Odiyan - someone who can change to anyone and anything- based on 1930's belief !

ODIYAN
Early time of Kerala was a misery. A time when its wealth were drained by the English, a time when it exported the enormous amount of spices to other country, a time where people used a burning bunch of dry coconut leaves as their torch, a time when only high caste people where allowed to wear or wrap a cloth around their upper body others where allowed only to wear dhotis, a time where few women, mainly belonging to low schedule caste, wore nothing to cover their breasts, a time when upper caste ruled others, it was time of late 1930’s, TIME OF ODIYAN.
Odiyan, is a Malayalam word which depicts a person whose looks are not known and who kills people by changing his appearances. Who is like a hit-man who can run over you and kill you and you would never even know what came and hit you. It was believed that people who were killed mysteriously in those days were actually killed by Odiyan. It was not advised to walk outside during late nights because Odiyan would kill you. It was also believed that Odiyan can see anything during nights like what you see in mornings. He had a special mix for this technique. It is said that the tiny embryo of a woman who is conceiving it in her early days of pregnancy is taken out leaving her to bear the pain and that embryo is hung on a sacred tree for days. They place a coconut shell underneath it. As days pass, the embryo starts getting dry and it gives out a liquid, which gets collected into the coconut shell drop by drop. This man, takes that liquid and would paint it around his eyes which gives him the power of vision during nights. He would kill you in any form. He would come as your wife and kill you. You will walk on the road suddenly you see a big rock lying down. You would jump across it and the rock raise automatically and hit you. Living or Non-living, people feared everything around them. His killing was raising and people complained it to their tham-bu-ran or the king.

“Tham-bu-rane’” a man with bare chest came running and stood near the steps that went into the king’s kott-aa-ram, the palace.
“What it is?” Vidyadhar came and asked. Vidyadhar was a man among the king’s men.
“Maniyan…he…he…” the man bursts into tears.
“What it is?” this time Vidyadhar said it loud hearing which the king, Shankaran Verma came out. The king was a tall bearded fellow. He came and sat on his chair and asked, “Why is this man crying?” the man was looking down as he belonged to backward caste he was not allowed to see the king face to face.
“Lord… Maniyan, my brother died yesterday.” He said.
“How?”
“Odiyan!” the man said still weeping.  Shankaran Verma rested his head on the back of his chair. He looked above at his ceiling. He was been irritated by the death rates. His father believed in Odiyan and thus didn’t take any efforts to find him but his son Shankaran Verma was adamant in finding Odiyan as he never believed in superstitious things. That is mainly because he spent most of his time with his British friends.
“ODIYAN…ODIYAN…ODIYAN… Enough of this stupid thing. Isn’t there any mean to stop this?” Shankaran asked irritated.
“If an Odiyan plans to kill, nobody could stop him.” Vidyadhar said. Shankaran rose angrily and said, “I don’t believe in Odiyan. How was your brother killed?” Shankaran asked the man. The man raised his head and within seconds, he looked down and said, “He was crossing the small bridge and he was found lying down underneath it dead.
“He would have fallen and died.” Shankaran said and interrupting him the man said, “It was not that deep, it’s barely a 3 year old kid’s height. Also there were no scratches on him”
“How can you say that he was killed by Odiyan?”
“People heard him crying loud, Odiyan!



Vidyadhar was late one night. He had some work in the palace and it was late night. He was standing near the steps and was firing his bunch of coconut leaves.
“Going home, lord?” Asked the palace cleaner who was cleaning his feet with water.
“Yes,” Vidyadhar said.
“Careful sir, you might find one Odiyan.” He said and smiled.
Vidyadhar walked briskly and his fire lamp gave him little light. He was walking through a field. His heart was rising hard. He was sweating. Odiyan fear was killing him. Slowly he was not walking but running. Suddenly he felt as if someone is pulling his dhoti from down. He shouted and took his fire lamp near to the side of dhoti and saw that it was stuck on one plant’s big leaf. “AH..” he breathed a sigh of relief. He took his dhoti and tied it. He took his fire lamp near to his face and he saw another face painted in red and blue standing before him. “AAAAAAAA….” He shouted and before he could guess, it was gone.
“Guruvayoor appa, save me.” he said softly. He walked slowly with caution. Every time he would turn back and see if anything is wrong or not. He saw a light coming from far away. He was relieved, as he knew that someone else is also coming. He saw the palace cleaner coming with a fire lamp.
“Lord, you still here. You should have been to your home by now.” he said and looked down.
“Oh… thank god you came. I think I saw Odiyan.” Vidyadhar said.
“Don’t worry lord; he won’t hit us because we are two. He hits only people who are alone.” The cleaner said. They both started walking and in distance, they heard a women crying loud.
“What was that?” Vidyadhar asked panicky.
“Nothing sir, I thing a woman is giving birth.” He said to which Vidyadhar said “This loud?”
“It’s really painful when a woman gives birth to a child my lord.” The cleaner said. “Yes.. yes… stay close to me.” Vidyadhar said.
“Sir, have you ever screamed in pain?” the cleaner was talkative. Vidyadhar knew it.
“Yes, one time when I fell into a dry well.”
“But you won’t scream now.” The cleaner said and pressed Vidydhar’s neck. “What…are…you…do..doing?” Vidyadhar asked. The cleaner slowly changed into King, then like Vidyadhar’s wife then like a horse and was continuously changing like people and animals. Vidyadhar gasped for air. He tried to hit the cleaner with the fire but nothing happened. “SQEEEEEEEKKKKKKK,” the man who was pressing Vidyadhar’s neck cried. The sound was unbearable for Vidyadhar. His eyes were slowly closing and at final stage Vidyadhar saw a face with so many bruises and also which was painted red and blue. Vidyadhar was dead and no one stood near him. Just a breeze of cold air wrapped the dead body. Odiyan was there.

