JACK TREE

It was about noon when Venu got up after a deep sleep. It had been four o’clock in the morning when he got home from the airport. He comes home after a long five years from the gulf. It was five years before he had flew to the land of dreams, Saudi Arabia. At last he has to return leaving the dreams unfilled. When an agent came with a visa to a company, he trusted him. Though he was not interested, the dreams about future, the lust about to earn, and above all the sense of responsibility made him leave. But only when reached there, his dreams of gulf was faded and he could realize that the gulf is not a paradise of sprouting money and it is the desert of searing reality of life. About him, after reaching there expecting a company job, the years of five as a servant, was equal to five decades. Venu is the second son in his home. There are three sons for his parents. Elder one is Soman, he has once driven away from home for marrying a Christian woman, and his younger brother Rajan he is working in company in Coimbatore. Though he is thirty five or thirty six he is a bachelor. Venu has got marry before eleven years, with a sheer Nayar girl and he has a son of ten years old.
Waking up from the bed, Venu got out to the front-yard. He could not feel any apparent changes anywhere. Father was sitting on the corner of veranda looking at the labourers who were spreading coffee beans on the parambu in court yard. The clear blue sky, the big stone once used for separate rice corns out of ears of paddy, the old cowshed was once filled with stout cows, and a dilapidated hay stalk located in the corner of front yard… Everything is as well. There is no change, but only one, one change swallowing everything…
Mother… she is no more. She would sit on the sill of sit out, chewing betel leaf and areca nut. Five years before at the time of farewell she kissed on my forehead and said holding my arms firmly ‘I don’t know whether I will be alive when you return...Muthappa…bless my son…”. That was rainy morning. Still I feel, the softness of her wrinkled arms rest on my hand. After two years I have heard the news of her death. I wished to come, cruel Arbab did not allow.
Father who was sitting on verandah came near me and stirred at my face. I felt he was trying to read something. At that time she, my wife, entered with a tender coconut has cut its head. “Here is some ilaneer…take it…it’s from our grove.” I bought it from her and took a sip of cold tender coconut milk. Still father was gazing at me. After a long keen observation he said. “I thought you would have a little fair…” Venu did not felt replay for his anxiety. He does not know the severity of scorching sun of desert, and the difficult of grazing camels…does he? He only know his son was in gulf, but doesn’t I was a servant there, and toiling for survival, and it is not scooping dung of camel as simple as cow dung.
Father had to learn more about the land beyond the sea. But, I have not tried to change his dreams about the gulf. If how is the picture of the gulf in his mind, let it be so as well. So I merely replied for his questions without talk much about. After the long time conversation, Venu walked to then grove in the back of the house, where his mother has been buried.
Mother’s grave was in the north side of house. Venu felt that the grave, between four jack fruit trees has talked something to him. Mother is lying, towards open sky marking herself as two stones set up in the part of her head and leg, and a sapling of sweet basil. For a moment Venu flashed his eyes over the memories which he could not rub from mind. He found a jack seed fallen over the grave, has been starting to sprout. He uprooted the seedling. Jack seeds are right the seeds of memory for him. In child hood, he and his brother used to climb over the jack tree every evening after coming schools. How many ripe fruits had he taken those days from this ‘grand mother tree’? And how many beats had we got from mother for making jack gum on trousers and whole body. And how many scolds…Al though in how much rage, when we poke or tickle she would smile like a ripened jackfruit forgetting everything. The memories of jackfruits are many. We would collect jack seeds in holiday and fry it well. And on the day of schools we would go with stout pockets. When we reach school every students would gather around with greed, but we only distributed to those whom we like most. By that time also I was a hero.
But above all there is another memory presented by jackfruit when I was a degree student, it had been stolen each jackfruits every day, from this grandma tree near my mother’s grave. It was only a tree in this grove had full of fruits those days. The tree was located bearing full of luscious ripe fruit. As the smell blowing the nose of those who have gone through the trench beyond the grove were watching avidly on her. Our next door neighbor one Ayyappan asked to mother whether to sell jackfruits for reasonable price to him. Though father was there, she was the manager in those things.
But mother was not willing to sell it to anybody. There was only one jack tree in our grove. This was to eat her children and for her till enough. This was her stand. Ayyappan used to do jackfruit business during monsoon seasons. He collected jackfruits for low price from all places and exported to Mysore for high rate. It said, it was fifty paisa for mere a single piece of jack fruit in Mysore and Bangalur while it had been simply falling down and getting rot away here.
