He held both his palms up and exclaimed ‘What a terrible thing, Govindappa!’, his face steeped in sorrow, almost ready to weep.

He was soft-hearted, very vulnerable. He could not bear a single bad thing. Even when he heard the part of the Ramayana where Rama tells a simple boatman, ‘You are my friend,’ tears would stream from his eyes.

He was a devout believer in Rama. He could sit with his thambura the whole day singing bhakti songs about Rama. When he crooned, ‘Rama namamu kalkandu …’—‘Rama’s name is like sugar cubes’—those listening would shiver with his passion.

‘Can we start?’ Govindappa Nayakkar asked Parthasarathy, and started when he got a nod.

Govindappa Nayakkar scanned the gathering, as if he was looking for someone in particular. The people looked back at him earnestly. He pinned his eyes on the fine-hearted Thiruvathi Nayakkar and motioned him to rise with his forefinger. ‘Untie him and bring him over,’ he said pointing to the front of the crowd.

Thiruvathi Nayakkar untied the man and brought him to the head of the gathering, drew a circle with his finger and stood him in it, then moved aside. The youngsters in the gathering sat up alert.

‘Who are you? Which town do you come from? What is your name?’ demanded Govindappa Nayakkar, in a strong voice.

He remained adamantly silent.

Govindappa Nayakkar commanded once again, this time his tone harsher.

Even then he stayed mum. There was a distinct chatter in the crowd. Some looked on with curiosity, some in anger, and others in shock. There were many checking him out keenly.

Suddenly a voice broke out of the crowd and said sharply, ‘Can you not hear the question? Just what do you think of yourself? Answer!’ The person stood up with a raised hand to slap the man and the youngsters got up too.

Govindappa Nayakkar put up a palm to cool them down. ‘Not one of you will lay a finger on him.’ He then turned to Parthasarathy. Of course, said Parthasarathy’s nod.

Then Govindappa turned to his younger brother, Krishnappa Nayakkar, and asked him to brief the gathering about what had happened.

Krishnappa Nayakkar rose up and narrated how he was going along the Madurai road to collect his stock, and how his cart heated up, and how he turned into Mangamma Road to the spring, hoping to cool it down, and then glimpsed the man.

‘I had a doubt when I first saw him. I thought I saw something very fishy, but wasn’t too sure,’ he said. ‘But when the goldsmith told me about his missing wife I sensed there must be some connection to this man. It was I who made him come out of the water. When he came out, I don’t know what I would have done to him …

‘When he came out I saw the terrible thing. From the way his big toe was chomped down, I guess he stomped down upon her in the water,’ finished Krishnappa Nayakkar.