As I was
inspecting
the timeworn
stone slab,
he appeared
before me asking
if I
wanted to know more.
Surprised,
I nodded,
to this energetic
antique man
who
seemed older than
the
ancient prayer house.
Every tooth
lost
except
two,
and a mole
on the side
of his
right brow -
a bulging
third eye,
he took
me around,
the
guardian of the building,
in his
navy blue Nike beret cap.
“Take a
pic of the inscriptions,” he directed
“That way
you can study it later.”
Amused by
his insistence,
I took
one.
“It was
built by the Thachans…” he continued,
in a
friendly yet knowledgeable tone
half
muffled by his dialect and
his vacant
mouth,
then explained
how the dimensions
of the
wooden square pillars
resembled
those
in a
temple
echoing
a time of
harmony
with the
Zamorins.
He told
me about
three foot
tall arches,
now
plastered and sealed
where
once,
visitors sat,
reading the
holy book,
praying
hands sliding
over
blessed beads.
“This
mosque was built 700 years ago,”
he said,
“by the Yemeni trader,
on the
land granted by the Zamorin.”
Those
were times when the drum here,
announced
the beginning of the feast
and the
news reverberated
to the
ends of the earth,
word of
mouth,
one
traveller to the next.
“Do take
a wide angle pic,” he instructed,
“and make
sure that you have captured the roof clearly.”
Glancing at
my phone
he approved
and
I chuckled.
Pointing
to the square pond
with dark
green water
and a few
white ducks,
across the road,
he explained
how the earth
from the
locale strengthened
the swamp
ground,
where the
prayer house exists.
Then
spoke of the special doors
ensuring
entry or exit
that
didn’t erase the prayers,
and the
wood and tile roof,
which was
once five tiered.
Made of
palm fronds,
in the
beginning;
it flew
off in a storm,
long long
ago,
and was
rebuilt.
Later it even
survived the fire
set by
the Portuguese
whom
the
Hindus and Muslims
fought in
union.
He urged
me to clear my doubts,
if I had
any,
and I
asked
if I
could see the interior.
To which
he shook his head
side to
side
and said,
“sorry madam,
women are
not allowed inside.
But, you
can definitely
have a peek
by standing
on the
third step!”
“And don’t
forget to take a pic of yours with the building
in the
background!” he added,
flashing
his indelible Kodak smile.
* Koya – a guide at Kuttichira Mishkal Mosque
