‘Love – isn’t that what we all live for?’ said the Hindu priest who’d be conducting the service that day. Madhav had been the pundit at the temple in Melbourne I’d visited many years ago. ‘In our search for God what we truly seek is a source of unconditional love. Yet the best source of unconditional love is ourselves.’
Everyone seemed to have an Australian connection, and a connection to each other. It’d been a surprising evening all around. Lucky and I had expected to make a great many introductions, only to find out that everybody already knew everyone else somehow.
Madhav was now a guru at the ashram Lucky’s biological mother and sister lived in as well. He even knew Mahinda!
‘Why I never!’ the holy man kept repeating. ‘Nila used to come to the Hindu temple in Boronia many years ago! And I must tell you, your mother saved me!’
‘How so?’ my mother had asked with a laugh. ‘I was quite mad, you know. Madhav gave Renuka and I the money to return to Sri Lanka so I could get treatment. It was he who saved me!’
‘Quite the contrary, my gracious lady. It was you who saved me. You made me face my inhumanity. You challenged my arrogance. Your humanity made me a better man!’ the pundit said, kneeling and touching my mother’s feet with his forehead. ‘Forgive me, mother,’ he’d begged. ‘I feel it is more than a coincidence that I would end up leading the ashram where your mother is a chief disciple, Lucky. The great goddess Saraswati is at work here.’
Lucky’s mother had smiled. She had flown over from India along with Madhav and Lucky’s sister, Radha, for the wedding.
‘I believe it be Ma Savatri work,’ Pilar had added in a soft voice. She was very shy and hardly spoke to me, but she’d brought me a beautifully woven cotton saree as a wedding present. ‘I not rich woman. I gives you what I can. Makes my Laksman happy man. I is so happy he marry educated woman.’
Radha was an accomplished young woman herself. ‘I will be singing with Sarojini as you walk down the aisle. My gift from the goddess is my voice.’
Out of the corner of one eye I saw Vannan and his brood arrive. The ex-LTTE cadre leant heavily on his crutches as his children looked uncertainly around. My mother came forward and warmly welcomed them, pointing the children in the direction of other children present and Vannan in the direction of the karaoke machine my cousin Ryan was setting up.
Ryan and I are closer now that we aren’t brother and sister. The truth about our relationship finally set us free to enjoy each other’s company, as cousins should. Spending time with Ryan, I realised how destructive Anoja’s relationship with him had been.
‘Do you think any of us survived unscathed?’ Ryan had asked me one afternoon. ‘I couldn’t protect you from her! I was powerless! And I was supposed to have been your twin brother, your protector. What kind of person did that make me?’
But Ryan seemed happier now. He too was spending a great deal of time with my parents, realising that a lifetime of hatred could be erased by a faithful heart.
Indeed, looking out over the lawn, I could not believe that there had been a civil war in Sri Lanka at all. Sinhala, Tamil, Burgher and Muslim people were mingling happily in the throng, waiting for the blessed occasion to start. I understood, then, how small the differences are between us. All people just want to get on with their lives and care for their children. Nothing more, nothing less.
I heard a sharp rap at the door. Fatima Khan had finally arrived. ‘Come in!’ I cried happily, but to my surprise it was not Fatima but an unknown lady with an alabaster complexion who came in. ‘I’m sorry, I thought you were my aunty Fatima!’ I exclaimed, feeling naked in my skin-tight midriff-baring saree blouse.
‘I know Fatima well. But she has gone to speak with your mother,’ the lady replied as she laid the large box containing the saree on my bed.
I did not need an invitation to pounce. Taking off the cover, I looked reverently at the beautiful golden white saree that lay in the nest of white tissue paper.
‘Just like I remembered it,’ I whispered softly.
‘Come on, let’s drape it on you!’ the lady said.
‘Oh, my mother wanted to do that. I’d better send her a message.’
