“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Vihaan questioned as he was about to take the turn towards their destination.
Dombottu
The board read. Vihaan gulped at the sight of it, slightly amused by its evident age.
“They won’t be pleased.”
“I don’t care, dear brother,” Jyothi answered. “It’s our house, our family.”
“I am not giving them any choice but to accept us,” she said as she rested her head on her husband Daniel’s shoulder.
“Very well,” Vihaan murmured as he took the turn towards his ancestral land.
As the car drove deeper into the country, the road got narrower and the woods around them denser. Patches of rubber trees appeared at irregular intervals, all with thin plastic coverings protecting their shaved bark.
“You all grew up here?” Daniel pulled his window glass down. “It’s a beautiful place!”
“Well, only at first glance,” Vihaan blurted. “Not so pretty to live a life here.”
“It’s been fifteen years, Vihu,” Jyothi kicked his seat. “Surely things have changed.”
“By the looks of it,” the car jerked as it drove through the rocky road, “no, it hasn’t.”
“But,” Vihaan continued as he saw the disappointment in his sister’s eyes, “you can fix things here now. You own it.”
“If it were that easy,” Jyothi sighed.
“I still cannot believe that you own this entire village,” Daniel said. “Even if your family were feudal lords, by now this should have been owned by its tenants.”
“That’s the neat part,” Vihaan continued. “After the Land Reforms Act, Dombottu was supposed to be distributed among its tenants—that is, ‘land should belong to the one who tills it.’”
“Our grandma agreed,” Vihaan let out a deep breath, “but entire Dombottu disagreed.”
“Tenants are free to do whatever they want, though,” Jyothi interjected. “It is our family’s only by name and law.”
“But they do pay the rent,” Vihaan remarked. “More like a custom, but the villagers do pay the rent. It’s a hefty sum.”
“And why is that?” Daniel inquired.
Vihaan stared at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of his sister shooting a gaze at him.
“Superstition, Danny,” he answered. “One who may not be ruled by might, may very well be ruled by fright.”
Before Vihaan could say anything more, the wheel stuck itself in a damp mud-hole and kept spinning.
“Damn it,” Vihaan cursed.
“I will give it a push.” Daniel opened the car door and got out, but not before kissing his pregnant wife on her cheek. “You stay here, baby.”
It was drizzling, and within a few minutes, Daniel was covered in brown wet mud, and the car hadn’t moved an inch.
But then, as Jyothi was going to ring her cousin for help, a couple of guys riding a bike stopped.
“Nikul Dombottu Guttudhaku athe?” one of them questioned in Tulu.
(“You are from Dombottu House, right?”)
“Andh,” Vihaan affirmed.
Without skipping a beat, they got down from the bike and started helping Daniel move the car out. They even joked with him a couple of times in Tulu, but it went over his head.
Once they were out of the ditch, Vihaan came out and thanked them. He pulled out his wallet to pay the villagers.
“Bordchi, bordchi,” they declined his money.
“We are always up for service to the Dombottu house,” one of them affirmed in Tulu. He had a warm smile on his face that put Vihaan at ease.
But then he peeked inside the car, noticing Jyothi.
The smile disappeared.
Vihaan wasn’t sure, but he felt he noticed a resenting gaze coming from the stranger’s eyes.
The stranger muttered something into his peer’s ear. Vihaan couldn’t hear it completely, but it was something about Jyothi inheriting Dombottu.
“Are you coming from Bangalore?” he questioned.
“Yes,” Vihaan answered.
They nodded. Just that—a single nod—before going back to their bike and driving away.
“This is a bad idea,” Vihaan muttered as he drove away.
“They are here,” Vihaan heard a kid shout as they entered their ancestral house.
His first cousin’s son—Vihaan had seen him when he was a baby. He ran toward the car when Vihaan was parking it near the barn.
Once done parking, Vihaan got out and lifted the kid up in his arms, and offered him a chocolate.
“What’s your name, baba?”
“Rahul,” the kid answered.
“Ahh, you are finally here,” he heard a high-pitched yet commanding feminine voice greet them.
It was Malathi, another of their gazillion first cousins. She was pregnant too, just like Jyothi. Probably more so.
She swiftly sprang in and bear-hugged Jyothi.
“It’s been so long,” she said, still holding the hug. “How have you been?”
“I am great,” Jyothi replied, responding with an equal amount of warmth.
“This is my husband, Daniel,” Jyothi introduced him to her cousin.
“Hi, Jiju…” Malathi greeted him with a smile.
She carried a genuine warmth in her smile; Vihaan had fixed his eyes on her face to notice any cracks, yet there weren’t any. That put him at ease.
“Vihu, how are you doing?” Malathi focused her attention on him. “You look good. Found us a bhabhi yet?”
