari.
“I have no idea”, I said.
Seeing the face of the puppy, she said, “Looks like it had been to someplace it shouldn’t!”
*******
The lizard on the wall was waiting to catch the wriggling insect. The insect slithered closer to the lizard, which was playing dead. But it wriggled back sensing the lizard in front. The lizard remained motionless. No clue about what might have gone in its head, the insect suddenly started moving towards the lizard. Lizard still stood idle. Hesitantly the insect continued moving forward. The gap between the lizard and the insect reduced.
The insect looked at the lizard. The lizard didn’t move yet. Its eyes still remained half-opened, playing dead. The insect slightly flapped its wings. It waited for a few seconds. It wanted to head back now. As it turned, the lizard stuck its tongue out. The spot where the insect stood was now empty. It was all over in a blink of an eye.
The room was grief-stricken. The silence of night added to the grief. Scary to witness the night like that! A growl of a cat from a distance disturbed the tranquillity of the night. I’ve heard a cat’s cooing before. But this growling sound of the cat painted a ghastly face to the night. Maybe that is why everyone sleeps in the nights fearing to face it’s dire?
Did everyone learn to sleep during the night? Why is night frightening? Perhaps, if we spend the night like how we spend the day doing chores, maybe nights wouldn’t be terrifying? The people working late hours- are they afraid of night? Can human-engines run like the machines that run all day and night?
We say nights are serene. But that is when thousands of sounds are heard. Even a soft sound is heard like the sound of the cat’s footsteps. The fluttering of a cockroach, the flap from the wings of a dragonfly. They are all heard.
I have never observed the night so far. I’ve been up all night during the first few days after the marriage. Spent those nights making love and a few conversations with Kanna. The sound we made fused with the other sounds of the night. Only today I’m staying up. How many new things have happened to me this week?
So, is this good or bad? Will this bring me honour or disgrace? Wouldn’t the people shame me if I – a dignified woman yearned for sex?
If my mother knew, she would rush down here. She’d abash me saying, “Why do you want to humiliate me – who birthed and brought you up? How can you ask for it despite birthing two children? Instead of bringing up your children, how dare you want to sleep with your husband all time? Did I birth you? Thank God, no one know about this. You’d be mortified if it were! Even a prostitute does it to win her bread. Do you think she is enjoying the work? No! she just lies down there! Have you ever heard any woman complaining about wanting to have sex with their husband? When the husband wants to, without saying no, she must sleep with him. That’s who a woman is, right? Do you think you are a rebel, unlike building a family or making a home with honour?
“Women should control their hearts and also their needs!”, she’d snap at me every second.
“I didn’t want to sleep with other men, right? All I’d like to have is meaningful sex with Kanna! Have I asked this before? No! Because, so far, I haven’t been able to understand what’s going on in me! I can care less now too, but the body wouldn’t stop plaguing me for itself!
Did the saints abstain fearing the needs of the body? Did they refrain as they failed to control the ecstatic cobra dancing inside their bodies? Is it a pre-plan to coin a word like ‘small pleasures’ so that no one would be mesmerised by it? Is there something like big or small in terms of pleasure? Why did they categorise sex into small pleasures? Maybe because it lasts only for a few minutes? Is it because the man and woman unite it’s called small pleasures? Just because they connect, does it become low to be called small?
It’s possible to enjoy other pleasures, one by one. Like laughing alone. Like crying. Like satiating the hunger. But you need two people to taste the Kaama. People who indulge in masturbation too exist among us. Are they here in this town? I haven’t heard about them. Naturally, it’s implied with two people, right? Or maybe they call small pleasures because it leads to reproduction? Or because it happens between people, it’s called so?
In that case, are there any ‘great’ pleasures? Maybe thinking about God is great pleasure? People have thought about God? But have they ever attained to him? When we reach his holy feet, perhaps it’s called great pleasure? But none have claimed it so far. Or none who claimed they had never done it!
My life was normal before this buzzing began. Did the mind lose its control over the body? Or the soul is resisting to be controlled by the mind? Is there no particular need for a body for a woman in family life? Am I disrupting the happiness of my perfect life?
A bloomed body? A spring of ecstasy? Blaze of the soul? Did I ask for any of these things? But after realising it, should I do nothing about it? Is it impossible to express myself in a husband-wife relationship? I’ve heard that the kings who were suspicious of their wives, locked her in an iron casket and carried the keys with them while they were gone hunting! Should I lock myself like that? Like wearing a mask? Can I escape this tormenting if I wear one?
The lizard which swallowed the insect was waiting for its next prey. In the dim lights, Yazhini and Aadhi looked gorgeous. The peacefulness on their faces touched me instantly. Why do I have to suffer – losing sleep, losing peace?
I held Kanna’s legs sticking out of the blanket and rested on the bed. Confused or afraid? Can’t differentiate! Longed for a hug from his loving hands. Or just a gentle touch on the head gesturing “I’m here for you” would be more than enough! Or a simple question of “why are you still up?” would be sufficient too!
