Not Just a Story of a Black Goat

No matter how much you give to this heart, it will never be enough.

Poonachi or the story of a black goat - written by Perumal Murugan and translated by N.Kalyan Raman describes life;  birth and death, and many events that happens in between - many events, very few over which one has control; and all others beyond ones' control, some even beyond comprehension.  

In a village almost devoid of rainfall, an old couple with a minimal subsistence witness an inexplicable change with the arrival of a very ordinary life - a day old goat kid, that looks like a mini dung ball. 

How this miniscule fragment of life acquires a name, how she escapes the clutches of an eagle, a wild cat, from the jaws of death literally in early months of her life form the initial part of the story.  

Poonachi not only fills the void left by the the old couples' daughter' departure post marriage but slowly evolves into a God-sent miracle. The old couple revere her, villagers flock around to get a glimpse of her. The old woman loves Poonachi much more than her own daughter, the old man has mixed feelings right from the start. 

Poonachi, however, realises with time that the love of the old couple towards her is just as long as the rope that is used to tether her to a peg, only scant and measured. 

Poonachi is not just a story of a goat or her growing up years, but a complete narrative of human beings, their feelings, their behavior in different circumstances, a strong observation of the dark times which we live in, where there is a constant strife between ethically right and wrong, where preserving an essence of humanity is seemingly impossible. 

A short, powerful tale, translated extremely well (I could sense the equivalent Tamil lines running in my head as I read the text) that offers a bird's (rather goat's) eye view of a small world in which man and animals strive to thrive together.