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Po n n i y i n S e l v a n W h i r l w i n d s 2

Ka l ki Tr a n s l a t e db y

Pa v i t hr aS r i ni v a s a n

Ponniyin Selvan

P O N N I Y I N S E LVA N BOOK2 : WHIRLWINDS

Kalki R Krishnamurthy Translated from the Tamil by Pavithra Srinivasan

Original in Tamil, Ponniyin Selvan : ©KALKI R KRISHNAMURTHY English Translation, Ponniyin Selvan : ©Pavithra Srinivasan First Edition: 2019 By ZERO DEGREE PUBLISHING ISBN: 978 93 88860 09 3 ZDP Title : 25 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, psychic, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

ZERO DEGREE PUBLISHING

No.55(7), R Block, 6th Avenue, Anna Nagar, Chennai - 600 040 Website: www.zerodegreepublishing.com E Mail id: [email protected] Phone : 98400 65000 Typeset by Vidhya Velayudham Cover Art by Art Muneeswaran

P ubl i s h er s ’ Not e Writers are the cultural identity, the memory of the aeon, the conscience and the voice of the society. By the sheer magic of their art, they surpass the barriers of language, land and culture. Any country should pride itself on possessing writers – national assets – whose works in translation have the potential to catapult them into international renown. The Latin American Boom during the 1960s and ‘70s was a launchpad era that thrust names such as Julio Cortázar, Gabriel García Márquez, Carlos Fuentes, Jorge Luis Borges and Mario Vargas Llosa into the Anglophone literary world where they enjoyed a plausive reception. Publication of translated nineteenth-century Russian literature fetched Tolstoy and Chekhov iconic status. Due to the availability of and the demand for their works in translation, Haruki Murakami of Japan and Orhan Pamuk of Turkey have become bestselling writers to watch in the present day and age. What we understand from all of this is that translation and publication are fruitful endeavors that engage national writers and their oeuvres with the world at large and vice versa. Zero Degree Publishing aims to introduce to the world some of the finest specimens of modern Indian literature, to begin with, we take great pride in introducing Tamil literature in English translation because, as Henry Gratton Doyle said, “It is better to have read a great work of another culture in translation than never to have read it at all.”

– Gayathri Ramasubramanian & Ramjee Narasiman

Publishers

Dedication To Kalki R Krishnamurthy—who first opened my eyes to the wonderful world of history, and guided my first hesitating steps towards the incredible world of historical fiction. From you I learnt my past; through you, I look to my future. -Pavithra Srinivasan

Contents

Poonguzhali...................................................................................................11 A Muddy Morass...........................................................................................20 Muddled Minds............................................................................................26 At Midnight..................................................................................................33 All at Sea ......................................................................................................40 The Hidden Mandapam................................................................................47 "Samudhra Kumari"......................................................................................58 Demon Island...............................................................................................71 "Here is Ilankai!"...........................................................................................80 Aniruddha Brahmaraayar..............................................................................86 The Therinja Kaikkola Regiment...................................................................94 Guru and Disciple.......................................................................................104 "Ponniyin Selvan".......................................................................................116 Full Moons Two..........................................................................................123 A Lament in the Night................................................................................130 Sundara Chozhar's Delusions......................................................................139 "Do the dead ever return?"..........................................................................150 "Which is the worst of betrayals?"...............................................................160 "They've captured the spy!".........................................................................167 Two Tigresses..............................................................................................174 The Dungeons.............................................................................................180 Sendhan Amudhan, Incarcerated.................................................................188 Nandhini's Nirupam...................................................................................197 As Wax in Flame.........................................................................................204 Magnificent Maathottam............................................................................213 A Bloodthirsty Dagger.................................................................................218 Through the Jungle.....................................................................................225 The King's Road..........................................................................................233

The Mahout................................................................................................243 Fast and Furious Battle................................................................................252 The Elela Singan Koothu.............................................................................259 Killi Valavan's Elephant...............................................................................264 The Statue's Message...................................................................................271 Anuradhapuram..........................................................................................275 The Throne of Ilankai..................................................................................286 The True Measure of Worth?.......................................................................298 Kaveri Amman............................................................................................306 (He)art Speaks!............................................................................................312 "Here's Battle!"............................................................................................322 Mandhiralosanai..........................................................................................329 "Look over there!".......................................................................................337 Poonguzhali's Dagger..................................................................................343 "I'm a criminal!".........................................................................................349 A Rampaging Elephant...............................................................................361 The Prison Ship...........................................................................................375 Tumultuous Hearts.....................................................................................387 Ghoulish Laughter......................................................................................400 Death of a Kalapathi...................................................................................411 The Ship Hunt............................................................................................417 The Sworn Guardians..................................................................................423 Whirlwinds.................................................................................................438 The Wrecked Boat.......................................................................................452 Song of a Saviour........................................................................................462