Death of Vidyadhar was shocking news for the king. He was sitting on his chair and his room was filled with other eminent members of the palace. Shankaran looked at his uncle Madhavan and said “What are we facing uncle? This is the twelfth death caused by Odiyan in our village.”
“Nearby villagers are also scared to come to our village.” A man told.
“I think we have no solution for this. Let it go the way it is going. Someday it would end.” Madhavan gave the most irresponsible answer.
“What? Let it go? You want this stupid thing called Odiyan to continue its scary thing?” Shankaran asked.
“DON’T CALL IT STUPID!” Madhavan yelled at Shankaran, “Let me tell you one thing my son, I appreciate that you don’t believe in superstitious things but also learn to understand that there is something in this world which is above reality. A king like you not believing in superstitious things is rare in this period, that doesn’t make you to know everything in this world. There is something called black magic and its existence are proved by many. Believe it or not, Odiyan is real.” Madhavan said.
“I won’t believe uncle and I am sorry to say this.” Shankaran said and turned towards his one of the men and said, “Announce in the village that whoever knows how Odiyan looks and would give his details would get 50 gold coins. I am not going to leave this guy called Odiyan like that.” Shankaran said and rose to leave.
“Your fate is decided my son, stop acting foolish and start believing.” His uncle said.
“Thank you, uncle. I would rather believe in me.” Shankaran said and left the room.
After that, so many people came and reported about Odiyan. Some said he is tall black guy with red eyes, some said he has a tail which is pointed and which can strangle you to death. Some said he is like a child but deadly child. Shankaran believed none.
Shankaran was sleeping in his big room. His bed was near to the window. He placed it there so that he can sleep through the hot nights. He was dead sleep when he felt a chill. He opened his eyes and saw cool wind blowing from his window. He sat, rubbed his eyes and looked outside. It was as usual dark night. He again slept. Little later he heard sound of chain being dragged somewhere. He sat and looked out. Near to his room, outside, the palace’s elephant was tied. Tonight there stood no elephant as it was sent to nearby village’s temple. “Whose it?” Shankaran asked. There was no answer and the sound of the chain stopped. Wind is not that strong to move a chain thought Shankaran and slept again. Again, he heard a sound of chain been dragged. Shankaran rose and went outside to see what was happening. He came near the place where chain was kept. He saw a small girl and her legs been tied with this big chain. The girl had long hairs and looked cute and beautiful.
“What happened?” Shankaran came and released her from the chain. The girl smiled at him. “Where are your parents dear?” Shankaran asked but the girl again smiled. Shankaran looked into her twinkling eyes. She pushed Shankaran and started yelling “Believe…believe…believe...Believe...” she said the same thing and ran into darkness. Shankaran got up and ran behind her but couldn’t find her anywhere. He turned back and saw the elephant’s chain missing. Shankaran closed his eyes in shock and when he opened it, he was sitting on his bed. Was it a dream or reality? Shankaran was confused.

Next day the whole palace was been crowded hearing the news that the king had an encounter with someone. Everybody believed that it was Odiyan but Shankaran was firm that it was nothing but a dream.
“I told you to believe Odiyan,” Madhavan said.
“That was just a dream uncle.” Shankaran said.
“It was reality my son. Reality.” Madhavan said firmly.
“If Odiyan is that real ask him to come and kill me.” Shankaran said and left the room.
“Bhagavathiye, kaathu kolli-d-namme” Madhavan prayed God.

