Sunburnt at Rayiranellur

Duty beckoned.The Indian Judiciary wanted me in Palghat sessions court as expert witness in a case of assault.The victim was dead , but the case was very much alive.Worried about my road sickness and probably lack of 'sense ' my exceedingly sweet husband volunteered to be my navigator on this trip-Gateway to a getaway from the daily grind of hospital and home.
To our pleasant surprise I had a prompt, polite and warm welcome from all the men in uniform we came across that morning. The government pleader I met was a sharp guy, who briefed me on the wound certificate.Constables made sure that both of us were comfortably seated in the court room.
Lawyers dressed in their formal paraphernalia made last minute notes and refernces.We felt like aliens in a world of black and white.The clock struck eleven and in walked the judge in all his legal splendour.All of them stood up and so did we.Following some incomprehensible court jargon it was my turn to be part of the drama.I stepped up on to the witness cage and took the oath of truth. Umpteen reel life scenes flashed through the minds eye.What followed was a crossfire round, a drmatised viva of sorts.I played Higuitta and yes it was an exciting game.
I was extremely careful not to glance at the accused lined up at the other end of the courtroom.Outside these walls where no men in penguins attire conduct quiz shows and no uniformed cops chaperone you, we rub shoulders with the filth of the earth-butchers who thrive on the flesh and blood of fellow humans.
Which of the 46"thirumurivus" could have caused that hapless man to die?The judiciary had to sort it out.And here Iam , an expert called inti helping them do just that.
My part played, I stepped off stage.We were back in the air conditioned comfort of our new car, a blazing red Figo.Both of us were excited about this day out on atangential path.I was also aware of how fascinated my husband was with folklore, myth and offbeat tracks. Infact I did share his love for the first two, but unplanned travel was not exactly my bit of pie.On his birthday he had wanted to go to Rayiranellur, a place steeped in Naranath Branthans myth.But the trip did not work out.Did an unseen finger point at me> So here I was keeping him company on this pilgrimage to the land of a lunatic who walked way ahead of his times. It was a belated birthday gift to my best friend.
The road lay shining in the molten sun.At the turn to Rayiranellur, which we almost missed, sat a dishevelled nomad in dirty rags. Out of habit more than anything else I turned my gaze away.
Then it was as if our Figo was being taken for a test drive in trekking terrain.The sleek car held through as he manoevred it uphill at impossibly crazy angles. A breakdown here is going to break me down, thought I.
We came to a halt at the foot of an imposing flight of steps.A large signboard read "pooja ' in hill top shrine only during morning hours.Stay off during all other times'. There in the valley side of the hill stood a sprawling 'mana' that had weathered centuries. The Namboothiri priest gladly gave us permission and even offered refreshments.
The intimidating flight of steps seemed to stretch upto eternity.Each step was a mini platform , I had to walk through so as to climb the next.The hill was awilderness, the terrain rocky, the air thin, the sun blazing and not a soul stirred.
He was getting visibly thrilled.All of a sudden I felt frightened.Heady with the joy of realizing his dream , he ran up the steps while I lagged behind.Uncharecteristically eloquent he started narrating how Naranath had outwitted Bhagawathi with his original thinking and insight into human nature.Was my husband possessed by by Naranath Branthan's spirit ? The vitality coursing through my companion , the wind in my hair, the chirp of unseen sparrowa and the heights that separated us from the crowds below: At the same time a sane voice from within said"Stop,Turn back, Run ! You are alone in the wild!"

I was getting rapidly out of breath; My legs felt like lead.Fear like 'Vethal' weighing me down.The flight of steps ended .We had to trek on foot to climb further.He was just afew more steps away from his dream whwn I said "Yudhishtira, I cannot climb any higher."
The gift I had wrapped in love lay in wait at the hilltop where I shall never reach.'You go on ,I'll stay here by this rock'I said.After a brief moment of hesitation he answered'You have the mobile, so you are not alone, Take care, I will be back soon'
So saying he went up the one man trail the famed lunatic had left behind ages back.
On the rock I sat alone
Terror made my mind wander,
Twigs crackled in the forest paths,
Something rustled in the grass.
Unmerciful sun he struck me hard
Then I heard the footsteps come
Friend of Fiend who can tell?

