(Translated from the original story in Malayalam by the author)

BY K. M. PANIKKAR

It was after an absence of over seven years that I had returned to the village. It was a most heart-rending sight that awaited me there. It was in the grip of a terrible epidemic of small pox which had carried away more than half the population.

After I had set up practice in Madras as a Barrister, my visits to the village had been few and far between. When my mother was living, it had been my custom to spend a week in to the year, during the summer recess, with her in the old family house. But since her demise, as my property was satisfactorily looked after by a manager who was regular in his remittances, I had felt no call to pay a personal visit. But the manager was unfortunately one of the first victims of the epidemic, and much as I disliked spending even a day in the village. I was compelled, by the necessity of having to make new arrangements for the management of my property, to spend a week there.

My first impression of the village after so many years of absence was most depressing. The whole place seemed deserted and shrouded in sorrow. A few old friends of the family came to see me during the course of the day and I felt very unhappy to see the sense of terrible fear in which they lived.

It was early on the second day that Ramunni came to see me. He was the hereditary Oracle of the local temple, one whose function it was to interpret the will of the Goddess on important occasions. I had as a boy seen him many times in his frenzy announcing to big congregations at the temple the commands of the Deity.

I had a shock when I saw him this time. His face was wizened and thin. His eyes were sunk so deep in the sockets that I felt a sudden and involuntary shudder when he came near me. It was not his appearance that made him so repellant. There was an undefinable quality in the man that made even children and animals shrink from him, Yet in the village he commanded at least outward respect. Perhaps from fear, may be from a recognition of some power in him, everyone in the village gave him a seat of honour at all gatherings, though neither by birth nor by his worldly possessions was he entitled to be counted outside the servant class.

There was no doubt that the people of the village were more afraid of angering Ramunni than even the Police Sub-Inspector. After all the Sub-Inspector only visited the village once in a way. He might represent the long arm of the law and the power of the great Sirkar, but he resided 8 miles away and had also to attend to other things apart from the affairs of their small village. Ramunni was there all the time and he was terrible in his revenge. It was said he was adept in the sinister practice of black magic and that he indulged in secret nocturnal orgies in order to obtain control over evil spirits. Whatever be the truth, this much was certain, that he himself neither confirmed nor contradicted, perhaps from a feeling that it gave him an ascendency over the ignorant folk in the village, the rumours about his dealings with evil spirits. And many were the stories repeated by the villagers of the black deeds he had perpetrated on his enemies.

I felt uncomfortable in his presence, but I was anxious not to show any displeasure. I welcomed him with polite words, enquiring after his family and about his own health and reminded him, as an indication of my friendliness, of the pranks I used to play on him as a child.

I could see that the old man was pleased with the marks of honour. I had shown him, and soon he began to speak freely of the affairs of the village.

"Yes, the times are bad, young master," he began with a gloomy face. "The Goddess is angry, she is not being propitiated. Who cares? These young men educated in schools, they do not care for Gods. They think it is all superstition and magic, but see what happens! Last year we had a terrible cholera epidemic. And this year small pox is raging."

"Yes," I assented. "It is terrible. Nearly half the population of the village have died."

"That is nothing; the other half will also die if we are not careful."

"We must compel people to get vaccinated," I said, a little hesitatingly.

"Vaccinated?" he replied with a contemptuous laugh. "What will that do? Will the Goddess be propitiated? I tell you, young master, calamity faces us unless we do something drastic. Something which is provided in the Sastras."

"But what?"

"A proper sacrifice, with a magical circle round the village.’

I could not help a smile at the emphasis with which the old man said this. He noticed my disbelief and was silent.

"Animal sacrifice," I said, after a short time, "is not permitted by law, and we shall get into trouble if we do things that way."

"Surely," he said. "Sirkar would not interfere in a little thing like that, especially when the safety of a whole village was concerned!"

I knew that nothing I could say would convince him. So at the end I said that, if he were so certain and the other village elders agreed, he might carry on with the sacrifice and the magic circle, but that I could not be a party to any such thing.

That was sufficient for him. He went away pleased.

For the next two or three days the village was agog with excitement. The astrologer had fixed the auspicious time and the elders had worked out the details of all the ceremonies.

The Magician was to perform the sacrifice at the temple in due form after the animal consecrated for sacrifice had been taken round the village in a procession along a magic circle. Inside of this circle, the Magician averred, all symptoms of the Goddess’ anger will vanish.

The old man had only one complaint. The sacrificial animals selected were not of the kind he wanted. The village elders, fearing the wrath of the Sirkar, only agreed to one goat and two capons.

That is hardly a sacrifice, the Magician complained; but he had to be satisfied with the decision of the elders.

The procession was a grand show. The entire population of all the neighbouring villages had collected, partly in the belief that some good will result and partly to participate in the tamasha. In the village itself, every man, woman and child took part in it, in the hope of getting a double immunity from the dread disease. A caparisoned elephant, hired for the occasion, led the way, with the priest of the Goddess riding on it. The Magician followed, leading the goat which had been bathed and decorated. The crowd followed solemnly chanting hymns in praise of the Goddess.

There was no question that the whole village was moved by deep and genuine piety. There was not a scoffer among them. I watched it from my house, deeply impressed by the faith which the poor villagers were showing and their utter subjection to the fear that had grown with the calamity which had overtaken them.

The celebrations went far into the night. After waiting for a little time, I went to bed a little amused at the serious way in which the people had willingly followed the old man.

Early on the next day, Ramunni came to tell me the good news. There was a smile of triumph on his face.

"I hope the Goddess has been propitiated, and everything will now be all right," I said.

"Yes, young master, even more than I had ventured to hope, though no credit for it is due to the village," he said.

"But why?" I asked.

"The Mother took her own sacrifice. You know the villagers only agreed to a miserable goat and some fowls. I told them that the Mother will not be satisfied with the sacrifice, but they wouldn’t agree. Now She has taken her own."

"How?" I asked, a little intrigued at the man’s mysterious way of talking.

"You know my little grandchild Thankam? A sweet innocent child she was. She was walking in the procession next to me, and in the evening when we reached near the temple, she got in the way of the elephant and was trodden upon by it. She died immediately, in the very presence of the Goddess. . .Oh! I am happy," he added.

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