Set in the stately, forest-clad hills of Malnad in the Western Ghats during the late 19th century, Bride in the Hills tells the love stories of young men and women aspiring for a life of freedom, dignity, and fulfilment in marriage within a caste-ridden social order. Kuvempu’s multi-centred text, with its organic weave of varied narrative strands, much like the Mahabharata, is epic in substance and style. The novel, which is rooted in the regional realities of Malnad, is yet another example of the diversity of modern Indian literature.
Kuvempu (1904-94) chronicles the emergence of a vibrant and complex rural society caught between manipulative colonial norms and discriminatory native practices. This epic novel with the sweep of a Tolstoy classic enacts its mission statement, “Here, nobody is important; nobody is unimportant; nothing is insignificant!” with brilliance, energy, and imaginative power. An excerpt from the forthcoming book:
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Padre Jivaratnayya wrestles with doubt: Should he or should he not harness Aigalu’s extraordinary skill in wielding a green twig for divining the origin, scale and depth of water to drill a well near the Mission school? Could he, as a Christian, enlist the aid of a Hindu method, steeped in the vile occult antithetical to the Christian ethos, for building an institution expressly designed to disseminate Christian faith? If he, who has always decried practices such as pursuing clairvoyant knowledge, invoking deities and venerating spirits, were to endorse this unscientific and heathenish superstition, how might his senior bishop, Reverend Lord Lakehill perceive such a stance?
He is intrigued as he observes the unfolding events, fully determined to halt the experiment at the first sign of any involvement of sorcery.
Jivaratnayya, expecting Aigalu to preface his performance with a theatrical invocation of some ‘spirit’, is taken aback when he sees him being his usual, mundane self, and merely asking Chinkra to obtain the forked end of a green twig from a tree. Chinkra is an “untouchable” and Aigalu is asking him, a low caste man, to bring the green twig, a vital implement for this exceptional, divine feat! Amidst the gaze of onlookers, Chinkra strolls nonchalantly to a nearby tree, severs a long, green twig and returns. Surveying the offering, Aigalu jests, ‘What is this? Have you brought an entire bough, fit for a good thrashing? All I need is a small, supple twig that can flex.’ Swiftly, Kanna Pandita himself cleaves another twig, and hands it to Aigalu.
All are curious, nay, eager to watch the spectacle. Ceasing their toil, the labourers break away from their tasks and draw nearer to the unfolding spectacle, turning their gaze upon Aigalu.
With both hands against his chest, Aigalu firmly holds the supple green twig’s two ends, keeping them apart. The twig’s stem, located about four inches from its fork, extends horizontally. Aigalu initiates a measured stride around the designated well-digging site.
Certain that the protruding stem will curve towards the ground the moment its bearer contacts the underground water source, the spectators trail Aigalu, who remains intently focused on the stem’s tip. Playing the detective, Jivaratnayya walks directly behind Aigalu, closely scrutinizing his every move for any signs of trickery.
The green twig does not bend where the padre had planned to dig. Aigalu continues to pace further afield. Before he takes many more steps, the tip of the twig dips marginally, as if paying obeisance to the earth. This draws a loud cheer from the crowds.
Kannada poet, playwright, novelist, and critic Kuvempu. | Photo Credit: By Special Arrangement
The padre cannot quite believe what has occurred. Aigalu has to be manipulating the tip of the twig to curve it in that way, he thinks.
Aigalu proceeds further, but the twig is erect again.
‘That direction is no good. Walk in the direction of the jackfruit tree,’ instructs Kanna Pandita.
Accordingly, Aigalu approaches the tree. Abruptly, the tip of the twig executes a complete arc as though some unseen force is drawing it down with an invisible bowstring, pulling it so hard that it surges towards the earth with force almost enough for it to snap. It is so astounding that the onlookers are under the illusion that some vital, superhuman power is animating that lifeless green twig to spontaneously bend of its own accord. Surely, this is no divine power? The padre wonders if this is the power of His deadly foe, the Satan. He earnestly believed in Christ’s marvellous miracles, but his unquestioning faith in his own religion reinforced the conviction that when the same power manifests itself in non-Christians, it must belong to Satan.
‘Just a minute, let me have a look at the green twig,’ says the padre.
Amused, Aigalu hands over the twig to the padre. Jivaratnayya turns it around gingerly, ‘What if I break a similar twig and give it to you?’
Aigalu, along with a few other people, readily agrees, ‘Sure, go ahead.’
The padre marches to the school’s boundary extended by felling trees, breaks a twig off a tree and gives it to Devayya, who examines it and says, ‘Oh yes, this twig is better! It is so pliant,’ handing it to Aigalu.
Admiring it, Aigalu wields the twig just as he did the previous one. Right away, there is a momentous applause and cheering from the crowd that assaults padre’s ears: What does he see? The green twig he thrust into Aigalu’s hands bends over, dipping lower than the earlier one, testifying mutely to the presence of a rich water source under the jackfruit tree.
On the padre’s instruction, Aigalu retraces his movement on the same path. The second twig, more than the first, behaves exactly in the same way—either clearly bending or standing erect, tracing the same history as the first twig.
To test it, the padre says, ‘Aigale, let me hold the twig this time. Let’s see . . .’
Bride in the Hills releases on September 30, 2024. | Photo Credit: By Special Arrangement
The padre holds the twig in the same way as Aigalu and starts walking, but it does not move, not even a teeny-weeny bit. The crowd guffaws.
Aigalu teases him, ‘Padre, hold it again. I’ll show you something funny.’ Feigning to help him hold the twig properly, Aigalu places his hand on the padre’s arms and says, ‘Alright, walk now.’
As he takes a few steps, the green twig in the padre’s hand starts moving. The padre is baffled. What if he has come under the spell of the devil? Yet, he makes bold and walks further. When he reaches the jackfruit tree, the green twig bends down as it did when Aigalu held it.
So, this twig bends irrespective of the bearer, Jivaratnayya concludes. Anybody can do this. The next moment, he sees that the twig is ramrod straight with no hint of any curvature! Astounded, the padre looks again, and the twig is bending as before!
Looking at his puzzled face, Kanna Pandita says in his Malayalam-laced singsong, ‘Ayyo patri saar, didn’t you realize what was happening? Aigalu was holding your arm, right? The green twig works when Aigalu holds it or even when he touches the one holding the twig!’
Excerpted with permission from Bride in the Hills (Penguin India Modern Classics) by Kuvempu, translated by Vanamala Viswanatha, releasing on September 30.
