Rasamma burst through the cow shed to the west, tearing her way through a line of huts. She sprinted over a cow dung pit and leapt over the slope of a house. The shouts of ‘catch her, catch her’ reverberated through the neighbouring huts. The women who had seen it all waved their arms as if to catch her, urging her to make a quick getaway.

Rasamma stepped out of the village and started running. She soon encountered the Pazhayar River, which had been flowing for ages. Originating in the northern mountains, it wound its way through Nanjilnad, (a historical region in India corresponding to present-day Thovalai and Agastheeshwaram of Kanyakumari district.), before reaching the eastern sea. When she felt the river reach her ankles with its chill water, she slowed down and relaxed. She leaned against one of the pillars of the stone bridge that crossed the river. This bridge was as strong as the Cauvery Kallanai Dam built by Karikalan (the Chozha emperor). Although she couldn’t see them, Rasamma could hear people running along the road, carrying spears and pikes.

Rasamma crept through the thazhai (Pandanus fascicularis) trees on the river basin, jumping amongst the reed plants, and winding her way through the heaps of Oonaan (Ipomoea staphylina) creepers, startling the red quails and sparrows who flew away in fear and causing the wild cats to leap into the trees. She walked, crawled, and rushed along the river path for ten or twelve miles, like a tortoise, a rabbit, or a squirrel. Exhausted, she eventually emerged from the river path onto its banks, breathing heavily.

Not knowing where to go, she was blinking in confused way. A natural fear of life made her turn on all four sides. She stood like a thorn tree, her arms bent like weapons, her teeth bared, as if to change her fear to threaten others passed that way.

She was perplexed and had no idea what had happened – whether it was due to a lack of consciousness, depression, fatigue, or death. Her life had gone through tumultuous times, and now she was there alone calmly – but she had no answers. It felt as if she were living without her body, or as if her body remained active even though her life had ended.

She gradually regained her composure.

She was filled with anger at the way her life had become a sham and a tired old tale. In a single night, she wished to cut her aunt’s son – the source of her plight – into two. At the same time, she was overcome with sadness as she had no idea where to turn.

Without any sense of direction, Rasamma walked in the opposite side. Her aimless stroll was a reflection of her inner turmoil; her heart was pounding as if it was ready to burst.

Eventually, her feet led her to Kottar market (Kottar: a locality and a bazaar area of Nagercoil, Tamil Nadu state, in the southern most part of Peninsular India ; though a part of Nagercoil today). The sounds of the bazaar filled her ears; skirmishes and scuffles echoed in the air. She remembered like a scene from a mythical story, that a group of Christian women fought for the right to wear a thol-seelai (saree for shoulders). The sight filled her with newfound life, and she watched the market intently.

(will end in next part..)

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023 by https://www.theblogchatter.com/