A Tale of Injustice: Phulmaya's Struggle in Syauli Bazaar

“I have been subjected to grave injustice, Pradhan Baje!” Phulmaya, arriving suddenly in the sunlight, breathless and sweating, pleaded in an agitated and distressed voice– “I came here considering your house a temple of the gods! I have been subjected to grave injustice.”

“What happened, Chainjoheri?” Pradhan Baje asked in an indifferent tone, puffing on his tobacco pipe with a silver mouthpiece.

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“Sahu Kancha has ruined everything I own, Pradhan Baje! He has completely destroyed me.”

“Why are you panicking? Just tell me the truth of what happened, Chainjoheri.”

A ripple appeared on Pradhan Baje's forehead and vanished instantly. His thick eyebrows moved up and down twice. Then, Phulmaya recounted her tale of woe to Pradhan Baje in a trembling voice.

From the moment Sahu Kancha's supposedly kind figure appeared at her home, a terrifying conflict of two thoughts raged in her mind. If there was any enemy in the world who sought to uproot the very foundation of Phulmaya's life, it was Sahu Kancha. If there was anyone for whom her heart burned with disgust and rage, it was Sahu Kancha. If anyone was ready to erase her existence, it was Sahu Kancha. If anyone had inflicted a wound on her tender heart that would never heal, it was Sahu Kancha's family. Should she go begging for mercy to the same person who had caused her misery? If not, what was the way to sustain her life, Phulmaya? If she went, how could she lick the dust off the feet of the wicked Sahu Kancha's wife? On one side were the gaunt faces of her children, wasting away from famine and hardship; on the other, the mocking words of the Sahu's wife. On one side was the love for life; on the other, the sense of self-respect. Is life just about bowing down, falling at feet, losing dignity, being fallen, and crying? Is there no such thing as rising, holding one's head high, fighting, winning, being free, and laughing in life?

Phulmaya had many sweet dreams, but she lacked the fertile ground to cultivate them. “Better to be mad than to die,” she thought despairingly, reaching the end of her mental conflict.

“You can leave that one earring. I don't hold people to ransom by asking for things they don't have. Alas! Considering our past favors, what haven't I done for you?”

“I need some collateral, Thuli!” Sahu Kancha said in a cunning voice after filling the millet.

“What, Ba?” Phulmaya was startled.

“This is the way of the world. No one knows what will happen. I am saying this for your own convenience– it cannot be done without some collateral.”

“If I had even a broken penny, may these Sun God destroy me, Ba!”

“Even if it's in kind, I need something.”

“I don't have it, Ba, I don't have anything.”

“You can leave that one earring. I don't hold people to ransom by asking for things they don't have. Alas! Considering our past favors, what haven't I done for you?”

An earring? Phulmaya was devastated. The earring her mother had given her before she died! A memento of her mother's love!

“Mukhiya Ba! If I cannot pay on the promised day...,”

“I don't know about long stories. Just one word, yes or no.”

“Ba!” Phulmaya sighed.

Chature carried the bundle of two pathis of millet.

“You trapped me in a net, Ba!”

“Don't add poison to the conversation. If you can pay on time, your property will be back on your ear; if you can't, we will discuss it.”

Like a mother returning after burying her beloved child, Phulmaya returned home crying.

000

The next day at midnight, Sahu Kancha's family created a ruckus, crying out that a thief had entered. The atmosphere was filled with fear, suspicion, and curiosity. Whispers began to circulate among the people. Fearing they might be caught in false accusations, the weak and the poor began to speak cautiously. They started walking while sniffing the path.

From the next morning until evening, a crowd gathered in the dirty, foul-smelling, and poverty-stricken Syauli Bazaar. Sahu Kancha sought the help of the Panchayat. He sent spies to every village. He arranged for surveillance in every house. Rumors spread throughout Syauli Bazaar that he suspected Phulmaya. Slowly, the news of that accusation spread throughout the village like a wildfire. For people tired of the monotony, jealousy, ignorance, and boredom of life, it became a very exciting matter. And people began to blow the rumors they heard out of proportion. They began to drift blindly in the flow of sensational suspicion. Phulmaya's ears became very alert. She was terrified, thinking that even the gurgling sound of the river, the rustling of mango leaves, and the sound of dry leaves flying were accusing her. Her heart trembled. Her lonely soul struggled.

Phulmaya looked at the old man performing the Koro ritual with curious eyes. An old Gurung man with thin, rough beard on his chin and a small mustache on his lips.

After it was determined that there was no trace of the thief, Sahu Kancha brought a Koro the day after next. Rumors spread that the Koro would separate the truth from the lies. They said the Koro's staff had the eyes of a god! After the mantra is chanted, the staff possessed by the truth rises from the ground by itself and, trembling, finds the path the thief took, reaches the place where the stolen goods are hidden, and buries itself deep. They said the Koro is the master of shamans. The Koro works wonders. Hearing all this, Phulmaya finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“I am under your protection, Goddess Kalika Mai!”

