In the heart of the Alummoottil estate, amidst the sprawling Nalukettu and whispering backwaters, stands an ancient Pala tree—its branches twisting skyward as if reaching for forgotten dreams. Beneath its shadowy canopy, the legend of Raktha Yakshi lingers, a tale of forbidden love, heartbreak, and vengeful retribution.
A Love Blossoms in Secret
Saraswathy Channatty, a vibrant and curious girl of sixteen, was the pride of the Alummoottil family. Her laughter echoed through the Nalukettu, and her eyes sparkled with a mischief that endeared her to all. But beneath her playful exterior lay a tender heart, one that had found solace in an unlikely place.
Keshavan Pisharody, a temple worker at the Pallippattu Thalikkal Shiva Temple, captured Saraswathy’s attention with his melodic chanting and quiet grace. His bass was deep and his melodies rythmed perfectly with the Edakka (a percussion instrument) he played.
As time passed, Saraswathy would visit the Temple just to meet Keshavan. Their love blossomed in secret, nurtured in stolen glances and whispered conversations by the temple pond.
“Do you think they’ll ever let us be together?” Saraswathy asked one evening as they stood under the Pala tree, its roots firmly grounded in Alummoottil soil.
Keshavan hesitated, his hands tightening around the sacred thread draped over his shoulder. “If love is pure, Saraswathy, it will find a way,” he said softly, though doubt clouded his eyes.
But fate had other plans. Word of their affair reached the Alummoottil chieftain, Kuthakkakkaran Sekharan Channar, a man known for his unyielding adherence to tradition.
The Chieftain’s Wrath
In the grand Meda of the Nalukettu, Saraswathy was summoned before the chieftain. The room was heavy with silence, broken only by the rustling of the chieftain’s robes as he paced.
“You dare disgrace our family, Saraswathy?” Sekharan Channar thundered, his voice echoing off the wooden beams. “An Ambalavasi? A temple worker? Have you no shame?”
Saraswathy knelt, tears streaming down her face. “I love him, Achhan. He is kind, noble, and—”
“Silence!” he roared, slamming his palm against the table. “You will not tarnish our name with such foolishness. You will remain confined until you come to your senses.”
Saraswathy was dragged away, her pleas falling on deaf ears. For weeks, she was locked in a dark storeroom, her only company the distant hum of temple bells. As hope faded, despair consumed her.
The Birth of Raktha Yakshi
One fateful night, Saraswathy tied her mundu to the rafters and ended her life. Her anguished soul, burdened by love and betrayal, did not ascend to peace. Instead, it latched onto the Pala tree, transforming into Raktha Yakshi, a demoness of otherworldly beauty and vengeance.
The Haunting and the Exorcism
For years, Raktha Yakshi haunted the Alummoottil estate. Men who ventured near the Pala tree after dusk spoke of a woman in a blood-red saree, her anklets jingling softly. Some fell victim to her seductive allure, found lifeless by morning, their faces pale and frozen in an eerie smile.
The family, wracked with guilt and fear, decided to act. A council of Brahmin priests from seven manas was summoned to Alummoottil. For days, the priests performed elaborate pujas to appease the spirit and extract it from the Meda. The rituals, steeped in ancient mantras and offerings, culminated in a powerful ceremony beneath the Pala tree.
When the final chants faded, the priests announced that the Yakshi’s spirit had been pacified. They consecrated Saraswathy’s spirit as a deity and installed her idol in the Thekkedath family temple, where she resides even today. Known as a guardian spirit, Saraswathy is worshipped with offerings to honor her tragic tale and ensure her blessings.
A Legacy of Love and Redemption
The Pala tree still stands, its roots entwined with the soil of Alummoottil, a silent witness to the love and betrayal that gave rise to Raktha Yakshi. The Thekkedath temple continues to draw devotees, who light lamps and offer prayers to Saraswathy, not as a vengeful ghost, but as a benevolent protector.
Her story remains etched in the annals of the Alummoottil family, a poignant reminder of the enduring power of love, the pain of rejection, and the redemption found through faith and tradition.
