There's a Mountain Under the Hill

THERE’S A MOUNTAIN

UNDER THE HILL

AMELIA ROBYN

Copyright © 2013 by Amelia Robyn.

ISBN:            Ebook                     978-1-4828-1433-0

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To Roby, for marrying me

To Roby, for not reducing me to a wife

‘Sundari, pass that kaftan,’ Appu appachi (father’s sister) asked, pointing to a red-and-black kaftan. Sundari took the kaftan in her hands and felt the softness of it; she loved it and wanted to hold it. But before long, Appu appachi’s plump hands took it away from her and gave it to Seethulekshmi.

‘Here, take this, dear… and remove those.’ Seethulekshmi just smiled and took the kaftan from her. Sundari looked at it with her eyes wide. Seeing this, Seethulekshmi waved her closer.

‘That’s Sundari, Venu’s daughter. Her amma died after giving birth to her,’ Appu appachi said while packing her bags.

‘In which standard are you studying?’. Seethulekshmi asked. Sundari did not answer; she stood there watching Seethu. She had seen Seethu at the temple, but after that, she was not able to see her closely, and now Seethu was asking her in which standard she was studying. She was about to say, ‘I’ve passed second standard and I am going to join third standard’, but she stopped because Seethu had started answering appachi’s questions.

So she just stood there watching Seethu—one, two, three, four—four gold bangles, four on each hand; one, two, three, four—four gold chains around the neck, two long, two short—which was the one that Sureshetten tied around Seethu’s neck? She did not know and thought of asking it later to Sureshetten. She looked at her hands; there were only two bangles and that too of glass. She wanted to see whether Seethu was wearing silver anklets or gold ones, but the sari covered her legs and she kept it in mind to ask Seethu when they were alone.

Suddenly Seethu stood up and a silence spread across the room. Sundari turned back and found Sureshetten standing in the doorway.

‘Why did you stand up?’ Sundari asked, looking at Seethu.

‘That’s how good girls are. They stand up in front of their husbands.’ Saying this, appachi caught hold of her hand.

‘Come here, Sundari… I think appa’s calling you.’ She then dragged Sundari with her. Sundari was sure that appa had not called, but she did not say anything and followed Appu appachi. When they reached the dining room, appachi left her hand and went to the kitchen.

Sundari stood there in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. Suddenly her eyes caught sight of a lady standing at the door of the kitchen; her hair was straight, shoulder-length, and she was fair. There were many red spots on her face; she held a purse under her right shoulder. Sundari became frightened on seeing her and ran to her appa (father).

‘What’s it, molle (daughter)?’ her appa asked, rising from the divan.

‘Who’s that, appa?’ she asked, frowning.

‘Who?’ Her appa turned back and looked at the lady and smiled.

‘Oh! This is your Renu appachi.’ At this, Renu appachi twisted her lips a bit and passed them without a word. What did the twist of her lips mean? A smile. Sundari was not sure.

Sundari was getting more and more uncomfortable in that place. The only people whom she knew other than appa and Manu were amma and Sureshetten (both of them too busy), and everyone else was introduced to her only on that day.

‘Oh no, no, amma. I must leave today itself…’ She heard appa telling amma. After much arguments, amma looked back and called, ‘Monne (son) Suresh, Venu is leaving.’ After sometime, Sureshetten and Seethu appeared. Seethu was wearing the red-and-black kaftan, and on both sides of the V-shaped neck of the kaftan was a small bulge. She had seen that in amma and Appu appachi and knew it was called breast and knew one more thing: breasts were used to distinguish a woman from a man. She looked down and found nothing there.

‘Sundari… do you know who this chechi is?’ She tilted her head sideways as if to say ‘yes’.

