THE PUPPETEERS OF PALEM Page 19

  Thatha looked at him pointedly. ‘Are you sure you did not kill her?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ Aravind barked.

  ‘Then he has killed her. Do you not feel anything for him? Do you not feel like you should avenge him?’

  Aravind’s shoulders slumped. Very wearily, he lifted them up and let them drop again.

  ‘Oh, come on, boy! We’ve gone over this already. Are you going to take responsibility for what you’ve done or not?’

  ‘Responsibility,’ Aravind said vaguely. ‘Yes, responsibility.’

  Thatha stepped closer to him and held his wrist. ‘Look, tonight’s our chance. I’ve made some arrangements.’

  ‘Arrangements?’

  ‘Yes, arrangements to make sure people in the village will all be sleeping.’

  Araving looked at him curiously. ‘But isn’t it the opposite that we want? Don’t we want people to stay awake?’

  Thatha shook his head. ‘No, no, not at all. Look, she has had them sleeping and dreaming for a long time now. She has pretty much covered all bases. But the only way she can protect herself is through her puppets. You understand?’

  Aravind said, ‘So you’re going to knock them out somehow?’

  ‘Knock them out unconscious so that they cannot wake up and stop us from doing anything to her.’

  ‘But how?’

  Thatha shook some betel nuts out of his tin and popped them into his mouth. ‘I know some people,’ he said, tilting his head in the direction of the langur stump at the far corner of the field. ‘We used to give it to the monkeys when they became too old to be effective. We used to put some in a glass and force it down its throat.’ His eyes became glassy. ‘Or spray it on some peanuts and feed them to it.’

  ‘Chloroform?’ Aravind asked.

  ‘I don’t know what it is,’ Thatha said. ‘I only know it as the sleep medicine. They used to give it to me whenever I asked for it, and I paid them with chillies or peanuts or cotton or whatever.’

  ‘And you’re getting some more of it for tonight?’

  ‘Oh yes, I am getting some of it all right. I am getting them to spray it in each and every house in the village and close the windows. It won’t be hard because everyone’s sleeping anyway.’

  ‘But… what if she has already seen you thinking about it and taken steps to stop it?’

  Thatha grinned. ‘You’ve got to take a chance like that, boy. I asked four of them to take four sides of the village and work their way to the centre. That way we should get most of them even if she does see it coming.’ He bent his back, cleared his throat and spat. ‘They should be almost done by now.’

  ‘Oh!’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I got them started this morning, just after everyone left from that girl’s house.’

  ‘So they’re all sleeping now?’

  He nodded again and smiled. His teeth were orange from the gutkha paste. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, they should be.’

  ‘So we can go and dig it up?’ Aravind looked eagerly in the direction of the well.

  ‘Well…’ Thatha said. ‘What about him? He is not sleeping. And he hasn’t got the sleeping medicine.’ Thatha inclined his head in the direction of the house. ‘And he… is now listening to what she says.’

  Aravind followed the old man’s gaze. ‘Hmm,’ he said. After a thoughtful pause, he asked, ‘What now, then?’

  ‘I will tell you what,’ Thatha said. ‘This is what we will do.’

  There was fog in the air that night.

  Fog was not uncommon in Palem winters. The area was low-lying and temperatures stayed low because of the vicinity to the Godavari. In November and December, especially, a thick, smoky blanket covered the village on most mornings and nights. But this was not November. This was March. Early summer usually meant humid, sweaty, clear nights infested with mosquitoes. But tonight, the air was heavy.

  There was another, different kind of heaviness about the air. It was a light aroma that twitched the nostrils every now and then, dipping in, stimulating the senses and diving out before one could reach out and grab it.

  It was this strange smell in the air that gave the two men a headache as they walked towards the new Shivalayam.

  ‘She was the one, Aravind,’ Chanti said. All they heard was the sound of their steps in the loose, dew-laden mud. Every now and then, a nervous cricket would chirp from the bales of hay that stood by Saraswatamma’s house. There was no light but for the lantern in Aravind’s hand. Huts on either side looked abandoned and haunted. Each one of them was pitch black, their windows closed and doors barred. They walked the path, guided more by memory than anything else. If they walked to their left for a hundred yards, they would reach Saraswatamma’s front gate. They could not see that far in the fog, but they knew it. It had been seventeen years since they’d moved around in the fog in Palem, but the memory returned without any conscious effort. Their minds knew where they had to go and their feet knew how to take them there—fog or not.