Clutching my mobile close I moved into the shadows of a bushy tree. From there I saw him coming down the hilly track. It felt as though he had been away for ages , though it was hardly ten minutes in real time.I was still numb with fear.Need to get out of this Godforsaken place was all that came to my mind. Barely looking at each other we started our journey downhill in complete silence. Halfway down the steps there sat a couple of young men sharing a bottle (of water ? ) My legs began to shake and I prayed silently.
Later from the safety of our car we saw four men climbing down the forest paths two of whom we had earlier seen.They all left in bikes parked right beside our car. I sat through the rest of the journey feeling like a boulder my companion had to push uphill and had not the heart to send rolling down.
All the same , it was a day that added spice to our memories.


lathika

Lunar eclipse at Rayiranellur

Looking back it was sheer madness but there is no irony since it was a non believer's pilgrimage to the abode of the most famous lunatic of malayalam- Naranathu Branthan located in Rayiranellur hills on Koppam Valanchery route .We were driving off track from the Palakkad Thrissur highway.

My wife had a court duty in Palakkad as eye witness ie she witnessed the injured eyebrow of a man who died from 45 injuries incised wounds, stab injuries ,blunt injuries and gore.And that was almost a decade back. I was her escort driver for our first tryst with the Indian judiciary.The court started at sharp 11 when the Magistrate entered The clerk was reading some names and numbers , incomprehensible mutterings to us.Thankfully the proceedings started and the Magistrate asked whether anyone has an objection to finishing the medical expert witness cross before interval. Doctors are still considered a privileged species, good!Wait , a counsel objected , they are doctors from nearby .They can wait. Nooooo! I cried we have taken leave leaving our daily wages and are coming from faaaar!Did I go too far? This aint no class room to hoot .
The wound was dissected in detail.Could this be caused by a sharp weapon like this and opened a bundle of armory, a bunch of daggers and swords- another first for us.A chill passed through my spine.And turned back to see the bunch of accused standing in a cage with just a wooden barrier from us. As many weapons as the accused, some sharp, some blunt all cold.The expert witness had not fainted and continued with the crossfire.Could this injury be also caused if this man was in the trajectory of a sharp projectile or even worse, could it be that he fell over a sharp edged surface accidentally .The pattern would still read as Incised wound 20 cm x 2cm in the wound certificate . The next witness was a Forensic professor who was also my teacher . Without batting an eyelid he enumerated and elaborated how the jigsaw puzzle of a mangled body and dangling limbs was created .Was the ophthalmologist brought to certify that this man had no eye injuries. Did he have a vision , a mission , a family ? He is another long forgotten case number . We took leave from the court. Were some eyes in the cage seeking us ? Was there a muffled whisper to someone standing outside?
We drove back along the Ottapalam route.Quite unlike NH 47 ,the road was smooth ,winding through some of most beautiful terrains of Kerala.

I had searched for route map to my dream destination on google the day before. But precise information was lacking. The manager of the hotel from where we had lunch connected me to a number from above and it was He who gave me the directions.That was the moment when I decided that we will change the route.Was she surprised? She was familiar with my facility for dual plans.We do seldom get into situations of 'puttu kachavadam' during 'onam'.And all that she wants to know is which is the festival and which is the pancake !
This trip to the hills was her birthday gift to me for I had planned to go alone to this place on my birthday but got delayed because of the demands and compulsions of a father husband who wanted to take a one day break from it all. We were in a fiery red Ford Figo, my gift to her on her birthday.At least we were on a break - parents day out! Usually she is travel weary and this I knew would be a bit of a ride. Ready to share the lunacies of a musafir.Thank you.

The entry road was so inconspicuous with no signboards nearby. Or was the wandering lunatic sitting at the junction THE signboard we missed?

