MT is the pride of Malayalis all over the world.
There can be no other writer in India who has succeeded as equally as he has
in all the areas he worked in, literature, cinema, journalism and teaching.
The way he presents the emotions of the human mind,
the truthful manifestations of human relationships,
these are what make us feel that each story he tells is our own.
Namaskaram.
I am Kamal Haasan.
You must be wondering what I have to do with this show.
As far as I am concerned, I consider this a duty that I have to fulfil.
The film 'Kanyakumari' was the first turning point in my cinematic career.
It was a film that took shape from the pen of a writer
who has the capacity to turn all that he touches into gold.
When this writer is praised
and his works are celebrated,
the fact that I was a link connecting his stories is for me a blessing.
A series of stories that look at human relationships as states of bondage,
turn what we see outside us into minute observations,
see selfishness as a synonym for love,
allow despair and hope to walk together hand-in-hand.
With pride and gladness,
with a tinge of arrogance,
I present to you
MT Vasudevan Nair’s 'MANORATHANGAL'
Olavum Theeravum, one of MT’s early stories, has always enchanted people.
This beautiful love story is set in the Valluvanad region of Kerala.
The river known as the Bharathapuzha is Valluvanad’s pulsating artery.
The story describes a love relationship
that alternately brings together and then separates the lovers.
This may be why, when the story was made into a film,
Baputty, the character Madhu Sir played became a hero for an entire generation.
The concept of love has undergone many changes over time.
There are stories like this written half a century ago
that still remain classics.
Is this not because even now in the hearts of human beings
are the same as when the writer described them long ago?
Is it not for a love of this kind that everyone longs?
Wafting over the Thaannikkunnu hill
And over the banks of the silvery Nila river
O come to me, my lonely dreams
As you wander continually over my mindscapes
Wafting over the Thaannikkunnu hill
This damned wind!
What a wind!
Moopan, matches.
Stop coughing and light your beedi.
Don’t blame the wind for nothing.
Who’s taking the boat today?
I am.
He’s spitting blood and can hardly stand up and walk…
still he wants to take the boat out!
Where’s that rascal, Baputty?
Kings, put it down! Put it down!
Who else now, to place a bet?
Move off, those who are not placing a bet.
Kings, put it down! Put it down!
Those who haven't put it down, sit down. Others, move away!
- Peacock, peacock! - Elephant!
Peacock, peacock, peacock!
Elephant, elephant!
You bloody swine! Cheating, are you?
Baputty, no!
Let him go.
Moopan...
Don't interfere in this.
Walk on, Baputty.
Abdu’s taken the boat. He’s going off!
You must go with him or this will turn out to be his last journey.
Mmm… hurry up!
Where to?
Moopan told me to take you to your house.
If you go anywhere near Vazhakadavu, I’ll chop off your hands!
You’re weak and helpless, yet you refuse to go home.
You know all about me and still…
The last 10, 20 years, Vazhakadavu is the only place
I’ve never taken my boat to in the daytime...
lest someone I know see me.
If I were to meet my sister today I would not recognize her.
They’re the mother who bore you, and your sister.
Whatever the crime!
Crime, indeed!
When Bappa, my dad, died,
Nebeesu was just a baby crawling around the house.
Even after Bappa died, and wasn’t there to work hard for us,
we never suffered any hardships at home.
Then men from the boats and rafts began coming to the house.
They’d give us money as they left,
buy us good clothes, silk scarves.
At first, when people made fun of us, I did not understand.
But as time passed, I understood everything.
I understood from where we got money
to buy clothes, and talismans, to cook ghee-rice at home.
This cold and wind are not good for you.
Cover yourself fully and lie down there!
Whenever I had money,
I’d send some through our brother, Mammad Ikka.
That’s all my mother and my sister meant to me, Baputty.
Allah!
Abdukka!
Can you give me a light?
I haven’t lighted the fire.
You have no regard for me at all these days.
Go and tell your woman!
She’s sure to have great regard for you.