  ‘She was the one,’ Chanti said again. ‘I knew she was the one. And I killed her.’

  Aravind did not reply. They walked on for some time in silence.

  ‘You and Chotu both noticed the way she looked at Ramana,’ said Chanti. ‘And there was no doubt really that she killed Seeta. Seeta was in love with you, and Sarayu would have hated Seeta for that.’

  ‘You know about Seeta and me?’

  ‘Yes… I didn’t mean to follow you that morning, but Chotu was telling me that you are Ramana’s killer, and when I saw you leave early that morning, curiosity got the better of me… I am sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Aravind said woodenly.

  ‘No, I really am. Because in a strange way, I am responsible for Seeta’s death. It was I who told Sarayu about you and Seeta. She… she didn’t know until then.’

  Aravind dug his spade into the ground just a little bit harder as he walked on.

  ‘I am sorry, Aravind! I know how much you loved Seeta. I… I heard—’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  The reached the spot that Thatha had pointed out. In the background, the dome of the Shivalayam rose into the air and glowed white in the moonlight. Aravind stopped, threw his spade into the ground and said, ‘It’s here.’

  ‘If Chotu had been here,’ Chanti said mournfully, ‘he would have said he could not feel anything.’ He bent down and used his shovel to displace some of the surface mud. It gave way easily. ‘Why do you think she killed Chotu, Aravind?’

  Aravind did not respond. He had drawn up to his full height and stood staring, transfixed, at the temple. There was a faint smile of incredulity on his face.

  ‘Aravind?’

  ‘Yes, what?’

  ‘Why do you think she killed Chotu? What did she have against him?’

  Aravind took his spade and got to work too. ‘Chotu was the only one among us with talents, you know, even though he seemed to be a bit rusty. Maybe she felt it would be a good thing to wipe him out, just to take no chances.’

  Chanti nodded. ‘Yes, that sounds right. And Ramana?’

  Aravind said, ‘I don’t know. I guess she had to start with someone, right?’

  ‘Yes, I am convinced it was Sarayu who killed them all. Are you?’

  ‘Probably,’ Aravind said.

  For a while, neither of them spoke. They worked on the top soil, each grunting with the effort as their tools loosened the earth. The smell that had brought on the headache was now faint, but the air was still heavy with fog. They were unable to see even a few yards to either side, but somehow, the dome of the Shivalayam appeared bright and sharp.

  ‘What do you mean, probably?’ Chanti asked slowly.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I asked you if you were convinced that Sarayu was the killer and you said probably. What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Aravind said. ‘I meant to say she is probably the killer.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re not yet convinced that she is the killer?’


  After a pause, Aravind said, ‘No.’

  Chanti took a step towards him and raised his shovel to his shoulder. ‘No? What do you mean, no?’

  Aravind did not stop working. ‘Do you want to argue or do you want to work?’

  ‘I want to know what you mean.’ He bent forward in Aravind’s direction now, looking closely at his face. ‘You think I am the killer, don’t you? You and Thatha both.’

  Aravind stood up and returned Chanti’s gaze. ‘You’re the one who slit her throat, Chanti.’

  ‘But,’ Chanti cried, ‘I was saving us from her. She was going to kill us both otherwise. Would you have liked that better? Huh?’

  ‘Let’s not argue, Chanti,’ Aravind said. ‘Let’s dig this out. If we find her, we kill her, yes?’

  ‘Of course. But I want to know what you’re thinking about me. Did Thatha send you out here with me so that you can kill me?’

  ‘That’s ridiculous, Chanti.’

  ‘Hah! Is it, though?’ Chanti took another menacing step towards Aravind, at which the latter backed up. ‘Let me see. I am starting to think I killed the wrong person.’ Chanti rubbed his chin in an exaggerated display of thought. ‘Yes, I think I may have killed the wrong person. I should have killed you.’