Eyes ready to break down in tears. Though I am living with Kanna for years, the one who’s sleeping now seems like a stranger to me now!
Bama lied down in the space between Yazhini and Aadhi. Wrapping her hands over the children, she started to cry.
****
As the night passed along with its fear, the soul now enjoyed the dawn of the new day like a new birth!
Before the children woke up, I applied a face pack made of green gram powder and yoghurt. How many days since I looked my face in the mirror? I have to maintain the face glow. Unlike they show on tv, it was not possible to sit quietly with a face pack on. I wiped off the pack below my eyes and started to cook.
“Geez! Mom! You look like a monster!”, mocked Aadhi right after he came out of bed!
“Perhaps, yes!” I replied.
“What did you apply, Ma? What for?”
“This is green gram dear, it keeps the face glow!”
“mom, you are already beautiful! Kesav’s mom has black spots all over her face! Why don’t you try fair and lovely, Ma ?”
“but this is all-natural, dear”
After that, he went on to brush his teeth. When Yazhini saw me, she laughed out loud.
“Oh, mom! Why do you need this face pack! As if you are onto some beauty pageant!! “
“why can’t I try it too? “
“As if!!”
“I want to look good for myself!”
“Let’s wait until dad sees it! I bet He’s in for a shock! “
Kanna will wake up at 8. It’s been half an hour since I applied the face pack. Like Yazhini said, what if he says something hurtful?
I rushed to the bathroom to take a shower! As if I’m seeing the body for the first time, I keenly began soaping on each part. I polished my toenails twice to make them shine. I brushed well under the elbows. Having forgotten to wash the breasts at all, I lifted them like an infant, gently caressing the plump breasts. They were sore!
Like the flower Kurunji, which has a specific period to bloom, does the Kaama too have a particular time to bloom? Once in how many years it blooms? The doctor mentioned that it will occur during the menopause! Is it the time the body stops to bloom? They say the lamps shine brighter when they are about to stop, right? Likewise, is the body too in its finale? Won’t there be any desire left after 50? But in the western world, women bore children in their 60’s! How are their bodies ready then? But there is no need for a to bore a child, isn’t it? All you need is a conjugation of X and Y chromosomes.
Will the body be like a tree which has finished its flowering, when it stops to menstruate? We feel hunger and pain until we die, but why not the sexual urge? Or is it us who decide that we don’t need it till then?
“Are you still showering! It’s been half an hour!”, Kanna shouted.
I quickly poured the water on me and came out of the shower.
“I haven’t had my morning tea yet. What took you so long ?!” he teased.
Still wet, I wanted to kiss him tight. I imagined that I did walk away from him, smiling. Kanna looked puzzled!
I waved a fresh morning in the office. My smile brightened. I had a good time with my girlfriends. Worked like a bee. I felt as if everyone noticed how light my body is. Sathya came over to my desk and asked about it.
“Mam are you wearing eyeliner? It looks beautiful on you!”
Revathi didn’t talk to me until lunch.
“Bama, you look stunning today! Is it your wedding day ? “she asked during the break.
“But why would she come to work on her wedding day? Must be her birthday!”! Said Usha.
“Don’t you know that I only celebrate my children’s birthdays?”
“So what is it today?! You look bright as a newly polished lamp!”, Revathy teased again.
Vanity on my face multiplied as they noticed my blooming.
“I like this, and this is how we should come to the office! I mean, just because we are forty, do we need to look morbid or dress gloomy every time as if we are attending a funeral? Even my kids tell me like,’ mom dress like this.. Wear this saree..’ I’d tell them,” I’ll wear only what I like!”, said Revathi.
“Have you ever call your husband for sex?” I was about to ask.
But I didn’t. Can’t talk beyond shopping with them, definitely not about the intimate things. I controlled myself not to.
While I was waiting at the bus stop and after boarding the bus, I observed the women who were my age. Their faces looked sad. Faces with no care about the body and its needs. As if they announced they aren’t interested in any small talks or a few laughs any more. Their legs were sore. Necks were darker. Only very few women looked bright. While the young women in the bus were giggling for no reason, the Middle-Aged women looked worried, anticipating their long-pending chores at home.
Has the body ever asked them about its needs? Can they understand if it did? Like a lamp that burnt its thread without the oil, I stood like a representative of the gloomy and dull women. I’m still standing- the one who can’t even ask for a kiss from her husband! A free bird! Who am I kidding?
I returned from work. The home is lonely. It used to be. It will take another hour for Yazhini and Aadhi to be home. I locked the door and went into the bedroom. I thought of a nap. But I wasn’t sleepy. Laid the bag on the bed and looked at my reflection in the full mirror. I couldn’t tell any difference.
“What do you want from me? Why are you torturing me?” I asked the body which remained silent. Everyone has their own needs and desires. Whether Satisfied or not, they careless as they keep chasing their lives. Hunger can be fed. Even can be begged along with some sympathy too.
But what will I tell others about the “body needs”? What would they think of me?! Like I’m some maniac? Forget about them! What would Kanna say? Will he divorce me? Will he take the children with him saying that I’m a terrible influence on them?