The road was so narrow and steep reminding one of the route taken by the Pandavas for vanaprastha.It was noon and sweltering hot.I couldn’t take my eyes off the road to pan the view since it was a cliffhanger.What was so special about the no-mad of panthirukulam. Pakkanar and AkavoorChatthan are also my favorites. Perunthachan, not really and definitely not agnihothri.Maybe Madusoodanan nairs poem has made Pranthan contemporary and popular.The car goes only half the way and u see a flight of stairs.A board says entry restricted to morning hours.Needs permission. We go the house nearby which is a mana and they own the temple. Was he a brahmin since it seems unlikely that two siblings of the fraternity share the same kulam ? Or had he been conferred brahmanyam,once he was adorned in the divine halo?.

We started the climb.Pretty steep but the steps were surprisingly wide and well built. While climbing up I shared the fables I knew of.How he used to roll up a boulder singing 'uchayayoda? soorya !uchiyilayoda?"and roll it down the very slope in a fraction of the uphill time. And what is your boulder ? The car,camera, laptop, you or me -anything which can tumble down…

It was noon and sun was scorching us. We had just half a bottle of water. She was getting exhausted. The story of his encounter with Bhadrakali, the defeat of a deity by a mortal, transplanting elephentiasis from a leg to another.I was full of energy .But she was turning apprehensive minute by minute.Was it exhaustion ? There is not a single soul around.That was making it more exciting for me. Now we were quite high and the view was breathtaking.From here there were no more stone steps. Only bare rocks. She said I cant climb anymore. Didn’t Draupadi say the same to Yudhishtira she asked ? I am no Dharmaputra and I don’t see a dog either.But determined to climb the full way I told her to take rest and there I was almost running up the slope with a sheer energy and enthusiasm I had not known for a long while.


The hill top was almost a plateau with a small temple which I presume is that of a devi. The huge banyan tree was the sole shade.Bhranthan's statue stood tall in the sun overlooking a cliff . Looking down and around the view was panoramic. Mobile towers cast their unseen spell linking us through microwaves.But why is she not answering my call . I ran down the steps at double the speed. It must have taken about five minutes but felt like aeons.
She had unleashed her hair, dressed in red sari, face red with fright or anger, Bhadram, Roudram.But I was Shantham .We barely spoke while climbing down.True to her fears two men were climbing halfway through.Another two winding through some short cuts which we never notice.The chameleons which we spotted on our way up were ominous. Dressed in saffron , were they the moral police of malabar eager to expose the possibly amorous couple.Or were they grave yard dancers of kali-kooli. When we reached our car they had also climbed down.Surely there was some link between our presence and theirs.

The name of the mana we notice was not naranath but Aamayur.
 Ascent or descent? Black or white? Left or right?Who knows ! Which is the way down I asked a biker at a bifurcation, he pointed to a road.It was the same guy from the gang.I felt a quiver on my accelerating leg. Indeed it was the right way out of the maze.We didn’t see the signpost though.

What is the message she asks. .U mean the SMS I received ?Its from the bank I said,.Afer we bought the car the bank balance reads Rs 1200 . And the DTE meter in the car says we have just enough petrol to take us home. And thanks for the wonderful companionship up and downhill.

            Back in the hometown I got this call from my NRI friend who was waiting for me at Bini tourist home.There were few other persons in the room as well whom I didnt know. I was tad disappointed since what I had hoped to be a nostalgic reunion was now just another booze den.Did I come here after a tiresome journey for THIS ignoring the unsaid but palpable discontent? Surprised at my ignorance he introduced them with hero worship apparent,   Dont you know he is ........ from ......... Now I remembered . Long back how a man from a rival political outfit was chased by a band of comrades in a green killing field, seeing that he had been dismembered beyond any hope of revival was finished off in a final act of kindness . Was he the team head or is there one at all ?A mob is a monster with one head and arms several.Fear is the key. Numbers and party support will let you go scotfree till the enemy spots you alone. Kali poojas and Lal salaams wont come for a rescue on that day. No I do not know this person and left the room - Unnoticed.....
Rajesh