*kayyaala Poem by Kamarudheen Amayam

Before pulling down the Kayyala,
and erecting a new car porch.
I felt
I needed to have the consent
of the one who'd built it.

Wading my way
through the tall grass,
that grew all around the cemetery,
I went searching,
for that unmarked grave,
where *Valyuppa was laid to rest.
That old friend,
who had then came in between
me and the dagger’s glistening edge:
over his brave broad chest,
two red flowers now stood,
quivering feebly.

Saw Sainaba: my old playmate
who’d jumped off
from the shame of a forbidden drama-stint
Into a godforsaken well.
Nizar was there too:
Nizar, son of old *Mukri,
who during one of those fasting hours,
once secretly gobbled down a cherry
only to get it stuck fatally up his throat.

Beeran was there as well
PothuBeeran –
Who’d palm-scratched me awake
to that lewd, lewd world of his.

*Kasai Kunjumon.
Adruman of the ox-races.
Hyder haji, the village-shylock
They were all there;
as was midwife khadeeja,
who sleeps there,
wrapped serenely,
in that ever-familiar henna scent of hers.

I kept bumping into acquaintances Friends, relatives,
But,
There was still no sign of Valyuppa.

I wondered whether he had sneaked away;
Or that he’d be hiding somewhere,
cross at my increasingly infrequent visits;
Or worse, whether he’d be trapped,
for ever,
under the debris
while the mosque was being renovated.
I just couldn’t find him.

By the time I was back,
wet and careworn from the rains,
there he stood,
replacing the broken tiles,
fixing the leaks on the walls,
smiling fragrantly,
towering from atop the Kayyala.

Translation: Rahul Kochuparambil

*Kayyaala _ Malayalam word for a kind of ‘out house’
*Valyuppa – Grandfather (Malabar Muslims call their grandfather as Valyuppa
*Mukri – A worker at Mosque
*Kasai – Local butcher