Pungphai

    by Linthoi Chanu

    With utmost obsession, love is defined in Tomba’s heart. He has been watching her live and grow in her father’s house, hoping that one day, she would live in his. He hadn’t spoken much to her, can even assume he never did. However, to his many friends, every word uttered was mostly about her.

    ‘She wore red today. In this season of Yaoshang, she wears red. Can you imagine?’ Tomba muttered, remembering his encounter with Shanti in the morning.

    ‘We can’t. But sure you can.’ His friends giggled.

    ‘If you do not confess, Shanti might get married to someone else. Aren’t you worried?’ Another friend asked and he didn’t have to reply to something as trivial as that. Kula, his closest friend answered for him right away, ‘We can catch her anytime. What is there to worry?’

    If meant as a joke or an oath, regardless, they all burst out into a loud laugh.

    Such was their regular chat in the uku, the small culvert where they perched for their regular get-together.

    Regardless of the uku being considered the notorious, perhaps undignified place for lazy men who refused to dip their feet on the paddy field, Tomba and his friends ruled it with pride. Women seldom passed the path if they were seen gathered in the uku for they made calls as if the crickets in the swamp.

    ‘Sangita, tell your sister that I am waiting for her here.’

    ‘Memcha, you have grown so big. Bring me a pitcher of water for me next time.’

    ‘Hei, hei, turn and look at us, your leikai brothers too. Do not act so innocent and scared. We saw you hanging out with other boys…’

    The boys would yell their comments, and laughter and giggles accompanied as the women stared back at them with displeasure.

    ‘Let’s call it a night, friends. I am heading home now.’ Tomba bid farewell to his friends for the night and returned home.

    His quiet way back home is filled with Shanti on his mind. Shanti is known for her singing, her beauty, her coyness, her obedience, and her tidiness, everything fits perfectly with her in his life.

    ‘Your useless son is not back yet?’

    Tomba stopped. It was the faint voice of his father heard from the house. He prepared for his entrance. As he slid the bamboo gate open, he could hear his mother’s response: tinkling of dinner utensils.

    ‘I have told you many times…’ his father began but Tomba barged in with an innocent smile.

    ‘Smells good…’ Tomba sat by the hearth hiding his mother away from his father’s stare.

    Mother served dinner while they sat by the fire. Tomba observed his father tasting the dishes unenthusiastically. He picked up his plate and stuffed his face a mouthful with his hand.

    ‘Want more?’ His mother asked.

    ‘Sure,’ Tomba pushed his plate towards his mother. A grunt came from his father.

    ‘Ung, eat well so that you will have plenty of stamina to sit on the uku.’ Tomba could feel such regular remarks already forming in his father’s head.

    ‘At least, clean the front yard tomorrow or your father will try to kill me.’ His mother said after dinner. She cleaned the utensils and Tomba sat by the fire, pretending to wait for her but dreaming in and out about his life with Shanti in the near future. Shanti cooking with her head covered, Shanti cleaning while flirting with him in the kitchen, Shanti giving baths to their many children in front of their backyard pond…

    ‘Huh?’ Tomba wondered absent-mindedly.

    ‘Hoooo! Your father will kill me if you don’t clean the weed from the front yard! He has been asking about it! You lazy one!’ His mother yelled but suppressed her voice enough so that her husband didn’t hear her.

    ‘Sure, sure. Ung.’ Tomba nodded but decided to go to bed. There, he can be in peace, with just his thoughts of Shanti. Shanti would be a wonderful wife, no one can doubt that. How shy she would be when they lie together. Thoughts raced through his heart and all his nerves.

     

    Tomba sat by the front yard, contemplating his day’s duty. He rests his head on his hand and stares at the weeds. They have taken deep roots through the fertile patch of the yard.  His sharp dao will not do much good in mowing. There is an army of pungphai already pervading. Tomba pulled one starry spread of the stubborn pungphai grass. The fibrous roots refused to let go of any of the earth it claimed. Stubborn beyond acceptable paradigm for a grass. Tomba smashed the root on the ground so that he could force the soil back to his yard. In doing so, pungphai spread its seed violently. Such a dauntless plant, this one! Tomba left his dao untouched. He kneeled and puck out each grass one by one. A mere butcher on the surface wouldn’t do much good for this kind of green where their real strength and endurance are all hidden in the fibrous root system.

    The sun began to slide beyond the roof. Kula came by the gate.

    ‘Tomba, what are you doing?’ He rests his arms by the bamboo fence.

    ‘Can’t you see? I am uprooting these shameless grasses.’ Tomba pulled out a bunch, gritting his teeth.

