Mallikai
by Chandi Sinnathurai
The Blood-soaked Jasmine
She was barely sixteen
When she disappeared suddenly one night,
Mallikai,* our little thankachi.**
We searched under the dark sky everywhere.
After a long night, the village head-man asked:
Could it be that our little flower has been snatched by hungry animals?
Mallikai! I screamed into the dawning sky.
Only the wolves and the stray dogs howled back.
Amma held her womb and wailed: thankachi.
The morning skies turned bright red and mauve.
An old man who had been to the bushes came rushing.
He stammered in anger: I saw Mallikai in a pool of blood.
Where? Where? I screamed in anger.
We sprinted like angry leopards.
Mallikai, our little thankachi.
There she slept like a withered garland.
The hyenas have devoured every petal…
The Parai Melam,*** wailing horns and mourners
The fire is lit; and the flame has engulfed Mallikai.
Amma returned home – to an empty space,
Knowing that her son will not return.
The flame that engulfed Mallikai
Has enflamed her sisters and brothers…
They will now each wear a garland in memory of Thankachi!
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* Jasmine
** Little sister
** Funeral drum
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