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Rumour has it that his
wife saw him applying soot on their baby’s beautiful white face.
Karuttappa did not believe
his mother. His father would never do such an unimaginable thing. Why would a
father colour his 1 year old baby girl’s face with dirt? No, it was certainly a
lie formulated by his hallucinating mother. The rumour spread like wildfire
across the village but Karuttappa never believed his mother. She never truly
loved her husband.
Karuttappa was as dark
as the moonless night in which he was born. By the time he could walk, he was
obese and certified his legitimacy by looking exactly like his dark skinned
father. He was a good child, kind,
intelligent and ever so humble, just like his father. His mother was everything
he was not. Fair, arrogant and aware of the impact her beauty left on anyone
who crossed her way. She kept telling him that he and his father had skin the
colour of processed tea that was made in the factory which his family ran. Karuttappa
knew that his father would have never got such a catch had it not been an
alliance brought by his rich aunt. Money bought everything, even women,
the kid learnt early in life. He was
eight when he was gifted a baby sister, as fair as his mother. Exactly a year later, his father became the
hot topic as the man who coloured his fair skinned daughter, black.
Karuttappa always
craved to be his mother’s first preference, who cooed over his sister. He was
his father’s pet but that was mostly because his father was too embarrassed to
be seen in public with the newly born. He always wondered why but never
enquired much due to the fear of losing importance even in his father’s eyes.
He and his father were dark. His mother made sure they both knew about it.
By the time he was 27, Karuttappa hated his own skin. His mother found a clueless fair skinned village girl and they were married in a fortnight. No courtship and no stolen kisses, but he did not have time to brood, for he was happy that he had married a beautiful girl. He loved her and she loved him back with the same fervid conviction. While his mother visited him every month with fresh contempt for his dark skin and her constant fear that his children would resemble him, his wife loved him and his colour. Among these conflicting views by the two most important women in his life, he chose the one that he was used to.
Two years down the
marriage lane, his wife declared that she was pregnant. Karuttappa rejoiced and
the entire family was quick to come down with gifts for his carrying wife.
While his father hugged him with teary eyes, his mother filled his ears with
ways to make his child enter this world as a fair skinned baby. Make your wife drink Saffron milk every day, she
said. He believed every word she uttered.
His disinterested wife
obliged to his antics. She gulped down saffron milk twice a day, since her
husband did not want to take a chance by limiting it to one. She sat through
the poojas that he conducted in their
house, tolerating the Brahmins who did not comprehend a single mantra that came out of their trained
mouth. She loved her husband and cursed her mother-in-law for making a
beautiful man hate himself. She also believed that their baby must have been
too tired of being subjected to so many complicated rituals that she decided to
enter the world a month before schedule. A premature yet healthy, fair skinned
daughter was born. Karuttappa wept as he kissed his newly born baby girl. The
Gods had listened to him. His progeny would be spared of the embarrassment that
his colour has brought upon him. His wife kept silent, amused by the display of
emotions by her handsome husband.
The news of Karuttappa
fathering a fair little girl became a topic that garnered much interest among
the villagers. While the prudent section believed that the baby might have
acquired the colour of her mother, the rest vouched that Karuttappa’s wife must
have shared her bed with another fair skinned man which resulted in the birth
of this beautiful little girl. The possible debauchery of his wife became a
subject of heated discussion even in the Toddy shops and one night when
Karuttappa decided to grab a few drinks, the drunkards decided to debate about
the legitimacy of his daughter right in front of him. A brawl followed but died
when Karuttappa fell on the ground and wailed. They were quick to leave the weeping man alone.
The next day, a fresh topic
of debate was delivered to the villagers.
Rumour has it that his
wife saw him applying soot on their baby’s beautiful white face.
P.S- I am back to Kochi after a much needed Diwali break. Went home for a week after almost a year and boy do I feel happy. :)
P.P.S- Please read before you comment. I would be glad.