He thinks he’s such a great fellow!
Why do you indulge in small talk with everyone who passes by?
Is it small talk I was making?
Come morning, they start to appear, one by one!
Who are you?
Baputty.
So…?
I’m coming from Nellikunnath.
Come in and sit down.
You are Abdu’s…?
I used to work with him.
I’ve brought Abdukka.
Here?
Didn’t he walk out saying he’d never set foot here again?
Has he come to his senses now?
Abdukka did not want to come either to this house or this village.
A man can manage in forests or on mountains while alive…
but when he dies, he needs a bit of land in the mosque-yard to lie in.
Oh God! Have you betrayed me…!
La Ilaha Illallah...
La Ilaha Illallah…
Come.
Nebeesu!
These are your elder brother, your Ikkakka’s things.
There’s no one else to whom I can entrust them. That’s why…
You wept hard enough to satisfy everyone around you.
That will do.
You and your mother are happy now, right?
You can do as you please now, behave exactly as you want to!
Baputtykka!
Are you done weeping?
No, I won’t weep.
I know Beepathumma’s daughter has no right to weep.
I waited, hoping that Ikkakka would turn up today, tomorrow.
As each boat came in I’d think, Ikkakka is in this one.
You?
I hoped at least Ikkakka would want to rescue me.
I’d lie awake at night, listening to the hoots and cries of the boatmen...
wondering if I would hear his voice among theirs.
Anyone can say anything.
But why does no one say...
what crime I committed?
If you know, tell me.
What crime did I commit?
Nebeesu!
Narayana! Narayana!
Where are you running to?
Did you know, Mammadka?
Our areca-nut store Kunju has discovered treasure!
Did you see it?
Well, they say he’s tiled the roof of his house.
And he doesn’t look anyone in the eye anymore.
Rascal, were you born only to spread envy and scandal?
Don’t you step into the boat again without paying the ferry fare.
I’ve ten nenthran banana plants that have borne fruit.
Please let me sell them.
Your nenthran banana plants have been fruiting for years!
Look, the ferry belongs to the Hajiyar. And we must render accounts to him.
So don’t climb into the boat without paying the fare.
Give me a small beedi if you have one.
Moopan sent this.
It’s the money he owes Abdukka after settling his accounts.
Give it to someone in his house.
In his house? I can’t.
If you could bring it this far you can go and give it to them yourself.
Baputty!
Did my son hate me as he was dying?
He did.
I know he did.
I am a fallen woman, after all.
There was no one who cared whether I and my children had enough to eat.
The children starved while the man in the house lay dying.
At that time, I did not see any of those who find fault with me now.
What’s the use of telling me all this?
Should I not speak of this to someone, son?
Anyone can say what they want about Beepathumma.
But there’s no one who cares to listen to what Beepathumma might like to say.
Come in and sit down.
No, I’ll stand here.
Where’s your home?
Much farther north.
You have a mother?
No, I’ve no one.
Nor have I ever felt I needed anyone.
I wanted to see my Abdu at least once,
to tell him to save my daughter, take her away somewhere.
Let me leave now.
Baputty,
come here now and then when you come to Vazhakadavu.
Baputtykka.
This is for you.
It was in Abdukka’s box.
Was this what my Ikkakka looked like?
I was 10 years old when he quarreled with my Umma and went away.
I remember Ikkakka only as he looked then.
Whenever I see that girl, I pity her.
She’s so gentle and modest.
But after all, she’s Beepathu’s daughter.
Even if she wants to live a life of dignity will people allow her to?
Anyone can say anything.
But why does no one tell me what crime I committed?
Chandu for a dot on the forehead. Chains. bangles, kajal.
What do you want?
How much are these?
6 annas, but I’ll give them to you for 5.
Want bangles?
Here,
take these.
An anna a pair. I’ll find the ones that have no joints.
Is the person they’re for fair-skinned or dark-skinned?
What?
I asked, is your girl fair-skinned or dark-skinned?
These red bangles will do.
What size?
Wow, for how many people are you buying them?