    ‘It’s going to be twilight soon. Let’s go, I got the liquor too.’

    Tomba looked around. He was not even half done yet. He signed but stood up and went for the uku.

     

    The conversation on the uku sometimes became too political. Kula dropped some big names and now they wanted to make sure they were actively taking part in the village’s welfare. They shared innovations and investments for the many things that are needed in the village.

    ‘We are the ones with the privilege to sit around and think! We are the think-tank!’ One of them said with a laugh but nodding his head.

    Tomba sat quietly undisturbed by the chatter. He loves the occasional teasing of the women or daydreams about Shanti living a perfect life with him. Political talks bored him. He decided to return back home early again.

    ‘You are a waste of a friend. Drank all our liquor and now leaving for home early without contributing an ounce of thought to our society!’ Kula began as soon as he saw him leave.

    ‘Kula, I will buy the drink tomorrow. Please don’t be angry.’ Tomba yelled back without turning his face around. He continued walking slowly towards his house.

    What would Shanti say if he really confessed his affection for her that he had been bearing for a considerable amount of time in his life? Shanti is a woman of few words. Well, most women are but she is unique. She can speak with her eyes. She once smiled at him. That was fourteen years ago when he met her playing near the village pond. She is kind. Her melodious voice can charm even the forest gods. She is perfect. Tomba smiled to himself. He is proud of how much he can love her. He is going to love her for life. No woman, whatsoever, be it spirit or human, will ever replace Shanti in his heart.

    The thought of Shanti vanished as if a wisp of smoke when he reached his home. Under the faint moonlight, Tomba could see the grasses in their front yard being mowed. It was his father. He walked through the front door quietly. His mother is in the kitchen as usual.

    ‘There is no such thing as shame in you, huh?’ His father began.

    His mother tried to drag the attention to herself with expertise, ‘And here is your warm water, paba.’

    ‘A small yard just as wide as a palm! Can’t even mown it properly! You lazy cowshit!’ His father raised his voice even more, ignoring his mother with the water.

    ‘Father, I didn’t just mow it because…’ Tomba tried to explain.

    ‘Because you were late for liquor time with your friends in the uku? Is that it? What are you going to do with your life? Huh? Eat shit? You are seven and twenty! Feeding on an old man’s sweat!’

    Tomba knew what would happen again. He ignored it and sat by the fire instead. With a divine creature like Shanti nesting inside his mind, outer-worldly insults and chiding can hardly pester him as they used to.

    The fire crackled softly in front of him. His father’s reprimand drifted faintly around his head. What is clear and pleasing is the thought of Shanti, lovingly coming towards him. The hearth’s warm fire would be nothing when he rested in her bosom.

    A violent crash threw his thoughts back into the present. It was his father throwing the steel tumbler of warm water on the floor. He turned around and saw his mother sitting quietly with her hand on her forehead.

    ‘…No wonder you produce such a stupid son too! Are you two plotting to kill me? What is going on!’ His father continued.

    Tomba stood up, prepared to perform some sort of physical harm to his father but his mother intervened predictably. She holds him down, with expertise.

    ‘Very brave? You can beat me up anytime. Your mother tried to kill me with boiling water and now the good-for-nothing son wants to kill me for good.’ His father yelled at the top of his lungs.

    His mother pushed him out of the house.

    ‘Just go! I don’t want to deal with you either!’ His mother sounded hurt.

    Tomba wanted to protest over such a pitiful remark but she already shut the door with a loud thud, muffling away his father’s loud insults.

    It was dark without an inch of the moon in the sky. Tomba didn’t know where he was heading but he marched out into the dark path and it led him to Kula’s gate.

    ‘Kula! Kula!’ Tomba stood by the bamboo gate.

    ‘What happened, Tomba?’ Kula answered, idly walking out of his house.

    ‘It’s my father again.’ Tomba answered tiredly.

    The two stood quietly by the gate.

    ‘Let’s go and collect some liquor. That will be better.’ Kula led Tomba towards the frequented vendor nearby.

    The two went and sat behind a bush in the dark. Kula agreed with whatever Tomba had to complain about.

    ‘But all this, all this pain! I can only endure because I have Shanti in my heart!’ Tomba concluded his chunter.

    ‘Look at you, living in the dream world without doing anything much in reality.’ Kula began to laugh.

    ‘Do what? She knows I love her. She always hid whenever she saw me! Last summer…’

    ‘Oh, shut up. She is always away with her friends in mamang leikai. Do you even wonder why she goes there?’

    ‘Why? What’s there?’