1

Poonguzhali

T

he evening was serene, in its beauty. The sea lay subdued, its exuberance calmed; low waves murmuring along the shores of Kodikkarai. Catamarans and boats bobbed on the waters, making their way towards land; birds fluttered home from sea, at the end of their daily quest for sustenance. Pristine white sands stretched a little away from the water; beyond, dense, thick jungle claimed the landscape, extending for league upon endless league. Not a single branch on these hoary old forest trees swayed; not a leaf stirred. Silence lay upon them, a thick, stifling veil, stretching in all four directions. The sun sank to the horizon, his brilliant red-gold rays dazzling where sky and earth met in their eternal quest for togetherness. A few straggling clouds, failing in a fruitless attempt to hide his glorious light, caught a few stray beams and glowed bright in the evening sky.

11

Ponniyin Selvan

A tiny boat bobbed on the sea, close to the shore. Gentle waves rocked the craft like a child’s cradle, taking care not to play havoc with the little vessel—which carried a young woman. And we remember, in an instant, Sendhan Amudhan’s ecstatic, almost reverent description of his young cousin. Indeed—this must be Poonguzhali; her luxurious tresses even hold a single petal of the fragrant thaazhampoo, as if to bear out the truth of her name. Long, silky black ringlets flowed from her crown in waves, setting off slender, beautifully moulded shoulders to advantage. The sea scoured its depths and poured out bountiful resources: shells, tiny conches and the like, onto its shores; she had gathered and strung them into a fascinating necklace that now decorated her swan-like neck. Truth be told—they attained a sort of unearthly beauty by ornamenting her, rather than set off her considerable loveliness. But then, what sort of exotic jewel could possibly enhance a face and form that defied description—that was beauty incarnate in every way? She lay in her boat, majesty limning her every movement, languid, free and enchanting—and then she lifted her voice in song. Was this why the sea lay like glass, its waves a mirror of tranquility? Was this why the wind died down, tempering its raucous cries to a soothing murmur, in a bid to catch the cadence of her voice? Did every leaf and branch adorning trees in the distant forest silence their endless rustling, just to listen to her lilting melody? Sky and earth pause in their eternal, celestial duty, drunk with the beauty of her exquisite song? And perhaps this was why even the sun tarried a while longer, rather than make for the horizon and sink to the west—just to listen, a little more, to Poonguzhali’s voice. And if they can, so shall we, to verses dipped in honey, wafting upon the gentle sea breeze: Why anguish, my soul, When tumbling seas lie smooth? Why rage, dear heart, 12

Kalki R Krishnamurthy

When Lady Earth sleeps, soothed? Birds of the forest, Flit homewards, to their nest Hunters and bowmen Trudge happy, to their rest The sky spreads, tranquil, At ease stay the four worlds, Yet, beauteous maiden, doe-eyed, What pains thy heart, why mourn? Heaving oceans lie still, Gentle breezes calm, Yet, sweet maiden What churns thy heart, what storm? What storm indeed? What prompted a young woman to sing with such unbearable grief? What was this bittersweet blend of pleasure and pain that overwhelmed her lovely voice? Or perhaps the song itself was fashioned not just with words, but with tears? No one can divine the truth. What we do know is that those words and that voice, mingling with the melody, almost break our hearts with their exquisite lament; their grievous sorrow. Poonguzhali’s song faded away. She took hold of the oars, pulled strongly a few times, and beached the shore. She leapt out of the craft nimbly and pulled the boat upon the sands. A few catamarans lay in a heap nearby and she hefted up her craft, making sure it rested against them. Then she leant against her boat, scanning the surroundings. There! A roaring fire flared on the mandapam atop the lighthouse. The flames licked the wood, rising higher with every moment; it would last all night, lighting the beach. Caution! Do not approach any closer!—thus would it cry out to vessels scouring the seas. And there was reason enough for such frantic warnings: the shores of Kodikkarai were extremely shallow; the only vessels that could dock here were small 13