Each day each jack fruits. Mother suspected Ayyappan and her wife Susheela. She was not in well-being with Susheela. Because it had many times stolen some elephant yams, colocasia, sweet potato and some bunches of bananas too from our grove. Mother inferred this all was stolen by Susheela and her husband with the basis of proves. Thus, one early morning when mother got up she found one more jack fruit had missed. She examined queenly if any evidence was left. She traced the gum of jack fruit which had dropped from the stalk of stolen jackfruit. But it only left a little long, from there she couldn’t found where towards it could had gone. Eventually she concluded that it might have gone behind the fence. Thus she stood near the thorn fence, dividing our grove from Ayyappan-’s compound, and started to shout Ayyappan and his wife. I tried to pacify her, let it leave, was it only a single jackfruit, But I and Rajan, had also heard enough sheer obscenity from her mouth. At last Susheela took a chopper and came to mother. And she demanded and challenged, show proves if any, otherwise don’t utter any word thereafter by telling this she waved the sharp chopper towards mother. Mother was not ready to recede. At last me and brother intervened, and somehow we managed to solve temporarily.
That night mother didn’t get sleep. She thought, as Susheela rejected this censure so firmly there is a chance it was done by someone else. Next day mother asked to servant Mani to guard for two three nights. But those days nothing happened special. So, when I was consoling myself as the problem has ended up, one rainy night as I get out to the verandah, I saw in that vague light between the raindrops pouring down from roof, somebody was on the jack fruit tree. Thief…!!! I felt to cry out. But waited to clear the figure. Then I, I could realize the figure in the dim lighting flashed intermittently, it was Soman…my elder brother. I tried to hide myself not to see by him. After he had gone in the rain holding the jack fruit on his shoulder I get into house pretending nothing had happened. When I go to bed I managed to control the eye drop forcibly rolling from my eyes. My brother he is poor… Deeply I felt sorry for him. Soman was staying with his wife Annamma in a rented house, around three hundred meter away from our compound. He was staying there only because revenge on mother. He was in Trivandrum for long years for a job, it was he met Annamma first from there, and fall in love with her, eventually she eloped with him But as an ardent Hindu mother was not ready to accept a Christian girl at last Soman walked out with his wife.
Brother stole the jack fruits for Annamma. She was greedy to jackfruits, guava, mango, jamba fruits as she was lived in city. She won’t anything for meal if get a jackfruit. There were no jack fruit trees near their rented quartise. So, when the sweet smell of ripened jackfruits blow on the nose she would beg her husband “Please bring me one…” As a committed husband he did it to appease her from ‘own’ grove.
Next morning it was me awoke on hearing the outburst from courtyard. She was shouting on that anonymous thief with too gutter language to break the drum of ear. She cursed that unfortunate and she who gave birth to that progeny using severe cursing. The abusive and cursed words shattered from her mouth banged in my abdomen. When her cursing more severe on his mother I prevented her.
That day we, I, my father and brother reached in a decision to either cut or chop the branches of the tree soon. Thus we plucked down all jackfruits and trimmed all the branches and the leaves. Was there only the problem when jackfruits on the tree?
As far as my mind goes, there were no jackfruits on this tree for long years and never had I heard a story of stolen jackfruits from our grove. Thereafter Somen shifted his stay to long place. After mothers demise he became friendly to home.
When standing near mother’s grave Venu felt his mother laughed gently as if reading his mind. It might be as she known the real jackfruit thief. Whatever he felt her laugh was mixed with subtle pain and fondness.
Suddenly, when his sun reached him to tell lunch has been ready, he moped the eyes unknowingly filled, and toddled back him. When get verandah he saw Soman and wife is coming as heard he has come from Saudi. For that noon whole family was there for lunch, expect Venu’s mother and younger brother he was working in Coimbatore. Venu was sure there will be something special as his first meal after coming. Venu was eager to have a tasty Sadhya. He is really fed up with the food in Soudi, it has not salt and hot. Venu sat for have lunch on the floor, with his father, son, and brother. His wife spread banana leaves to them to serve meal, and she served. As Venu expected there are a lot special items. Amazing! That all are made by jackfruits. Chakka curry, chakka upperi, chakka puzhukku…so on.