‘Your mother is otherwise occupied,’ the lady said. ‘I believe your Aunt Gauri has just arrived, and it is many years since they have seen one another. Besides, we need to hurry. The ceremony starts in twenty minutes!’
did not argue as the lady took the saree out of the box and expertly draped it on me.
‘Marriage is not an easy undertaking, my child. Gautama Siddharta likened it to living together with a drunk elephant. But with a kind heart and open mind, victory will be yours, child,’ the lady assured me.
‘Who is Gautama Siddharta?’
‘The man who became the Buddha, you gorgeous girl!’ the lady smiled. ‘Wisdom, patience, compassion and kindness. Keep those close to your heart and you will not fail.’
‘Have you been married?’ I asked the lady. She was of an indiscernible age. Strikingly beautiful. Radiant. Dressed in a white saree rich with embellishments but subdued all the same.
‘I am married to what I do,’ the lady replied with a smile. ‘Which is just as important. Now look,’ she instructed, turning me to face the mirror. ‘Don’t you think you look like a goddess?’
I was speechless. I was covered in white but glowed with colour. Something about the border of the saree made me think of my long walks along the river with Lucky. There was something in the wave and form of it and the exquisite jewels that swished around my feet that spoke of flowing waters.
The lady pinned the pallu of the saree to my shoulder. As I turned, I saw the elaborate peacock sewn entirely of sapphires and with bright red rubies for eyes. The lady arranged it on my arm like a cascading waterfall.
‘Go quickly, my darling!’ The lady hurried me as the clock in the main house chimed five o’clock.
‘Aren’t you coming with me?’ I asked.
‘I am never apart from you,’ the lady called as I heard my mother come in search of me.
‘Marion, I completely lost track of time!’ my mother cried, coming down the corridor. ‘Lucky is waiting for us.’
‘I am already dressed,’ I called back, hurrying out of the room, grabbing my posy of lotus flowers from my dresser on the way.
‘Oh my,’ was all my mother could say when she saw me, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself from crying.
We could not stop because the Reverend Madhav had started the chanting for the wedding. As we walked down the aisle to where my father and Lucky were standing, whispers rose around me. My mother’s friend Renuka looked as if she’d seen a ghost.
‘Where did she get that saree? Is it possible?’
‘It is only possible because miracles do happen,’ Raju Nair said in a firm voice that carried over the noise of the chattering crowds. ‘My precious child,’ he whispered in my ear as he handed me over to Lucky, who was already seated in front of the sacred fire.
Even the Reverend started dramatically when he saw me wearing the saree.
‘How did you get that saree? And who draped it on you?’ he demanded.
‘The saree belongs to Fatima Khan,’ I explained in a faltering voice, pointing to Fatima sitting in the front row. ‘And a strange lady came and draped it on me.’
I looked past the holy man to see the statue of the goddess Saraswati behind him, carved six hundred years previously into solid white granite. The goddess was identical to the lady who’d just been with me. Identical in features. Identical in grace and form. Identical in radiance.
Madhav gave me a steady look. ‘I am not sure who that saree really belongs to anymore, but I do know that it is draped on you in what we call the devi style. A style only used by the gods.’
‘Perhaps Marion has just met with the gods,’ Lucky said, beaming at me, as a divine peace spread like a pool of liquid joy through the amphitheatre and beyond. ‘Marry us, holy man, because I want one of my seven lifetime
s to start now!’
Glossary
Abishekham (Hindi/Tamil) Libation of the deities in milk and rose water
Achaa (Hindi/Tamil) Expression of surprise or delight
Achiamma (Tamil) Grandmother
Aibuwan (Sinhala) No exact English equivalent – a greeting of welcome or good day.
Aiya (Sinhala) Older brother
Akka (Sinhala) Older sister
Alarippu (Tamil) ‘Flowering bud’. Traditionally the first dance piece that Bharatanatyam dancers learn and perform in this type of classical dance recital. It is an invocation piece, symbolising the offering of respects to both God and the audience.
