Asan paused. We leaned forward, spellbound. The silence was too heavy to bear. Then he continued, his voice now soft and dangerous.

“So how long have you been planning to compete with me like this?” I asked him.

“Why would I compete with you? You think I am crazy or what?”

“Not crazy. Arrogant. Hey! Do you know that no one has ever dared challenge Asan?”

“You are the one stopping me from cutting down the tree.”

“Why would I stop you? I have been planning for a long time to cut down this blighted tree myself, but I had to figure out the right day and time for it. And here I am to do the job. You think you can steal the moment from me?”

He was thrilled when he heard that I had come to cut down the tree too. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?” he asked over and over.

“Do I have to repeat myself? Are you hard of hearing?” I shouted.

“You have really come here to cut down this tree? Truly?”

“No. I have come to shave your head,” I said.

“Asan!” he shouted, and fell at my feet.

At this point in his storytelling, Asan changed voices; he grew understanding, pliable.

“Aren’t you Muthu’s son, from Keezhacheri?”

“Yes, yes, that’s right.”

“Son, do you know who made sure your father got the lease for the Isanimangalam field from Emden Iyer?”

“My father told me.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That it was you who got it for him.”

“And did you know that it is only since then your father has been wearing those red-stone ear studs?”

“Mmm.”

“Did you know that it is only since then your father could afford some meat to his meals?”

“Asan . . . ,” Koplan said, shivering with gratitude.

“Not just that! It is I who got him the land lease that allowed your father to replace his thatched roof with new tiles.”

“Asan, please. Please don’t humiliate me anymore.”

“You loathsome fellow! You were about to bite the hand that embraced you? You decided to light the funeral pyre for Kaadukotthan Pichuva’s entire family? Hmm?”

“Forgive me, Asan! Please forgive me!” the boy screamed, and fell at my feet again.

The boy wouldn’t let go of my feet. I asked him to get up, but he wouldn’t. “Tell me you forgive me. Only then I will get up,” he said, and held my feet firmly.

I put my arm over the boy’s shoulder, gently led him away from the tree, and sat him down.

Koplan asked me: “Asan, why do you want to cut down this tree?”

“Son, take a good look at this tree. Do you know what it is?”

“It’s a tamarind tree.”

“You think this is some regular tamarind tree? You fool! It is poison through and through.”

“You are absolutely right, Asan!”

“So you had the same plan, then?”

“Yes.”