Natraazhi[1], Chozha Kingdom Border

Circa 1004 CE

[1] Fictitious place

‘It’s our turn today’, was the first thought that came to Paavai’s mind as she woke up to the sounds of dawn. She lay there on the mat for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of her village waking up. In the calm and silent pre-dawn every sound carried over to her, clear as a ringing bell. Her Periyamma[1] had already woken up and gone outside to perform her early morning chores of sprinkling water on the front yard. Drawing the kolam was of course Paavai’s much-relished duty. All those who saw her kolams on the floor of their front yard never failed to comment how she had inherited the skill from her mother who had died when she was born. Paavai was brought up by her Periyamma Meenaal right from the moment she was born. She was in effect, Meenaal’s daughter rather than her mother’s.

Paavai got up, rolled the mat and put it away. She finished her morning ablutions and went to the front yard where the rice powder was ready and waiting for her. She took the coconut shell that held the bright white powder and turned to face the rising sun. She raised her hands above her head holding the coconut shell, closed her eyes and offered her thanks to the sun for the dawn of another beautiful day. She then opened her eyes and looked at the wet floor and inhaled the aroma that rose from it. She wondered if wet earth everywhere smelled this sweet or if it was the earth of the Chozha kingdom and specifically the soil of her beloved Natraazhi that gave off the heavenly petrichor. Paavai took another deep breath, filling her lungs to their capacity and bent down to draw the kolam. Her hands started the dots and as she did she found that that day’s kolam would be an elaborate affair, with many twists and turns that bent upon themselves. When she finished and stood back to look at her handiwork, she saw that she had filled up the whole of the watered front yard with an unusually big design. She smiled, satisfied and proud.

“Paavai, you’ll be late for practice”, came Meenaal’s voice from inside. Paavai looked up with a start and saw that her kolam drawing had taken up more time than usual. If she hustled she would just be able to make it on time, she realized. She hurried inside and saw that her Periyamma had made pittu[2] for breakfast. It smelt wonderful, with shredded coconut, jaggery, cardamom and ghee mixed in but Paavai didn’t have time to relish it. She gulped down a few handfuls and drank the milk that her Periyamma handed over to her. She then hurriedly tied her skirt convenient for practice and pulled up her waist-length thick braid and tied it up with a piece of cloth so it wouldn’t fly around and disturb her during practice. She then went to the staff that was kept beneath the drawing of the lamp on the wall that served as the prayer spot. Paavai folded her hands and offered her prayers and respectfully picked up the staff with both hands. She backed away a few steps and then turned and ran out of the house.

The sun was already well up and the rest of the students had gathered in their usual place when Paavai ran over and joined them. She saw that thankfully her Periyappa[3] Sembuli, the instructor, had not yet arrived. She had not seen him that morning and had assumed that he had already been up earlier than usual and had reached the training ground. So she heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that she had reached before his arrival.

The children of Natraazhi, from seven to thirteen years old, boys and girls, were gathered there. They were only a handful, some of the older boys having already left to join formal military training in Thanjavur or wherever they had been assigned to train. Those who didn’t wish to join the army, joined their fathers or families in the family trade, learning and honing their skills from their fathers or other elders in their families. But every able-bodied person in Natraazhi had to undergo rudimentary defense skills as per the command issued by Crown Prince Rajendran.

Paavai looked around the motley group of kids diligently doing their individual warm up routines and thought back to the day when they first started. How different they all looked from that first day! Not just them but the whole village looked and felt different. They had changed from a scared and defenseless group of people who could do nothing other than cower and hide in fear when attacked, to a bunch of confident villagers who now had not only the courage but also some skills and means to defend themselves, their properties, their cattle and their village from attackers and enemies.

Paavai’s reverie was cut short by the visit of Sembuli, their martial instructor. Everyone stopped their warm-ups and stood in their usual places for the morning instruction and did the martial greeting to their teacher, Sembuli. Sembuli had lost his left leg in battle and now walked around with a wooden leg like attachment that he had asked the local carpenter to make for him and which he attached to his stump with the aid of cloth straps. Though the loss of a leg had made him ineligible to serve in the army, it didn’t stop him from imparting his much-celebrated skills to the next generation.

Sembuli acknowledged them but looked to be a little withdrawn that day.

“There will be no classes for you today”, he announced in a loud voice. As the children looked at each other in puzzlement, he continued, “Today one of our students is graduating and will be going to Thanjavur soon after as per Crown Prince Rajendra’s instruction”.

As he uttered the words all the children turned and looked at Paavai. The announcement by her teacher and Periyappa caught Paavai by surprise. Neither he nor her Periyamma had said a word of this to her in the past few days. But the name of the Crown Prince brought back memories of that day a little over a year ago and reminded her that her future lay, not in Natraazhi but in Thanjavur.

“So today will be the graduation of Paavai”, announced Sembuli. And as if on cue, the whole village came forward from behind the children where they had been patiently waiting for just that word. By now everyone knew how a graduation would be conducted. So they formed a circle, the children forming the inner ring and the adults forming an outer ring, a little farther from the inner ring. Paavai walked to the center, her heart beating so fast that she was sure everyone could see it beating above her dress. She held her staff in front of her and closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, calming her mind. She then opened her eyes and did her first obeisance to her teacher, Sembuli. Then she did her next one to her fellow students and her third and final one to the people who had gathered around. She then faced her instructor, Sembuli and stood waiting for the tests that would follow.

Sembuli looked at Paavai and his heart swelled with pride. The tall and lithe girl, who stood calmly and confidently, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze, alert and aware of her surroundings was his pride and joy, more than his own two sons who had already joined the mighty Chozha army and were serving under valiant generals. Anyone would find it hard to believe that the girl standing in the middle of the circle was just twelve years old, so assured was her demeanor. “She looks like a young Nisumbasoothani Devi”, someone whispered in the crowd. Nisumbasoothani was the goddess of the Chozhas who stood guard at the entrance of Thanjavur, guarding and protecting the city, the country, the kingdom, the people and the rulers of the Chozha Empire. Though she resembled nothing like the fierce looking Nisumbasoothani Devi, the aura that emanated from her made the people feel the resemblance to the Goddess of protection. 

Paavai heard nothing and saw nothing, her senses finely tuned to the surroundings, waiting for the test that she knew would come, sooner rather than later. And when the attack came from behind her, from one among the crowd, she sensed the slight disturbance behind her and turned around in a flash, her staff in hand, ready for the test that would prove to be more strenuous and intense than the graduation tests that other pupils before her had gone through.

[1] Mother’s elder sister

[2] A dish made of steamed rice flour

[3] Periyamma’s husband / Father’s elder brother