The Writer sits under an old mango tree this morning. It’s a serene spot by the river. So perfect to ruminate about her! She who has enchanted him since childhood, beckoning through mists of myths and folklores. The beautiful Kannagi!
He sits quite still at the moment. Quill hovering over swirls of ink drying rapidly in the sunlight dappling through thick green leaves. He reads aloud the verse he has just weaved. His resonant voice makes music of the words describing the tumult in Kannagi’s heart as she hears the news of Kovalan’s return. In the Writer’s imagination, Kannagi’s husband stands just beyond the richly carved doors to the courtyard. But her legs are trembling, her heart is skittering around like a foolish lamb, her eyes are blurred by sleepless nights. Her fingers twist the folds of her crimson saree into sweaty knots. She is unable to walk to the door.
“That is just beautiful!”
The Writer starts at the voice. He did not sense the woman’s approach. Yet, there she is. Standing so close! Her long black hair cascades down to her hips. Her skin is dusky and aglow with the rich sheen of youthful health. She is of slight build; her lean form wrapped in a rich red saree. She is bare of jewelry except for the diamonds in her ears and – of course- anklets at her feet.
The Writer stares mesmerized. The Lady laughs out loud.
“Who are you, my lady?” he asks in wonderment.
“Who am I?” She smiles. “I would think the greater question is what is Kannagi going to do now? Will she open the door for Kovalan?”
“Of course. She must.”
Her eyebrows climb up at his confident response. “She must? So she has no choice?”
“Choice?!” exclaims the Writer. “A choice for Kannagi?”
“Yes! Kovalan at last chooses to leave the beautiful, seductive Madhavi and return to his wife. So, does Kovalan’s wife have a choice as well?”
The Writer is perplexed. But what kind of devil has wrought these thoughts?
“Who are you my lady?” he asks again.
The Lady smiles and lowers herself next to the Writer. A faint smell of jasmine wafts from her.
“Let us just suppose Kannagi has a choice,” the Lady continues, thinking aloud, almost to herself. “What would she do?”
“But what choice can she have?” the Writer is still perplexed.
“Why! Whether to open the door and let Kovalan back in her life at all!” she exclaims impatiently.
The Writer falls silent for a while. His mind is resuming its usual keen pace. He is now eager to match wits with this Lady.
“Not so fast, my lady. Kannagi has no choice. She really has no choice because the house is Kovalan’s. She owns nothing. If she rejects him, what will she do? Where will she go?”
“She can roam the forests like she ultimately does anyway after Kovalan is murdered and all is destroyed,” she retorts.
“Yes, it is true that she wanders. But think of the love and respect with which is welcomed in every town. Revered as a goddess! Deified for her devotion to her husband! She roams and yet she lacks nothing!”
The Writer pauses but the Lady stays silent.
So he continues. “She actually gains a lot by letting Kovalan back into her life. Do you think anyone would welcome her if her choice is to spurn Kovalan instead?”
The Lady finally raises luminous eyes, alight with anger.
“But what of Kannagi’s self-respect? What of the thousand deaths she dies awaiting her husband? What of her helplessness at being bound to this faithless, weak man?”
The Writer looks troubled. “What must be, must be, my lady. To write anything else would be fantastical, if not false – and suicidal for a struggling artist like me.”
The Lady smiles sadly. “So afraid to change a mere story, But what cowardice is this?”
The Writer is stung by her words. “All right then! Granted she spurns him. And he walks away. Now she sinks into poverty. She roams the jungles like a wild woman, a lost woman. No one really respects her now. She is probably raped. And dies of hunger. Does that serve her self-respect better?”
“But why is everything so black or white for Kannagi? Why is she either a goddess or a victim of rape?” The Lady lies back on the grass, her hair fanning out like a silken sheet. The Writer’s breath quickens in unconscious response.
“Why can’t she reject Kovalan and still find acceptance in society?”
“But who would accept her?”
The Lady rolls over to her side in sudden excitement. “What if she meets a monk or nun in the forest?”
“Ah! But you fall prey to all that you warn me against, my lady.” A mocking grin spreads over the Writer’s handsome face. “Why not weave a tale then where she meets a good man and marries again and lives happily ever after? What prompts you to exile her among monks and nuns? My poor Kannagi!”
Flushing, the Lady turns away – only to turn back seconds later with a brilliant smile. “I see you are a quick learner! Perhaps your Kannagi, at last, has a choice.”
The Lady rises gracefully to her feet in one fluid motion.
“Wait!” The Writer looks alarmed. “Where are you going?”
A breeze ruffles the mango leaves, teasing the Writer’s notes into restless confusion. He scrambles to maintain order, his mind partly bemused by this sudden cool relief, so alien to the season and the land.
And when he looks up, of course, she is gone.
