The Unnamed

    South Kerala, especially Palakkad, is popular for the lush green paddy fields and palm trees that which produces sweet toddy, the naturally made alcohol. There used to be a surge for demand for toddy on special family occasions and festivals. "Chaami Ettan" was a man on demand on these days at my ancestral home. Young uncles to elderly Karanavars called out for him. Chaami was given contract of the palm trees, to extract toddy, for decades. 

    Chaami was a thin black man with a row of yellow teeth, stained with beetle leaves he constantly chewed. I have often wondered about the easiness with which he climbs up the rugged palm trees and the pace with which he slides down the tree. He is often heard and not seen as most of the time he stays hidden behind the palm leaves busying with his task of tapping the palm wine. He loves children, smiles at them and keeps them happy by offering the juicy palm fruit thereby sacrificing his source of wine and income.

    Regardless of age, everyone called him Chaami Ettan. I have heard my great granny chiding my uncle for addressing him thus instead of calling him by his name, Chaami". I also remember my uncle's answer that they are taught to address elder ones with "Ettan" following their names. I learnt later that Chaami belonged to the marginalized community and hence his service shall be sought but not to be considered as one among us! What an irony!

    Memories stirred up when I was reading Bama's Karukku, this day. Unlike many autobiographies, Karukku, adopts a non- linear form of narration with an unnamed narrator.  Karukku, the autobiography of a Dalit Christian woman reflects on the notion that discrimination is prevalent not only between the higher and the lower classes, but between the 'same' category of people. She elaborates on the means by which she attempts to escape from the shame of her birth by converting to Christianity. She finds herself no longer at ease even after her attempts to find solace under a new roof. Reader finds himself thunder-struck when the Parayar and Chaliyar community duel on their rights on a public cemetery.

          The unnamed narrator pursues education to overcome this frightening plight of the whole low-born community. Her relentless efforts for the upliftment of her people is the crux of the prose. Will education uplift them? Will the so called high-born and ‘educated’ category of people accept them as they are? Is getting education a potion to such mental disorders?

          ‘Yes’, I would say. I remember those instances when my dad used to boast of the taste of the dishes brought by his colleague who belonged to such a category by birth. I also remember my mother being scolded because she screwed her face at his comments. I would also love not to remember anyone by their birth but by their person!

  Ms. Saritha. K, Assistant Professor & Head, Department of English, Al Shifa College of Arts and Science, Kizhattoor, Perinthalmanna