The Faith of Ashish (23 page)

"You naughty, naughty boys!" Sunita Lois cried.

Saji Stephen's face took on a look of great distress. He pointed to Ashish and said, "He did it! He wanted to play it. I told him to leave it alone, but he wouldn't listen to me. He dropped it on the floor!"

Parmar Ruth turned on Ashish in exasperation. "You are nothing but trouble! Saji Stephen brings you into our house to play with him, and you do this! Go back to your hovel and don't ever come back!"

"No,
Amma,"
Saji Stephen wailed. "He will be good. I want him to stay and play with me. I'll make him be good."

Parmar Ruth sighed. "You are a lucky boy to have someone as kind as Saji Stephen to look out for you," she said to Ashish. "I only hope you appreciate him and stop causing such trouble." She patted Saji Stephen on the head and hurried to resume her preparations. Behind her back, Saji Stephen smirked and stuck out his tongue.

"Your uncle chose well for us. Sunita Lois will have a good husband," Mammen Samuel said as he came up behind Boban Joseph.

The boy gave a start and blushed with embarrassment. He had been staring at Devi as she worked in the garden. All day he had tried to talk to her, but whenever he got close, she managed to pull away.

"The next wedding will be for you, my son. Already your uncle has been talking with the parents of a prize girl in the next village. Her landlord father is even wealthier than I. The girl is pure and lovely, and much younger than that common Untouchable over there." His eyes went to ten-year-old Devi. "Five years from now, your wedding will be the greatest event either of our villages has ever seen. You shall be paraded through the town on the back of a splendid elephant, not a scrawny beast like Saji Stephen's pet."

Boban Joseph's eyes glistened at the thought. It would be the most important day of his life. No more would he be bossed around and treated as a boy. Once he married, he would be respected as a man. He would be free to do whatever he wanted. But it would not happen for five more years, and five years was a very long time.

Mammen Samuel also smiled at the thought. What prestige such a marriage would bring to his family! And great security too. For when he had a well-married son, and his holdings were joined to those of a family with lands and cattle and riches far beyond his own, it would guarantee a comfortable old age for him and his wife. Of course, Boban Joseph would attend to them until their dying days. As eldest son, it was his sacred duty to do so.

In the early morning light, Ashish turned over on his bed of straw and reached out for Devi. "What's happening?" he asked.

"Hurry and get up!" Devi said. "They're getting the elephant ready for the bridegroom's procession."

It was the day before the wedding—the day to placate the evil spirits so that they would not harm the bridegroom. As Devi led Ashish out of the barn, they passed by the elephant groomers, already at work cleaning and decorating Saji Stephen's elephant. Two men painted intricate designs on its ears and legs. Others laid a brightly colored banner, studded with gold and jewels, over the animal's head. Fashioned to fit between its eyes, it reached halfway down its trunk.

"Is Saji Stephen going to ride the elephant?" Ashish asked.

"No," said Devi. "The bridegroom will ride it. All the way through town, and maybe even out to our huts in the settlement. And all along the way, he will throw out handfuls of coins."

"Money?"

"Yes. And anyone can pick it up. Maybe even your
amma
and
appa.
Maybe mine, too."

"And then the evil spirits will leave the bridegroom alone?"

"Yes. If he throws out enough money."

"He could throw some to us," Ashish said. "Oh, Devi, I wish he would throw some to us."

On the day of the wedding, Devi again roused Ashish early. Already Babu busily scrubbed Saji Stephen with a bucket of water that smelled of sweet sandalwood. He had a new set of pure white clothes to wear. Next came Ashish's turn. Using Saji Samuel's leftover water, Babu scrubbed Ashish from the tips of his muddy toes to the top of his gritty head. Fresh clothes awaited him too—though not new ones and not white ones.

"Don't you get a speck of dust on yourself!" Babu ordered Ashish. "If you do, I will beat you with a stick and make you wash these clothes until they are spotless!" To Saji Stephen he said, "Play inside and don't get dirty. If you do, it will make your
amma
very sad. And the evil spirits will come in the middle of the night and get you!"

Boban Joseph, already washed and dressed in his new clothes, went out to invite the bridegroom to the wedding. This would be his most important job.

"Otherwise, the bridegroom wouldn't even come," Saji Stephen explained to Ashish.

The bridegroom arrived like a king, sitting in a fancy chair with a fringed roof and two doors, carried on long wooden poles painted with gold paint.

"That's a palanquin," Saji Stephen told Ashish. "It's only for kings and very important people like my family. You must never ride in one."

Villagers crowded around to watch and to listen to the music.

"This has to be the best procession ever," Saji Stephen said. "Because
Appa
says people will talk about it for years. Only until I get married, though, because my procession will be much better. Better even than Boban Joseph's!"

Ashish and Saji Stephen sat stiffly on the couch in the great room and waited. When they heard voices out on the veranda, they jumped up and ran to watch.

"Your sister!" Ashish breathed. Sunita Lois wore a yellow
sari,
far fancier than any clothing he had ever seen.

