After independence, the first election came. Paruthikkattu Thomas was the Congress candidate. The leaders liked Thomas very much. He was a man of good repute. He knew exactly how to do what was needed, when it was needed.

I know. But there are those who struggled even more than him for freedom. Among them is Gauriyar of the Begkal fields. Now, he stands apart from everything. Some whispered that he withdrew because he did not get a place as a candidate and that he would rise in anger. Others believed it was because of his Communist leanings that he kept away. Whatever the reason, Gauriyar became inactive. Many leaders tried to bring him back into the field. It was of no use. With the coming of freedom, Gauriyar felt he had done all that he needed to do. That was his stand.

Still, how could someone who had gone to prison in the “White Man, Quit!” struggle suddenly become so inactive? It remained an unanswered question.

The candidate of the Left was a man named Sadanandan. Sadanandan, who had stood in the front row wielding a sickle in his hand at Punnapra Vayalar. There is a mound at Vayalar now, is there not? That mound was made by gathering together the corpses, piling them up, and covering them. Inside it, there are only fragments of bones. From there, a torch was lit and carried in procession around that electoral constituency. It was a procession of the dark-skinned, a deluge of blood-red flags.

The slogans they shouted awakened the workers. Land belongs to those who till it; do not think of evicting them from the land. These were the new slogans. The election field grew hotter by the day. When looking at the list of voters, both parties felt fear. The speeches of the Left emboldened the workers: Stop the evictions. Raise the wages of the laborers. Vattathara Krikary and Paruthikkattu Kochousepp lost their patience. They tried to intimidate the agricultural workers in their own fields. Some tenants whose names were written in their registers did not have the courage to say to their faces, “We will not vote for the Congress.” Many of them, from their own fields...

They vanished as if by magic. On election day, the landlords dressed them in new clothes and gave them plenty of food, then led them to the polling booths. By eight o’clock, a long queue had formed at the polling station. All of them were ‘open votes’—none could read or write; their eyesight was poor. To the question, “Whom do you want to vote for?” the answer was, “For Thamas.” Their landlords were seated right there. Because of that, many could not voice what was truly in their hearts. Surendran, who sat inside the polling booth as Sadanandan’s agent, had to suppress a feeling of disdain. Pappa came to cast her vote. Surendran’s mind was troubled. He feared that the name “Thamas” might escape her lips. “Who are you going to vote