That night Shankaran was sleepless. Even though he was firm that there is nothing called Odiyan still his heart raced. He ate jackfruit. He cut it into pieces and ate it. It was late night and he was feeling sleepy now. He took his bed-sheet, wrapped around himself, and slept. Little later, he started feeling hot. He tried to get the bed sheet off but somehow he could not. He threw it down and it would fly back and would wrap automatically around him. This time he feared. Slowly the bed sheet started wrapping itself around Shankaran’s neck. It started strangling him. He gasped for air.  Both the end of the bed sheet was pulling its side. Shankaran’s face started sweating. He turned around and saw the knife which he used for cutting jack fruit lay at his side. He took the knife and stared cutting the bed sheet near his neck. He cut it so furiously that the bed sheet tore into two pieces. His neck was released. He rubbed it and saw the two pieces of bed sheet lying down. He sat on his bed. “Odiyan…” he whispered slowly. He went into his uncle’s room. He woke his uncle and said the whole thing that happened. They both went into Shankaran’s room to see the bed sheet and to their surprise they saw the bed sheet neatly folded and kept on the bed.
“Son, Odiyan is here.” Don’t sleep today. Be ready to face anything. Okay?” Madhavan warned him and went out. Madhavan said this and started walking towards the door. When he reached the door he looked at Shankaran and said, “Goodbye!” and went. Shankaran was confused about why he said Goodbye. When he came near the door, he looked out to check whether his uncle has gone or not. His legs and half of body were inside the room and the other half outside peeping, to check uncle. The door besides him shut in force, squeezing him between. He was dying. The door opened and Shankaran fell down. He head was smashed. His jaws were been displaced. He broke his hand and was lying around his blood. He turned and saw a shadow approaching him. He raised his head and saw his uncle Madhavan smiling. “SQEEEEEEKKKKKKKKK” Madhavan made a sound and within seconds he turned into cat and ran out. Little later everyone in the palace came running. He saw his uncle Madhavan wearing a different dhoti running towards him.
“Son…. What happened?”
“Odiyan… he was here.”Shankar said and died.


  Present, 2012
Ram a middle aged man was reading a book about Odiyan. It was late night and he lived alone in his house. He was sitting in his verandah and was deep into his reading, it was raining outside. When he completed his book, he placed the book down and looked straight. He saw a small girl playing with rain drops before him. She had longs hairs and a cute smile.

THE END


In those days people didn’t have much knowledge about cause of deaths which happened around them. A guy would have seen a shadow of a dry banana leaf hanging which would look like a man’s shadow sometimes. In that shock he may die and the story of Odiyan comes out.
Heart attacks, small falls, Asthma were some main cause of death in  those days but due to some of them die mysteriously, story of Odiyan comes out from there. The above is also just a story of how people died, but these are just stories which had no proofs and no one to prove. Slowly when people got knowledge about diseases and other things, Odiyan Vanished!!!!!
Or just went for a long holiday and would come back soon!

Diya- First love (a love story!)

Diya. first love !

My alarm though has very mild and sweet tone but still irritates me when it beeps in the morning. I raised my head and saw the time, 6: 30 am. I dropped my head on the world’s best invention, pillow. No matter what you say, bed is so interesting in mornings. Oh, by the way I am Saral, in Hindi it means easy or straight. However nothing in my life is easy or straight. Why? Well, so many reasons. I flunked twice in Tenth; at least twice I would have accident in a year and so many things. Moreover, I have never loved nor been loved and that is the biggest worry regarding living here in this world where you see couples all around roaming. I envy them. Seriously, I too want to walk holding a girl’s hand, conforming that I would not allow her to face any problems alone, I too want to kiss a girl assuring her that her future would be happy and I too want a shoulder to lie on to cry, smile and laugh through out my life. I too wanted to love.
I woke up after so many irritating sounds of my alarm. I study in DG Vaishnav College in Chennai and everyday there is usual for me but today that wasn’t.



Angel, name poets often use to express beauty, kindness of a girl but when I saw her, I thought Angel is just a word. Beautiful again is just a word for her, she is its extreme or may be beyond that. I stepped inside my college and that was where I saw her. She stood near the Nescafe stall sipping her coffee. I looked above and saw the sky, I thanked god for this day. I felt like Sachin Tendulkar, thanking God for his century.
“You are in love, my son” the god replied (Imagination, of course)

That whole day I didn’t see her again. I waited till the evening standing with security guard, like a guard but god was not gracious enough. I again looked above to the sky,
“Better don’t waste your time buddy, you don’t have any other work?” the voice came but not from the god but from the security guard,
“Oh, I was waiting for my friend.” I said and the guard looked into my eyes and smiled. He found that I was lying, obviously he had seen so many men saying this when they wait before the college gate.