"Those are her friends and our relatives crowded around her," Saji Stephen said.

Mammen Samuel Varghese, dressed in a white silk
mundu
and shirt trimmed with gold embroidered threads, raised his hands to receive his daughter. He picked up a silver cup and held it high for several moments before he put it to his lips and drank deeply.

"What was in the cup?" Ashish asked.

"Curds and honey," Saji Stephen said. "It brings good luck."

Ashish didn't see the actual wedding ceremony. When Parmar Ruth came to get Saji Stephen and take him out to the pavilion erected alongside the veranda, she told Babu, "Close that untouchable boy in a back room where he can't cause any trouble."

Ashish stayed alone in the room for a long time. Finally he lay down on the floor and went to sleep.

"Come!"

Ashish rubbed his eyes and looked around. For a minute, he couldn't remember where he was.

"Quickly!" Boban Joseph shook him awake. "Come with me. You must sit with Saji Stephen and keep him quiet."

More people than Ashish had ever seen in his life sat in groups on the floor of the pavilion. Everyone looked to be there, from clusters of upper caste people down to groups of Untouchables. As promised, they all sat on the floor together, an acceptable arrangement so long as everyone took scrupulous care to dip their hands only in their own caste's bowls of food. Also, as long as they positioned themselves in such a way so as not to cause them to gaze into the face of someone of a different caste.

But Ashish's eyes were not on the people. He stared at the food. Never had he seen so much! Never had he seen such a variety. Rice patty cakes of
idli
and big pancakes called
dosa. Chutney
and
sambar.
Plenty of fish and curds. Pitchers of
ghee
to pour over everything. Each dish had been prepared by Brahmin cooks, of course. That way, every caste could eat it.

"Over here," Boban Joseph said. He led Ashish to Saji Stephen who sat alone with bowls of food spread out before him. "Don't you get into trouble!"

As soon as Boban Joseph left, Saji Stephen said, "I don't want rice and vegetables. I'll get us something better to eat."

Saji Stephen jumped up and dashed over to a table off to the side, hidden behind a curtain. Ashish took the opportunity to dip his right hand into the bowl and grab a bite of
idli
and
chutney.
He smacked his lips and grabbed another bite. By the time Saji Stephen came back, his hands piled full, Ashish had popped a fifth bite into his mouth .

"Mmmmm,
ras-gola,"
Saji Stephen said.

He stuffed one of the soft, syrup-soaked cheeseballs into his mouth. "Taste one," he said as he grabbed another for himself.

The spongy sweet had to be the most delicious thing Ashish had ever tasted! It melted into sugary pleasure in his mouth.

But by the time Ashish finished eating his, Saji Stephen had already finished the other two. "I'll get some more," Saji Stephen said. He ducked behind the curtain and came back with his hands full again—and this time, dripping with sticky syrup.

"Your clothes!" Ashish cried in alarm. He pointed to the brown syrup that ran down the front of Saji Stephen's new shirt. "It will make your
amma
very sad, and the evil spirits will come in the middle of the night and get you!"

"Babu always says that, but it never happens," Saji Stephen said. He held the sweets out to Ashish. "Do you want some or shall I eat them all?"

Ashish put a second gooey sweet in his mouth, and Saji Stephen stuffed two more in his.

"What are you boys doing?" Parmar Ruth demanded. Her brow wrinkled and her eyes flashed in anger.

Saji Stephen started to cry. "Ashish grabbed these from behind the curtain," he mumbled as best he could through his full mouth. "I told him to stop taking them, but he wouldn't!"

"No," Ashish said. "No, I didn't." But he protested softly because of his strict orders not to annoy Saji Stephen.

"He put one in my mouth. I tried to stop him, and he spilled it all over my new clothes!" Saji Stephen accused.

Parmar Ruth didn't look convinced.

Suddenly, Saji Stephen wailed, "My stomach hurts! It's Ashish's fault. He made my stomach hurt!"

"You are a naughty boy!" Parmar Ruth scolded Ashish. "Go back to your home and don't ever come back again!"

Ashish jumped up and ran before Madame Landlord had time to change her mind.

A
shish ran all the way to his family's hut, still dressed in his fresh clothes and with his stomach filled with good food.

"I can't go back to the landlord's house anymore!" Ashish bubbled. "Not ever again! Madam Landlord said so! I don't have to play with Saji Stephen, and I don't have to go back to that house!"

As Latha picked up her laughing son and hugged him tight, Virat grabbed hold of his
chaddar
and pulled it off their piled belongings.

"Where's Devi?" Latha asked Ashish.

"I don't know. I followed the path by myself."

"Everyone is at the wedding dinner," Virat said. "If we hurry, we can get away before they come back."

Virat wrapped up the filled water jars and earthenware containers of rice and meal, together with the collection of small pots, in the middle of his
chaddar.
He stacked the large cooking pots together, taking care to leave the one holding all the baked
chapatis
on top, and tied them with a piece of fabric ripped from Latha's
sari.

