An Ode to Odiyan

 Introduction

Kerala has a rich culture and heritage adorned with folklore of devas, devis and Yakshis alike. Whenever we visited my maternal ancestral home in the village in Palakkad, we would be regaled with stories of the infamous Odiyan. This poem is an ode to the legend of the Odiyan which was adapted into a film recently. 

In the erstwhile feudal Kerala, the oppressed farm workers were the underdogs. Odiyan was their way of hitting back at their oppressors. They specialised in black magic which involved concealing a medicinal pouch in one of their body parts that would disappear and give them great magical powers like shape-shifting. This medicinal pouch was believed to have been made from an unborn foetus. The Odiyans would lure pregnant women to their hiding using black magic and extract their foetus by casting a spell on them. The next morning, these women would wake up to find that they had been mysteriously aborted. People were fooled into believing in the supernatural especially due to poor infrastructure, lack of education and other such factors. Even today, the legend of Odiyan is popular in the villages of Kerala. 

An Ode To Odiyan

 

The train chugs to a halt;

As Raman mama waits for us on the neatly laid asphalt.

We begin our Summer vacation;

With mixed feelings of excitement and trepidation.

For, Chandrashekarapuram is a place for creatures, known and unknown;

And it is the latter; that has in mystery grown.

On a sultry Summer night, Raman mama walks home from the ‘medu’, flanked by his nephew and niece;

On a road with a lone street light and an unsettling peace.

As we pass the graveyard, he says, “Come on now, you two, walk fast;

For, you don’t want to see a ghost and be aghast!”

As I try to match my tiny steps with theirs, my brother tugs at mama’s shirt and makes an entreaty.

“Mama, mama, please tell us about ghosts”, 

At which point, my little heart wants to escape back to the city.

Come bedtime and he asks, “ Have I told you about Odiyan? “, 

Our curious eyes give a darting ‘No’ in unison. 

The odiyan is no ordinary predam. 

It shows itself to only those who have made its life a mayhem. 

We give a puzzling look;

Thinking this had better be worth all the spook. 

The odiyan appears in the dead of the night, he narrates;

No smoky apparition or the legendary lady-in white-with-long-hair, this, he elaborates.

Sometimes it takes the shape of rocks;

At others, a cat or an ox. 

“What’s new?”, we look askingly;

He goes on, this time only grudgingly. 

It usually waits for its victim on an oft-trodden on path;

With either an ear missing, or a leg or some other body part. 

When the victim sees it and is taken aback;

It transforms into a human and launches a surprise attack. 

The next day, the village would be abuzz with the news of the death;

And there would be indiscreet chatter about creatures of the night moving in stealth. 

“And that, my children, is the legend of the Odiyan;

So, the next time, you are up to no good, 

I will summon one into our neighbourhood. “

-firefly