‘This is Sureshetten’s wife…’ amma said. Sundari looked at amma and wanted to say ‘I know’ but kept quite and looked down and found that the kaftan was short for Seethu chechi (elder sister), and she found a gold pathasooram around her each leg, hardly visible in her wheatish skin. Suddenly, she felt a deep urge for them. ‘So, goodnight, Venu… take care of my little girl…’ saying this, amma knelt down in front of her and kissed her forehead. Sundari felt amma’s breast against her chest. When I get them, appa may buy a pair of gold anklets for me, she thought and kissed amma (mother, here Sundari addressed her father’s mother) back.

It was getting dark and appa had not come yet. Sundari sat there watching Manu. Manu was on top of the wall, walking; his hands were spread in air, and he tilted as he walked.

‘Be careful, Manu, you might fall…’ Sundari said, walking towards him. Manu avoided her and walked on.

‘Come down, Manu, it’s getting late…’ Sundari said, this time a bit more loudly. Seeing that Manu had no intention of obeying her, she sat down on the ground and started playing with the pebbles. She did not know what game she was playing. She went on counting the pebbles—one, two, three. When she reached hundred and sixteen, she heard the horn of a vehicle. ‘Appa,’ she screamed and ran towards it, but stopped halfway. It was not her appa’s white car which came through the open gate but an ash-coloured one. The car stopped right in front of her and its back door opened and amma came out.

‘Hi, Amma.’ She ran towards her with her hands wide open. Amma knelt down before her and embraced her and then asked, ‘Where’s Manu?’ She pointed towards the wall; Manu was standing on the wall not moving. ‘Ente Bhagavadi! (My Goddess) Come down, Manu…’ Amma shouted. ‘Where’s your appa?’ she asked, looking towards Sundari.

‘Aaaa…’ Sundari said with a shrug. ‘He left in the morning.’

‘Krishna ! Come down, Manu.’

‘I’ll come down only if you won’t scold me,’ Manu said, sitting on the wall.

‘OK, OK, I won’t scold you… now come down,’ Amma said in a calm voice. At this Manu jumped down from the wall. With Manu on one side and Sundari on other, she walked to the house.

‘Have you eaten anything?’ amma asked going to the kitchen. Manu went straight to their room. Sundari stood in the middle of the room, not knowing whether to follow Manu or Amma, but after much thought she followed amma. After staying there for some time and finding nothing to do, she left the kitchen and went to the bedroom. Manu was lying on his bed, sleeping. Watching him, she felt lonely and climbed into her bed.

‘Sundari… Manu… come here.’ She heard amma calling. She wanted to go to amma. She was hungry, but her legs were too tired and she just laid there, her eyes closed. After some time, she felt the sheet being pulled over her.

Next morning when she woke up she found appa lying on the devan; amma was in their room stuffing their clothes into a bag.

‘Amma… what are you doing? Why are you packing these?’ Sundari asked, looking at amma.

‘You and Manu are coming to live with me…’ amma replied, not looking at her. Sundari felt bad; she did not want to leave the house. Slowly she walked to her appa.

‘Appa… appa,’ she called, shaking him.

Appa opened his eyes, looked at her, and said, ‘Sundari, my dear’ and closed his eyes again. Sundari sat on the floor, her chin on her hand; she sat there watching appa.

‘I don’t want to leave appa…’ She heard Manu’s voice. She turned back and saw amma dragging Manu with her.

Suddenly, appa woke, sat up, and looked into her eyes. She just sat there looking at him.

‘Appa… why is she taking us?’ On hearing Manu’s voice, appa looked up and saw amma and Manu.

‘Oh no, amma… don’t take them with you. I won’t drink again?’ She heard appa begging. Why was appa begging? She did not ask, though she wanted to.

‘Ente poonu monne (my dear son), I will never do such a thing.’

‘On what surety will I leave them with you? Even if we forget about Manu, what about Sundari? She’s a girl.’

Did the words ‘Sundari, she’s a girl’ have magic in them because on hearing them appa stopped and went back to the divan, no longer arguing with amma.

‘Where are you taking us?’ Manu asked, looking at amma.

‘To my house’, amma said and continued, ‘to our house.’