    ‘Eh! Stupid man, she is visiting Ta Ingo. I think they like each other, or I heard something like that.’

    ‘Shut up! You know nothing.’ Tomba threw his disposable plastic cup away in a sudden fit of anger.

    ‘Why are you getting angry at me, you fool! I am just letting you know! She is running around meeting another man…’

    ‘But she must be just visiting Memcha! They are good friends!’

    ‘Stop yelling, you coward of a man! She has many good friends here. Why would she visit Memcha frequently if something is not going on with her brother? Maybe Memcha even arranged it! To make Santi her sister-in-law! Girls always do those silly things!’

    ‘Stop it! You are just making me hurt, worry over nothing much!’

    ‘Fine by me. I am just letting you know. Why so angry at me? You foolish coward!’

    ‘Stop calling me coward!’ Tomba leaned over and tried to push his friend but slipped and fell with his face down.

    Kula began to laugh louder.

    ‘Why would I call you a coward if you aren’t one?’ Kula laughed some more.

    ‘You will be sorry, I tell you! Stop calling me a coward!’

    The dark clouds must have drifted away, the moon came out again with a dull silver hue. Kula noticed Tomba frowning, flaring his nostrils, breathing heavily and fast. He laughed even more.

    ‘I am going to meet her now! I’m going to take her!’ Tomba stood up, struggling a little to keep his legs straight.

    Kula rolled on the floor. He kicked his legs dramatically in the air.

    Tomba flung his hands and ran towards Shanti’s house which was just a few gates away. Kula stood up and ran after him.

    ‘So we are really doing this? Finally?’ Kula whispered with a proud smile.

    ‘I said I am. Now, help me think up a plan to make her come out of the house. I think her father must be already home by now. If things go wrong, we will be in trouble…’ Tomba began to bumble.

    ‘Or we can go home? Why try so hard when you are scared for real?’

    ‘You will shut up or I will break your face!’

    ‘I say stop turning on me, you fool! Didn’t you come here for the lady? I am going in. Will tell her that Memcha is sick and that I was sent to escort her by Ene Beda. You can do the rest.’

    ‘What? Why? Wait, why should we lie like that?’

    ‘Tomba, you are one stupid man. Admit it. You think you like this girl and yet know nothing! Why would Shanti come out if I told her you would be waiting for her to kidnap? And more importantly! Most importantly, she will not be suspicious as most of us call her for injections and stuff.’

    ‘Huh? Our shy and timid Shanti is a nurse now?’ Tomba seemed genuinely surprised and proud.

    ‘Fool! Not a nurse. She took a training or something at the local health centre.’ Kula hit his forehead with his hand and sighed, ‘Forget it. Not the time to discuss all that! We are already here. I am going.’

    Tomba watched his friend walk towards Shanti’s house. He could feel his heart trying to burst out of his ribs, sweat tickling down his forehead, down his chin and neck. His wobbly body didn’t help him much with surmounting his fear.

    Shanti came out with her little pouch hung from her slender shoulder. She covered her head with a dark-coloured scarf but her face beamed with beauty, even when she seemed too concerned to smile.

    ‘Oh, Ta Tomba, I didn’t know you were also here.’ Shanti walked closer to Tomba and continued with a nervous smile, ‘I am glad you are also here and not just me and Ta Kula.’

    Tomba nodded but didn’t say anything. He walked further away from her, unable to breathe properly with her standing too close to him for the first time.

    ‘Ta Kula, how long do you think she has that illness? I saw her just two days ago. She didn’t tell me anything.’ Shanti asked as the three walked quietly towards Memcha’s house.

    Kula began to stutter but answered hastily, ‘ehey, Shanti, forgive a stupid brother like me but I forgot the herbs that Ene Beda asked me to bring. We need to go to my house first. Come, come.’ Kula turned on his heels and almost ran away towards his house.

    ‘Ta Tomba, why don’t we continue towards Memcha’s house? I don’t think Ta Kula will mind.’ Shanti suggested, looking towards Memcha’s house which was just a few steps away.

    Tomba shook his head and followed Kula. Shanti had to turn around.

    Kula went inside his house, came in and out a few times and at last waved his hand at Tomba. Tomba nodded and turned at Shanti, who stood there observing the two with her hands on her hips. She seemed visibly annoyed.

    ‘What is going on?’ Shanti asked, trying her best to be polite but also assertive.

    ‘Shanti, you need to come inside.’ Tomba said, mustering all the confidence that he could find.

    ‘But why?’ Now Shanti is no more polite. She wanted a reasonable explanation.