In fact, all I ask him is to caress my fully bloomed body. All he had to do is turn on the lamp, ready with oil to be lit brighter. To put off the blazing heat with water! Is the lamp like the body, and the light is the fire of the body? The zeal in the body appeared calm on the outside like the ocean which has sharks and gators swimming underneath. Will the Kama spare us if we don’t mind it? But I have been unresponsive like that for the past 15 years. After all, I don’t even know what it is called!
It’d be better if Kanna arrived before the kids. I’d give him a long-awaited kiss with a chance to initiate things by myself. Have to ask him about my bloomed body. Have to do it without hurrying. He’d be home by 8, right?
The more I thought about him, the exciting rays of love spread in my body. The ball of zeal has now come to the neck. Breast stood up, longing for a hold. Face ballooned. I looked in the mirror again. It still looked the same. How come a volcano is erupting inside without showing any signs outside? Is it the soul which readies the body or the vice versa? Menstruation is for the body, right? But can it deal with this alone? Aren’t the soul and mind supposed to order the body to execute this? But the mind is restricting the body saying that this is wrong. How is it wrong to yearn for meaningful love? Is it wrong to wish spending time with him in the way I like?
I want to stop the mind from thinking otherwise. These thoughts distract my body, the fuming heat inside it! I want to go through this. Like surrendering to God, with a rare flower which blooms against all odds, I want to indulge my bloom. Even my hair should feel the ecstasy. Every part has flowered in wholesome. I’ve been nibbling on the body’s urge like having a hungry meal so far. Have given him some for namesake. But now I opened all the doors to my body like the doors of a Sanctum.
“Kanna, through which door you’ll enter?”
The door-bell rang. My heart flinched a beat. Felt like caught red-handed. I started to sweat. I consoled myself, asking “What did I do wrong?” “Why am I scared? But it didn’t help the anxiety. The door-bell rang again. I looked in the mirror to check whether it’s showing off something. As it didn’t reveal any, felt at ease, and after adjusting the dress ran towards the door. The body took off in the air as I unlocked the door. Kanna was standing at the door. The comforting sounds of a temple bell rang inside the heart.
As I locked the door after letting him in, I hugged him tight from the back. His shirts were wet by the sweating, and its fragrance made me hug him tighter. Kanna, who didn’t expect this, struggled to balance. Holding his office bag on one side, he tried to pull me in front from the other hand. I slid on his chest like a fruit ready to be ripe. An instant heat spread in the body. My hands coiled around his neck, locked him within my grip. I kissed him on the lips. He ran out of breath as I clasped on his lips.
The key to the treasure house is in the lips. It tasted like the juicy fruit. My breath felt the warmth in his breath. I passed my breath into him. Shiny blue-red grains of air were floating inside the closed eyes. A new life flourished in the wet of a kiss. I slipped through the woods, hills, valleys, oceans, waterfalls by afoot, and flew in the sky.
Kisses have transformed into two wings. Kanna’s lips disappeared from the eyes. I was tasting the tongue buds which were the soul of the revolving earth. As I unlocked the doors of the body, I entered into the sanctum of space!
Felt the fragrance of the forest flowers. The earthy scent of the tubers dug from the mud. Foam of a freshly skimmed milk. Salt of the sea. Sweet of a spring. Red earth’s crimson. The galaxy inside the wide-opened mouth of Little Krishna. My space revolved within the tightly clasped lips—the Bloom beyond ages.
“Leave, I can’t breathe!” He pushed me forward by placing his hand on his chest.
Without wanting to leave his lips, I moved forward. With all its focus on the lips, the body stood still.
“Hey, are you alright? Stop it!”, He quickly kept his hand on my face, and drifted.
I wanted to cry like an infant who just got pushed away from the breast when being fed,
“Kanna Please…!” I begged to kiss him again. With his strong arms, he pulled me back into his grip and dragged me to the bedroom. The office bag was on the floor.
Without taking off his shirt, he took off his pants in a rush. I was waiting for him to undress me. I wanted to show him how every body part has changed lately.
I want him to taste the dewdrop inside the flower, to slurp the juice of ripe fruit, to dive in deep tasting the water, crossing off each stage, step by step, taking it slow. Suddenly I felt heavy on top. Kanna was on me.
“Kanna. wait”, I told. But he was halfway past!
“Listen to me. please wait!”
I didn’t even get to undress. He fell on me, catching his breath. His sweat started to stink. A journey towards the uphill ended in empty fields. A body which felt weightless during love weighed more now. He went to take a shower after he stopped sweating.
I felt crushed like dispersing the army which was ready in the battle-front. A void filled me as if worshipping the Goddess without even anointing her, despite prepping the things ready for the sacred bath.
A stench from an aged oil oozing out of a black idol spread across my body.
“It’s done, right?, go sleep now”, told Kanna, who then marched out, wiping his face with a towel.
…………………
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.
This Translation is an outcome of a joint project by Kanali கனலி- கலை இலக்கிய இணையதளம் and FemAsia Magazine