‘Will appa come there?’ Manu asked again. Sundari too had her own questions to ask, but almost all of them were similar to Manu. So she sat there listening to Manu and Amma. They were sitting on the back seat of the ash car, which was moving smoothly. Amma sat in the middle with Sundari and Manu on both sides. Sundari loved travelling, and she always loved to sit on the side seat. And every time the three of them travelled, she, Manu, and appa, they always sat on the front seat with appa driving and there used to be a fight for the side seat, and with appa on her side she always succeeded. Sundari looked through the window watching the passing town; she never saw Manu looking out and wondered why he quarrelled for the seat.

Sitting there like that she felt dizzy and she turned to face amma and opened her mouth to say that she was feeling uneasy, but before any words came, she vomited into her dress.

‘Ugh?’ Manu screeched and covered his face with both hands.

‘Stop the car, Ravi,’ amma said calmly. Ravi stopped the car near a shopping complex.

‘Silly me!’ amma exclaimed, searching through the bag. ‘I didn’t take water.’

‘Ravi, see whether you can get some water.’ As if waiting for her order, Ravi left the car.

Amma looked at Sundari and smiled. Sundari was sitting shocked.

‘It could’ve been worse if you had eaten anything in the morning. Now this is just saliva,’ amma said patting her back.

‘Do you want to vomit any more?’ Sundari said nothing; her head felt heavy, and she sank back to the seat and closed her eyes tightly.

‘It’s all right. Now come out and breathe some fresh air and you’ll feel better,’ Amma said, helping her out. By now, Ravi was back with a bucket of water. Amma washed her face and hands and removed her dress and put it into a plastic cover. Now she was wearing only petticoat.

‘Do you need any more water?’ Ravi asked.

‘No, it’s OK. Ravi, you can wash the car after reaching home. Now go and give the bucket back,’ amma said. By the time Ravi returned, they were back in the car and Sundari was lying on amma’s lap.

‘Lower the window glass, Manu,’ amma said, lowering the window on her side.

‘What’s wrong with her? Last time when appa took us to the children’s park, she vomited.’ He was lowering his window glass with one hand and with the other he covered his nose.

‘Manu, if you want, you can sit in the front with Ravi,’ amma said.

‘I won’t sit with the driver,’ Manu said, and he said it so clearly and loudly that Sundari felt the words ringing in her ears for some time after he said it. Though her head was feeling too heavy, she raised it and looked at Ravi; he was sitting at his seat, looking straight and driving. It was as if he had heard nothing what Manu said. Amma said something, but Sundari could not make out what it was; it seemed to be coming from a far-off place.

‘Sundari… wake up.’

Sundari opened her eyes; she felt as if her head was resting on the softest pillow that she had ever had. It took her some time to realise that she was lying on amma’s lap.

‘We have reached home, Sundari,’ amma said.

Sundari sat straight in her seat and looked around. Manu was not in the car, and Ravi stood beside with the door open. Slowly, she got out of the car. Amma too got out. Watching amma squeeze her plump body through the door of the car made her laugh and she somehow suppressed it.

‘Shall I put the car in the garage?’

‘Of course, Ravi, I don’t need it today.’ Saying so, amma went inside the house.

Sundari looked around and found that the house looked like a palace; there were a lot of flowers arranged in a row around the compound wall. Towards the right side of the veranda, there was a mango tree. Around the mango tree were five or six flowerpots—some had roses in them. The veranda itself was a beautiful sight—it was dome-shaped; projecting forward, with arches towards the two sides of the veranda, there was a long passage with three arches each. The garage was on the left side; it had huge iron doors and was as tall as a two-storeyed building.

‘Sundari… come here. I’ll show you something.’ She turned and saw Manu standing behind the mango tree. She ran towards him.

‘What’s it, Manu?’ she asked. Manu said nothing but ran towards the left side of the house, took a turn, and disappeared. Sundari followed him. Reaching behind Manu, she stopped.