Her open question startled Vihaan, likely hitting him in a place he did not wish to go.
“No, Akka,” he replied while maintaining a smile.
He had a lot of cousins, but very few of them were girls, and along with Jyothi, Malathi was an elder one. He felt a familiar and less distant bond with her.
“Well, our brother needs to give himself time first for that, doesn’t he?” Jyothi chimed in, gently holding him by the elbow. “Probably you can find him a nice, beautiful girl from Dombottu.”
“I don’t think he would like them,” it was Malathi’s father, Shekar. “You city guys have different tastes and values.”
“Chikappa!!” Jyothi went in for a hug.
And then, one by one, the rest of the family appeared to greet them. Most were visitors themselves, and yet they were offering their utmost hospitality, although Vihaan had a feeling that their comfort towards Daniel needed some getting used to.
After almost an hour of greetings, they were all in the house’s large hall, the three guests sitting in chairs along with Shekar, and the rest seating themselves on the floor.
Vihaan noticed an empty chair; before he could question it, he got his answer.
“Konegla battar nikul,” a hoarse voice came from the door.
(“You guys are finally here.”)
Being over six feet and a few inches tall, and with an equally wide frame, he was a large man. It was their eldest maternal uncle, Keshav.
He entered the room wearing an orange lungi and nothing more than a t-shirt, folded and resting over his right shoulder. Flaunting a large belly and an equally thick, grey moustache, he sat on the plastic chair set up for him.
“Maama,” Jyothi endearingly called out as she rose from her chair. She held Daniel’s hand and went toward her uncle while shooting side-gazes at Vihaan to rise from his chair.
Jyothi and Daniel bent to touch his feet, but Keshav rose from his chair and gently placed his hand over her shoulder.
“Itte Bordhci, nik edde ath.”
(“Now, now, this is not good for you.”)
He placed his hand over her head and blessed her:
“Edde avad, suhkavadh uppula.”
(“May good fortunes befall you, and may you be happy.”)
He turned towards Daniel and patted his shoulder hard enough to get him shaking.
“Bakka javane, encha ulla?”
(“So young man, how are you?”)
Daniel, confused, just replied with a smile. Jyothi sighed.
“Tulu barpuja? Kalpod.”
(“Don’t know Tulu? You should learn.”)
Vihaan’s interaction with his uncle was warm yet interrogative about his career progression.
Keshav was the constant caretaker of Dombottu. Although Vihaan had a growing respect for his eldest uncle, he still suffered from the fearful image Keshav had imprinted on his mind when he was a kid.
“Did you guys meet Amma yet?” Keshav continued in Tulu.
“No, not yet,” Jyothi answered with a cheeky smile. “We wanted to meet you first, Uncle.”
Keshav let out a short chuckle.
“That’s good,” he returned to his assertiveness. “We shall visit Kesaanna’s shrine first then.”
“Now? We just came,” Jyothi intervened. “I think we should see Grandma first.”
“No,” Keshav proclaimed. “Amma will wait. We will visit Kesaanna’s shrine first and get his blessings.”
“You will need it, Jyothi; you have come here after fifteen years. Let his grace be on you before you rule this place.”
“It is not that fancy, Uncle. I am not a queen,” Jyothi quipped.
“Do not jest about the responsibility you have,” Keshav remarked. “Let’s hurry now.”
“Very well,” Jyothi agreed.
She held Daniel’s hand and started walking out with him.
Keshav stared at Jyothi and ordered in Tulu:
“No, not him. Leave him here.”
“Why not? He is my husband,” Jyothi rebuffed.
“Yes, Maama. Let him,” Malathi intervened too.
“No,” Keshav continued. “He can stay here. He will be fed and he can rest well. But he won’t be entering Kesanna’s shrine. He does not belong.”
“This is not right,” Vihaan spoke up.
Daniel tried stopping him. “It’s okay,” he said.
Vihaan did not listen.
“You can’t still believe in something that’s so archaic. Those are just superstitions; we should allow him. He is Jyothi’s husband.”
Keshav gave a piercing look at Vihaan that terrified him. Jyothi and Malathi looked at each other with a hint of panic in their faces.
Malathi walked toward Keshav to comfort him, but it was too late.
“Do not speak when elders are talking,” Keshav said in Tulu. “You all are young and have no idea what Dombottu and its responsibilities are.”
“This responsibility has been entrusted to us by its people so that we can serve Dombottu Kesaanna. Only our family can, and no one else.”
He then glanced at Daniel and Jyothi.
“Sometimes when people are young, they make some mistakes,” he continued. “That is why we are here, to guide you. I am here to make sure that Kesaanna is served and he is served well.”
He then turned towards Daniel and spoke in rather fluent English:
“Please take some rest and have some food. We have prepared some good snacks.”
