Fiction & Nonfiction

The price of love

The price of love


“Hey Rupa, how about going home with me for holidays?” asked Nimmi.
I was thrilled at her invitation. As we walked towards our Economics class, we chatted, the sun warming us comfortably.
The copper in her black curls glinted, as she turned to me. “We both can have a lot of fun at Onam,” she smiled, opening new vistas of delight for me.
“Thank you so very much Nimmi! Of course I’ll go with you.”  I said happily, unable to believe my luck.

Her native village Sivapuram was on the Kerala coast. Thoughts of meeting the coastal folk with their boat songs, their simple living, filled my waking hours till we took off soon after our semester exams. With its scenic beauty, Kerala, a South Indian state, never failed to enchant me.

Visiting a new place was exciting for me because, there wasn’t much happening in my life at that time. I was living with an aunt in a central province. My parents were away in Muscat, Oman, chasing dreams of making more money. Nimmi’s company soothed me somewhat, and since joining college we became close friends, besides being classmates.

To our good luck, Onam, the great festival of Kerala, was celebrated during our term holidays. We couldn’t wait to go home, and enjoy the ten-day colorful festival. As ancient as the Arabian Sea, snaking along the Kerala coast, Onam drew Keralites of all communities and religions, as well as thousands of people from all over the country to come together.

Legend had it that Mahabali, an ideal demon king gave away his entire empire to Vamana, an avatar of Lord Vishnu, as charity. In return for his generosity, he was made the king of the underworld, and was allowed to visit his native Kerala once a year. His name Mahabali (Great sacrifice) was thus justified.
Welcoming him home is being celebrated as Onam, by the natives, since times immemorial.

On the afternoon on which we finished with exams, we started off. We preferred to travel by the beach road, for, it offered a grand view of the open sea, and a few ships in the anchorage. The white shore made me long for a relaxing walk on the beach. We could see giant fishing nets spread out on the white sand to dry. The coconut groves on the other side, swayed in the light wind. Their shadows were long and webbed into one another, in the slanting sunlight. The sea was a bit choppy.
As we neared our destination, we noticed a few fishing boats along the small dock, ready for the next day’s fresh catch. The red sun had started sinking. As if on cue, the western sky burst into a range of colors, filling me with wonder as ever. 

It was dark by the time our horse buggy stopped at the brightly lit mansion. Riding in an enclosed trap-like structure, with its clear rear view was great fun. En route, we saw some villagers, busy in domestic chores, fetching water from the deep well at the end of the street or cooking evening meal or just relaxing outside their small dwellings with their families. It felt strangely peaceful after the busy city life.

“Come in children. How was the trip?” enquired Nimmi’s dad, welcoming us in.
“It’s Ok Appa (Dad), all’s fine. Where’s Ma?” asked Nimmi, eagerly.
After discarding our shoes on the veranda outside, we washed our feet at the tap outside the threshold before going in.
“Come in Nimmi, oh, hello Rupa!” said Nimmi’s mom, hugging us warmly.

“How’s the city girl doing?” rang an attractive voice. A handsome young man came out from an adjacent study, with a half smile.
“When have you come Yogesh?” asked a completely stunned Nimmi, looking at the tall, virile guy.
“Oh, nothing can stop me from the boat race.” His tone was impervious.
“Ready with your antics I suppose,” Nimmi teased, looking at him askance.
“Much to your pleasure!” he retaliated cheerfully.

We were such great company!
The memory of those beautiful days, spent in trekking, swimming and sight seeing remained fresh on my mind.

I noticed a clear change in Nimmi’s manner. Excitement of some kind, and a jubilant mood took over her. It seemed a bit strange to me, considering her generally balanced disposition.
The two were inseparable, arguing all the time. She was unusually chirpy. Her longing to talk, and despite fights, spend time with Yogesh, was quite confusing to me.

A doctor by profession, Yogesh had a job in Trivendrum, the state’s capital. While young, he and Nimmi went to same school. Their families knew each other, having lived in the same neighborhood for years. Yogesh and Nimmi, never agreed on anything, her mother told me. 

Arrangements for the festival were already on. By the waterfront, a bit away from sea, colored canopies were raised, and a stage for religious ceremonies in the morning, and variety entertainment in the evenings, was put up. Sivapuram, and the ten villages around were deeply involved in the preparatory arrangements.

Yogesh was helping wherever he was needed, I observed. Nimmi was with him all the time making fun of him or doing just the opposite of what he wanted her to fetch or do.

We had fun watching traditional dances, puppet shows, mask presentations and classical music concerts.
“ They should have arranged some disco dancing too,” Yogesh complained, as we ate in one of the tents used for serving a variety of native cuisine.
“Are you mad? This is a traditional event, for godsake!” Nimmi said vehemently.
“What is wrong with it? Can’t opposites come together?” he probed, raising his eyebrows.
“Yogesh! Please stop arguing.”
“You don’t have an answer, do you?”
She walked off in a huff.