The Original Tale of Kannagi (source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kannagi)
Kovalan, the son of a wealthy merchant in Kaveripattinam, married Kannagi, a young woman of legendary beauty. They lived together happily in the city of Kaveripattinam, until Kovalan met the dancer Madhavi and fell in love with her. In his infatuation he forgot Kannagi and gradually spent all his wealth on the dancer. At last, penniless, Kovalan realised his mistake, and returned back to Kannagi. Their only asset was a precious pair of anklets (cilambu— hence the name of the epic), filled with gems, which she gave to him willingly. With these as their capital they went to the great city of Madurai, where Kovalan hoped to recoup his fortunes by trade.
The city of Madurai was ruled by the Pandya king Nedunj Cheliyan I. Kovalan’s objective was to sell the anklets in this kingdom so that he and his wife would be able to start their lives over. Unfortunately, around the time he set out to sell the anklets, one anklet (out of a pair) was stolen from the queen, by a greedy court member. This anklet looked very similar to Kannagi’s. The only difference was that Kannagi’s were filled with rubies and the queen’s very filled with pearls, but this was not a visible fact. When Kovalan went to the market, he was accused of having stolen the anklet. He was immediately beheaded by the king’s guards, without trial. When Kannagi was informed of this, she became furious, and set out to prove her husband’s innocence to the king.
Kannagi came to the king’s court, broke open the anklet seized from Kovalan and showed that it contained rubies, as opposed to the queen’s anklets which contained pearls. Realizing their fault, the King and the Queen died of shame. Unsatisfied, Kannagi tore out a breast and flung it on the city, uttering a curse that the entire city be burnt. Due to her utmost chastity, her curse became a reality.
The city was set ablaze resulting in huge human and economic losses. However, after the request from the goddess of the city, she withdrew her curse and later, attained salvation. The story was narrated by the poet Ilango Adigal. A fascinating, but ironic, fact about this epic is that it portrays Madhavi, Kovalan’s amorous lover, as an equally chaste woman.
After setting fire to Madurai City, Kannagi on her way to Kodungalloor in Kerala, gave “darsan” to the natives at Attukal in Thiruvananthapuram. They constructed a Temple at Attukal. The Attukal Devi Temple is famous for “Pongala”. Millions of women gather every year at Attukal and offer “Pongala” to Devi in and around the Temple. The extra-ordinary gathering of women got an entry in the guinness book of world records.
It is also believed that Devi finally reached Kodungalloor and settled at Kodungalloor Devi Temple south of Guruvayoor.
The events related to Kannaki have high influence in the traditions and culture of Tamil Nadu and Kerala.
The Author I am currently employed as (an enthusiastic) baseball player, football coach, cook, chauffeur, therapist, human trampoline, ER attendant - yes, I am a full-time mother of two - Advait (6 years) and Vedant (3 years). In my past life (discarded 4 months ago), I was an Ass. VP for custom research - but that was too uni-dimensional. I also teach devotional songs to children. In exchange I receive baleful looks, bored-to-death tears- and even an occasional thank you. I am married to a wonderfully liberated person- Sridharan- causing me to vent in a piece called 'The Frustrated Feminist.'
Brilliantly written, Shalu. Kannagi’s story has always intrigued me. I have also wondered, growing up watching the movies and reading the stories about Kannagi about why Kannagi was potrayed such. Her blind acceptance of Kovalan’s adultery, her reaction to his murder are certainly worth more thought and discussion.
As a mom to a daughter, I am not sure of the message Kannagi’s story potrays to young girl’s minds. Perhaps I need to actually read the entire epic to really know.
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ShuKthi Reply:
October 7th, 2009 at
An intriguing and much needed re-write of the original story. Thank you!
Also, in response to Devi, my mother narrated many stories from Indian literature, mythology and ‘history’ to me growing up. Her method of narration was rather unique, though! She usually interspersed the story with her own feminist critique/ alternate imaginings. This influenced me powerfully growing up. She was also careful to point out the stories were often written by men, and that the alternate/ hidden stories she imagined might have been the real story as well! To my mother, nothing was sacred – the Mahabharata, the Ramayana, Silapathigaaram, Kalki’s stories, stories of the Independence Movement, of Gandhi and Buddha. But there was something to be learned from every thing. I owe her my feminist education. This tale reminds me strongly of her
ShuKthi
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shailaja Reply:
October 7th, 2009 at
Hi Devi and ShuKthi: I was watching this story enacted in the Discovery of India (the Shyaam Benegal series) and I was full of the same thoughts/Qs you have expressed above. Am glad to see similar reflections from you too!
ShuKthi: your mom sounds fantastic! If there are any other tales for which you recall her version, please do share. would love to hear!
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How I wish the story was written thus. But alas girls in India continue to be fed these stories of sacrifice and duty and devotion. And they are not versions like Shukthi’s moms!
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As usual well written, i enjoyed thoroughly….but i somehow agree with what kannagi did and also the fact that even today our gender doesn’t have much choices (atleast in India) . Its not about being meek or submissive but I would rather term it as “compromise” – for self, for kids or society.
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