‘Wow!’ she exclaimed. On the left side from where they stood was a bed of roses, and they were full of red roses and that too blood-red ones. Between these roses were narrow passages for people to walk, and these pathways running criss-cross through the flower bed added to their beauty.

‘Sundari, look, there’s another mango tree,’ Manu said, walking towards it.

She turned back. Sure enough, on the right side of the gate was a mango tree, and this one was bigger than the one she had seen earlier.

‘Don’t you think appa should be here… ?’

‘Silly girl! This is appa’s house, and this is where we belong,’ Manu said, smiling. She could not believe what he said; she did not remember this place but Manu was telling her that this was their place.

‘But will appa come to see us?’ she said, looking at Manu. Though she could not remember this place, she had started to love this place. The place gave her a feeling of security which she had never felt before, and she was afraid that any time Manu would shake her up from her beautiful dream.

Under the mango tree, there was a pile of sand, the sand which was seen in beaches, this sand was seen all over the place. There were no pebbles, no grass, and not even one dry leaf was seen.

‘Manu, there’s a small gate inside the garden, see,’ she said, pointing towards the garden.

‘Hurray! Isn’t this place wonderful?’ Manu exclaimed loud, and then he somersaulted. She had seen Manu doing that whenever he was too happy. She wanted to do it and had tried but failed.

On reaching the garage, he stood on his hands, and then he jumped upwards and there he was in his legs. There was a small passage at one side of the garage, and this passage ended in a small gate. Putting his hands in through the grills, Manu opened the gate. He was greeted with an ear-piercing barking. Manu was shocked, and he ran back screaming. Sundari too was shocked and started to scream. No one came to calm them, and their screams subsided in the same way they started, with no one. Though she loved the place very much, there was something which made her love the place even more—it was an old wooden ladder, towards the left side of the veranda. It was she who found it; it was not hidden but was covered with creepers and all sorts of green leaves and hence was not visible at one glance but she found it—she and not Manu.

Every time she put a foot in the wooden steps, it produced a cracking sound and Manu was scared and kept on saying, ‘Be careful, Sundari… be careful…’

But apart from Manu’s warning and apart from the cracking sound, she knew that the ladder was going to hold her. She did not know how she knew it, but she did and her knowledge was true. On the top of the ladder was a platform just large for two people. From there she could see everything—the mango trees, the flowerpots, the wall, and the roses—and the roses looked even more beautiful. Peeping through the wooden fence of the platform, she said aloud, ‘Roses, roses from now on I am your queen and each and every one of you shall obey me, and those who won’t… well, I shall have your head off.’

‘What about amma?’ Manu said with a mysterious smile; he was standing at the last step.

‘What about amma?’ she repeated the question.

‘Well, it’s her roses.’

‘So?’

‘So, naturally she’s the queen, but if you want, you can be the princess.’

‘And who are you to say that?’ Now she was facing Manu, her left hand on her hips and the other on the fence.

‘I am the king of the roses,’ said Manu, with his left hand on his hips and the other on the fence, imitating Sundari.

They stood there facing each other like two bulls ready to charge, and the charge would have taken place if a white car had not stopped in front of the huge gate. Ravi got out and opened the gate wide, and then he went back to the car. Sundari could not believe it; she had not seen Ravi leaving the garage. The car stopped in front of the veranda, the back door open. The man who got out from the car was wearing a white dhoti and a sky blue-and-white check shirt. He was so tall, so lean and so fair that Sundari kept staring at him. His head was bald except for the thin layer of grey hair at the back. Sundari had seen him somewhere, but she could not remember where. She tried hard to remember, gave up, and said without taking her eyes from him,

‘Doesn’t he look like a sayip (foreigner)?’

‘Yes, he’s our appupan (grandfather, here father’s), and one day I am going to be like him,’ Manu said proudly. Sundari looked at him; she did not believe him—he was short and plump whereas appupan was tall and lean, and the only thing which made him similar to appupan was his colour, wheatish like a sayip kutti (son of a foreigner).

