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A Ganesh Nadar

Of War and Peace

S Rajaratnam called the school from Madras and told the school headmaster, "I think Sivanthi Aditan will be the best person to be the chief guest for the school's golden jubilee function."

"Who will invite him?" the HM asked.

"Ask Prabhakaran, he is close to Aditan."

The HM contacted Prabhakaran, who contacted Aditan. Once Aditan agreed, Rajaratnam cleared it with the village sangam leaders in Bombay, Madras and Coimbatore and the invitations were issued. The names of the three sangam leaders were included in the invitation. Prabhakaran's name was added as he was doing all the arrangements. He was mentioned as the ex-panchayat president. The matter was sent to the press in Kurumbur.

The press guy, a close friend of Murugesapandi, immediately informed him. Murugesapandi was upset as he was the union councillor of the village. He called his brother in Bombay who called up the Madras sangam leader, Murugiah Nadar. Murugiah called Rajaratnam, who instructed the HM to add Murugesapandi's name. It was done.

A few weeks later, platform number 9 at V T station, Bombay, was buzzing with life. There were more than 50 people from Panickanadarkudieruppu there. The Nagercoil Express would leave at 12.15, taking the passengers to Tirunelveli, which is about 25 miles from PNK. The conversation centred around the school function. Some of the villagers had received letters criticising Rajaratnam's style of functioning. That was also discussed extensively.

The discussions did not reach any conclusion 39 hours later, as the train pulled into Tirunelveli at the unearthly hour of 3.15 am. This did not deter the villagers. As there were many of them, they just called tourist vans, bargained and then shared the fare. They were in the village by 4.30 am.

Murugiah asked Ganesh, "Who printed the invitations?"

"What invitation?"

"Don't act smart. You know I am asking about the school invitation."

"I just arrived from Bombay after a three week absence, how am I supposed to know anything? I was involved only in the golden jubilee magazine, let me know if you find anything wrong there."

"It is the golden jubilee of the primary school and they have not put the name of the primary school correspondent, Vel Nadar. I want to know who is responsible."

"Ask somebody else, leave me out of it," said Ganesh and hurried away.

The golden jubilee was just four days away and the magazine had not arrived. He was worried. As it is, the villagers were spoiling for a fight. He wasn't going to give them an excuse.

That night, at 10.45 pm, the temple was very crowded. Most of the villagers were there. The women were brightly attired and wore a lot of jewellery. Ganesh's brother remarked, "There must be enough gold here to rescue the Nadar Bank from ESSAR."

The band from Tirunelveli started playing. The Coimbatore sangam was sponsoring the show. Ganesh reminded Chandrasekhar anachi to make sure they played for three hours before he paid them.

The pooja started a little after midnight. None of the gods were clearly seen, they were decked with too many flowers. All the numerous, huge bells rang. The sound was heard for miles around. The band stopped playing. The pooja was conducted with camphor and with the chanting of mantras that nobody understood. It took all of an hour. People were sweating even though it was in the middle of the night.

The band started all over again. Coimbatore Chandrasekhar's younger brother sang a song. The villagers applauded because he belonged to them. Encouraged ,he sang the same song again. People started going home but most of the crowd remained. There were shops selling toys, flowers, drinks, tea and snacks. At a little distance, they were selling arrack.

At 4 am, the temple began to empty. Some people had fallen asleep. They went home the next morning. Bejewelled woman sleeping in the open were as safe as they would be at home.

At 11.30 am the next morning, the temple was crowded again. The number of kids, especially young girls, was surprising. The city girls were excited. The bells began to toll for the poor, hapless goats who had been spoonfed for the last three months. They were released in front of the temples.

A crowd encircled each animal. The priest sprinkled water on it. Everybody waited with baited breath. The goat had to shiver. Only then would the Gods accept your sacrifice. Otherwise, the goat would not be sacrificed. Most times, the goat shivered. If it did not, they poured more water on it. You had to make promises to the Gods if the goat continued to stand still. Some people promised bells, others gold, depending on their financial situation.

If the goat still refused, the priest bent down and whispered in the goat's ear and it shivered. Then the goat was lifted and banged hard on the ground. One person held the goat's legs. Another one closed its mouth tightly. The Gods did not the goats to scream in agony. Young girls gasped as the knife was held high in the air before it plunged in drew blood. A hand was inserted into the gaping hole to check if the heart had stopped beating. Only then was the carcass left alone.

A hundred goats met their maker that day. The goats were piled one above the other before the pooja started. Later, the villagers asked the head priest when it would rain. He said, "It will." He refused to elaborate; the villagers were quite disappointed. But nobody dared argue with the priest. He had been high priest for 60 years now.

There was a feast in every house. The feast culminated the temple festival.

Illustration: Dominic Xavier                                           Continued...