Daniel looked at him in awe and replied, “Very well, thank you.”
Keshav took Jyothi to the shrine; Malathi and Shekar joined them. Vihaan refused to go or stay at the house. He just took his car and went out for a stroll. No one stopped him.
Vihaan lost his way to the local market as he drove away from the Dombottu house. He was sure that he remembered the way, but it had been fifteen years, and his memory wasn’t as reliable as he had assumed.
He tried tinkering with the maps, but he barely had any reception, and he knew that even if by some miracle the internet graced him, Google would likely not bother to cover the interior roads of Dombottu.
Out of desperation, he decided to call his sister to have her narrate the way. He got out of his car, hoping to squeeze out a bit more reception. It was raining—not heavily, but a little more than a drizzle.
As he was trying in vain to make a call, his eye fell on a blurry figure approaching him. As the figure drew closer, the image became clearer.
It was a woman of short stature, wearing a plain but beautiful saree. Her face was mostly covered by an umbrella as she walked toward him.
“Vihaan,” she said, her voice bright with familiarity.
Vihaan was surprised, still trying to put a face to the voice.
“Why are you getting drenched? Get under the umbrella.”
She raised her umbrella to invite him in, revealing the rest of her face. He blinked a few times to make sure she was who he thought she was.
“Maya!” he exclaimed. “Is that you, or am I tripping?”
“It is me,” she smiled and jokingly offered him a bow.
“So nice to see you, yaar,” he said as he entered the shade of her umbrella.
The rain softened to a dull murmur under the umbrella, as if the world had stepped back for them.
“Same here,” she replied. “So… what were you doing dancing in the rain?”
“I was just trying to find some reception,” he hesitated a bit. “It seems like I lost my way.”
“Oh,” she chuckled. “Come, I will help you with the way. You can drop me at the market.”
“Oh no, I do not want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble, Vihaan,” she assured him. “I was going there either way.”
Vihaan and Maya boarded the car, and Maya helped him navigate out of his lost state. Once Vihaan was back on a familiar road, he turned his attention toward Maya.
“So, what do you do now?”
“I am a teacher at a local school,” she answered. “It is just outside Dombottu.”
“Oh, is it?” Vihaan looked at her with delight. “I always thought that you would be a great teacher. I bet the students love you.”
“Well, I try my best. Sometimes it is a pain,” she rolled her eyes, before settling her gaze back on Vihaan. “But why so? Why do you think I would be a good teacher?”
“Always kind, a good listener, patient. Even as a kid, and even when I was a morbid brat,” Vihaan answered. “The recipe for a good teacher.”
Maya let out a chuckle—more than one.
“Well, then I guess my career was destined,” she replied. “You sure gave me a hell of a lot of practice.”
Vihaan smiled.
“Come now, I will drop you off at your school,” he said. “It’s the least I could do after you got me out of that embarrassing peril.”
“No, no. There’s no need,” Maya said. “I do not want to bother you.”
“Not a bother, yaar,” he replied. “It would be pleasant to get out of Dombottu for a while. And in a way, we get more time to catch up.”
Maya smirked. “Sure, but do not get lost again after I leave you.”
Both laughed.
“So what brings you back?” Maya inquired. “Finally decided to meet the Baby-amma?”
“Yes, one last time before the old lady kicks the bucket,” Vihaan let out a small chuckle. “Or else the old lady wouldn’t hesitate to haunt me for life, trying endlessly to get me fat.”
Maya chuckled. There was a momentary pause as both looked ahead at the road.
“You know, it came as a shock when I heard she was sick,” Maya remarked. “I always thought that the old lady would outlive us all.”
“Or at least mark a century.”
“Well, she has lived a long life either way,” Vihaan said. “Ninety-eight is a good number. She has outlived four of her kids.”
“But if you ask her, I am pretty sure she would claim that she is still very young,” Vihaan continued. “She would probably claim another couple of centuries.”
“God, your grandma was a character. I still remember even the most arrogant ones cowering in fear whenever she spoke,” Maya reminisced. “The Queen of Dombottu, indeed.”
“Indeed,” Vihaan affirmed.
As the car passed through Dombottu’s rather busy market, Vihaan slowed down to accommodate randomly appearing pedestrians. As he was avoiding a potential accident, he noticed a man wearing muddy clothes waving at his car.
Vihaan was confused, so he turned his gaze toward Maya, who seemed to recognize the man.
“You know him?” Vihaan questioned. “He seems to be waving at you.”
“Well, I think he is waving at you,” Maya corrected him. “He is sort of your brother-in-law. He is Malathi’s husband, Harish.”
“Oh,” Vihaan said, awkwardly waving at Harish. “I never met him, you know.”
