Engachchi always felt that the women sang her praises rather too much. Once, during one of her visits, they compelled her to join them in their meal. The men had already been fed and it was time for the women to eat. Not able to resist the kind invitation, she joined the women. She waited until the curry was served to taste her first mouthful.

At once she called out, ‘Seethamma, bring the dish of curry with some taste stones.’

The curry and the salt jar were brought. She took out some salt with four fingers of her left hand and then let a little drop. Just a few grains. She dropped the salt into the dish, mixed the curry with the ladle, then served some on her plate and asked for it to be passed on to the rest.

Wonder of wonders, now the curry tasted like manna from heaven—not like the everyday curry at the Kottaiyars’ and just a pinch of salt had created this wonder. Who was it who named salt the taste stone?

‘Engachchi Akka, tell me the truth,’ demanded Seethamma, ‘you didn’t add salt to my curry. Instead you passed the salt in front of my eyes, and did some magic to it.’

Engachchi could make magic with even wild leaves, converting them into the tastiest dish ever made. Govindappa Nayakkar loved his greens; they were next to god to him! He’d click his tongue and declare, ‘Wait until Engachchi makes a dish with these greens.’

35

AS THE SPARROWS FLEW AWAY, Seeni Nayakkar took another good sniff at the curry leaves and started to eat.

Engachchi sat next to him and as he ate, served him more, admiring him enjoying his food. She took great pleasure in serving him more and more even after he was satiated. It was so for everything, not just food.

Engachchi had low self-esteem because she was dark in complexion. It wasn’t as she if she was black as coal, only that when she was with the women of the Kottaiyar house, she seemed darker. Otherwise there was nothing exceptionally good or bad about her complexion.

She fell in love with Seeni Nayakkar’s shiny golden complexion. ‘Can’t you give me some of your colour?’ she’d beg sticking her palm to his.

Even fair complexions come in different shades—fairness that could make you swoon, that could scare you, that could threaten you, that could slap you on your face …

Though she was insecure about her colour, Engachchi never tired of gazing at Seeni. She caressed his skin gently with her hands. The areas that weren’t tanned were fairer still. She’d rub her nose, press her cheeks, or gently rub her fingers against those parts. In those moments, she would forget herself in the ecstasy and address him in Telugu. ‘Ohne!’

He’d fondly carry her, place her on his left shoulder, like a small child, hug her feet with his left hand, swing his right and walk with pride.

Every time he carried her like this, she’d giggle in a special way. At times, he’d offer to do this only to hear that giggle. ‘I’m going to carry you like this and hop.’ She’d giggle and slowly slip down from his shoulder, and when her body would brush against his as it came down the erotic pleasure was evident!