Short fiction by Paul Zacharia: A zealous nephew vows to catch his aunt’s secret lover red-handed
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It’s gala time for paramours in our Kallungal Tharavad. It’s as though these adulterers literally plough, sow, and reap in the ancient seat of our family, the Kallungal House. But, can you believe it, my uncle, long-limbed and powerful, merely sits in his easy chair on the veranda making small talk with these scoundrels! Does he not realise who they really are?
I have asked him several times when we’ve met at the church or the bazaar, “Uncle, are you satisfied with the way things are in our tharavad?”
Uncle always nods his head and looks at the birds flying in the sky, or stands staring at the line of fortune in his right palm. I have often thought that if he so much as brought down that giant arm once, it would crush ten of those rascals. But then, Uncle must raise his hand first.
I found one of those rogues right inside the tharavad one day when I was prowling around the place at noon. Uncle was away. I climbed the steps into the courtyard from the road and then silently onto the veranda and saw the Romeo being fed lunch inside. It was that handsome carpenter, that good-for-nothing wood hacker.
I heard...