What’s the price?
Four annas for the whole lot.
Nebeesu!
That day, in my anger I said all sorts of things.
I was not upset.
I was wrong to say all that.
I should go. If people see us they’ll say nasty things.
I’m not scared of people.
It’s I who should fear people.
When are you leaving, Baputtykka?
I landed here intending to go back as soon as the burial was over.
And I’d decided never to come back here.
Somehow, someone seems to be holding me here now.
I don’t know if it’s because...
I’m thinking about Abdukka.
It’s getting really late. I’d better go.
That Sankaran should have taken the boat upstream
What is it, you rogue?
Why are you standing here by the river like a rooster that’s out on a moonlit night?
Why are you here, Mammadka?
Don’t bother about me.
I’m asking about you.
I’ll get going, I have to have a bath.
Wait, don’t run off.
What’s the hurry?
Give me a small beedi.
You’re happy?
About what?
Bunkum! Don’t irritate me!
I’m asking you, are you happy about that girl?
Yes, you are!
Then go to her mother, and tell her so frankly.
Both of you are past the age to lurk in lanes or under trees giggling and cooing.
She may be Beevathu’s daughter,
but she has never allowed her reputation to be tarnished in any way.
Don’t let yourself give her reason for it to be tarnished now.
Do you understand what I am saying?
I’ll tell you when it’s time.
Whom would I tell but you?
Tell me, I’ll conduct the wedding.
Sankara, where on earth has he disappeared?
I’m here.
I’ve been asking you to get the boat to the riverbank for hours!
These are too big. They will slip off
Put on the big ones above and the small ones below.
I’ll put them on for you.
Let me earn some money, I'll buy lovely gold bangles.
For what?
To give to a girl.
Give them to her.
I said, sit down there!
Ah, this strong fellow!
Are you frightened of him?
Sit down a bit longer.
For what?
So, I can go on looking at you.
You’ve never seen human beings?
I’ve never seen people whom I want to look at again and again.
I’ve spent most of my time in forests,
with people who work with wood, or on the river.
When I have money, I wander around the Kozhikode bazaar.
You haven’t been in any of these places, Nebeesu.
- Have you seen the Kozhikode bazaar? - No.
There are 10 times as many people there as at the Mambaram festival.
I’ve never gone beyond this river we’re looking at.
We must go everywhere. I’ll take you.
Indeed!
Wait and see. I have plans.
But before that--
are you listening, Nebeesu?
Yes!
I must have a house, a home.
I’ve been working hard for nearly 20 years.
I still don’t have a place to sleep in.
As a child, I slept in a teashop.
Then in the boat that carried coconuts from Ponnani
and in the warehouse in Kallai.
I’ve lived all these years thinking that I have only me for myself
and that that is enough.
Umma says
a boatman’s home is wherever he anchors his boat...
and that at each landing place…
Go on. At each landing place…?
- Tell me. - Baputtykka!
A woman at every landing place, isn’t it?
I know, Nebeesu.
But I’ve never thought of things like that
until I reached this landing place.
I must go.
Umma must be looking for me.
Are you asleep, Baputty?
No, Ikka.
Do you know something?
Good people on this earth are never able to sleep.
I have no money left.
I have to go.
If you don’t go, I’ll throw you out!
Marrying a girl is easy, but providing for her is…
Though you’re not that young, your hands are still strong.
You need a bit of land first, in order to dig and till it.
That’s what you must concentrate on now.
A boat is going upstream.
I’m going with them, Umma.
Go then.
But remember that we are all still here.
I’ll finish my work before the rains come.
I’ll come and see you when I am back.
See you then.
Okay.
Allah!
Come on, chickens!
Baputtykka!
Once I finish work, before the rains in the month of Thulam, I’ll be back.
As you please…
Don’t say that!
Until now, I’ve worked for people who didn’t matter to me.
Now, it’s for you that I work.
I didn’t say anything to Umma. Let the time to speak come.
What shall I bring you, Nebeesu, when I come?
