Odiyan

Before the dazzling electric lights, there was an age of darkness. There was a time of twilight and glimmering lamplight and flickering torches and shadows. The people gathered in the light to tell stories of the darkness - of moonless nights, travels through lonely paths, near escapes and what happened to others who did not escape. The darkness harboured many creatures. They struck fear in the hearts of the strongest men; for what use are muscles against the supernatural? One of these myths (if indeed they were) was the Odiyan. The Odiyan is a man by daylight, a Paanan some say. He has a drug which gives him the power to change form and become an ox or a cat or a fence; or to snap his enemies in two by bending a twig he calls by their name. Odimariyal they called it. In Malayalam ‘odi’ means to bend and ‘mariyal’ means to change form. The victims of the Odiyan were mostly women…pregnant women. They say, when the Odiyan calls his prey, no doors or locks can stop the woman from going out into the inky darkness into the arms of certain death. They say, the thought comes from her mind’s depths and the pull cannot be resisted. Sometimes they find the broken body…sometimes they don’t.

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Karanavar, Keshava Menon’s diary

1100, Midhunam 12

It is most disturbing that my nephew has developed a somewhat confused sense of honour. I cannot imagine what gave him the idea that he is honour bound to marry the girl. I cannot seem to hammer into his thick skull the truth that she is a peasant and her being pregnant is of no consequence. However the matter has been taken care of. She will not see sunrise tomorrow. The boy will be fine - how long will an infatuation persist if its object is removed?

There seem to be some discrepancies in the accounts of coconuts sold from last month. Is Kochappan up to his old tricks? If he is stealing again I will have him whipped- son or no son. I just hope marriage straightens him out. Ammukutty is a good girl but I don’t envy her luck…to be married to my son. It is fortunate that Madhava Menon is desperate to have his nephew marry into money. No one would agree to a mattakalyanam if the deal included Kochappan. Shasthave are you done testing me?




1100, Kanni 24

It seems that happiness is not in my destiny. My son is quite a new man as have been writing every other day. I have seen the lout for so long now that each day I see the change and thank the gods for the miracle. I will never cease to wonder at the influence of a female. It is also a female, curse her, who has sent my nephew to his death. Today, they found a sandal near the chathuppu . There is no hope of recovering the body. Devi is distraught. Till now she had some hope for her son. Now there is none. From the day the Odiyan got her, he started drinking. My boy who never touched liquor turned into a drunk. What should I have done? Let him marry her? Throw mud over the family name? Never! Never in a hundred years and more. I have never repented my actions if they be for the family’s good. If my nephew’s life is the payment, I’ll pay. Duty must come before grief. Shasthave, what consolation can I give my sister?


Chanthu Nair’s diary

1950 March 14

A curious incident happened today. I got a letter from a dead person. I was only five when the Odiyan got Chinnammu cheriyamma. I remember my father cursing himself for leaving her alone at home. Later I learnt that she was pregnant at that time with the child of the janmi’s nephew. He died three months after the incident. It was just another story but the difference being that the girl was not the only one who ended up dead.

This letter I got today was signed Chinnammu. I have burned it after reading as instructed. It said that she had come to know of my decision to build an extension to the house. It also said that if I dug a hole about 3 feet deep to the left side of the old cow shed, I would find an Odiyan’s skeleton. The letter advised me to get rid of it because skeletons dug up can be a problem for us ordinary folk unlike some who can afford to dig up dozens.

1950 March 17

I was able to get the house to myself as everyone has gone to attend Janu’s wedding. I dug a hole at the place mentioned in the letter. I found a skeleton as predicted. I put the bones in a sack which I weighed down with a big stone and dropped into the chathuppu. I filled up the hole and planted some seeds for good measure. I am not a curious person. I don’t intend to pursue the matter any further. Let the dead keep their secrets. I just hope there are no more skeletons that I have to know about.

My Diary

1995 May 27

The supernatural has always been a topic of interest for people. I have always been of the opinion that you need not necessarily fear spirits. Isn’t the spirit the remnant of a person? An echo left behind after death and therefore of lesser vitality than a spirit alive and encased in bones and flesh? I am not a student of the occult and therefore I can only speculate. However I believe that it is necessary to fear living people. Humans can think, scheme, plan, moreover a hand is solid, it is real, it can hold a knife, it can take a life. But again, I also am human. I can also scheme and plan. I can cut off the hand that holds the knife – what is solid can be destroyed, what is alive can be killed. I believe in the knife I keep under my bed when I am alone at home. I believe in it because it was with a knife thrust between the ribs that my grandmother killed an Odiyan. My grandfather always said it was his blow with a piece of wood that broke the Odiyan’s skull. It was always their favorite tale and we never tired of hearing it. How she ran away after the Odiyan’s death and how he stayed behind to fake his lapse into grief, enslavement to drink and subsequent death. They always spoke with pride about the killing. They only ever argued about who had actually done the deed. But it just serves to prove my point – what is alive can be killed.

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A broken neck can be a cause of death. For a person well versed in the martial arts, it is easy to cause a broken neck. In an age where people did not deem it necessary to lock their doors, kidnap might have been easier to achieve. What if the Odiyan’s drug was something that rendered the victims unable to defend themselves? What if the Odiyan was a man with the necessary skills recruited by those with resources to eliminate obstacles in their path? If he is indeed a being of supernatural prowess, should we fear him on the nights when the old darkness comes back aided by our own incompetent electricity board? We can only wonder.