She opened the door and once again found her uncle standing there. He had a wicked smile plastered on his face. “There is a reason for my eating chickens” she said. They sat down around the dining table, and she started talking.
“There once lived a cock who was named Maranakothi. You might wonder why a cock was named Maramkothi, which in Malayalam means woodpecker...”
“Will you stop being so dramatic! I know what Maramkothi means. But why was the cock named Maramkothi?”
“You did not let me finish. It’s not Maramkothi, it's Maranakothi, which means deathly pecks. There was a reason for him to be named so. He pecked anyone and everyone in his vicinity. By vicinity I mean anyone who walked near the house that he thought belonged to him. He did not even spare the people who stayed in the house. My father was one such person. Even now his legs have marks left by Maranakothi. Every time Maranakothi saw my father, he chased my father and attempted to scratch and peck him. At most times, my father escaped the wild cock's acts of violence by getting a head start over him.”
“He first scanned the area between the house and the gate for the menacing cock. If he found the area free of Maranakothi, he ran to the gate like P T Usha. At the same time, Maranakothi also scanned the same area, hiding in the side of the house, for a pair of running legs. As soon as he saw one, he raced towards them. My father says if Albert Uderzo had witnessed the scene, he would have illustrated it like a Roman soldier being chased by Asterix. On most occasions, my father escaped but this was more due to luck than skill or speed.”
“One evening, my father and the rest of the family gathered around the dining table to discuss the issue. My uncle started the discussion by slamming his fist on the table and shouting ‘Kill that cock’. My second uncle agreed ‘Give maranam to Maranakothi’. The three brothers repeated the slogan ‘Give maranam to Maranakothi’. Their mother did not agree ‘That poor cock. He is the forefather of many hens here. It's too active. That is all. Let us adjust and not kill that poor creature’. The eldest brother protested while showing his leg ‘What poor cock! Look at this wound. It pecked me at the same spot four times. At the same spot!’ His mother looked at the wound sadly and said ‘Maybe you should wear boots’. He retorted ‘Amma, don't be ridiculous. It's about time Maranakothi got into a biriyani pot’. Before his mother could protest, his father said ‘It’s too old. The meat will be tough and not fit for Biriyani. Let us make gravy’. Thus, Maranakothi was given the grave gravy judgement.”
“The next morning, my grandfather threw a handful of rice outside the door and waited with his three sons. Maranakothi appeared within a few minutes and started feeding on it. The three brothers pounced on Maranakothi but they were only able to catch each other's hands. The cock flew away but returned immediately to peck the three pair of hands. The three brothers disappeared into the house howling in pain. This scene was repeated intermittently for the next two months.”
“One day, my grandfather placed a bundle at the centre of the dining table and said, ‘Let us use this tomorrow’. Next morning, once again my grandfather threw a handful of rice outside the door. My grandmother muttered from behind the newspaper ‘We could have had a feast for the whole neighbourhood with all the rice that cock has eaten’. Maranakothi appeared and walked confidently towards the door. It seemed it had an arrogant smirk on his beak. He clucked ‘Another round of free food. These fools think they can get me in this manner. Today each of them will get two pecks’. He laughed arrogantly ‘Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck’ and started pecking the rice off the ground. Suddenly, he noticed a shadow falling from above. Soon, a net materialized and enveloped him completely.”
“My grandfather shouted, ‘Get him’. The three brothers jumped on the cock and held it down. A bloody battle ensued and two hours later, Maranakothi lay as pieces in a vessel of curry. The brothers with scratches all over their faces and arms looked at it and each other happily. Thirty minutes later, Maranakothi had turned into a pile of bones being chewed by the neighbourhood dogs.”
“Hmm! That sounds like a sad story.”
“Wait a minute! The story does not end there. Two hours later, everyone other than the mother screamed ‘Ayoo’ from different parts of the house. They held their stomachs and writhed in pain. Everyone other than the mother, who refused to touch the dish, ended up with severe stomach issues for the next two days.”
“Ah! Maranakothi’s curse! Should you not keep away from chicken biriyani in that case?”
“No! It’s revenge. I hate those creatures. They are not fowls but only foul. Their destruction is my aim. So, get me a chicken biriyani anytime, every time.”
“But not mutton for goat’s cute, right?”
“Right!”