Nothing. All I want is that you come back.
In the timber trade, once we give our word we never go back on it.
Business worth lakhs is transacted on the strength of the word we give.
We never utter an idle word.
If you put on such a sulky face,
I will see it surface in my sleep and it will frighten me!
I’m leaving, Mammadka.
Mackerel, big and small!
Buy fish for 2 annas, Nebeesu.
I’ll give him the money later.
What fish do you have? Only mackerel?
Isn’t it a blessing that there is mackerel even in this rainy season?
Mackerel, big and small!
Here, take this.
They look rotten to me.
They're not rotten, they're fresh.
Two annas’ worth.
Two annas’ worth? There won’t be enough to even get a taste, girl!
Here, one... one... one!
Here, two... two... two!
Here, three... three... three!
Here, four... four... four!
Here, five!
Quarter rupee’s worth.
- What do you want, Neeli? - There’s only mackerel, right?
Umma said she would give you the money later.
Even if you don’t have money, Nebeesu,
don’t you know I’ll give you as much fish as you want?
Sankara, push the small boat in and tie it up.
Yes, Mammadka.
Narayana, you sly pig!
Don’t try to get on the boat without paying money.
Hey, is there someone here to carry my boxes and things?
Look who’s here! Isn’t this our Kunjali Ikka?
Sankara, take out his boxes and all his things.
Carry them carefully. They contain very costly articles.
If you knock them against something, I’ll have problems.
I’ll carry this.
I’ve been to so many places.
None of them are as difficult to get to as our own village!
Which place are you in now?
Been in Salem nearly 8 years.
I’m fed up.
What’s the point of working hard somewhere and making money?
There’s no place as good as one’s own village!
That’s very true. One’s own village is always the best.
Exactly!
Isn’t this our Mollakka, our teacher of religion?
You haven’t changed a bit!
How could I have changed?
So, what do you do in Salem?
Business, don’t you know?
What’s all the news, Mammadka?
All good.
Want to smoke?
No, son.
If I smoke this now, I’ll start to crave it.
What will happen then?
My small beedies are more than enough for me.
Give me one.
I want one too.
- Narayana! - Yes?
Give Mammadka the fare for the ferry.
And my fare as well.
Can’t make out who he is…
Long time since we met.
Kunjali Ikka! Move aside!
Who’s this vidwan?
You didn’t recognize him from all the small talk he kept spouting?
I can’t see as well as I used to.
Have you heard of Aadinekallan Kunhavu?
Ah, the one who died in some fight or other.
His younger brother, Bichammu,
ate a sacrificial fowl took ill and died.
Bichammu’s daughter, Ayissu, who had a tongue four cubits long--
this guy is her younger brother.
My dear Kunjali, I never thought you’d come back.
Once you’ve made enough money, It’s best to come back home.
I must buy some land and start a small business.
Once you make money, shouldn’t it be used to live a life of pleasure?
Nair! The tea you serve today is my treat.
Okay.
They say he has four or five trunks as big as the wooden boxes
in which we store grain, all full of household things.
Our Mathu Amma says he has tons of gold and jewels!
He used to come and sit by this river
and fish in the days when Nebeesu’s father was alive.
If we were having a meal, we’d call him and give him something to eat.
You should see him now, Beepathumma!
So fair-skinned!
He has rings set with precious stones on all his fingers!
My God!
Isn’t the way people change magical, my friends?
Oh, God!
I don’t see my girl anywhere.
One-eighth kilo coconut oil,
coriander seeds for an anna,
half a pound of onions.
Five items.
Oil-cake for 4 annas.
Give that.
Just exchange this for me.
You owe me one more anna.
I don’t have it.
You can take back the coriander seeds.
Show me a cake of Mysore Sandal Soap.
Put it in here.
- What else? - Chillies.
Hey girl, stop right there!
Stand there! Can’t you drink this water?
You've come! Where in the world have you been all this while, girl?
I can’t go to the bazaar anymore. You can go yourself, Umma.