Amma/Ammi (Sinhala) Mother
Ammachi (Tamil) Mother
Ana (Tamil) Older brother
Anay (Sinhala) There is no direct English equivalent, but is almost like saying ‘pretty’ in ‘pretty please’.
Anay ba aiyo (Sinhala) ‘No I cannot’
Anujate (Kanarese) Sister
Appa (Tamil) Father
Arari (Kanarese) Boyfriend
Arrack (Sinhala) Sri Lankan whisky made from the fermented sap of coconut flowers, sugarcane and grains.
Ashwagandha (Hindi) Indian ginseng
Baana (Hindi) Weft threads
Bahasa (Hindi) Language
Bala (Sinhalese/Hindi) Sida cordifolia – used extensively in herbal medicines.
Balli (Sinhala) Bitch
Banderi (Telegu) Female monkey
Bao (Chinese) Boon
Basunnaha (Sinhala) Tradesmen
Beedee (Sinhala) A noxious Sri Lankan cigar.
Beta (Hindi) Child
Brahmins (Hindi/Tamil) Caste of people who are traditionally the custodians of the temples and are priests.
Bung (Sinhala) Mate
Burfi (Hindi) A sweet confectionery from the Indian subcontinent. Plain burfi is made with condensed milk and sugar and cooked until it solidifies.
Burgher (English/Sinhala) Eurasian descendants of Portuguese, Dutch and English colonists who have intermarried with Sinhala and Tamil people.
Chai (Hindi) Tea
Chakra (Hindi) Traditional Indian spinning wheel.
Cheek (Sinhala/Tamil) An expression of disgust.
Chettie (Sinhala) Merchant
Dalits (Hindi) People of the untouchable caste.
Deepavali/Deevali (Sinhala/Tamil/Hindi) Hindu festival of lights celebrating the victory of good over evil.
Demala (Sinhala) Derogatory reference to a Tamil person.
Devadasi (Tamil/Hindi) Handmaidens of the gods.
Devarige biduvadu (Kanarese) A ceremony dedicating a young girl to the life of a devadasi.
Deyo Buddhu sale (Sinhala) ‘Oh my dear Buddha’
Deyo Buddhuhamduruwanay (Sinhala) ‘For the love of the Buddha’
Dhoti (Hindi) Sarong-like garment worn around the waist for men.
Dosai (Tamil) Pancakes made from crushed pulses and rice.
Duwa (Sinhala) Daughter
Faluda (Sinhala) Sickly pink drink made of rose essence, jelly, casa casa seeds and milk.
Ferenges (Hindi) Foreigners
Gamanayaka (Sinhala) Village headman
Gani (Sinhala) Woman
Gharwali/s (Telegu) Madam/s in a brothel
Gokshura (Sinhalese/Hindi) Tribulus Terrestris Linn – a known aphrodisiac.
Govigama (Sinhala) Caste of people whose chief occupation is that of farmers.
Gulab jamun (Hindi) A milk-solids based dessert, similar to a dumpling.
Hastas (Tamil) Expressive hand movements in Indian dancing.
Hirja (Hindi) Transgender/transsexual people.
Hoppers (Sinhala) Crisp bowl shaped breads made from rice flour and coconut milk.
Idali (Tamil) Steamed cakes made from crushed Urdu grains.
Iskolay mahathaya (Sinhala) School teacher
Jogti (Kanarese) Usually retired devadasi who work in temples as oracles. They go into trances and have prophetic visions.
Jowar (Kanarese) Sorghum
Kaai kani halwa (Hindi) Indian sweet that from sweetened grated vegetables.
Kaalai va nakkan (Tamil) No exact English equivalent – a greeting of welcome or good day.
Kalamkari (Hindi) A type of hand-painted or block-printed cotton textile, produced in parts of India and in Iran.
