The Sixth Amavasya
The temple rituals had begun. As the bells rang out, Velayuthan Velichappad rose from the cold granite floor. Devotees prayed in silence. When the Sanctum doors opened to chants of “Amme Bhagavathiye!” he burst into a frenzied dance, chilankas jingling, as he went into a trance. With a profound scream, he struck his forehead with his sword, offering the blood running down his face to the deity as a symbol of unshakable faith.
As the bells fell silent, the Melshanti steadied the flame and anointed Raman Namboothiri, the Maharajah’s envoy.
Suddenly, cries rose from the back. An old man stumbled forward, weeping, carrying the body of a child wrapped in a blood-stained mundu.
“Amme Mahamayee, my vava,” he sobbed.
Gasps echoed as he unveiled the girl; eyes protruding, mouth agape, hair plastered to her face. A breeze stirred the tent, snuffing out the sacred flame. In the dimness, a silver anklet jingled faintly.
“It’s him! Velichappad!” the man cried. “My neighbour saw him with my vava last night. He killed her and probably the other five girls too!”
The crowd gasped. Every eye turned to Velayuthan.
***
The Accusation
“You fool!” Velayuthan snapped, his face flushing. “How dare you accuse me here before Bhagavathi Amma!”
He stepped forward, eyes blazing. “Yes, I spoke to Vava near Thekke Mana, but only to warn her about the tiger seen near the village.”
The old man laid the child’s body on the floor, then lunged at Velayuthan.
Raman Namboothiri’s guards blocked him, forming a wall.
“In the name of Bhagavathi Amma,” Namboothiri said calmly, “I ask you to surrender, Velayutha. Justice will be served before the Maharajah.”
The Melshanti bowed slightly, his voice calm but firm.
“Rametta, the Velichappad has walked the sacred path. His temper is fierce, but he is no killer.”
“I do not accuse him, revered one,” Namboothiri replied. “But he was the last seen with the girl. The Maharajah’s police will investigate, and justice shall be served.”
He turned to the guards. “Take him.”
***
The Fireworks
Cornered like a beast, Velayuthan raised his bloodied sword and tore through the crowd gathered at the temple grounds for the Vedikettu.
He paused briefly, then lunged toward a lone drum holding the sacred torch for the fireworks. The guards froze, realizing too late.
A deafening blast split the sky. One explosion followed another, shaking the temple grounds as gunpowder ignited in the sacred pits.
Wreathed in smoke and flame, Velayuthan disappeared, swallowed by the paddy fields that hid the secrets of the land.
***
The Retreat
Waddling hurriedly across the open field, he reached the Thekke Mana– a traditional Brahmin household that was opened only when the Royal dignitaries visited. He opened the steel gate and entered. The main house rose like a silent fortress, with its weathered pillars and endless corridors. It was flanked by an outhouse that housed the workers.
He noticed the outhouse door stood slightly ajar. The workers were likely still at the temple. Quietly, he slipped into the small pooja room and locked the door behind him. He sank to the floor beside a faded, timeworn portrait of Bhagavathi Amma, her eyes fierce, yet full of compassion. Closing his own, he prayed.
***
The Revelation
Hurried footsteps on the cobblestone path outside broke the silence. Velayuthan peered through the half-open wooden sills of the pooja room. It was Shankaran Kutty, the astrologer, entering the mana alone.
Velayuthan followed him inside, keeping to the shadows.
Shankaran moved toward the central courtyard, where the embers of a Homam still glowed. He crouched by the pit and began sifting through the ashes with twigs.
Velayuthan froze as he retrieved a delicate silver anklet and rinsed it with water from a pitcher. He had seen one just like it on the lifeless feet of the little girl.
A pair of blue ribbons and a torn piece of a silk blouse lay beside the terracotta pedestal of the Tulsi plant.
These weren’t just fragments. They were echoes of a life extinguished too soon.
Shankaran’s calm, precise movements now seemed deeply sinister.
Velayuthan stepped back into the shadows, his breath shallow, heart pounding like a temple drum. Amma had brought him here for a reason.