They both stayed at the stairs till amma called them for lunch. Appupan’s arrival left Manu as the prince of roses. Though he was disappointed, Sundari stood firmly on her decision.

It was while they were having lunch that Sundari saw appupan closely. He was wearing a white half-sleeved vest and a white dhoti. He had small round-shaped specs, and the specs suited him more than any other person Sundari knew of. The most remarkable feature about him was his nose, long, sharp, and pointed.

Sundari felt as if appupan did everything in style. He sat at the head of the table; he did not say anything and did not even look at them. He sat there eating rice, slowly, very slowly enjoying every bit of it. Seeing that appupan was paying no attention to her, she started to eat—with her mouth open, luxuriously chewing the food. The dining room was quiet except for the queer sound of her chewing. Suddenly appupan looked at her and said, ‘Didn’t your appa teach you table manners? Close your mouth and eat.’ It was a roar, and it gave Sundari such a shock that she forgot what she was doing and she stared at appupan, her mouth open.

‘Now stop staring at me and eat. That’s one thing you ought to know. While eating, look at your plate and eat.’ This time appupan’s voice was not a roar, but it had some commanding power in it that Sundari looked down and put a small quantity of rice in her mouth and swallowed it. Slowly, her heart began to feel heavy and tears began to fill her eyes. This was not her—whenever she wanted to eat, she ate as she liked, and whenever she wanted to cry, she screamed, and usually there used to be less tears. But now, the tears were coming, and it seemed as if there was no end to them. She did not scream, did not wipe her tears, and did not change her position. It was as if there was an external force preventing her from doing all these, and she just sat there swallowing every bit of food that was served to her.

After lunch, amma and appupan went to sleep. Sundari and Manu spent time lingering around the house. The veranda led to a drawing room. The drawing room had a TV and VCR, both covered with a wooden TV case. There were two sofas and two chairs, and these were arranged in a semicircle; in the middle was a red-and-black carpet, and on top of the carpet was a small glass table. There were two shelves, on the wall, opposite each other, with glass doors. These shelves were stacked with thick books; Sundari loved books, and she wanted to look at them, but the shelves were locked and she had to drop her idea. Opposite the drawing room was appupan’s office, but it was closed. Though the room was not locked, she was afraid to open it. So she went to the other room attached to the drawing room. In this room there was one small bed, a fridge, and a small water tank made of clay on an iron stand, and amma was sleeping on the bed. She looked at amma for sometime. Amma was too big for the bed; her legs were out in thin air, and Sundari was afraid that any time the bed would break, but it did not. Maybe amma was having the same confidence as she had when she climbed the cracking wooden ladder. She turned back to say something to Manu but suddenly became aware that Manu was not following her.

Manu was sitting in front of the TV. She started to call him but stopped as she had forgotten what she wanted to say to him. Slowly, she walked to the door opening at the corner of the room. It was a passage and the passage itself had four doors, one opening to a bathroom cum toilet, one to the drawing room, one outwards, and the last to amma’s siesta room. The passage consisted of many wooden windows with wooden grills; all the windows were open, and all of them were having the same white colour. Through the wooden grills she could see a cowshed, and it had a big black cow. The cow looked at her with her huge black eyes; frightened, she left the passage running.

There was a dining room which had an attached dressing room with ‘manichithra putt’ (a type of lock engraved on the door, usually seen in aristocratic families), and there was another small passage leading to a dark room (dark except for the sunrays coming through the drawn curtains of the two windows); it had a washing machine, a huge basket stuffed with dirty clothes, and an iron box on top of a ironing table. Near the washing machine was a dark room where no light entered; on opening it she found lots of clay pots and glass bottles and assumed it to be the place where amma kept her wines, pickles, and other special dishes which should be hidden from the sun. The kitchen was close to the dining room; it was very spacious. It had three stoves, both old and new. The other room was the servants’, so she did not go there. All the rooms in the house had floors of red oxide, and the walls were painted cream. Except this room, which had cemented floors and walls that were not painted; she left the room quickly when she realised this.

The next thing she did was to