The Shadow Blossoms~ Saaya Malar

Shadows of Kollungkodi

Nestled at the foot of a looming mountain, the village of Kollungkodi is both enchanting and unnerving—a place where time seems to stand still, even as the rest of the world rushes forward. Its winding lanes, lined with ancient banyan trees, are steeped in a history that the villagers never fully speak of. Though the air is sweetened by the scent of jasmine and incense, an undercurrent of unease ripples through the village, as if the earth itself remembers the blood and secrets buried deep in its soil.

Kollungkodi was once a village of beauty and promise, where every doorstep was adorned with intricate Kolam patterns, drawn with reverence as offerings to the gods. The village thrived in the light of these traditions, with festivals filling the streets with laughter and joy. But beneath this veneer of serenity, something darker simmered—something no one dared to speak of openly. Over time, the joy that once enveloped Kollungkodi faded, replaced by an oppressive gloom that thickened with each passing year.

The village is believed to be cursed, though no one knows exactly when or how it began. Some say the curse took root with the mysterious disappearance of the Mangaiyar family, who once served as spiritual guardians of Kollungkodi. Others whisper that it was born from the bloodshed twenty-one years ago, during the last blood moon festival, when Veeran Thevar and Meenaloshini were brutally murdered. Five years later, as the villagers attempted to break the cycle during another blood moon, tragedy struck again. Dharmalingam Thevar, the village patriarch, was found in a comatose state, surrounded by a twisted Kolam, while that same night, a child named Aadhirai vanished without a trace.

Since then, the village has been locked in a cycle of misfortune, haunted by rumors of Veerabhadran, the mountain god they once worshipped as their protector. The villagers speak of him with both reverence and fear, convinced that his wrath has fallen upon them for abandoning their ancient traditions. The blood moon, which rises every twenty-one years, has become a symbol of this curse, a reminder of the village's failure to appease the god who once watched over them.

But is it truly Veerabhadran who haunts Kollungkodi? Or is there something far older, far darker, lurking in the shadows?

The Mangaiyar family, once the keepers of the sacred Saaya Kolam, vanished from the village under mysterious circumstances many years ago. The Saaya Kolam, a shadowy and intricate pattern drawn under the light of the blood moon, was believed to hold immense power. The women of the Mangaiyar family would draw it with hands that seemed guided by forces unseen, their movements almost otherworldly. It was said to be a bridge between the mortal world and something far beyond—a means to commune with forces no mortal should ever dare to invoke.

Yet after their disappearance, the Saaya Kolam became a forbidden art, its secrets buried along with the Mangaiyars. No one dared to draw it again. But on the night of the last blood moon, Dharmalingam Thevar was found lying in a mangled version of the Saaya Kolam, its once-sacred lines twisted and malformed, as if the very ground beneath him had recoiled in pain.

Was it Veerabhadran's fury that struck down the old man? Or had Dharmalingam, in desperation, awakened something far more terrifying—something that has festered in the heart of Kollungkodi ever since?

The villagers don't know what truly happened that night. They speak of Veerabhadran as their protector, but their prayers are now tinged with doubt, their offerings made out of fear rather than faith. Some believe that Veerabhadran never was a protector—that he was always a force of destruction, barely kept in check by the Mangaiyars and their Saaya Kolam. Others claim that the Kolam was not a means of protection, but a ritual of summoning—a doorway to powers no one can comprehend.

Could it be that the real threat to Kollungkodi is not the god they fear, but the Kolam itself, a lingering curse invoked by the greed and rivalry of the village's three powerful families: the Panayars, Naickers, and Rayars? For years, these families have been locked in a silent feud, their desire for control over the village's wealth and spiritual leadership threading through Kollungkodi like a tangled web. Their alliances and betrayals have fractured the very foundation of the village, and some believe that it is this fracture that allowed something far darker to slip through the cracks.

As the next blood moon approaches, the villagers brace themselves for whatever fate awaits them. The once simple act of drawing Kolam patterns has taken on an ominous tone. Every misplaced line, every imperfection, is seen as a potential sign of disaster. The Saaya Kolam, now little more than a forbidden legend, still casts a long shadow over the village. And though its secrets have been lost, there are whispers that the Saaya Kolam may be the key to the village's salvation—or its ultimate destruction.

And what of Veerabhadran? Is he still watching from the mountain, waiting for his people to atone for their sins? Or is the mountain itself the prison of something far worse, something that has been growing stronger since the Mangaiyars disappeared?

No one knows. In Kollungkodi, the line between myth and reality is as delicate as the Kolam patterns themselves. The villagers cling to their beliefs, even as those beliefs begin to unravel, just like the broken lines of the Saaya Kolam. As the next blood moon rises, one question hangs in the air: Will the village face the wrath of Veerabhadran, or is it something far darker that awaits them?