To all the women who inspired me, and who will recognise themselves... To Kanchipuram, a town that is not unlike Andavur.
Subhu looked at his office. It was now empty. No more portraits of his wife and children, no personal diplomas or papers of this kind on the walls. Just the immovable Mahatma Gandhi. Someone would come and clean it before Andavur's new chief of police moved in.
Time had come for retirement, and it made him very happy. Finally, he would be able to give himself fully to his real passion, ancient Tamil literature. Looking through the window at the sunny lawn, beyond the banian trees, he felt fulfilled. His world was in order. For many years, he had been the chief of police of a small provincial town, in the Indian State of Tamil Nadu.
Andavur was about eighty miles east of Madras, the State's capital, on the northern border of Tamil Nadu. This had satisfied Subhu's sense of balance: to the South, you had the rest of the Tamil land, to the North, the rest of the world. People here closely followed the evolution of Madras. They had all the modern comforts and women always wore fashionable saris. Yet, Andavur was only a huge village, where traditions had kept their meaning and gossip made police's work easy. It was a place of peace, where people cared for each other.
Subhu looked at the big board behind his desk. It summarised the crimes committed here over the years. For every year, there were a couple of murders, a few thefts, and some minor offences. Cases left unsolved: none. He smiled. He had done his job well, and he left his office with pride. Now he would be able to write and publish that book about ancient Tamil poetry.
Tamil had always been his real love. It was India's most ancient language, a language used by poets who preferred women to religion. Once it had been spoken over a large part of the subcontinent. Nowadays, it distinguished Tamil people from all the other Indians who had given in to Hindi. When he was young and impetuous, he had fought the Central Government who thought it could rule everything from Delhi, and against the imposition of Hindi as a common Indian language. A friend of his had even been killed in a demonstration. To this day, Tamils still refused to speak Hindi.
Subhu was proud to be Tamil. He considered his culture as the only real Hindu tradition. After all, hadn't Aryan, Muslim, Portuguese, French, British and so many other people tried to invade his land? They had all been more or less welcomed, they had somehow influenced Tamil culture, but they had never been able to really overcome its ancient and well rooted traditions. Through thousands years of turbulent history, Tamils had remained Tamils, true to their faith, true to their customs, true to their unique language. Their proud women never covered their head...
Speaking of women, Tamil Nadu now seemed under their rule. Wasn't the Chief Minister a woman? She wasn't even the first one to hold this position. She had been elected by a majority of women and several of them now held key posts in Tamil administration. It was time to retire... and write about all those poets who described so well their rounded breasts and their plump thighs, barely hidden under their sheer clothes. A long time ago, in the Tamil land, women weren't so shy...
***
Subhu came in the main hall wearing a white silk veshti and an Indian style shirt. He casually threw his brocade scarf over his shoulder. He looked at all his friends who had gathered for his last day at Andavur's police station.
"Happy retirement, Subhu !"
They had put up banners and flower garlands. Someone's wife had cooked payasam. Everybody in the crowd wore a khaki uniform, except a beautiful woman whose tall and slender body was draped in a bright pink sari. "Is she Subhu's sister or mistress?" asked Govind in Rama's ear, "at any rate, she's not his wife."
"Thank you, friends, I will miss you all. The door of my house will be always open, if you want to drop in and have some coffee with your old chief. But before I go, I want to introduce my replacement." Subhu smiled and remained motionless, happy to create a final suspense.
"Please meet Chief Kannagi."
Kannagi? Amazement bloomed on everyone's face. Kannagi? A woman chief of police? Meanwhile, in the silence following Subhu's announcement, Kannagi came forward, her pink sari flowing around her.
It was only then the men noticed that above her tall, athletic body, her face was incredibly intense. Her lips were narrow and her complexion dark, her black eyes seemed like thundering clouds. She looked around, trying to read in the eyes of her officers a hint of disbelief.
"Well, I'm glad I'm not her husband!" murmured Rama. She immediately stared at him.
"What were you saying, inspector..er... Rama?" She had read his name on his uniform's shirt. "Are you objecting to a woman being chief of police?"
"Not at all, Chief! I was just thinking you're the most beautiful chief of police of India, for sure!" She didn't even smile. Her eyes were like swords ready to strike him. But she controlled her anger and turned away.
"Well, I'll say this only once. I worked hard to be where I am now. Yes, I am a woman; but if I am your chief now, it's because I did a very good job. You have to give me total respect. If you do, everything will be fine and we'll learn from each other. If you don't, we won't need you anymore in this police station. I hope you all understood." She still didn't smile. She shook Subhu's hand and walked down the hall to her office.
"God! What a woman! Did anyone marry such a shrew?" said Rama as soon as she was far enough.
"Will you ever learn? As a matter of fact, yes, she is married," answered Govind. He had heard about her. She had a very good record. She had solved many crimes in Madras, where she was stationed before. Maybe she did it with the help of her feminine intuition, he mused.