Ponniyin Selvan

ones: catamarans and little boats. Should ships and yachts be so foolish as to approach the shores, they would find themselves aground within moments. Speed would not be of any use either; the vessels would simply splinter and crumble. The fires atop the lighthouse, thus, provided an incredible service to those who plied large ships. Somewhere in the distance rose a temple spire amongst the dense trees; the home of the deity Kuzhagar, who lived in splendid isolation, guardian to these lonely parts. Approximately two hundred years ago, the great Saivite saint and Nayanmar, one among the most loyal devotees of Siva Peruman, Sri Sundara Murthy Naayanar arrived at Kodikkarai and chanced upon the deity Kuzhagar, holding His divine and lonely vigil amidst the forest. “My lord, my soul—who do You guard these forsaken lands; why isolate Yourself on these shores, with none by Your side?” He lamented. “Could You not find another place worthy of Your divine powers? While devotees throng other shrines; where they revere You with great gifts and bhakthi, why distance Yourself from them here, in the midst of this dense jungle by the sea? Ah, that my eyes, unfortunate eyes were fated to see this terrible blight—to witness such a sight!” “Kadithaik kadarkaatru vanthetrak karaimel, kudithanayale irundhar kutramaamo? Kodiyen kangal kandana kodik kuzhageer Adikel umakkaar thunaiyaaga irundheere? Matham malisoozh maraikaadathan renpaal Pathar palar paadavirundha parama! Kothaar pozhilsoozhtharukodik kuzhaga Ethaar raniye irundhai? Embiraane!” Two hundred years after the great saint’s visit to the shrine, Kodikkarai’s guardian deity still stood alone, amidst ancient trees, shrouded by silence. The jungle had grown even denser, if possible; owls and other birds nested in branches, breaking the silence with their 14

Kalki R Krishnamurthy

mournful hoots. A few huntsmen, almost cadaverous in appearance, were the only ones courageous enough to fashion a few ramshackle dwellings amidst the trees and make the forest their home. But stay—there was a difference. No lighthouse had existed when Sundaramurthy visited Kodikkarai; this imposing structure had been built a few years ago, in the time of Paranthakar the First. A few simple, tile-roof homes had been allotted to the exclusive use of those in the employment of lighthouse maintenance; the priest who performed daily worship in the Kuzhagar Temple also shifted his residence, here. Poonguzhali gazed around, leaning almost negligently against the boat. The lighthouse, lit gloriously, beckoned; she wondered if she should make her way there. Then, she glanced at the Kuzhagar temple’s spire. The semangalam pealed at that moment in loud, strident tones and made the decision for her: what was she to accomplish, going home just now? She may as well visit the temple; ask the priest the favour to sing a few Thevaram hymns. Even receive some delicious prasadham offerings, and make a meal of it. To think was to act. Poonguzhali slipped off her post and made her way to the temple. Skipping, dancing, and singing little snatches of song, for such was her temperament at the moment. A herd of deer gamboled across her; sprinting on swift legs along the white sands towards the forest. A little fawn sprang and leapt along with seven or eight of its elders, trying desperately to keep pace. Poonguzhali’s heart swelled with exhilaration at the sight. She darted after them in turn, as though trying to capture one. No matter what her speed, though, could anyone ever hope to outrun a deer? The graceful animals evaded her with ease. A few of them suddenly leapt high, almost seeming to hang in the air for a few moments before they touched down, a good distance away. There, Poonguzhali guessed, lay a quagmire, probably. A muddy hole of death. The bigger deer had managed to cross it without difficulty, but the little fawn was not so fortunate. It tried valiantly to imitate the adults but found that the jump had been too much; its hind legs were stuck fast, in the mud. It tried hard, using what little strength it had to push hard on its 15

Whi r l wi nds ,t hee xc i t i ngs e c ondpa r tofKa l kiR Kr i s hna mur t hy' shi s t or i cma gnum opusPonni yi n Se l va n,ourhe r oVa l l a va r a ya nVa ndhi ya t he va n' s a dve nt ur e sc ont i nue a s he r i de si nt o ma r s hy qua gmi r e s ,be f r i e ndsamys t e r i ousgi r l ,be c ome s t he obj e c tof i nt e ns es us pi c i on by t he wi l y Pa z huve t t a r a ya r s-a nd me e t st hehe r o ofhi s dr e a ms . Me a nwhi l e ,Kundha va iPi r a t t i ,pr i nc e s soft he Choz ha e mpi r ei st hr own i nt oc onf us i on a nd out r a ge , whi l et he be a ut i f ul but poi s onous Na ndhi niDe viwe a ve smor ede c e i t f ulwe bst o e ns na r ehe re ne mi e s .Shewi l ls t opa tnot hi ngt o br i nga bout t hedownf a l l oft heChoz ha s. . . but wi l l t hes c i onsoft ha tr oya lc l a ne s c a pei nt i me ? Re a dont of i ndouta st hee pi cc ont i nue s .

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