I was in deep sleep, it was a Sunday. I got a call from my friend Ashish at morning 10.00 am, it was bloody so early to get up.
“Tell me,” I said half asleep.
“Dude, I just screwed things up.” He said.
“What?” I said scratching my head.
“Man, my bike is not getting started and Pooja is waiting there at Express Avenue. She will blast over me if I get late. Please… please… please, drop me over there.” He said. Sometimes these lovers especially “men” are so cowards. I mean before love they show how audacious they are to make a girl love them and later when they are in relationship, the women does the Audacity and men, just nod their head and Ashish was no less compared to “turning coward men.”
“Find an auto, fucker. I am sleeping.” I said.
“Dude... Dude… Dude... Come down dude, I am waiting.” Ashish lives near my house and damn him of waking me so early. 

We came to Express Avenue, a mall by 11. 30. I saw Pooja waiting for Ashish near the entrance. Pooja never travels alone; she always calls her friends also. She came with a girl. Her back was so known to me and when she turned, my head rotated like Robo Rajinikanths in Robot film. The girl whom I saw in college was standing with her, I again looked above at the sky and the voice came, “Fucker, why are you looking up?”  no, no not the god, it was Ashish.
“Hey, you are late.” Pooja said. I was looking at her beautiful (or beyond that) girl.
“whose this?” Ashish asked.
“Oh she is my friend, Diya!” she said and I just couldn’t hear their rest of the conversation. I was just looking at her like a kid looking at candy shop!
“Okay, fine lets go!” Pooja said.
“Okay, dude bye!” Ashish said. They went to watch movie. Diya didn’t go with them because she had some work. This was my best chance. I decided to talk to her.
“Hey, hi. I am Saral.” I said and stretched my hands towards her. She looked at me and as if it was a formality she said a HI. I was not going to leave her that. She was the first girl who bombed my heart and she is responsible for everything else.
“Coffee?” I asked in filmy style where you push your one eyebrow up.
“No have to rush. Got some work” she said and walked away without even looking at me. That was rude but I liked it.



Next time when I saw her was in the coffee shop of our college. She stood their wearing a red salwar kamiz, with much caution she held her coffee cup and with at most beauty she sipped it. Love is something which makes you notice small-small things which your mate does and apparently you like them all.
“Hi,” I came to her and said.
“Oh… you, er… sorry I forgot your name.” she said. I smiled and said, “Saral”
“Ya.. How are you Saral?” she asked.
“Great, actually bindass” I said.
“Hmmm… fine I have to go now, class is there. Meet you sometime else.” I hate her for this reason, every time she rushes to go somewhere.
“Next time, coffee?” I asked.
“Hmmm… lets see.”


We become friends, slowly. We never talk much but I was sure that I was getting closer to her. She always had one word answers for everything I ask. How you are doing? Fine! What do you do in free time? Nothing! I am afraid of her answers. Ashish knew that I am in love with her. He looked at me and asked,  “Why don’t you tell her?”
“No dude, I don’t want to rush!” I said. Ashish came near me and said, “Dude, I read a story written by friend, A WET SUNDAY. In that story hero did the same thing, waited for the girl to say the love first and at last he almost lost her in tsunami! I would tell you to say it as soon as possible or else your love might just get missed.”
I got feared, I never read that story but still it created something disturbing inside me. I decided to open my heart to her.
I called her to one coffee shop near our college. She looked awesome as usual. My heart was racing like anything. I could hear my heart beat saying, “don’t tell-yes tell…don’t tell- yes tell” she started the conversation, “So tell me, what you wanted to talk?”  a sound from inside said, “NO FILMY DIALOGUE, just be straight!”
I cleared my throat and said, “Let me come to the point straight away. I m in love with you from day I saw you first. This is my first love, I don’t know much about this still…” I didn’t complete but she raised and went of. I could see her from the glass door. She crossed the road wiping her tears. She took an auto and went. I was just sitting there looking at my coffee cup and the vapour. I shouldn’t have rushed. I will that Ashish and that story writer.

“All well huh?” Ashish asked coming to my house.
“Who was the story writer friend you said that day?” I asked.
“Sharath da, why?” he asked.
“I am going to kill both of you fuckers. She cried and went, you know?” I sat their crying.
“I shouldn’t have rushed.” I said wiping my tears. Ashish didn’t speak.


