Sunday, August 16, 2020

Essence of Life (Jeevarasam)- Kalki Krishnamurthy

JEEVARASAM

(ESSENCE OF LIFE)

-KALKI KRISHNAMURTY

A translation from the Tamil original by T.C.Venkatasubramanian

 

A long time ago I was an eighteen-year-old youngster, studying M.A. in an arts institution. Sadly, exams were approaching and I was someone who always desired to pass with first class honours. Much later did I realise the folly of this thinking.

A week’s holidays were given to the students before the exams so that they could study in peace. Based on my previous experience, I was pretty sure that the holidays would be futile if I remained in the city. One could stay in the city if the questions were about coffee houses, cinema, plays or card games but these ghastly exams always ask about Darwin and Shakespeare, don’t they?! So as I wondered what to do, a brilliant idea struck me.

I decided to stay at a village close to the city where I would thoroughly study all the subjects for my exams during the week. So, one fine morning, I promptly took a bath, dressed, packed my Darwin and Shakespeare along with some change of clothes and embarked on a journey. Reaching the railway station, I browsed the list of places to which one could buy a ticket. About four or five stations from the city was a village called “Thamaraiveli” (Fence of Lotus). The name was so beautiful that I immediately bought a ticket to that station and boarded the train.

As the train chugged along, my imagination too leaped ahead. Thamaraiveli! wow, what a lovely name! The village would be beautiful as well. The burble of a river flowing nearby, a large pond brimming with lotus and lily blossoms, coconut groves, mango trees, banana orchards, cottages, two small temples, ah! what a quiet place to study! It’s true that there won’t be any hotels but so what?! One could just knock on any door and ask for food in a village. Once I introduce myself they will be more than happy to feed me.

 The train thudded to a stop. I quickly got down and was immediately disappointed. My expectations proved to be just castles in the air. There was a river but it was dried out, a pond existed without any lotus or lilies. A coconut tree that must have been hit by lightning recently stood there bereft of any coconuts. There was no sign of any mango tree. Tamarind trees were aplenty. A solitary temple lay in ruins. Instead of gardens all one could find were garbage patches. A local arrack shop, a coffee bar, a cigar shop and a school where the master was teaching “Arrrrrithmetic” in the strongest possible manner. Even then I did not give up hope and decided to stay in the village until the next train came along. There was no other option either.

For all its faults it was still a village. What a wide open field! That lovely green grass, uniformly spread soil! And look here, where do we get to see such cactus?! It was wrong on my part to have hastily concluded that village life was a humbug. One could always sit on the grass in that field and study in peace for sometime. But need to quench my thirst before that, my throat was parched. A coffee club, err.. a coffee club in a village like this? Will ask for a glass of buttermilk from any house nearby.

I entered the village. A house tucked in the corner caught my eye. It was a small, dilapidated one. “It’s always better to go to a poor man’s house. One can ask for a glass of buttermilk offering quarter anna”, thinking this I reached the house. A board read “Lalitha Vilas”, the door was locked. Could see something written on the outer wall –“Attention: Royal Representative Lord Irvin, you need to remit the Rupees Two Lakhs owed by you to the crown within one week of the receipt of this notice, failing which a recommendation to dismiss you from your position shall be issued”. Another ruling informed about transfer of Chennai High Court judges to various parts of India. In between these notices were inscribed the words “Essence of Life”. I felt that my village sojourn wasn’t a waste. There was something strange about the place. With this feeling I knocked at the door.        

The door opened shortly. In order of appearance -A black cat, followed by a rabbit, then a dog and finally the face of an elderly man. Then his entire body stepped outside. Whoa! How old is this man? A long, flowing white beard; a knee length pristine white tunic; spectacles; Kumkum on his forehead; an imposing presence! I assumed that he was a yogi belonging to the Brahmagnana sect meditating here.

“Yes son, what do you need?” he enquired. “Apologies for the trouble, Sir. I am very thirsty. Just came here to ask if I could get some buttermilk” I said.   

“Butter-buttermilk? Oh, buttermilk! yeah buttermilk, right, sure, come in” he said.