    Kula ran out and yelled, ‘Just grab her already!’

    ‘Grab who? Don’t joke around, brothers!’ Shanti turned around but Tomba grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside Kula’s house. Shanti watched in horror. She screamed at first but stopped when she noticed Kula’s family coming out one after another. Tears couldn’t be stopped but her lips didn’t open again.

    ‘Tomba, are you sure you want to elope with her? Shanti? Don’t cry, don’t cry.’ Kula’s mother said to Tomba, who nodded but refused to look at Shanti. She tried to fling her hand free but he grabbed it tight, tight enough for her hand to turn pale.

    ‘Go inside, go inside. We can all calm down and discuss what we need to do.’ Kula’s mother suppressed a smile as she led them towards Kula’s room.

    Tomba sat quietly while Shanti sobbed, rubbing her wrist. She scrubbed her hand as if she wanted to peel that patch of skin away.

    ‘It’s no use crying, Shanti.’ Tomba said, struggling to sound clear and audible.

    ‘You will go to hell!’ Shanti ran up and slapped Tomba as hard as she could. Tomba cupped the sting with his hand but didn’t react.

    Shanti cried the whole night. She refused to sleep next to Tomba in the bed. She lay on the floor soaking in tears, probably lamenting her wasted life, her stained wrist no other man would accept again, her lover who would be devastated by her betrayal, and her life and dignity lost to a man she barely knew. How deeply hurt, how can one describe but the tears that flood her eyes?

    Shanti’s elopement to Tomba was news everyone in the leikai wanted to know in minute detail. She was often perceived as the interest of Ta Ingo, a college graduate, teaching in a nearby primary school from the Mamang Leikai. Shanti is also a woman who passed her secondary exam. Such a pair is always a leikai’s favourite topic of romance. Now, to everyone’s surprise, Tomba eloped with Shanti. Some are quite sure, she was forced. But some did wonder why would she go out in the night with Tomba if she was purely innocent.

    ‘They tricked me! How many times have I told you? They tricked me! They told me that Memcha was having a seizure! I needed to inject her medicine and…’ Shanti yelled at the top of her lungs to her mother and aunts. They came to ask for her consent as per the tradition after an elopement. The irony is none believed when Shanti confirmed that she was taken out of her house by deceit. Her mother seemed to know but she refused to look in her eyes. Her daughter is now soiled. Even if forced or not, why would it matter? Who would want her daughter now? She seemed to accept her fate already. She shed generous tears but refused to give any response.

    ‘Be wise. They are men. If you show him too much disrespect now, whether you love him or not, you will never know what he might do to you once he becomes your husband! This is your fate. Crying and yelling will only hurt your reputation more.’  Her wise aunts whispered as they left.

    Shanti married Tomba. Since the day Shanti arrived at his house, he noticed even his father giving him some sort of approval of his life. He no longer abuses him with insults. He respectfully asked him to accompany him in the field. Tomba accepted it. He can’t sit around the uku anymore. He has a beautiful and smart wife to feed now. His life is turning around. Just as predicted, Shanti is his peace, his one true light needed in life.

    Shanti always woke up early in the morning, made them sweet red tea and cooked early meals for the family. His mother is no longer in the kitchen corner, inhaling smoke. Shanti brought with her a gas stove amongst her many wedding presents from her maiden house.

    It is in the dead of the night, Tomba has to pierce his heart into Shanti’s deepest truth. She abhors him. They lie together. Tomba would force himself and she wouldn’t refuse and yet she would look at him cold and lifeless. Her mind is elsewhere. In spirit and soul, she was never defeated. All this time, Shanti was still fighting. This, Tomba can easily ignore. She never disrespects him in any way. He won in all other ways, except her heart.

    He went to Kula’s house after what seemed like ages ago. Since his marriage, Kula went his way and moved on with his own life. He also eloped with a girl from the neighbouring leikai, one with consent and not forced like Tomba’s infamous process. To catch up, Tomba decided to visit him early that morning.

    As soon as he entered his friend’s gate, Tomba could hear Kula’s angry voice thundering over the voice of a woman wailing. He was beating his wife. Tomba decided it was a bad time and turned back to return home but Kula already saw him.

    ‘Shut up, woman! Look who is here! Oi, Tomba! Tomba! Come inside. Don’t go back!’

    ‘No, I will come some other time. It’s alright.’

    Kula ran up and stopped him.

    ‘My wife, she kept talking back at me. Can you imagine, this early in the morning? Yapping with his annoying voice! God!’

    ‘But you shouldn’t just use your hand, you know. Women are weaker already. It’s not nice.’

