Sarangapani Street

The otherwise calm Sarangapani Street was full of voices. Every mouth had a story. The men folk were ready with their judgments even before the matter reached court. "life imprisonment" said one; "death sentence" said another. Their women were full of gossips, each one trying to juice up the story in her own way. Children were chasing the Jeep and along with them ran Subramaniam. He ran and ran till he was panting and could no longer keep pace. Standing there still, he stared at the dimly fainting sight of the Jeep still trying to catch a glimpse of his master.

Subramaniam was days old when Ramanujam picked him from the street and since then he was his trusted companion. He would follow him to the lakeside, the woods, the library, for that matter anywhere Ramanujam went. Ramanujam was unlike anybody in the village. He never sat under the big banyan tree to discuss the worldly matters nor was he interested in the boat race which the other men folk were so fond of. He was more to himself and had no friends except Subramaniam. He would spend his days in his huge ancestral house coming out only to go by the lakeside or take a walk to the library. Chandramma, his maid was the sole visitor to his house. She would come there every day at the wake of dawn and would find him already in front of his canvas.

Subramaniam would stare at the white canvas and see his master's strokes filling it with colors and how each painting sprang to life. The lady on the canvas is so beautiful that it will make you think if God can better this creation - her deep brown eyes have innumerable stories to tell but her lips are sealed giving away only a faint smile, her fingers are delicate yet they tightly clutch the end of her fluttering sari, her feet are restless yet are gripped to the canvas and her long thick hair slightly concealing her face. The rays of the morning sun made her look angelic. While going about her daily chores Chandramma would peek into his room once in a while but never dared to venture. She would ask Subramaniam all sorts of questions about their master, knowing that her questions would remain unanswered. Subramaniam would just stare at her and leave if she didn't stop her chatter. Ramanujam was mostly confined to his room, so Chandramma thought of herself as the mistress of the rest of the house. In her part of the house, she would rearrange furniture, change drapes and decorate to her fancy. She always wondered if Ramanujam even knew what the other part of his house looked like.

"I knew he would do this one day. He has let down the reputation of our village. Who would want to come and stay here now? How would our daughters get married?" Krishnan heard his wife scream at the top of her voice. "Being his neighbors at least we should be supportive" he said. "First he brings home a...” Krishnan shushed his wife even before she could finish her sentence.

Several days ago Subramaniam and Ramanujam were walking by the river as part of their afternoon routine, when Subramaniam started sniffing around a bush. Ramanujam tried to drag him several times but Subramaniam would run back to the bush. Seeing him do this relentlessly, Ramanujam went to check himself. There was a girl lying unconscious. Ramanujam took her to the river, gave her some water and sat by her side. In the mean while Subramaniam was running in circles in an attempt to catch his tail, licking the girl's face once in a while. When she regained consciousness, they brought her home. Chandramma was asked to stay in the house full time to take care of the girl. Nobody knew who she was or where she came from. Everyone tried to ask her but she wouldn't say a word. Convinced she was mute Chandramma started calling her pori, a rustic way of calling a girl. “How could he have brought that girl into our agraharam. This is where shudha Brahmins live. We don’t know which caste she belongs to, God forbid if she is from a different faith.” Krishnan’s wife started slapping herself and hitting her knuckles hard on her forehead before finishing her sentence. “Ayyo Venkateshwara what has befallen on us?” As days passed by, this girl befriended the entire neighborhood and soon became everybody's favorite. She would help the old lady in the house opposite by sweeping and putting muggu in her front yard. She would run to the stationary store to get Ramanujam his canvas and colors. She would help the postman by distributing the letters that came for the residents of Sarangapani Street. Though Krishanan’s wife had her reservations, slowly she too fell for her charm. Though she would still not let her enter her house, she would let her draw water from the well for her and play with the baby when she was busy in the kitchen.

One morning when Chandramma woke up, she saw the bed next to hers was empty. “Ae pori, what have you started doing so early in the morning?” she said as she went to the backyard looking for her. Not finding her there, she looked in the kitchen, the front yard, everywhere. “Where could she have gone? Normally she would not wake up until I start hitting her with the broom, where could she have gone?”, Chandramma spoke more to herself than out loud. She went by her daily chores still wondering. At 9:30 AM when it was time to give Ramanujam his breakfast, she told him. “She would have gone to the one of the neighbors'. Where else could she be?” Chandramma nodded and went to check. She knocked on every door of the Sarangapani Street, but couldn't find her. She came back running and narrated this to Ramanujam. At that moment, there was a loud thud in the well. Still gasping for breath, Chandramma ran into the back yard almost sure to find that mute girl in the well. A cat had knocked the brass water pot off the edge of the well. This panic continued until late afternoon when Ramanujam decided to go to the local police station. Ramanujam explained everything to the inspector and was waiting for him to respond. “We will look into it. Go now” he said with his head buried into a newspaper. Ramanujam came home. Two days passed; there were no signs of the girl. Ramanujam went to the police station again and received the same treatment.

By this time word had spread in the street and people would stare and whisper whenever he passed. Even Subramaniam was not spared. Every mouth had a story. Some said the girl was killed, some said she drowned in the well and some said she simply ran away. But everyone was sure that Ramanujam would get into trouble for this. A few days passed and a police Jeep arrived in the Sarangapani Street. Everyone was aghast. This had never happened before. Ramanujam came out, sat in the Jeep and it zoomed away chased by little children and Subramaniam. Nothing came out of this visit too.

In the following days Chandramma started observing that there were a few things missing from the house such as a bronze lamp from the puja room, the old transistor and the chess set. Krishnan’s wife reported the loss of her copper kalasam and the old lady in the house opposite said her ivory comb went missing. Nobody observed these little things as they are not looked for in day to day life. Police did their investigation and found similar cases were heard of in the neighboring villages. People didn't take time to put two and two together and hence a correlation between the missing girl and the missing things was established.

As time passed, people lost interest in Ramanujam and the missing girl. There was a new story of interest - a Brahmin girl who eloped with a Muslim boy. Even Krishnan’s wife who was once worried about Ramanujam bringing ill-name to their street, broadened her boundaries of worry and started worrying about the Brahmin girl bringing bad name to the entire village. And thus Ramanujam and Subramaniam were left at peace.