Oh, such a great proprietress! Her feet will wear out!
Moosakka the butcher stopped me on the way.
He ranted and raved at me.
Don’t borrow if you can’t repay a debt, we'll just starve.
That round-eyed fellow? What did he say?
- Who knows? - What did he say, girl?
I don’t want to be shouted at by fellows like him.
That sly rogue. I’ll…
Where are you going?
Sit there and stop screaming.
So, when did you become so great a fellow
that you feel you can stop girls who pass by and shout at them?
Give me the money you owe me, you can talk after you do so.
I’ll give you the money. I’ve never said I wont.
Don’t I know you well enough --
His father’s a (bad word), isn’t he?
What is this about?
I won’t bother to remind myself that you’re a woman!
- What will you do? - Moosakka!
It’s been a long while since she took 25 rupees from me
saying she’d give me her goat.
Until now, she’s given me neither her goat nor the money.
I never said I wouldn’t give him the money.
I’ll give it to him when I have enough.
25 rupees is not such a big sum.
It is, for me.
You still remember some of us, my child.
I can’t forget like that, can I?
The day I sell my coconuts, I’ll give you back the money.
Oh, listen to her!
Let me go back home. Nebeesu is all alone there.
Has timber started arriving from the hills, Mammadka?
From where else could all the timber you see here have come?
I didn’t see the men in the boats and rafts come in.
That’s why I asked.
Was it you or the Hajiyar who bid the highest for the ferry?
Listening to you, one would think it was you!
Wait, wait, don’t go.
Look, how sulky she’s become!
Listen then,
a load of timber came at night.
The workers gave me a lot of news,
including news...
of the person you want to hear about!
Don’t say things like that. I’m going.
Don’t torment yourself, girl. He’ll come.
Who is it? Ah, come in!
When people like you come, I don’t even have a place fit for you to sit down.
I’ll just sit here.
I came to look at the Namboodiri’s land.
It’s a good plot,
but not enough for my purpose.
Nebeesu, make some tea.
Son, I haven’t forgotten the money you gave Moosakka.
When I hear you say this…
Money is not that important.
Shouldn’t people help one another?
You must ask me for whatever you need.
Don’t hesitate.
With God’s help, if I could get this girl married
I would feel at peace.
What’s the hurry?
Whenever I go home, my elder sister nags me.
It’s she who’s really upset because I’m not yet married.
She’s absolutely right.
Shouldn’t these things take place at the right time?
Money and pomp don’t matter.
Shouldn’t one get a girl one really likes?
I promised Ithatha that if I find such a girl, I’ll marry her at once!
Good.
Nebessu, where’s the tea?
What’s the girl doing?
I can have tea later,
I’ll come again.
I just dropped in since I was passing this way.
What devil’s got into you?
How long I waited for you to bring a glass of tea!
Yes, we’ve so much milk and sugar that we have no use for!
Look, he’s an affectionate boy.
And the entire village says that he has a whole lot of money.
There must be many people in this village who have money.
What should I do about that, Umma?
You needn’t do anything. Just stop provoking me.
You’ll go grey, sitting here like this, that’s your fate.
All day and all night I keep hoping and praying
that he will be sensible and that a wedding will take place.
Kunjali Ikka asked me to bring you these things.
What things?
Rice, sugar and things for the household.
May we go?
No, come in and sit down!
Shall I make you some biriyani?
Why not?!
Why are you accepting all this, Umma?
Do you want me to throw them all out then?
Is it a crime that he wanted to do a good deed?
What will people say?!
They’ll talk!
Jealous people say whatever they feel like saying!
He must have liked you.
Maybe he wants to marry you.
So what?
Let him tell us so. Day and night I pray that he will say so.
Umma!
What does he lack, girl?
The mothers of all the girls who are ready to get married
are making offerings to the gods hoping to get him as a husband.
Nebeesu, this is not a gift to you from destiny. You should realize that
it’s thanks to the goodness in the hearts of all our people who have passed away.