***
As the evening sun poured its violent red rays through the window of her office, Kannagi put her desk in order and called Anandam, her driver.
"You can go home now," she said with her sharp, clear voice. She didn't expect an answer.
"But... Chief, how will you yourself go home? I have to drive you first." Anandam's voice was low and timid.
"I'll walk. After all, I live only a mile away from the station and I like walking."
Anandam nodded and left the room. Kannagi adjusted the pin that held the top part of her sari and opened the door. A freshly painted sign said: "Mrs. Kannagi, Chief of Police". She smiled. Finally. She was at the top. Now, no-one could ever be disrespectful to her anymore. She closed the door carefully and walked in the darkness of the hall. Downstairs, the guard dutifully saluted her. She murmured "Good evening" and took a small path under the banian trees leading straight to the street. Now that she was out of sight, she could smile. She breathed the evening smell of jasmine and listened to the incessant chatter of parrots, up in the trees. For the first time of the day, she felt her heart bouncing in her chest. She let her thoughts sink into the feeling of happiness.
She was walking unhurriedly when she noticed the black clouds on the horizon. They were like the Dark Lord bringing rain and fecundity to the earth, the promise of much needed water and good harvests. The smell of jasmine became sharper, as if the flowers wanted to welcome the God. It was such a happy and beautiful moment that she sat on the stone steps surrounding a pond, staring at the emerald green water.
The wind suddenly rose with violence, and in the distance the clouds burst into rain, like dark buffaloes running in the fire of the horizon. In a few moments it would pour over Andavur. Kannagi stood up and started walking at her usual pace, quickly. She went along the huge stone wall of the Siva temple. Near the gate, people were hurrying back home.
She looked through the gate and saw in the distance the large building of the temple. The courtyard was empty; not even a cow could be seen. Electricity must have been off, because everything was dark. She walked in, going straight towards the sanctum. The doors were open, yet no-one seemed to be there. Next to the stone symbolising Siva, a timid oil lamp flickered, softly reflecting on its polished surface.
"Swami?" she called for a priest. No-one answered. She felt the cold wind. The sanctum was so dark she could hardly see her feet.
"Swami? Is anybody here?"
Suddenly, she heard a noise. She shivered. What had happened? Why wasn't anybody here? She looked outside through the open gate. She saw priests pulling behind them a burning pack of straw, and leaving it next to the flagpole in the courtyard. She walked towards them.
"Swami? Did someone die here today?"
The priest looked at her with tired eyes. She was obviously Hindu, since she wore a red spot on her forehead. Then she must have known the meaning of this ritual. Why ask a useless question?
"A man drowned himself in the sacred pond. The temple is closed. You should not go inside."
"I am Kannagi, the new chief of police. Did you report the death? Was it an accident?"
"Glad to meet you, Mrs. Kannagi. I am Nilakanta Gurukkal, the head priest of this temple. We did report the death. The body must be in the hospital right now. We don't know who he was. Probably suicide."
She walked outside. A death within the temple compound was not a good omen. The priests closed the gates with enormous locks dating from another age and hurried to their houses nearby. She was now alone in the street filled with the early night, feeling the first drops of rain. She reached home just in time before the downpour.
***
That night, it seemed that the celestial Ganges had fallen on earth. It had been a short, violent rain. The sort of rain that floods the streets, but is quickly swallowed by the parched earth. In the morning, only a soft coolness remained from the storm, and the fresh green leaves of otherwise dusty trees.
The jasmine creeper which had reached the window of Kannagi's office was full of new flowers brought by the much awaited rain. The sky was blue as ever, and when she sat behind her desk, Andavur's new chief of police still felt deeply happy from having walked through such a glorious morning.
Suddenly her door opened, though no-one had knocked on it before.
"Amma!" called inspector Govind while he sat down in front of Kannagi, although she had not invited him to do so. She stared at the man, wondering what to do. Should she let her officers call her "Amma", which is a common Tamil term of address to a respected woman, but means "mother"? And what about his coming in and sitting without being told to do so? While she was pondering these points of etiquette, she noticed his pale face and frantic eyes. Govind was a tall, slightly plump man who had been in the police force for over twenty years. His face usually reflected a jovial serenity. What could have impressed him so?
"What happened, inspector Govind, to make you burst into my office like this and call me 'Amma'?"
"Chief... I'm sorry. Last night a pey was roaming in this city. I saw him. He also attacked two girls."
"A what ?"
"A pey." A pey. She suddenly felt amused. A "pey" is the Tamil equivalent of a demon, a sort of goblin. Sometimes these malignant spirits take possession of someone and he has to be exorcised. Often villagers pacify them by killing goats or chicken in their shrines, which, by the way, is against the law. But preventing superstition in this land is just impossible. Nevertheless, a pey is not police business.
"Come on, inspector Govind. You don't expect me to believe you. These superstitions are for villagers."
"I saw him. He was very tall and dark, with a huge moustache pointing upwards. And he had fangs. That's how I know he was a pey."