Latha grabbed a small pot filled with water and mango leaves and set it down outside the door.

"No, no!" Virat warned. "The others will see that and know we are gone."

"But we dare not leave on a journey without looking back at a full pot," Latha said. "If we do not, fortune will not protect us."

"But we must not leave that pot by our door for all to see!"

Virat held his ground. So did Latha. In the end they agreed Ashish could stay behind at the hut, but only temporarily. Virat and Latha would walk away and pause to look back at the full pot, then turn and go on ahead. Ashish could throw the pot down and smash it, and run to catch up with them. That way, they would be safe but also protected by fortune.

Latha lifted the load tied up in the
chaddar
onto Virat's back. She pulled the ends of the strip of cloth forward, under his arms, then tugged them back up and around behind his neck where she tied the ends together. The other load, she lifted onto her own head.

"I can take the drying rack," Ashish said.

"We will leave it here for someone else to use," Virat told his son. "You and I can make another one when we need it."

They also left the spice and dried vegetable containers. Not the sleeping mats, though. Virat had rolled them up tightly, and he and Latha each carried one tucked beneath an arm.

Taking care to cross the threshold right foot first, taking care to breathe deeply as they passed from the house and to make certain the pot full of water and mango leaves was the last thing they saw, taking note that they crossed the threshold with the lucky number of two people together (Virat and Latha, since Ashish stayed behind), they turned their backs on Mammen Samuel Varghese's slave settlement.

"What day of the week is this?" Latha asked with a note of anxiety. "If it's Saturday, we should go to the west. The planet Saturn only looks eastward and so it cannot see us going to the west."

"It is not Saturday," Virat said. "Saturn doesn't care which direction we go."

The wedding pavilion rang with the sound of musicians playing flutes and lyres and sitars and drums, with joyful songs and dancers performing ancient dances. Cheers and laughter punctuated the merry-making.

So much food spread out! Enough for everyone, regardless of one's caste or standing in the village. So many specially prepared dishes! And, of course, the favorites—fish and rice and curds and fruit. Oh, and so many sweets.

"The entire village is here," one person after another after another exclaimed in amazement. "Mammen Samuel Varghese is a great and generous man."

Brahmin Keshavan and his son Rama were there, of course. They sat at the front of the pavilion, in a place of honor. The Brahmin officiated over the Hindu portion of the wedding ceremony, in fact. The Christian Bishop sat next to him at the feast, dipping his hand into the same bowl, for he, too, came from a high Brahmin family.

A simple melody, sung by a single voice, echoed through the pavilion. Temple music, it was. Of course, Mammen Samuel didn't call it by that name. To him it was simply Indian music.

The wedding feast lasted until late into the night. When the final dance ended and the singers had sung their last melody, Mammen Samuel stood before the crowd and called out, "Tomorrow I call a holiday for the entire village! No work for anyone!" Cheers rocked the pavilion.

Devi turned to look for Ashish. Where was he? She must get him to the barn for the night.

"He went home a long time ago and he isn't coming back," Babu said in answer to the girl's questions. "Saji Stephen is sick, and it's all the fault of that wretched child."

"He went to the settlement all by himself?"

"What difference does it make? He's gone. That's all I care."

But Ashish was Devi's responsibility. What if something happened to him? She ran all the way to Ashish's hut. "Is anyone here?" she called. "Ashish, are you here?"

No one answered. Virat and Latha must still be at the pavilion, she decided. Maybe they saw Ashish there and were sitting at the feast with him right now. Still . . .

Devi peeked inside their hut, squinting in the darkness. Something didn't seem right. She stepped inside and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark. The pots. That's what she noticed first. They were all gone. The food containers were gone too. Oh, and the water jars. And the sleeping mats. Devi looked around in confusion. Maybe she had stepped into the wrong hut. But that couldn't be. The animal skin drying rack still stood propped up against the wall. Only a
chamar
has use for such a thing. Only Virat.

Something had happened to Ashish and his family. It had to be something bad. And most certainly she would be blamed for it.

Devi ran back down the road screaming, "
Appa! Appa! Appa!"

"Can it be possible that they left?" Anup said as he looked over the bare hut. He walked outside and kicked at a broken dish which lay upside down beside the door. Three mango leaves lay crushed under it. "Yes, Virat and Latha are gone. Most certainly they took their child and left."

"You must tell Master Landlord immediately!" said Sethu.

"Two hundred additional people are in the village, and they will continue to be in the village for many days. No one will miss one skinny
chamar,
his half-blind wife, and their little boy for a very long time."

"Virat is your responsibility," Sethu insisted. "This very night you must tell the master what has happened!"

"Tonight is his daughter's wedding night. He will not want to be bothered with news of one
chamar.
I will tell him tomorrow."

In the dark hours of the early morning, storm clouds blew over the village and dumped out the rain they had held back throughout the day of the wedding. For three hours, it poured down in torrents.

Travel quickly, Virat,
Anup murmured in his mind as he listened to the beating rain.
Your footprints will be washed away.
Oh, but you must hurry!