The rains are very early this year and a heavy flow in the river.
I don’t want to hear about floods or surging waves or heavy flow.
The timber has to reach Kallai in 3 days.
No one will dare come to transport the timber until the Thulam rains subside.
I will take it,
but you must give me the money I demand.
You, all by yourself?
Don’t worry about that. The timber will reach Kallai.
Are you mad, Baputty?
A boss will say what he wants.
Is it child’s play, carrying timber through these floodwaters?
You idiot, you’ll die!
We’ll fix it then. How much?
500, if you agree.
I won the deal, Moopan. We did a contract for 500 rupees.
You fool, no one who took timber through the Thulam floods
has ever seen the shore again.
Don’t eat me up now. I need the money
For what? I’ve around 200 rupees after settling your dues.
Isn’t that enough for you, rascal?
I need that as well. I’m going to get married.
You?
Yes, Moopan.
Didn’t I tell you that day that I would ask you
for money when the time came?
Stop right there!
Who’s the girl?
She’s from Vazhakadavu.
The one younger than Abdu.
What?
Then you too fell into that trap?
What is it, Moopan?
She won’t come with you.
That old woman will not let her go.
She’ll come.
If I call her, she’ll come to the end of the world.
Just wait and see, Moopan!
Baputty, I’m telling you, don’t.
All that mother and daughter want is money.
Nebeesu!
Baputtykka!
- Umma! - Yes?
See who’s here.
When did you come?
Just now. I came straight here. I haven’t even met Mammadka.
When are you going back?
I can’t go back just like that.
All this time, I had a lot of work on the hills.
Moopan wouldn’t let me leave until I finished the work in the timber yard.
I used to ask the workmen for news every time they returned.
You’re well, aren’t you, Umma?
All I want is to somehow go on like this the rest of my days.
The waters are rising and no one dared bring the timber.
I told myself, I’ll face it, come what may, and set out.
I breathed freely only when I reached the open river.
Beeva Thatha!
Sit down here, son,
or your clothes will get dirty.
This is Baputty. He used to work with my Abdu.
Bring me some water.
Yes. Nebeesu!
You must be working on a boat.
I do that as well.
Why are you here?
And you? Why are you here?
Shall I bring you tea, son?
Um…
I’m going. Bye
He’s a gentle soul. He has no one.
There are a lot of gentle souls in this village.
I do not like them going in and out of this house.
That girl was squirming like a fish thrown on the shore
hoping you’d turn up today, tomorrow.
Squirming indeed!
I saw for myself!
What are you saying you saw?
Look boy, Kunjali has money.
But once it’s all spent, his fine clothes, his bluster will all disappear.
And so will Beevathumma’s courtesies.
Be patient.
- Be patient? - Yes.
Do you know, Mammadka, the last six months
as I lay in the forest, I thought only of her.
Kunjali is the kind of fool who thinks that
every fish that wriggles in the water will fall into his hands.
What can she do?
She’ll give in.
Isn’t she her mother’s daughter?!
Lying in the hall those misty nights, unable to sleep,
I used to keep thinking of what you said about a house for her and me.
When, risking my life, I set out in my raft,
the only image in my eyes was that of a home.
Did you see her?
I’m asking you, did you see her?
I did.
What did she say?
She had no chance to speak.
Phoo!
And you sit here now as if it’s the end of the world!
Marriage takes place in the heart.
Do you know, if a man and woman fall in love,
Kunjali and Beevath cease to exist.
Even God cannot prevent them from being with each other.
What are you saying that I should do, Mammadka?
Bunkum!
Who is that?
Who are you?
Is this a house where you can come and go whenever you please,
at dusk or at midnight?
And on what authority do you ask me that?
Vagabond! If everyone who comes to Vazhakadavu
thinks they can behave exactly as they please!
Look, Kunjali!
You have no idea who Kunjali is!
Don’t threaten me.
I will keep coming here until Beevathumma tells me not to.
You don’t know how strong the hands of the men in this place are.
Beevithatha!