Phulmaya looked at the old man performing the Koro ritual with curious eyes. An old Gurung man with thin, rough beard on his chin and a small mustache on his lips. There was no special radiance on his face. There was no divine glow in his eyes. And there was no unusual pattern in his physique. An ordinary man of flesh and blood. Oh! Is this another trick? The old man performing the Koro looked at her steadily. Are those eyes the source of deceit and slander? Phulmaya was startled.

In the afternoon, the drama of the Koro began. Like children gathering around a strange foreigner with wide eyes, a long line of village youth, middle-aged, and elderly people followed him. The drums of suspicion and fear beat in the hearts of the weak and poor. The youth carrying the Koro's staff, trembling like a shaman, reached the cremation ground by the river. The Koro's master was right behind him, and behind him was a long line of people who had come to hunt the thief. The youth carrying the staff turned towards Syauli Bazaar. Phulmaya felt as if it was heading towards her own hut. Moving to the side from the middle of the crowd, overtaking the crowd, she reached home first. She felt as if the rush of blood from her heart was about to flow towards her mouth.

Sure enough, the Koro pointed towards her hut.

Reaching the door of the hut, the youth carrying the staff stopped, trembling. Phulmaya looked at him with eyes filled with anger and shame. Hundreds of suspicious eyes were fixed on Phulmaya's worried face.

“Why did you come here?” she scolded, murmuring with anger– “Find the evidence, otherwise I will wring your neck.”

The Koro's master chanted mantras over the rice and sprinkled it on the youth carrying the staff. The youth turned. He circled the market once and came back to the same place, standing and trembling. Phulmaya, holding a sickle in her hand, trembling and grinding her teeth, murmured.

“If you can, find the evidence, otherwise you cannot escape after staining someone else's honor.”

The eyes of the youth carrying the staff lowered and his head bowed slightly, and the miracle of the Koro ended there.

“The Koro has marked you, Thuli!” Sahu Kancha, who had come with seven or ten elders, said– “It is better for you to return the goods yourself than for us to search.”

“What did you say? What did you say? What did you say?”

“Why long stories? You are proven by circumstances.”

“By circumstances or by proven evidence?”

“Whatever you say, isn't it the same thing?”

“Don't speak nonsense just because I am an orphan.”

“God's eyes are on you, Thuli!”

“Don't mess with a poor woman like me.”

“This witch won't give up without being dragged.” Sahu Kancha's wife bellowed, pouting her lower lip– “You will see when you get stung by nettles, you thief.”

“If I am a prostitute, you are a demoness. You talk about setting up a shop of youth? You set up a shop of other people's lives. You set up a shop of other people's blood and sweat. You accumulated wealth by killing the souls of the world. And you still show off!”

“What are you showing off?” Phulmaya roared, shrugging her shoulders– “Did you look down on me because I have no one?”

“The thief has the loudest voice. Shameless prostitute.”

“If I am a prostitute, you are a wretch!”

“You are a prostitute, you are a loose prostitute. You are a prostitute who licks other people's leftovers by setting up a shop of youth at the crossroads.”

“If I am a prostitute, you are a demoness. You talk about setting up a shop of youth? You set up a shop of other people's lives. You set up a shop of other people's blood and sweat. You accumulated wealth by killing the souls of the world. And you still show off!”

“Wait! If I cannot evict you, don't call me Sahu Kancha's wife.”

“If I ever sit under your feet, don't call me Phulmaya.”

No one saw the thief breaking the windows or doors of Sahu Kancha's house. Although Phulmaya's hut was about twenty-five paces below his shop, Phulmaya, who was suffering from sleeplessness, did not hear any noise or movement. She could not say whether the thief entered Sahu Kancha's house or his mind.

Whatever the truth, Phulmaya's earring was now going to be lost forever.

The next day, the atmosphere changed. From early morning, people began to gather in Syauli Bazaar. Solitude, whispers, and strange unrest gripped the market. Everywhere, there was talk of theft, slander, Koro, evidence, and defamation. Sahu Kancha, satisfied with his own cleverness and prowess, sat on the raw porch in front of the shop with a happy face. Seeing the movement of people increasing, for some reason, a chill went down his spine.

In a moment, a group of people, furious with anger, surrounded Sahu Kancha on the porch. A cold wave of vague feelings ran through his mind. And he felt something unclear, something suffocating.

The argument escalated quickly.

“Either prove the thief with evidence, Sahu Kancha! Or answer why this illegal act was done.” Phulmaya's villager relative said to Sahu Kancha in a threatening tone.