The truth wasn’t buried in the fire but was just beginning to rise from the smoke.
***
The Curse
Velayuthan pounced on him from behind and pinned him against the wall.
“Vela… what are you doing here?” Shankaran screamed.
“Don’t make a sound, or I’ll kill you,” Velayuthan hissed, pressing a hand over Shankaran’s mouth.
The edge of his sword glinted in the firelight. “Tell me the truth. Was that dead girl here last night? Speak or I’ll sever your head where you sit.”
“Please… spare me,” Shankaran whimpered, voice muffled with fear. “I haven’t done anything… It… it’s my late uncle!”
Velayuthan’s eyes narrowed. “Your uncle? Wasn’t he the royal astrologer to the late Grandsire of Travancore? What about him?”
“The Grandsire Rajah… he was a philanderer,” he stammered. “He… he impregnated one of his servants’ granddaughters. To protect his image, he had the poor girl killed and had her buried in the farmland behind the palace.”
He swallowed hard before continuing.
“But on one amavasya night, her spirit came to him in a dream wherein she vowed to wipe out his bloodline and cursed the land. Soon after, he died of an incurable disease. Then his son died suddenly of a snakebite. One by one, the family fell… and the land turned barren.”
Velayuthan’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. “So, what did your uncle do?”
“The current Rajah summoned him, desperate for an atonement,” Shankaran whispered.
“What was it? Speak!”
“He… he told the Rajah that to lift the curse, they must sacrifice seven virgin girls- one each on seven new moon nights. Their blood had to be spilled on the farmland.”
Velayuthan staggered back, stunned. “And Namboothiri? Was he assigned the task?”
Shankaran nodded slowly, “Yes… Namboothiri took it upon himself.” He looked up, eyes pleading. “He sent me to find the missing anklet, said it might’ve been left behind by mistake.”
Velayuthan grabbed him by the neck.
“I swear on the holy feet of Amma that I will stop the seventh sacrifice.”
“Vela,” Shankaran said, his voice low and broken, “six girls are gone. I’ll burn in hell for what I’ve done. But this much I can still do. Save your Lakshmikutty. She’s the seventh.”
***
Lakshmi
The Velichappad was not my birth father. He had never taken a wife. But he gave me life, claiming me as his own when I was about to be abandoned by the river, born to a woman cast out for bearing a child beyond the bounds of dharma. I called him Achan.
Achan’s sudden disappearance post the turbulent festival incident made me sick with worry. The kind Melshanti took me into his mana, where I helped with small chores. No one knew where Achan had gone. I prayed to Bhagavathi for his safety.
Every Friday, Achan and I used to visit a forgotten kaavu below the banyan tree, its shrine ruined in old wars, yet still sacred. We would offer prayers and garland the worn idol with wild red hibiscus and light a few lamps around the wall.
That Friday, I prayed in secret, hoping he would come.
Bhagavathi heard me.
I heard his voice from behind the idol.
“Moley… Moley.”
Acha! I ran to him and hugged him tightly, teary-eyed.
“My brave Lakshmikutty. I can’t stay here for long, but hear me out,” he said.
Then he told me everything, about the meeting with Shankaran Kutty at Thekke Mana, the missing anklet, the six girls who had already vanished.
His voice broke as he revealed that I was to be the seventh and the final offering. Fear closed in around me like a noose.
“Moley…” he whispered, drawing my hand to his cheek. “Nothing will happen to you. I swear I will stop them. Listen to my plan.”
I listened to every word he said, half believing in myself about executing my role in his designs.
“You’ll need to be strong,” he said.”
“Keep praying, moley. Bhagavathi Amma is listening.”
***
The Seventh Amavasya
Despite trying to stay calm and brave, I was shaking. My mind kept imagining all the ways they might hurt me. My eyes burned from fear.
It was a new moon night.
More than once, I thought of telling the Melshanti about meeting Achan, the missing girls, the murders tied to the new moon, and the terrible certainty that I was next.
I wasn’t sure I had the courage, and even if I did, would he believe me?
