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Translated from the original Tamil short story pēykaḷukku oru vāḻkkai (பேய்களுக்கு ஓரு வாழ்க்கை!) from the 1992 collection of short stories titled makkattuc cālvai (மக்கத்துச் சால்வை) by S.L.M. Hanifa. The original collection is available at noolaham.org. If you have any questions, please contact ez.iniyavan@gmail.com.

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It was that time of the day when daylight retreated with a hiss, like a snake that had been trampled on…

The night was creeping in slowly, like charcoal face paint gradually spreading over skin, darkening everything it touched.

The plaintive wails of a distant horde of foxes assaulted the ears.

Even further away, the trumpeting of wild elephants from Vēlavaivil…

The “kyu, kyu,” warnings from the lapwings flying overhead, did they signal the arrival of ghosts at the river?

As if courage had slipped away, my legs froze, stubbornly refusing to advance, just like my heart did…

‘Che! I must see it today, no matter what,’ I tried to lift my courage up.

I adjusted the flashlight I was holding and started to walk slowly.

“puuk.. puu… puuk!”

My blood froze momentarily.

“Chee! Those ill-begotten pigs…”

My legs recovered and advanced again, hesitating with every step.

My mind was desperately trying to recall the words that the boatman’s wife and Refika’s mother uttered last Friday night.

With terror-stricken eyes bulging, wiping the trail of beteljuice—dripping out of the corners of their mouths—with the backs of their hands, they said:

“Doctor! Did you know that as dusk falls, a woman comes to the riverbank to bathe, stark naked, with hair flying. What a beautiful sight it is, doctor.”

“Really?” They took my disbelief as a challenge and invited Mariaṅkaṇtu from next door to bear witness.

“Yes! Doctor. It has been like that since the day the crocodiles carried away Sulaimānlebbe’s wife. Everyone says it is her ghost. She was a beauty, was she not, sir?”

“Then, I must really go see this.”

As if they wanted to shatter the resolve in my voice, they said,

“Don’t go, doctor. It will be a huge trouble if you become panic-stricken.

“Chee! Let’s see if anything can make me panic.”

I soak myself in courage and resume my steps.

Darkness had overtaken the entire sky. A howling wind, carried from some distant rain, chilled to the bone.

The sound of Vēlavaivil elephants trampling on the tall grass resembled the rhythm of washermen beating clothes on rocks in the river…

“Chak… chak… chak…”

Instinctively, my mind tuned itself to follow the same rhythm.

As I approached the river, all my senses sharpened.

‘There! A woman, stark naked… with hair flying. Surely the ghost must be hiding behind that terminalia tree over there.’

‘But ghosts’ feet aren’t supposed to touch the ground!’

‘So, are those feet planted in the river mud, human?

With heightened awareness, I move faster.

“Doctor uncle!” A tiny voice wafted through the darkness.

My flashlight made the tiny pair of eyes glint.

I remember seeing this child somewhere. A recollection flashed across my mind. I remembered. Soon after I was transferred to this town, this same child, carrying a baby on her hip, came to beg for something from my wife. My wife turned to me for my opinion!

“I know their kind. If you give them something now, they will sell it elsewhere, and return again tomorrow, begging for help. Forget it!”

Seeing my anger, the children fled.

It was the same little girl, here, at this ungodly hour.

“Why are you here so late in the day, child?”

She rubbed her eyes, blinked like a rock-horned owl, and responded slowly, pausing between each word.

“Ummā doesn’t even have spare clothes to bathe in. That’s why we come to the river at night to bathe. We have to return before the elephants arrive, uncle.”

I felt as if a sudden stampede of wild buffalos had churned the lake of my mind, thrashing their tails to fling mud all over my face.

I felt the landmine of the child’s words trapped me. My forehead throbbed with pain.

“My dear child, can you come to our bungalow tomorrow?”

The child nodded.

I wondered if an encounter with Sulaimānlebbe’s wife’s ghost would have torn my heart apart the same way.

I felt as if an unbearable burden had been placed on my mind.

My feet instinctively traced the return path.

On the way, the boatman’s wife and Refka’s mother waited expectantly.

“Doctor, did you see the ghost?” they asked in unison.

I shed wordless tears.

I walked on, as the howling wind shattered their questions.

As I turned the corner at the junction by the tamarind tree, I heard them mutter:

“The doctor seems to have taken a real fright. Adiyêy, Mariem, come take a look. Sir is in quite a state…”

1975