“I... I... I don't know, Babu!”

“Search the house. Bring out the evidence. Otherwise, you cannot poke at the weak.”

“It is the Pradhan's wish, Babu, the Pradhan's.”

“Search the house, you destroyer of the country!” A pot of anger poured from the middle of the crowd.

“It is in the presence of the village elders, Babu!”

Turning his cowardly eyes here and there, Sahu Kancha said in a weak voice– “This is the village's opinion.”

“The village's opinion, you henpecked man?” A roar of anger, spreading a wave of sensation in the crowd, rose from under the mango tree– “Are you the village alone? Is there only your residence on this land? Is this earth your sole property? If you can, bring the evidence! Otherwise, today either your jaw won't exist or mine won't.”

“Oh Creator! I have only acted according to the prevailing custom.”

“Do you talk too much? In today's age, you use a Koro to strip others naked? You trample on others' honor? If your Koro separates truth from falsehood, why do we need police? Why do we need the Panchayat? Why do we need the government?”

“I acted according to the Pradhan's idea, Babu. Isn't the Pradhan the shepherd of the government's law?”

“Your Pradhan! Isn't your Pradhan just a bundle of bribes? Tell me, how much did you feed him?”

“I can stand the Pradhan here right now, Creator! I have no illness.”

“Illness?” From behind, a strong hand grabbed Sahu Kancha's topknot and a punch landed on his right temple.

“In today's age, you are the bandit who uses this superstition to cause such a disaster.”

Sahu Kancha's head was driven into the ground. And a kick landed on his head. Chature, who had pushed through the crowd, punched the Sahu in the nose, from which mucus was dripping, in a fit of enthusiasm. Phulmaya, trembling with anger and fear, stood leaning against the pillar of the hut.

“Hold your ears and say you won't do this again.”

“I am dying, Baba, I am dying! I made a mistake... I made a mistake!”

A rain of punches, kicks, and abuses fell on the supposedly kind Sahu Kancha. His lips, trembling with fear, turned pale. His eyes became watery. Like a fly struggling after eating poison, he moved his hands and feet continuously. A chaos never seen before in Syauli Bazaar arose. And that drama ended there.

The curtain of the final scene of the drama opened that same evening.

Silence had fallen over Syauli Bazaar, as if in a settlement after a fierce battle. The gamblers' den did not gather today. The steady rhythm of the madal and the longing and wild songs of the youth were not heard today. The barrage of dirty abuses did not break today. The sweet melody of the lonely Magar Kancha's flute did not play today. The fisherman brother's lights did not shine in the river pools today. Today, Syauli Bazaar was like a house in mourning. Very quiet and sad.

Disturbing the boring silence of the dark night, a noise came from towards Sahu Kancha's house. A light flickered outside his house and that light fell towards Phulmaya's hut.

“Get out now!” The drunken roar of Sahu's eldest son, Chakre, was heard– “Get out right now. You have no place in front of our house.”

People started coming from here and there.

“I will burn your hut right now, prostitute! Why don't you speak?”

Phulmaya, scared of what was about to happen, looked at him with wide eyes.

“You wretch, who ruins others' reputation by inciting the village. Listen! You must leave Syauli Bazaar tonight, right now. You who have become arrogant by living in others' backyard.”

“Watch your mouth, Sahu! No one eats anyone's rice for free.”

“Are you babbling, wretch? You who caused a disaster by inciting all the rogues of the village.”

“Drag her.” The Sahu's wife issued an order from the edge of the porch– “Set it on fire. Tear her apart.”

“Come if you have the guts.” Phulmaya flared up– “Come! Come yourself if you have the strength.”

Hearing her mother's order, the enraged Chakre shook the main pillar of the hut. When he couldn't uproot it, he kicked the wall. Then he tore the wall into pieces. His anger grew more and more, and a blind impulse surged through his veins. He broke the wall and smashed a nearby clay pot. A pool of water formed on the floor. As he kicked, a basket nearby overturned, and a chicken chick crushed by his feet died instantly. He tore the thatched roof of the hut with a long pole, and then, rushing forward, he punched the partition separating the kitchen from the outer room, causing it to collapse.

“Help! Help!” Phulmaya screamed.

Chature, who came rushing from the river like a gust of wind, threw a piece of wood that twisted Chakre's calf. The Magar Kancha came running, muttering in an unclear voice. And he grabbed Chakre and dragged him upwards.

Phulmaya held Nepti, who was clinging to her mother's waist in fear, to her chest. The air, like the heat of chili, swirled around her chest, and unable to hold her dizzy body, she fell down.

“If I cannot evict you by tomorrow's sun, don't call me Sarkini.” The Sahu's wife threatened from above.

“If I leave here without ruining your reputation, I am a Gaine.” Chature threw a full-mouthed reply from below.