Imagine you are standing in the bus stop and a leading Kollywood director calls you up, “Come for the shooting next new moon day”, or the lottery ticket you bought gets the highest prize. Will you not be propelled to instant fame? That is what happened to me, when I was bitten by a horse!
Before you exclaim “Horse?” let me introduce myself and then the horse. My name is Krishna swamy. Shorten it to “Kichamy” and conjure up a face, you have my character and front elevation clearly mapped out. I am ordinary, both in my vocation and looks. Morning coffee, newspaper, some household chores, running to catch the morning bus to work; that is all to my daily life, a dissipating grind of an ant.
Wife, child, father-in-law, rented house, bathroom singing, a few flower pots and a radio purchased on installments; you have got a full picture of my unremarkable existence.
It was so, till the horse bit me!
The horse was also commonplace; just the one at the ‘jutka’ stand. On our way from our home to ‘Ahmed Stores’ is a hospital. There is a place near the hospital where they sell tender coconuts and empty bottles. Opposite, is the stable for these horses; just like you find them near such municipal hospitals.
There is sameness about all these jutka stands, whether they are in Trichy thennur or Bitragunta; long stone pillars and tiles precariously arranged on top of them with a plaque dated as far back as 1938 proclaiming the philanthropy by a member of local gentry. There will be a vat for water and a malodorous combination of smells from the harnesses, horse shit and wet grass.
The jutka men will be sitting about unconcerned. You may see one or two beautiful ponies which sometimes break loose and canter into the city traffic in a burst of fervor. This jutka stand was no different. As there was a slight drizzle, I must have drifted a little too close to the horses. There were a few horses standing listlessly, quivering their hide at unexpected places and chewing what their owners had fed them. They were old and decrepit specimens as any you can find. With permanent weal from the harness around their necks, protruding ribs and hind legs converging at the knees, they looked more like donkeys. One of them bit my arm at the elbow.
The sudden sharp pain from the bite made me look towards the horses. One of the horses after having done the act was smiling at me through its floppy lips. I could not find anybody to complain to; there was only a small boy with his gaze fixed elsewhere. I had a good look at the spot under the bright sun; I could see marks of its teeth.
The horse was unperturbed, nonchalantly chewing something without even looking at me. I gave out a curse in the general direction of the horses and decided to return home, looking frequently at the wound and telling myself that I should wash the wound in Dettol and apply some ointment.
My wife had not expected back so soon.
“Is the store closed, why have you come back so soon?”
“While on my way…”
“What happened?”, “Why are you holding your hand?”
“Come inside, will tell you”
“When I was crossing the Jutka stand in front of the hospital, a horse bit me”
“What!”, “a Horse!”
“Yes”
“Could a horse bite?” she was asking her father who was just coming in.
“Of course, but you have not asked me what it could bite”, he replied.
“Us, humans”
“chay” , her father said in disbelief.
“See here, your son-in-law is bitten by a horse”
“Surprising”, “Why?” “Did you tease the horse”
“No, I was just passing by the jutka stand”
“Why did you go near the jutka stand? Did you ask him to bring a jutka?”
“I only sent him to get a wick for the stove from Ahmed Stores”, “Why in the world did you venture near the horses?”, “See the mark of its teeth”, “God forbid, it is not poisonous teeth”.
“Doesn’t look like a big wound”, “It is better to show to Rayar for his opinion”, “Kalyani, take him to the doctor”, “horses used in Jutkas should not bite”, my father-in-law concluded as if he was a doctorate in Jutka horses.
“One such horse bit me, what could I do”, I replied.
“Every disaster waits for him to happen, appa”, Kalyani continued, “A little water ankle deep is all it takes for him to drown.. just as it happened once on the Uiyyakondan canal…”
“Don’t start it now”, I cut in.
“It is better to show it to Doctor Rao”, she said.
It appeared as the right course of action. But I was embarrassed to think of having to recount the experience.
Dr. Narahari Rao was our family physician. He was 60 years plus, but had a good practice. Though it was morning hours, his clinic was full with women, children, clerks and men in mufflers. His clinic was a small place; the waiting patients and the consulting room were separated by a glazed glass partition on which formed the hazy silhouette of the doctor peering into gaping mouths.
There was no place for us to sit. When the ‘boy’ came out, Kalyani was quick to latch on to him, “Tell the doctor we want to see him urgently”.
“Urgent! What about others”, the boy retorted.
“He is bitten by a horse, see how the blood is pouring”, she said, not willing to give up.
“Kalyani!”, “What did you say!”, “Horse bit him!”, “Couldn’t hear you clearly”, a mami in the crowd interjected.
“Yes mami”, “Got himself bitten by a horse” she replied mournfully.
“You keep horses”
“What business he had with horses”
Everybody was looking at me.
“Come in Kichamy”, “having trouble with horses?!” called in the doctor.
I narrated the entire story to the Doctor. Kalyani intervened to ask if the horses had poisonous teeth.
“I don’t know” the doctor replied, “In my 30 years practice this is the first time I have come across horse-bite”.
“My ill luck doctor”, “Getting into accidents is his second nature”, “He fell down with the scooter even before he started driving it”, “See the mark on his leg” said Kalyani.
“Does it pain?”, “I will cauterize the wound”, the doctor went on to light up the spirit stove.
He opened up a thick volume and ran his finger along the references at the back to check for horse-bite.
“Hmm, it is not even in the text book”, “Don’t worry, I will give you a chit, go direct to the hospital and start a course of injections” he said.
“Couldn’t I have those injections here?”