  Aravind gripped his spade and dragged it back with him as he backtracked. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Exactly what Chotu said right from the beginning! He is the one with the talents, as you said. What a pity none of us listened to him when he said you were the killer!’

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Oh,’ Chanti said. ‘Really, now? Is it ridiculous that you almost killed Chotu when we were kids? Is it ridiculous that you’re a freaking drug addict? Is it ridiculous that you had a spat with Ramana over his toy boat?’

  ‘No, they’re all true.’

  ‘Oh so these are all true.’ Chanti advanced a step. ‘But let me think about what happened here, too. Chotu said you were hiding something from all of us during the time Ramana’s body was discovered. So what do you do? You take Chotu away and you kill him.’

  ‘But he turned on me.’

  ‘Minor detail. He fought you, you defended yourself by smashing his skull with a rock. That counts as you killing him, you know.’

  ‘But… I didn’t.’

  Chanti rubbed his chin again. ‘Hmm, yes, you didn’t. You hit him on the head with a rock and he died. All by himself.’

  ‘Chanti, wait—’

  ‘And Seeta, how could you kill Seeta? The poor girl wanted you, she loved you, and you had to kill her because that would frame Sarayu. You knew she visited Seeta, and you went there and finished her off just because—’

  ‘No! I did not kill her.’

  ‘Yes, of course you didn’t.’ Chanti advanced again. ‘And when you accused Sarayu of killing her, you knew that she would profess her love for you, and you knew that would drive me insanely jealous. You knew, didn’t you, that I liked her?’

  Aravind nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you knew that I did not know the fact that she liked you?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I did not do it with any intention of driving you jealous. Stop coming any closer, Chanti. If you do, I will drive this spade through you.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t, Aravind,’ Chanti said. ‘You did all this because she is controlling you. You didn’t need reasons as long as you had all of us. And to think I killed Sarayu—’ he held up his free hand and shook his head sadly at it, ‘the love of my life, with my own hands.’ He looked up. ‘You made me. You made me.’

  ‘Whoa, Chanti, wait.’

  ‘You made me kill her!’ Chanti lifted his spade over his head with one hand and brought it down on Aravind’s head.

  Aravind lifted his own spade with both his hands and countered the blow. But just as the tools met with a clang, something drove into his shoulder and twisted. Aravind looked down and saw Chanti’s other hand holding a knife, with the blade completely driven into his flesh. He yelled in pain.

  ‘Yes! You feel the pain, do you? Do you not think she felt the pain when I slit her throat? You made me do it. How could you?’ He twisted the knife the other way. ‘Huh? How could you?’

  Aravind yelled again and pushed him away with all his might. Chanti staggered, but pulled on the knife so that it disengaged from Aravind’s shoulder. Aravind pushed himself into a standing position and kicked Chanti so that he hit against a tree. He held his spade in both hands over his shoulder, to his right.

  ‘Chanti, listen to what I am saying,’ he said.

  Snorting like a bull that had just seen red, Chanti shook his head, looking down at the bloody knife. His left hand was thrust out in Aravind’s direction, as though willing him to stop advancing at him.

  ‘Listen,’ Aravind said again. ‘Listen to what I am saying.’

  Chanti shook his head again and waved his arm frantically. ‘Go away!’

  ‘I need you to listen, Chanti. I need you to look at me.’

  Chanti’s breathing slowed a touch, and gradually, he looked up to face Aravind. When their eyes met, he had just enough time to see the swinging metal of Aravind’s spade come at him from the left and land plush on his cheek. He heard the beginning of a thud, which then got drowned out by a loud, siren-like sound coming from his throat.

  ‘I need you to listen, Chanti,’ Aravind said, bending down to pick up the knife that had dropped. ‘I need you to sit, and listen.’ He threw the spade away and held the knife in his right hand, pointing it at the other man. With his free hand, he plugged the hole in his left shoulder and grimaced. ‘Sit. And listen.’

  Chanti nodded stupidly and fell to his buttocks, leaning back against the wall, legs stretched out.

  ‘Good, now think about it. We only have evidence for one of the killings—and that is yours. We know that you killed Sarayu.’