Did you ask this fellow to come here?
I ask you, did you invite him here?
Kunjali, just go away now.
Imagine, it’s your mother telling you to go.
Go away for now.
I’ll explain to him.
I’ll go now.
If I see you or your boat at Vazhakadavu when day breaks!
Tell him what sort of person I am!
You won’t allow people to live in peace!
I…
Don’t do anything. What you’ve done is quite enough!
When a man comes at last and tries to get close to us,
you won’t allow that either!
Umma!
Go in! I’ll kill you!
Umma!
Keep this, Umma. I’ll go away if that’s what you and Nebeesu want.
No, I don’t want anything, son.
I think of my Abdu and say to you,
don’t ever come here again.
Your new suitor won’t like it
if he knows you came to say goodbye.
Why are you like this?
I paid no heed when the whole village told me
that what mother and daughter want is money.
Baputtykka!
I understand now.
I deserve this!
I used to float along like a piece of timber on the waves,
stopping where I reached.
Remember that I lingered a few days in Vazhakadavu as well.
Don’t go! Don’t leave me here and go away.
I waited for every boat that came in.
Do you know, Nebeesu,
when I came away this time, I had arranged for someone to find us a place to live in.
I’m going.
Fish that’s still squirming!
Let him marry her if he wants.
If necessary I’ll organize the wedding whenever it suits me.
What do you think, Sulaiman Ikka?
You've already spent some towards this.
Yes, I did business and made money.
If I spend money on something, I know how to make profit from it.
Did you know?
Did you hear the news?
Baputty has not left.
He’ll leave.
He’ll leave for sure.
I saw him with my own eyes!
Kuttetta, a light tea on Kunjali Ikka’s account.
Here comes a strongman!
If there’s a tiff Sulaiman is someone to be reckoned with!
He doesn’t walk around with a knife at his waist just to cut down areca nuts!
A tea.
Didn’t you hear? A tea!
- Yes? - Tea!
No one likes to leave home and go away.
When you think about it later...
you might feel that you made a mistake.
You shouldn’t regret it then or feel upset.
All I’ve ever begged God whenever
I called out to him was, ‘rescue me from here’.
There are villages outside Vazhakadavu
and people there as well.
So long as I can work, Nebeeesu you will not have to suffer.
Go now.
As I said, I’ll wait for you at the ferry.
Umma’s not here.
I know that. Good.
Umma won’t come.
As if she doesn’t know when she licks the money that I give her.
Move that side, girl!
Wait a bit.
You must be going to visit the bride.
You must call all of us for the wedding.
I’ll be there, helping to organize everything.
I didn’t ask for your help.
I’m coming from her.
I wanted to see her the way she looked when she was born before you did.
And I saw her. Now you can go and marry her.
Pig!
Yes!
Go and ask Beevathumma’s darling daughter,
marry her, instal her in your many-storeyed mansion.
Kunjali’s done with her!
You need luck, boy, even to taste my leftovers!
Sulaiman Ikka, all of you, did you know?
Kunjali Ikka and Baputty are at each other’s throats on the small bridge!
Kunjali, knock him out!
Kill him!
Don’t kill me, Baputty!
- Please don’t! - Nebeesu...
Didn’t she weep?
Didn’t she beg you?
She’s not a fallen woman.
You, who boast that she is, do you want to hear?
As long as he lives Baputty will not allow her to be a fallen woman.
She did not submit to you!
Not even the tiniest morsel of her heart will ever submit to you, Kunjali.
I’ll marry her, Baputty.
No!
Knowing all that’s happened, I’ll marry her.
Do you want to see?
Are there any more men in Vazhakadavu with strength in their hands?
I’m taking Beevathumma’s daughter and going away.
If anyone wants to prevent me, do so now!
My son...
Nebeesu!
I’ve come to take you away.
Go away, Baputtykka.
Nebeesu!
I won’t come.
No one can stand in my way.
I know everything, Nebeesu.
I won’t come! I won’t! I won’t!
Nebeesu!