Venkatammal had large beautiful eyes … eyes that were alluring even when she slept, with long, dark, sweeping lashes lining them like streaks of kohl. Perhaps the women in that town smudged their eyes with kohl to look like her. Two thick, curved eyebrows crowned her eyes from above.

The top lashes swept high, as if they were creased. One could gaze at those eyes for a whole day.

The party headed by Thachappa Nayakkar set off to Venkatammal’s town at once, and returned almost immediately. They did not bring her along. They came back, grinning widely, and offered only an ironic smile to the others who demanded an explanation.

Akkayya stood, looking innocent, in front of Mangaiathaar Ammal. She couldn’t stop her mirth every time she looked up at him.

‘Dey Akkayya, you are not a horrible person,’ she said. ‘That girl asked for it. You may go.’

Secret looks passed amongst the women gathered around, as if to warn each other that they’d better beware of him. People who knew how proud Venkatammal was approved of Akkayya’s prank. ‘Well sure, why not?’ they whispered.

12

ON ANOTHER DAY, GOVINDAPPA NAYAKKAR asked the crone, ‘So tell me, how did you escape from that Muslim raja?’

Mangaiathaar Ammal resumed her tale.

‘It was raining hard. My grandmother chanted loudly, “Govinda, Govinda …” as she forged ahead to the south and we followed, chanting behind her.

‘We were drenched, but relieved. The downpour wouldn’t stop. We cupped our palms to gather the drizzle and drink as we walked.

‘It seemed as if we were nearing a town. A little farther away there was a tall majestic sirissa tree; under it was a short figure with an umbrella made of screw-pine leaves. On his forehead was a naamam. He had a slightly flattened nose, his hair was piled high up, as large as a coconut. As we neared, he welcomed us, in Telugu. “Randi, Randi … come, come.”

‘Govindappa, what he told us next surprised us even more. “I learnt of your escape last night, in my dream. I’ve been waiting for you since the morning. Come along. Hurry up.” And he took us along.

‘There were over seventy of us. He gave us all dry clothes to change into, warm water to bathe in, tasty food, and led us to an empty granary to rest peacefully. We slept there for days together. “You have nothing to fear,” he told us.

‘But how long could we stay as guests in a stranger’s house? We were too scared of the Muslim raja to return to our native town. We decided to move farther south to some place where we wouldn’t be found.

‘Fate had cheated us, promising us a rosy light and suddenly turning us into homeless refugees. And now we were worried about what miseries would follow.

‘Kovaiyya, our host, sent us off with his good wishes. He gave us weapons to protect ourselves, utensils to cook with, grain as much as we could carry, extra clothes and blankets.