Reaching Dinesh Mary’s house in the fishing village of Kadar Karayur is easy. One of the first houses in the village, the location is also symbolic of Dinesh Mary’s influence in the village. She is the head of the local co-operative credit society and her aunt, Janaki, is leader of the fisherwomen’s association. The courtyard is sandy. Dinesh Mary spreads a yellow, nylon mattress in the courtyard and invites us to sit on it. In the dim light of the low voltage bulb, a young boy sleeps in a corner of the room furnished only by a cupboard. The cupboard has colourful designs painted on it. She serves us tea in steel tumblers.
“My grandmother was a Christian and grandfather a Hindu. An Australian couple was camping in front of our house when I was born and they named me Dinesh Mary,” she explains. Her son has a heart problem. “I tried everything. Initially, I thought I could get him permanently cured and so I borrowed heavily. But now I take him to the Government hospitals periodically to give him injections,” she explains. The family has taken a loan to buy the boat and has to sell the fish catch to the trader who has lent them money.
She takes us to the beach to see a boat coming in with fresh catch. She will cook the fresh fish and serve us a sumptuous dinner. The night is spent under the sky with the sound of the sea echoing in the background. We wake up the next morning at 3 am to the strains of Ayyappa songs and discover that most of the village is awake at that ungodly hour. Dinesh Mary takes us to another house where the boats and nets are being readied. Walking a little further to the beach, we discover a boat with a plant called polanji in it. “This is the plant where the squid nests. We will put it under the sea and go back in a few days to catch the squid,” explains Mustafa, one of the fishermen.
We wait with the fishermen until the changing colours of the sky tell us that it is time for the boats to venture into the sea. Suddenly, there is a bustle of activity as Mustafa and the others begin to sing a ditty while pushing the boat towards the sea.
The harbour is teeming with activity as fishermen venture out, fisherwomen spread yesterday’s catch to dry in the sun and children and older fisherfolk collect the smaller fish washed ashore by the waves. The anti-polio vaccination drive is happening today and all the women have gathered outside Dinesh Mary’s house. We talk to the headman of the village, Malairaja who explains to us the uncertain nature of the fishing occupation. “It is difficult for them to get loans from banks because fishermen, at most times, don’t even have the title to the land they occupy. It is Government land. Even the loans given by the co-operative credit societies are cornered by the people from the non-fishing communities,” says Malairaja.
Dinesh Mary’s younger son, Satish comes and tells us that Mustafa has returned. We rush to the beach. Mustafa has managed to catch 3 kgs of squid. A single kg will fetch him Rs.100; add to that Rs.150 that he has spent on diesel and Rs. 50 that he must pay to each of the three people working on his boat. It leaves Mustafa with nothing at all for almost 9 hours of labour. Mustafa has borrowed Rs.40000 for boats at an interest rate of 10 %. In return for this, he has to sell his fish to the moneylender.
As we return to Dinesh Mary’s house for the second time, we see bullock carts carrying away the packed fish. The fish is assessed and weighed on huge weighing scales. Dinesh Mary has cooked a scrumptious lunch for us that includes three different kinds of fish.
Dinesh Mary’s entire family comes out to see us off as we leave. Our last sight of Kadar Karayur is the long line of colourful trawlers and country boats parked in the distant ocean.