“Come on Rupa, I’ll buy you some ice cream” he would offer.
“Hey Rupa, let’s have those spicy smoking patties for a change.” Nimmi would drag me with her.
If she wanted to go on a walk along the picturesque beach, he preferred to go to the amusement park built for the occasion. I was having a grand time anyway, getting the best of both.

A day before the boat race, an important event among celebrations of Onam, the ceremonial worship of Lord Vishnu was performed with fervor. His blessings were sought for the safety of the boats, and the men riding them. The boats, thirty of them in all, were launched on that day. It was a forty-kilometer-long race, with each boat designed to carry about one hundred and fifty people. There were oarsmen, helmsmen and some singers too. The last group was meant to boost the enthusiasm and energy of the oarsmen. My enthusiasm, however, was on the high from the outset.

By ten O’clock on the next day morning, the excitement of the boat race was in the air. Almost the whole population turned out dressed in their Onam best, to witness one of the most important of the festive events of the year. The decorated boats were lined up in readiness for the start signal.
“ Ok girls, bye for now. We’ll meet in a few hours”, said Yogesh cheerfully.
“All the best Yogesh!” I wished him spiritedly.
For some reason, Nimmi fell silent. There were tears in her eyes, as she tried to avoid eye contact with Yogesh and me. Winking mischievously at us, he walked away. We watched him taking his place among the helmsmen who were to direct the movement of the boat.

All along the coast, there were cheering crowds, the aerial observers announced. The crucial turn for the racing boats would be the meeting point between the sea and the river. The notorious rapids at that juncture, posed a threat to the boatmen. One mistake by one oarsman can upturn the boat, and disaster would be imminent with so many navigators aboard. 

The race started by eleven in the morning. The spectacularly long, and snake-shaped boats cut through the waves. The rise and sink of the oars flowed in unison with the rhythm of the sea and song. What a mesmerizing sight!

The winning party was expected to be announced by late evening. We waited eagerly by the waterfront.

Shocking news at five in the evening! Yogesh’s boat met with an accident. I was stunned at the sudden announcement. I turned to say something to Nimmi. I stopped at mid-sentence. Nimmi was looking crazed! Suddenly, she started screaming for rescue. She ran along the shore towards the dock and like one possessed, jumped into one of the four boats in the dock, and started paddling into the open sea. Fishermen, who were shocked to see one of their boats being turned towards the sea, ran alongside and one of them jumped into the boat. A few more followed them in other boats.

I was speechless! Why did she do it? She never appeared this devoted to Yogesh!
No, it can’t be mere concern that induced her into a whirlwind-like action. It must be something more vital than that.

My mind was in turmoil. What happened to the lot of them? My own worry started reaching a feverish pitch.

Darkness started falling on a desolate group. No one paid attention to the result of the boat race. Nimmi’s parents were inconsolable. Food and drink were far from our minds.

A few people still lingered under the colorful awning. We sat around dispiritedly.

After what seemed an eternity, some voices were heard from across the sea. We were jolted out of stupor-like condition. The pale moon showed us dark silhouettes moving towards us. As the boats neared, we noticed Yogesh and Nimmi clinging together on one of them.

I silently thanked Mahabali for bringing them back safely from what Yogesh told us later, a vortex!

“I had to jump after the oarsman who lost his balance and slipped off the short edge into the rapids. I could manage it without tilting the boat because I was in the center. I couldn’t stop an entire boat for fear of losing the race. I couldn’t spot the man for a few minutes in the churning turbulence. When I got hold of him, he was semi-conscious. Somehow I held on to him; towed towards the shore, which was quite close by thankfully. I didn’t even know the name of the small fishing hamlet we reached. Those guys, God bless them, helped us dry our drenched, tired bodies, and fed us some hot soup”

By then Nimmi was back to her normal self. She told us of what happened after she impulsively took off the shore.

“Before our boats had reached the danger point, we were met by the men from the village to which Yogesh and his boating buddy swam to. Luckily for us, they spotted us. They told us of the incident of the two guys reaching their shore shortly before dark. I realized, my prayers were answered.”

By six next morning, we were still on the beach chatting, relief still seeping into our minds and bodies. As we sipped warm tea, we watched the fog disappearing with the first rays of sunlight breaking through the veil of clouds.

“Yogesh, we must compensate for the shock and the sudden onslaught I made on those poor fishermen’s boats.” Nimmi’s concern was understandable.
“What boats?” he asked, a mischievous grin crinkled his eyes.
“Let me beat you first and then tell you about the boats.” She chased after him along the shore.
Finally, it dawned on me that perhaps they were made for each other. Weren’t I naive?


Word count:1936