    ‘Ha! You have also been married for a year now. Haven’t tried smacking once in a while? It will make you wonder! Trust me! Women! They need it! We ain’t going to kill them. Just, you know, put them in their place.’ Kula laughed while his wife sobbed somewhere inside the house. Tomba gulped.

    That night, he observed his wife. She was serving his parents food and drinks. Peaceful, as always since Shanti. But, Tomba knew he was still the victim. His wife is not what it seems. She is no human to him. She kills herself every time she submits to him. How did she even do it?

    The elders went to their room. Tomba sat on the bed and demanded, ‘You should wipe my feet. They are dirty.’

    Shanti went straight towards the back pond, brought a bucket and started washing his feet. She did it with expertise. Her soft hands rubbed his sole gently. She is the most tender of all creatures if she wants to. Something that pricks Tomba even more for her hidden torture. To make Tomba, a perpetual prisoner in the purgatory of a bitter heart. She needs a lesson.

    Tomba stood up and slapped Shanti across her face. She looked up more surprised than hurt.

    ‘Are you stupid? Do you know how cold the water is?’ Tomba wanted to continue some more but Shanti stared at him without blinking. She gritted her teeth but picked up the bucket and went towards the kitchen.

    Tomba chased her into the kitchen and hit her some more. If she begged or even sobbed a little, he would hug her and apologise. He would promise her to never repeat it. He would tell her how it hurts him more to hit her like that. She covered her face with her hand and stood quietly. Tomba raised his arm again but this time, his mother came out and blocked him.

    ‘Tomba! You crazy! You crazy idiot! What have you done? Why are you beating such a loving wife? Are you not scared of the gods? You will be damned! You heartless!’

    His mother ran and stood in front of Shanti, which he used to do when his father lost his tamper for some other reason. Shanti won the war. She stood there with her head held high.

    ‘I am fine. Mother. Please return to your bed. I was stupid.’ Shanti spoke calmly.

    An ominous silence descended upon them as soon as his mother left the kitchen.

    ‘What is this about?’ Shanti demanded but with calmness.

    ‘So you know this is not about water being cold or hot.’ Tomba hissed, there were tears in his eyes.

    ‘Consider yourself talking to a corpse. I was dead the day you grabbed my wrist. There was nothing I could do back then. There is nothing you can do now.’ Shanti scoffed.

    ‘You bitching still? We are married!’ Tomba put his hand on around her neck.

    ‘You are, to a corpse! You murderer!’ Shanti choked out the words.

    Tomba let go of her. To her, he is a mere murderer. Nothing he ever felt for her would reach her heart. He can pretend he won just as when he forced himself on her but there is life to live and that cannot be with a living dead as a wife. Shanti clearly won from the very beginning. Tomba realised. He is indeed a coward. Tomba laughed, his eyes said otherwise. He put his hand gently over Shanti’s head. If what they say is true, that husbands are god, he would want to think that he could bless her, her life back. Shanti turned her head away in disgust.

    Tomba laughed some more. He walked out of the house. His feet could feel the soft bed of pungphai grass already crossing the steps of his front porch. Pungphai also won. He smiled.

    Tomba was found the next morning, hung peacefully from the Yongchak tree near his gate, his khudei wrapped around his neck

    Potsangbam Linthoingambi Chanu, known as Linthoi Chanu, is a versatile writer and academic from Imphal, Manipur. With a Master’s in English Literature from Pondicherry University, she has published works across genres, including the acclaimed children’s book The Child Who Played with Spirits and the speculative fiction Wayel Kati. Linthoi is also an Assistant Professor of English and has been recognised with multiple award shortlists, including the Auther Award, 2024 and the VoW Award, 2024.

    Subscribe to our newsletter To Recieve Updates

      The Latest
      • For The Love Of Apricots by Madhulika Liddle

        Nandini knew next to nothing about children

      • Bewilderness bby Devashish Makhija

        ‘there are no poems’ (a tribute to the poetry of Alok Dhanwa)

      • The big book of Indian Art by Bina Sarkar Ellias

        Post India’s independence in 1947, the establishment of the Faculty of Fine Arts

      • Smita Sahay Editor-in-Chief Issue 12

        Welcome to Issue 12 of the Usawa Literary Review

      You May Also Like
      • Untitled by Githa Hariharan

        First published in the collection The Art of Dying, Penguin India, 1993

      • The Anatomy of a Revolution, And What Remains Thereafter: Review By Monica Singh

        A novel rooted in our not-so-distant past, that captures the vulnerabilities of