Kolam

“How long will it take for you to draw a simple kolam*? Come soon. There is a lot of work to be done!”
Ranganayaki could hear her mother scream from inside the kitchen.
It was the month of Margazhi, a tamil month in which South Indian women exhibited their artistic and creative talent in the entrance or threshold of their houses. It was more like a “Kolam” competition. If one was a habituated walker in a by-lane or a street at dawn, one can observe the colourful designs of butterflies, swans, flowers and what-not.
Ranganayaki was good at drawing those dotted kolams. She got up early in the morning much before sunrise. She brought some cow dung and mixed it with water and made a paste. Then she swept the threshold of the house with broom and smeared the cow dung paste on the ground.
Her hand and her creative mind were doing all the work. At the same time her eyes were on the young man who was singing along with her father in the hall of her house. Sundaresan came at this time daily to learn music from her father.
Sundaresan was handsome and had all the qualities a woman would ask for. As he started singing, the whole house vibrated with his wonderful voice. By nature, Ranganayaki loved music and so she was smitten by his voice.
With the rice-flour in her hand, she stopped drawing the kolam and stood stupefied hearing him sing. Then with a sudden jerk, she came back to this world and continued to draw the kolam. She took the rice flour in her left hand, bent down and placed the dots casually and fast. She concentrated on connecting the dots and making a design out of it. The dots had to be joined in a sophisticated way to make a wonderful design. Deep concentration was essential because even if she did a single mistake, she had to wipe out that part and redraw again. Since it was all done on the wet soil, she was careful not to make a mess out of it.
At the same time, while she drew the kolam, she set a side glance at Sundaresan who was singing in the hall. She knew that he was setting his eyes on her too, while singing.
She joined the dots with the rice flour, looked at her kolam lovingly and felt immensely satisfied. Would Sunda look at her kolam today? She was eagerly waiting for him to come out.
Every day, while putting on his chappals and going out of the house, Sunda would look at it first and then look at her smiling with a slight nod of appreciation and walk away.
Was it love? Or was it a sign of only appreciation? She could not fathom. But those were the few seconds in her life which she enjoyed everyday.
The day rolled by and it was almost sunset.
She heard her parents talking.
“Sunda sent a message through his brother. He has got a new job. He won’t be coming from tomorrow...”
Ranganayaki was standing near the entrance. Her gaze slowly turned towards the kolam. Afte being tread upon the whole day, the rice flour mixed with the soil and her work of art which she had carefully done in the morning was not there.
“Ranganayaki, wake up..it is almost sunrise..”
Ranganayki woke up, took the rice flour and started drawing a new kolam..
Another day has started, but without Sundaresan to appreciate her kolam. There was no music that day. She bent down silently to place the dots with a ray of hope that he might turn up one day. The dots connected perfectly that day, rekindling her hopes and giving a feeling of joyful anticipation.
* kolam = rangoli