At a time when Coronavirus has gone viral, I am reminded of this story narrated by me by my grandfather about another virus from another time. It was Smallpox virus which was epidemic during his childhood days which virtually wiped out entire families in our village and its neighborhood.
During one such time in Spring when my grandfather was a teenager, small pox scourge was widespread in his village and vicinity. It had already taken scores of life in the area. During the epidemics the entire village shut down after dark. As soon as twilight set in, the villagers liberally filled huge earthen pots with PITHA (cakes made from rice and grams), PANAA (a sweetened puree made from yogurt and fruits like Banana and Stone Apples or BEL). Though meant for the consumption of MAA SITHALAA (The Goddess of Pox) and kept outside, the pariah Dogs who had plenty of food used to get fat during this time. Nobody was sure if someone else was eating from those pots, until the following incident.
A middle aged Brahmin from a nearby village was returning after dark to his home. A tall and strong man, also known as a brave man of the area, not afraid of anything or anybody. It wasn't too late into the night, but as the villagers were confined to their home due to the all pervasive fear the milieu was eerie and quite. On the outskirts of the village was an earthen lamp near a big pot filled with the evening offering of Pitha and Pana for Goddess Sithala.
As the man approached the bend near that spot and got closer to it, through the dim light he could see the shadowy figure of a woman. She was sitting, with her back facing him, as her long hair almost touched the ground. The guy who had guts and well known not to be afraid of supernatural things, got curious.
Holding on to his LATHI (Stick) using his strong grip, he asked - "Who are you ? What are you doing here ?" The woman sat unmoved, nonchalantly continuing to eat from the earthen pot. The man now repeated his uttering, "Who are you ? What are you doing here ? This is my last warning. If you don't tell me who are you, I am going to hit you". He lifted his Lathi.
The woman now turned her head and showed him her face. Whatever he saw, the man was dumbstruck. Starting to shiver, he kept running towards village. No sooner he reached the first house, than he started frantically knocking the door, yelling at top of his voice.
A few villagers ventured out holding their DIBI (Earthen light) and Lantern to find the man sweating profusely. He was given some water to relax by the empathetic but anxious villagers. But the guy was scared to death. Stammering, he blabbered on, narrating his experience. Suddenly his body temperature shot up. He collapsed and passed away.
Next morning this story spread to the nearby villages, including ours. But from that day, the Small pox meance which scared the locals to death miraculously vanished. Those who had already contracted the disease quickly recovered. Not a single new case was reported in the area in that season.
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