“No, I do not have those serums”, “Doctor Gopi is good and unless required he will not advise you to have those injections”, the doctor grinning, muttering ‘horse’ under his breath.
When we were walking towards the hospital, a cow was munching on a rag. “Be careful”, “The cow may take a bite”, Kalyani said.
“As if I wish to be bitten by every passing animal”, I was annoyed.
“Whether you wish for or don’t, such things happen only to us”, “Did the doctor not say that?”
“I too heard him say that”; “Horses normally don’t bite, but one has bitten me”; “What could I do?”; “May I go back to the horse and ask why it bit me?”; “Who would know that horses too bite”, I retorted.
By this time, a small crowd had collected around us to see us arguing. We went to the hospital and searched for Dr. Gopinath. There was a long bench with a row of people seated on it. I was mortified that Kalyani would make a loud declaration of my ailment with a view to seek concession to get ahead of the queue. Luckily, Kalyani took quietly to a seat. When we asked around the other patients, it was mostly dog-bites. There were a few cases of scorpions and rats as well. It was mostly written ‘Dog’ in the chits they carried. When the attendant collected the chits to assemble them in calling order, he was a little taken a back after seeing mine.
“Horse!!?”; “Who is Krishna swamy here?” he exclaimed.
“I am the one”.
“Something is wrong here; it says ‘horse’, could you please correct it?”
“No sir, it is correct; it is horse indeed”
There was a stunned silence across the room. The attendant ran in and the doctor called me in immediately.
“Please come in and sit down” said the doctor. “Rayar phoned me and told me about you”; “Where did the horse bite you?”
“You know the Jutka stand in front of the hospital…”
“I mean which part of the body...”
“I rolled up my sleeves to show the elbow”.
“Did the doctor cauterize the wound”, he leaned and took out a thick volume.
“There is no mention in the book about horse-bite”, Kalyani was trying to be helpful.
“How do you know”.
“Doctor Rao told us so”.
“I have never treated a case of horse-bite before”, “Let us not take chances and start a course of injections immediately”, said the doctor.
“No danger to life, I suppose”, asked Kalyani.
“Nothing to worry”, “But have an eye on the horse for three days, just in case the horse should die”, the doctor was trying to be convincing in vain. “Hope you remember the horse”.
“Mmm”, I said doubtfully.
“Watch out for 3 days?” Kalyani was curious.
“If the horse is sick, it might die; since we are starting the injections there should be no cause for worry, turn up daily at the same time”.
“Curse our fate...”, said Kalyani coming out of the doctor’s cabin.
We were conscious of the curiosity and mirth in the eyes peering at us and all the whispering that went on behind our backs.
I felt like shouting back at them. I did not. Kalyani wanted to have a look the horse on our way back home. I did not feel it necessary; still we went to the Jutka stand.
“Do you remember the horse”, asked Kalyani.
“I think there was a white patch on its forehead in the shape of a diamond”, I said.
When we reached the stables, it was almost empty. There was a boy sitting on a wall.
“Where are all the horses?”
“Out on their trips”, “Wait for a while”; “have they given you the ‘body’”, he said anticipating lucrative fare.
“What ‘body’?”
“What is he saying?” Kalyani was alarmed.
“How many horses you have here?” I asked.
“Are you fighting the elections in horse symbol?”, “How many horses you want?” the boy was enthusiastic.
“Just one horse, with a diamond patch on its forehead”
“Oh!, that is Kareem bhai’s horse!, will be here soon, has gone to the Kabristan” , said he.
“Is it alive?”
“Why? It is fine”
We bid him good bye and walked back.
“Make it a point to check about the horse on your way to the hospital”, instructed Kalyani.
Next day on the way to the hospital, I met with the horse.
“Kal Poocha na, woh adhmi aya”, the boy said.
Kareem bhai’s eyes were bloodshot even in the morning.
“Why Sami? Heard you asked about my sultan”
I came closer to the horse and ascertained it was indeed the horse.
The horse was looking fine, without her harness, much like a damsel without her ornaments before an oil bath.
“Is the horse okay?” I hesitated.
“Why?” Kareem Bhai gave a puzzled look.
“Your horse bit me yesterday, the doctor has asked me to check if the horse is alive and well every day”, I blurted out.
“Bit you?!” “My sultan does not bite people!”, “Kyon Sultan? Saab ko kata?”
“Behirrr”, the horse neighed in reply.
“A wonderful horse is this, has many buggy races for me”, “Kyon Sultan?” He was affectionately patting the horse on the neck.
“Behirr”
“God bless the horse, see here how it has bit me”, “has put me on daily injections”, “Can’t you keep your horse away from mischief?” I wanted to be severe but ended up half pleading.
“Injections?!”
Kareem bhai did not hide his laughter.
“Do you know how many times sultan has bitten me while feeding?” “Did I take injections?” “Kyon Sultan?” he was showing me his hands.
Anyways I was determined to continue with the injections, no matter the embarrassment; whether from the attendant at the hospital who made me a spectacle in front of others or Kalyani’s patronizing relatives.
My wound healed after a few days. But I had become a legend. There are many Kichamys, but there is only one Horse-bite-Kichamy!
-------------------------------------------------------------Translated by V.Ramanan
PS:
Without Sujatha Rangarajan many would not have done any reading at all in Tamil. His strength was in moving the story through conversations. When I first read this short story, I could enjoy the humor. When I now read it I enjoy the characterization through dialogues especially that of ‘Kalyani’, the protagonist’s wife, and wonder how very often fate pairs docile and meek men with street smart women!
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