I grew a little suspicious but followed him nevertheless. Just as I looked around the place my fears grew manifold. Because there was so much strange stuff lying around. An old almirah with countless glass jars; a broken desk upon which were devices like test-tubes; old, torn books strewn around in all corners; a pair of cats; four rabbits; a dog and a rat cage among others. The old man poured some buttermilk from a jar and gave it to me. I did not have the nerve to reject the offer, so drank it. Suddenly I hit upon an idea.

“Are you some kind of a chemistry expert?” I asked assuming to have unearthed his secret.

“What? What? Chemistry? No! Ha Ha Ha ! I am an Alchemy expert, alchemy! An alchemist, alchemy, alchemy, alchemy”.

Now I knew for sure that the old man was a lunatic and slowly took a step to escape from that house. But the old man caught hold of my hand, whispering into my ears as if letting me in on a big secret. What he said was,

“Do you know? I have found the ‘Essence of Life’! It’s the distilled life-source of one lakh life forms! Yes, one lakh life forms! Each life equals hundred years, one lakh lives is therefore one crore years, a crore years’ worth of lifespan is enclosed within this bottle!”

Saying this the old man took a small bottle out of his desk. Now I was wondering how to escape the clutches of this crazy person.

“Fine Sir, I need to catch a train. Thanks for the buttermilk, here’s some money….” I said haltingly.

“You are a good kid. Listen to me, take one bottle, it is the distilled power-source of one lakh life forms, a lifespan of one crore years” the old man started describing the ‘Essence of Life’.

It seemed the only way out of the conundrum. “How much?” I asked.

“It usually costs three rupees. You are a good boy, so for you, just two rupees”

Two rupees for a glass of buttermilk seemed like a good deal, right? Given the mental state I was in at that time, I would have given him all the ten rupees I had on me if he had demanded.

As I exited the house, my eyes caught something written at the bottom of the wall, “Looney old man”. My pace automatically quickened. I went straight to the station. People there gave the news that a train had just left and the next train would take another three hours to reach the station. “Oh dear God” I sighed and sat on grass patch in the field with some bananas I had bought from a shop at the station. The sky was overcast. Wanting to salvage something for the time spent, I thought of studying for a while. Before that just I glanced at the bottle. Then took a deep breath, kept it aside and started reading the book about Darwin’s theory. It was quite interesting explaining the evolution of species and origin of human beings from monkeys.

It was so absorbing that I started feeling pleasantly drowsy. “Damn! Should not fall asleep” I swore to myself rubbing my eyes just as I heard some footsteps and looked up. Who do you think stood there? The same Lord Anjaneya about whom I was reading in the book! The monkey was accompanied by a man. A harmonium hung on his neck. The monkey wore a shirt and a cap. “Did we originate from this animal? Darwin seems like a bigger lunatic!” I felt.

“Good Morning Sir” the monkey’s master wished me. He must have observed that I was somehow interested in his monkey.

 “Hanuman, salute the sir!” he ordered. The monkey obliged.

“Would Sir like to hear some music?” the monkey trainer asked

“No” I said emphatically. I hate the sound of harmonium. The same instrument from a house adjacent to my city hotel that used to ruin my studies is about do it in a place I chose to study in peace, really?

“Sir will reward Lord Hanuman with a quarter anna while I play the instrument” chimed the man.

“Neither would happen!” I exclaimed.

“In that case Sir will give half anna while I don’t play the instrument” the man retorted.

Saying that he gave a nudge to the monkey’s ribs that came running to me extending his cap.

Another defeat. I fished in my pocket for some change. By that time the monkey’s attention had been diverted to the bananas next to me. At that moment, a great idea occurred to me. Why not feed the old man’s miracle extract to this monkey and test it?!

Quickly I peeled a banana, poured some of that liquid from the bottle on it while the monkey’s master wasn’t looking and fed it to Mr.Monkey. Also threw half-anna into the cap. The very next moment the monkey landed on his master’s shoulders while the banana landed in his belly. The man left that place praising my largess. “Phew..that’s it ? nothing else!” I thought heaving a sigh of relief and getting on with my studies.