"It must be the joke of some mischievous student..."
"He had red eyes... He was moving so smoothly, it seemed like he was flying above the ground..."
"When did you see him?"
"Shortly after the storm."
"Had you been drinking?"
"Chief! I don't drink!"
"Still, I find it hard to believe your story. And what happened to the girls?"
"They came last night, about one hour after the end of the storm. During the rain, they had been seeing 'The wandering wind' at the Kamala Film Theatre. When they came out, it was almost eleven. Because of the rain, it was cold, so they hurried home. As they were walking past the Pillaiyar temple, they saw someone and were frightened, so they started running. He went after them, and as they were entering the well-lit Raja street, he caught the skirt of one of the girls. She screamed and jumped ahead. A man who was sitting nearby in front of his house came forward and the pey disappeared."
"Why do they think it was a pey?"
"When he caught and tore her skirt, the girl had a good look at him. He was tall, dark, with a big moustache, fangs and red eyes... Both girls came to the police station and immediately stated that a pey had attacked them."
"Well, only God knows the truth. Maybe they just had a fight with their sweethearts. They're probably girls with imagination. The question is, why do you, a sober middle-aged police inspector, believe to have seen a pey?"
"Whoever he is, someone tall, dark, with a huge moustache pointing upwards, fangs and red eyes roams around in this city, and we should try to find out more about him."
"You're right. Since you're too involved with this case, I'll ask inspector Rajesh to investigate. Meanwhile, I'm putting you in charge of finding out who is that dead man they fished out of the Siva temple's pond."
"What? Someone died in a temple? When?"
"Yesterday evening, before the storm. An unknown man somehow drowned himself in the pond of the Siva temple. He was taken to the hospital."
"Do we know how it happened?"
"Not really, the chief priest mentioned it might be suicide. No-one there knew him."
"Suicide?"
"Maybe. And don't go on with your pey. I know they're supposed to be the souls of people who died violently, or who committed suicide... The body of this man is in a refrigerated room, and you will see it. This man was very real, and now he's very dead."
"Yes, Chief... I will go."
"Tell inspector Rajesh about the man you've seen and who apparently attacked those girls. Then hurry to the hospital before the pey takes again possession of this body!" For the first time he saw her smile. He grinned back and left. As he was going through her door, he heard:
"And don't ever call me 'Amma' anymore. I prefer 'Chief'."
***
The doctor pulled back the white sheet slowly, as if to create some suspense. Indeed, when he looked at Govind's face it seemed he had managed to scare the inspector. Funny, he thought, that an experienced policeman should be so afraid of a corpse.
"Inspector ? Are you all right?" But Govind remained silent, his face pale, his eyes bulging out, his body shivering.
"When did he die?"
"Yesterday, at 4 p.m. They found him when they opened the temple in the afternoon. The priests called us and we came immediately, but it was too late. He had just died. The autopsy simply confirmed that he had drowned in the pond. His lung were filled with that dark green water. No trace of violence either. I'd say it might be an accident, but most probably a suicide. The pond is not really that big or deep. Any strong man like he was could have come out of it, if he had fallen accidentally. Had you never seen a corpse before?"
"I've seen quite a few, why?"
"You seem to be afraid."
"If I told you... You'd think I'm crazy, just like the Chief."
"Come on, speak up."
"I saw... I saw a man last night, late at night, and he looked very much like your dead body."
"Well, who knows, maybe this chap had a twin!"
"No, he was just like him, but he had fangs and red eyes."
"A pey? This man's pey? You mean you've seen this man's pey?"
"Who else? Do you believe in peys, doctor?"
"Well, you know, science cannot explain everything. I don't believe or disbelieve in this sort of things. I'll tell you when I see a pey myself."
Govind felt relieved. After all, if a doctor could believe in peys, maybe such beings existed. Maybe the soul of this man had become a demon who was now roaming in the city, seeking some way to give his own sufferings to other people. He had to find out who this man was, and why he had died. Then a priest would decide what rites would pacify this unhappy soul. Hopefully this man's family would buy the chickens and pay for the ceremony, and peace would be restored to Andavur. If he was really a strong spirit, they might even build a shrine somewhere on the border of the town, to house him...
While driving back to the station, he finally enjoyed the sweetness of a morning after the rain, the fresh smells, the lack of dust, the clear sky and the white sun. But what would he tell Kannagi? He'd better say nothing about the pey business.
Most probably, the dead man's wife had already reported his disappearance. He would send someone else to tell her what had happened. Then he would meet her and try to find out why her husband had committed suicide...
He was almost cheerful when he arrived at the station. But no-one was reported as missing. No wife had complained. Apparently, last night, the storm had brought back all the husbands to their homes before anyone got too drunk. Too bad. Well, it was still early. Someone was bond to notice he was missing. Here, some people disappeared but no corpse was left unclaimed. Everybody had someone somewhere who worried about him, mothers, wives, children, relatives, friends...
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Last updated in October 2004