I closed my eyes and prayed to Bhagavathi.
Then I heard a voice at the doorway. It was one of the royal guards.
“Melshanti has summoned you for the Amavasya pooja at Thekke Mana. Please bathe and dress…” The rest faded into a blur. I barely felt the cold, hard floor as everything slipped into darkness while I fell.
***
The Homam
Velayuthan set his plans in motion. Disguised as a worker, he slipped into Thekke Mana as a cleaning staff, cleaning restrooms by day and confining himself to the shadows by night.
As dusk fell, the rituals began. From his hidden perch, Velayuthan watched. At first, nothing seemed unusual. The pujaris chanted sacred mantras, their voices rising and falling with the rhythm of the flames as the homam deepened. Then Raman Namboothiri gave a subtle nod.
Velayuthan stiffened. Guards appeared, dragging a barely conscious girl, his Lakshmikutty.
With a cry, he leapt from his hideout, startling everyone. “Please, spare my daughter!”
Namboothiri was taken aback at Velayuthan’s sudden appearance.
He sneered. “You’ve served me well, Velayutha. But now I’ll say you killed those girls to settle a feud and even murdered your daughter to cover it up.”
“You lying devil!” Velayuthan growled, pulling a machete from his mundu.
Lakshmi, now fully awake, screamed, “Acha!”
“Run, moley!” he shouted.
***
The Curse Lifted
Lakshmi ran with the last of her strength out of Thekke Mana.
Following Achan’s plan, she took the old path through the abandoned temple.
As she reached the ruins, she froze. A pair of amber eyes blinked in the dark.
In a flash, a tiger sprang from the underbrush. Its massive jaws clamped around her throat. She screamed, struck out blindly as warm blood spilled down her neck, and crumpled into the grass, her limbs twitching once before falling still.
The guards arrived moments later. The tiger, snarling at the sudden blaze of torches and shouting men, turned and vanished into the thickets.
Namboothiri came panting behind them. Seeing her mangled form, he grinned. The beast had done what he couldn’t.
“His Highness,” he declared with arms raised, “the curse is broken.”
Velayuthan surged forward, flinging a guard aside. Before Namboothiri could even flinch, the machete sliced across his throat, as he collapsed in a choking gurgle.
Falling beside Lakshmi, he wept. “Moley… don’t leave me.”
Thunder cracked. A gust of wind blew across the kaavu. The withered Hibiscus bloomed in glory. Chuttuvilakku lit from terracotta lamps around the dilapidated walls.
Her fingers stirred. Her eyes opened, burning amber.
Velayuthan stepped back. “Amma…”
Lakshmi rose, like the evolution of a self-manifested idol shimmering with divine light and walked into the sanctum sanctorum.
A tiger emerged from the shadows and stood beside her, regal and still, like a guardian summoned by the divine.
From her lips came a resonant voice.
“No more blood shall be spilled in my name.”
The skies opened in a downpour as the chuttuvilakku flickered out and hibiscus petals wilted.
Only the idol remained, radiant in restored glory. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and as rain fell in torrents, the villagers froze, awestruck by the divine presence before them.
And beneath the ancient banyan, the divine emissary evanesced, taking the curse with her like a dream at dawn.
***************
Pic Credits: edmund-lou-rq8xWpZmNBQ-unsplash.jpg
Co-authored Duology with Shilpa Keshav
Glossary: (in the context of the story)
- Amavasya- New Moon
- Velichappad- Oracle
- Amme Bhagavathiye- Addressing Goddess (Durga form)
- chilankas – anklets of oracle (or dancers)
- Mundu- Dhoti
- Melshanti- temple priest
- Amme Mahamayee- Addressing Goddess (revered)
- Vava- little girl
- Thekke- Southern
- Mana- Palatial Brahmin Bungalow
- Vedikettu- Temple fireworks
- Achan – father
- Kaavu- A temple amidst wild foliage
- Moley- Addressing little girl/daughter
- Chuttuvilakku- rows of lit oil lamps along the outer walls of temple