But then I looked up hearing the man argue with his monkey after only walking a short distance. Oh dear, what an odd sight? Where is the old monkey? Where did this large monkey come from? Did the monkey trainer do some trick and conjure a new one? No, that’s impossible. Because the man looked as astonished as I was. He lowered the monkey to the ground and started speaking something to it in Hindustani.

I rubbed my eyes and looked again. The new monkey had grown three times the size of the old one. It was growing by the minute and its appearance was changing as well. Now its height had almost reached the master’s chest. The back wasn’t bent anymore and its legs had started straightening. But the cap remained the same and so did the shirt. But when the body expanded, that shirt ripped apart. So, there was absolutely no doubt that it was the same monkey. I was looking at this miraculous event with my mouth agape.

Just as the monkey or ex-monkey grew to the man’s shoulder height and started looking at his face with a puzzled expression, he could not take it anymore. Crying “Oh Lord! Ya Allah!” he abruptly dropped his harmonium and started running, leaping across the station fence, rails, the nearby canal barely looking back. But I just sat there as if bound by some magic looking at this extraordinary event unfold right in front of my eyes. Once the trainer disappeared, the ex-monkey slowly walked towards me. He looked like a caveman now. His shirt had been torn to shreds and all he had was a cap on his head. 

This peculiar creature stood in front of me gazing intently. I felt that I had to please this thing somehow. Thinking that I gave him the entire banana bunch. The monkey made a noise “Up up  up”. Even though I replied “Is it? Good!”, I was terrified inside.

The monkey man sat in front me on the grass. He said “kick kick kick” and then “eck eck eck”. After that he made a sound “vak vak vak” as if trying to enquire something with me.

That’s when my mind started working. What is this strange happening? Utterly amazing! How did this happen? Is this the effect of that old man’s liquid extract? That essence could only extend lifespan. It is the distilled life-source of one lakh life forms. A lifespan of one crore years, Darwin’s Theory, oh! Got it! That old man was no lunatic, he was a great alchemist. This essence doesn’t just perpetuate life, it’s a potion that feeds life’s growth. One lakh years’ worth of growth in just quarter of an hour! Oh, what a miracle!

But my happiness in having discovered this miracle didn’t last long. Because the situation was evolving every minute, amazing me more and more. At that juncture, I understood that the monkey man was trying to speak.

He pointed at the vial containing “The Essence of Life” squeaking “in in in”

After some struggle he said “In in innum konjam” (some more in Tamil)

I remembered the claim of a Tamil aficionado that Tamil was the first language spoken by human beings in the beginning of time. And thought it could be the truth. But it wasn’t the right time to delve deep into that subject. A panic set in thinking what would happen if he drank some more of the essence. So I tried getting up taking the bottle away with me.

But my efforts proved futile. A strong hand held me in place. With his other hand the monkey man grabbed the vial and drank the remaining essence. Then he opened my suitcase, took some of my clothes, wore them and sat down. My mind was swirling like the waters of a temple pond during a festival. To save it from completely collapsing, I started thinking about the city, university, professors and the like. I suspected even my science teacher would not have been able to manage this predicament.

“That’s great” said the monkey man in chaste Tamil. Then he looked at me as if I were some peculiar creature remarking “Hey, you seem quite old fashioned”

I never imagined a dancing monkey would call me “old fashioned”. That remark completely flabbergasted me. That’s when the book about Darwin slid from my lap.

“Oh, that dead English language?” he noted. Every minute his appearance kept changing in tandem with my increasing amazement. His old caveman looks had vanished. His body had considerably slimmed and looked better. The head had bloated enormously. So were his eyes while his mouth had contracted significantly. Fingers had grown leaner and longer. The only remnant of pervious monkey existence was the cap that still adorned his head.

Immediately on remembering that fact, I started thinking for a minute. I understood that his growth was happening at a rapid pace. The monkey had become a caveman, the caveman into a present day human and from that to a futuristic man. Now on seeing him, an involuntary sense of awe and respect arose within me.

“My apologies” the words seem to slip out of my mouth by themselves. I myself didn’t quite understand what the apology was for.