  Chanti kept swabbing his cheek with his hand and staring at it, muttering something under his breath.

  ‘Chanti, are you listening?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I killed Sarayu, but you made me.’ Swab, stare, mutter. ‘You made me, but I killed her. Yes.’

  ‘And for no other death do we have any explanation. Any one of us could have done it. All of us had the opportunity, and in this case, opportunity is all that matters. We don’t have to have motive, because if she makes us do it, there doesn’t have to be a reason for it.’

  ‘Yes. No motive.’

  ‘But you’re the only one who had motive for killing Sarayu. You killed her because of jealousy—because she wanted me and not you.’

  He looked up at him curiously, like a monkey would look up at a ringmaster holding a whip. He covered his ear with one hand and tilted his head leftward at a grotesque angle. ‘Yes, she wanted you… I did so much for her—’

  ‘And it was you who spied on me and Seeta. It was you who told Sarayu about it. It was you, then, that made Sarayu go to Seeta’s house.’

  Again the curious look on the face, a frightened blink of the eyes, a swab of the cheek and a stare at the palm, a shake of the head.

  Aravind’s grip on the knife hardened, even as his balance wavered. He pushed harder down on the wound and shook his head forcefully. ‘You see, don’t you,’ he said, ‘you see that it was you who caused Seeta’s death.’

  The night seemed to have cleared a little. The air had become lighter and crisper. The white dome of the Shivalayam glistened as if it had been freshly washed.

  ‘And the first day we came here, I saw you and Chotu talking by the field. What did you tell him, Chanti? Did you tell him—did you suggest it to him maybe—that it was me who killed Ramana? Was that why he attacked me at the well?’

  Chotu shook his head and raised his finger, rotating it. ‘No, opposite. It was the opposite.’

  ‘Even if it was the opposite,’ Aravind said, ‘I don’t think you did anything to stop him from thinking that way. Did you?’

  ‘No, of course not. I did not know. I do
not know.’

  ‘You do not know what? That I did not kill Sarayu and Seeta?’

  ‘Yes… but you could have killed Seeta. And you did kill Chotu.’

  ‘I did not kill Chotu.’

  Chanti leaned back against the tree and groaned into the air, pressing his hand to his ear. ‘It hurts. It hurts so much. It’s so loud.’

  Aravind took a step closer. ‘I did not kill Chotu.’

  Chanti opened his eyes and eyed him fearfully. ‘Okay, you did not. I… I believe you.’

  ‘But you—you killed Seeta.’

  Chanti nodded, his gaze darting to the knife. ‘Okay. Yes.’

  ‘And you killed Sarayu.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’

  ‘And you were going to kill me now—just now.’

  Chanti tilted his head again and stared into the nothingness, blanking out in thought. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I was.’

  ‘We know you have caused—indirectly or directly—two of the four deaths that have occurred here. And you nearly caused the fifth too. Three out of five, Chanti, three out of five.’

  ‘Yes,’ Chanti said, with the same protracted stare. ‘Yes, you’re right.’

  ‘And you could have caused the remaining two. I am not saying you did, but you could have. You had the opportunity.’

  Fear returned to Chanti’s eyes. ‘But… but I feel no different, Aravind. I… I am not a bad man.’

  ‘None of us is bad.’ Aravind’s tone became slightly hesitant.

  ‘Will you take me away from here, Aravind?’ Chanti asked. ‘It hurts so much. Oh god, my ear hurts so much.’ He stared at his palm and shook his head. Let’s go away from here, Aravind. You were right all along. We don’t have to do this.’

  Aravind looked impassively at the fallen man. ‘Isn’t it a bit too late for that?’

  ‘No! It’s not!’ Then, in a lower voice, he said, ‘No, it’s not. Let’s get out of here. Palem can go to the dogs. Let’s go and save ourselves.’

  ‘Save ourselves?’ Aravind asked. ‘You want to save yourself after having killed three people?’

  ‘I… I don’t know, Aravind. Something came over me. Something very strange. It was as if it was a fire raging within. I wanted to slash her and slash her good, you know? Yes, slash that little neck and squeeze every drop of blood out of it—oh it hurts so much—take me away, please—’