From that day, Diya never talked to me. Every time I met her, she would ignore me. I was broken day by day. And one fine day, I decided to talk to her. “Stop” I said holding her hand. People around looked at us. I mean in college, no one behaved so harsh with girls. She saw other staring at us, she turned and “SLAP” slapped me.
“What do you want?” she asked and I saw her eyes let a small tear drop outside.
“Seriously, I want to talk to you.” I said. She waited for sometime. She looked straight into my eyes, for the first time and said, “fine.”

We were sitting near the college canteen. She didn’t look at me.
“Look at me Diya.” I said.
“No, I don’t want to, just tell what you wanted to talk and I will go.” She said looking somewhere else.
“I love you.” I said and in a reflex she looked at me and said, “Are you mad?” I nodded.  “I am mad, very much. I love you so much. Even if you ignore I will follow you everywhere,” I said.
“You can’t.” she said
“I can.”
“No you can’t. You can’t follow me till my grave.” I don’t know why she said but I was in a shock when she said this.
“I won’t let you die, for sure.”  I assured.
“You can’t stop my death Saral. My date is fixed.” She said and I was blown out. “What?” I asked.
“Did you hear a story about a girl who was gang raped in Delhi?” again she confused me.
“No.”
“Then search in some website, you might find it. You will find a case of a beautiful girl being raped by a gang of four people. She was…” emotions blocked her throat but she insisted to continue it. She fought with her emotions and talked. “… she was coming back from her college, late of course but suddenly four drunken people came and…. And….er…. raped her. They tore her dress and by the time she could fight back, they won over her.” She looked at me and for the first time I avoided her eye contact. She continued, “People laughed made fun of her father. Her father couldn’t face the insult and hung himself on a fan. She was left alone with her mom. She decided to move to Chennai. She came here and to her surprise God gave her another gift called, AIDS. She was broken but she was adamant to live in this world. No one loved her from that day. She lost all happiness in her life after that. She couldn’t complete her journey. And one fine day a boy comes and proposes her. Is she in a state to love him?” I was scattered when I understood that she was telling her story to me. She will die soon.
“Still I love you,” I said. She got pissed off this time and started blowing her anger on me. “Are you sick? I am telling you that I will die soon but still you are blabbering like idiot.”
“I love you.” I again said.
“You lost your mind.” She said and started walking but I again spoke, “I love you Diya.  I love YOU not your body or your beauty. I just love you. You said that your journey stopped at one place and you never moved from there but my love can push you beyond the limits of happiness you lost one point of time and of course, you could complete your journey holding my hands tight. You don’t have to love me back but I have a small request, just spend a little time with me everyday and I can bring happiness back.”  I was unaware of how could I give back those happiness but my heart felt light and I had that strength of confidence.

She resisted this first but after my so much of compulsion and annoying phone calls she agreed to come with me. I took this chance; we roamed all over Chennai from malls to beaches. From zoos to cinemas, I made her life cherished. I talked to her, took care. I would not talk to her if she didn’t take her dinner properly. She was happy when she was with me but for me that wasn’t sufficient. I promised her to take her journey beyond happiness; I cracked jokes, spent my most of the time with her and showed her all joys of this world. I proved that her life is worth living. Slowly she enjoyed each moment of her life and later she would not talk to me if I didn’t take my lunch.

We both sat on a bench of her favourite park. I bought her a cotton candy. She ate it and you would forgot everything around and watch that beauty of eating a cotton candy.
“I love you,” I said looking at her. She stopped her eating and turned towards me. She avoided the eye contact.
“Look at me.” I said.
“I can’t.” she said in a reflex.
“Why?”
“ ‘cause I am in love with you.” She said. I smiled looking at her. I let a tear down which glided through my cheeks unknowingly. She took my hand and then rested her head on my shoulder.
“Thanks a lot Saral.” She said.
“Why?”
“You gave a glance of happiness which I desperately wanted.
“I am born to give you happiness more and more. I am telling you Diya, be with me. What you have just felt is a trailer, there is more to see…. Diya… are you listening.” I looked at her and she was smiling and her eyes were closed.
“Why are you smiling?” I asked but no reply came. I lifted her head but she fell on my chest. My heart raced, “Diya…, Diya…” there was no use of calling her; God loved her more than me. She was dead. It was expected but I had a relief that she had a smile on face at the end. My first love was lying on my chest, smiling.  She loved me back. Now she is a proper angel.

There are so many people out there fighting hard to live in a society like this. No one understood the pain of being thrown away. Diya had that feeling in her. I erased it. I gave her happiness. To all you readers just give happiness in whatever way you can to your lover and people who desperately need it. Sometimes God is so cruel that he might love your loved ones.
Remembering Diya,
Saral.