“I didn’t go to Malathi’s wedding either,” Vihaan added. “Too much work at the restaurant.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Maya affirmed. “You could have still visited, you know. She’s like your sister. And Harish is well-loved around the entire Dombottu.”
“Is he?” Vihaan was surprised.
“Yes,” she answered. “He got his Master’s in Agricultural Sciences from the Netherlands and came back to Dombottu to help the village.”
“He is the reason behind the excellent yield of areca nut, rubber, and paddy for the last couple of years,” she continued. “The man is a genius.”
“Oh, I did not know that,” Vihaan replied.
“Didn’t you? He was sponsored by Baby-amma,” she said. “Not too much into family affairs, I see.”
“Definitely not,” Vihaan replied. “In an ideal world, I would have kept it that way.”
“That’s not right, they—” Maya noticed the thoughts brewing in Vihaan’s eyes. “Okay, never mind.”
There was a brief moment of silence. Vihaan noticed the conversational barrier he had created and tried to break it, but he did not understand how until he just settled down to humming a melody that made sense only in his head.
Maya chuckled under her breath. Noticing Vihaan’s subtle efforts, she turned toward him.
“So, how is Jyothi doing? I heard she is carrying,” Maya broke the silence. “I want to meet her; gosh, it’s been so long.”
“She is doing great,” Vihaan answered with a smile. “Daniel keeps her very happy.”
“That’s excellent, I am so happy for her.” Maya’s eyes gleamed. “She deserves it. She was always such a happy and kind soul.”
“That she is,” Vihaan agreed. “Sometimes a bit scary, too.”
“Well, she is going to need it,” Maya said. “After all, she is going to own Dombottu. She will need all the fierceness to bend it to her will.”
“Yes,” Vihaan sighed. “I am worried for her, you know. People of this village, or even most of our family, don’t seem to like us. Especially Jyothi.”
“I know there could also be a bias against her because she married Daniel,” he continued. “But there seems to be a sense of resentment going around that I can’t put my finger on.”
“Baby-amma rarely, if ever, stepped out of Dombottu,” Maya remarked. “People here considered her a part of Dombottu through and through. But Jyothi and your family—”
“—Are outsiders,” Vihaan finished her sentence.
“I was going to say estranged, sort of,” Maya corrected him.
“When Baby-amma got sick, most of the village elders visited her and Uncle Keshav,” Maya continued. “They wanted Malathi and Harish to take control of Dombottu, but your family disagreed. Beyond that, they also insulted everyone who suggested the idea.”
“Why is that? Jyothi has no ambition of owning Dombottu,” Vihaan interjected. “She would much rather live comfortably in Bangalore with her family than be here.”
“And what makes you think that matters?” Maya said. “It’s Dombottu; it cares very little about what we want.”
“She is the eldest daughter, Vihaan,” Maya remarked. “She shall inherit everything—the glory and the sins. Let’s hope she holds on to the glory.”
“Yeah,” Vihaan affirmed. “Never mind, let’s see what happens.”
“How is your grandma, by the way?” Vihaan changed the topic.
“She is doing great; her knees hurt a little more now, but she is good,” Maya replied. “She misses you guys. She is always inquiring how you and Jyothi are doing whenever someone from your family visits.”
“I think of her, too,” Vihaan said. “She was very nice. Your entire family was.”
“You should come and visit her, you know. She will be—” Maya then raised her hand. “Okay, just over there. That’s the school.”
“Oh,” Vihaan parked the car just outside the school gate.
“Thanks a lot, Vihaan,” Maya said as she got out of the car. “Do not try to get lost without me.”
“I will try not to,” Vihaan replied.
Maya chuckled.
“Bye,” she waved her hand as she walked toward the school gate.
Vihaan saw her go, but then he suddenly opened his car door and sprung out.
“Maya!” he called out to her.
She turned toward him and raised her eyebrows, questioning his intention.
“What time does your school end today?” Vihaan asked with a hint of a reluctant pause in his voice. “Shall I pick you up and drop you at your house this evening?”
“I could… see your grandma, too,” he added. “I’d like that.”
“You sure?” she confirmed. “Don’t you have familial duties to perform?”
“No,” he dragged the word. “I’d rather be anywhere but the house.”
She smiled.
“Hmm… okay,” she agreed. “If it’s no trouble to you. I would love that.”
Lore
[!family] Dombottu Family Tree
- Baby (Matriarch)
- Keshav (eldest son; ritual authority, caretaker)
- Vanaja (eldest daughter; lineage bearer)
- Jyothi (eldest daughter → heir of Dombottu) ── Daniel (husband; Christian)
- Vihaan
- Girija (younger daughter) ── Shekar (husband; son-in-law)
- Malathi ── Harish (husband)
- 9 Other siblings → ~28 cousins