The futuristic man lifted the book and claimed “Oh! Darwin belonged to the mechanical age. To some extent he did predict our growth. Still, people of that age were generally stupid. That’s why they fought and killed each other!”

“True, you’re right” I concurred. Amidst all this mental confusion, I felt a little happy. The reason being that in the future all humans would speak only Tamil language.

 In a flash a bright idea occurred to me. Wouldn’t it be a great to write down the things this advanced man tells about the future? By doing that I can even give the university professors a run for their money. Immediately I took out a notebook and pencil from my pocket.

“Oh, the art of writing! It’s been forgotten for over two lakh years, hasn’t it? wondered the man from the future.

At once, as if struck by a new thought he looked at me keenly and asked “Who are you?”

He started observing me the way scientists do with bugs and bees. A sudden panic set in me. Thank heavens, he is not a barbarian anymore. I can escape at the least.

I got up and ran. But after running a few yards, my feet stopped by themselves. I looked back reluctantly. The man from the future stood there. An invisible force caught me by the scruff of my neck and made me sit in front of him. Now I clearly understood the reason for his derogatory remarks about physical strength.

By that time his head and eyes had bulged much more. His eyes shone with a magnetism. He didn’t speak thereafter. But his commands made a better impression on my brain.

“Remove your cap and give it to me” he gave a telepathic command.

“No” I said aloud. But my hands gave him the cap. That quiet man placed the cap on top of his head that was big as a hall. Then he gave his monkey cap to me.

“Wear it on your head” came the next command.

I wore it, all the while saying no to him.

“Keep your hat on the left hand and salute me with your right hand” he ordered.

Oh dear, this is atrocious! He is training me the same way humans train monkeys and dogs!

“No way” I said gritting my teeth. Nevertheless, my left hand lifted the cap and right hand saluted him.

“Salute again”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. Yet I saluted.

“Get up and dance”

Shame! Shame! Lo and behold I got up and danced.

“Enough, sit”

I sat down. I wished his next command would be “Die now”. What a nasty surprise, the next command bellowed “Die now”.

Crying “ I will not” , I fell on my back. The futuristic man’s huge, terrifying face came near mine. His long, lean fingers lingered on my face. Utterly terrified, I closed my eyes.

After a long struggle, I slowly opened my eyes. The small monkey was sitting on my chest, giggling. I looked around. The monkey trainer was playing some notes on the harmonium that sounded like a buffalo grunting. Banana peels lay by the side. Oh God! Was this all just a dream? Swiftly I got up and sat there. The small monkey that fell from my chest chirped “kick kick kick”.

“Sir will reward Lord Hanuman with a quarter anna while I play the instrument” chimed the man.

“How long have you been standing here” I asked him.

“Sir, for almost 15 minutes! My rotten luck today, haven’t made a paisa since morning. Wasted almost an hour in that lunatic’s house. And you, you dozed off during the day”.

The moment he mentioned “lunatic” I looked nearby. The monkey had just about started to open the bottle containing “Essence of Life”. “Oh, no!” I cried, grabbing the bottle and throwing it away. Had had enough of the village life and hurried towards the station. The monkey looked at me intently and started shouting “vak vak vak”.

“No” I said sternly with a salute.

                                                             ***************************** 

Note:

Kalki R Krishnamurthy (1899-1954) is one of the greatest writers of India who wrote primarily in Tamizh. His historical epics Ponniyin Selvan, Sivagamiyin Sapatham, Parthipan Kanavu, social novels like Alaiosai, Thyaga Bhoomi, over 100 short stories and numerous essays continue to enthrall generations of readers. A patriot, who used his pen to fight the mighty British empire, he was a multi-faceted genius producing music & film criticism, travelogues, satire and plays in addition to weaving amazing stories based on historical and contemporary events. This short story stands out due to its science fiction elements, probably written in the 1930s or early 40s when the genre was 'alien' to many Indian readers, showcasing his effortless blending of the tropes with some biting satire and wry humour. I am yet to ascertain the exact year of publishing.  

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalki_Krishnamurthy


1 comment:

Anand K said...

Good choice of story and good translation. Keep up the good work!