Kalhasas (Hindi) Clay pots
Kapuwa (Sinhala) Matchmaker
Karana/s (Tamil) The 108 key transitions in the classical Indian dance described in Natya Shastra. Karana is a Sanskrit verbal noun, meaning ‘doing’.
Karawe (Tamil) Caste of people whose chief occupation is that of fishermen.
Karma Sutra (Hindi /Tamil) A treatise on healthy living that also provides a guide on good sexual health.
Kiri hodi (Sinhala) Creamy coconut milk curry made with spices, thick coconut cream, onions and spices.
Kohomba kolla and lime mixture (Sinhala) A home remedy made of Indian lilac and lime used to lighten skin.
Kohu (Sinhala) Straw
Kos (Sinhala) Jack fruit
Kovila (Sinhala) Hindu temple
Kshatriya (Hindi) A caste of people whose are traditional occupation is that of potters.
Kumhas (Hindi) A caste of people whose are traditional occupation is that of potters.
Kurumba (Sinhala) King coconut
Laddoo (Hindi) Laddoo is made of flour and sugar with other ingredients that vary by recipe. It is often served at festive or religious occasions.
Machang (Sinhala) Mate
Malli (Sinhala) Younger brother
Malu ambul thial (Sinhala) Dry fish curry cooked in pepper, curry powder and curry leaves.
Mam (Tamil) Mother
Mamaji (Hindi) Mother
Mangala sutra (Tamil) The necklace that is draped on a woman during a marriage as the symbol of the nuptials.
Marcel (Tamil) Father-in-law
Marmee (Tamil) Mother-in-law
Mata lajai aiyo (Sinhala) ‘Oh, I am so embarassed’
Modalali (Sinhala) Shop keeper
Muddu (Kanarese) Darling
Muruku (Sinhala/Tamil) Crisps made from chickpea flour.
Nangu (Sinhala) Younger sister
Navaratri (Hindi) Festival dedicated to the worship of the goddess Durga.
Nawab (Hindi) Honoured merchant
Nay (Sinhala) No direct English equivalent, but similar to ‘eh’ at the end of a sentence to denote a question.
Nivi (Hindi) The style of saree most commonly worn today with the pleats tucked into the waist band and the fall draped over a shoulder.
Ossareeya (Sinhala) A style of saree that originates from the central highlands of Sri Lanka. The pleats are fanned over the hips instead of being tucked into the waist band.
Pallu (Hindi) The fall and most ornate section of a saree.
Pancha dakshata (Sinhala) Five skills
Paripu (Sinhala) Lentil curry
Pattam (Telegu) The last step before becoming a fully-fledged devadasi.
Perehera (Sinhala) A grand pageant held in Kandy, Sri Lanka, where the tooth of the Buddha held in the citadel is brought out and taken on elephant back throughout the city.
Pippalyadi yoga and japa (Hindi) An Ayurvedic concoction for contraception.
Pol sambol (Sinhala) Coconut sambol
Pooja (Hindi/Tamil/Sinhala) An offering to the gods.
Pooroochen (Tamil) Husband
Potta (Sinhala) The fall and most ornate section of a saree.
Puranas (Hindi) Ancient Hindu texts eulogising various deities.
Pusari (Sinhala) Hindu Priest
Putta/Puttay (Sinhala) Son
Puttar (Tamil/Hindi) Son
Ra (Sinhala) Sri Lankan moonshine which is made from fermented toddy.
Sadhu (Sinhala/Tamil) Holy man
Saliya (Hindi) Caste of people whose chief occupation was as weavers.
Sambar (Sinhala/Tamil) A soupy curry with a tamarind base made with pumpkin, eggplant, drumsticks and tomato.
; Sambol (Sinhala/Tamil) Spicy condiment
Sangeet (Tamil/Hindi) An important musical function before a wedding.
Sani (Tamil) Faeces
Shah (Sinhala) No direct English equivalent – an expression of admiration and approval.
Sharada Navaratri (Tamil) A festival celebrating the Goddess Durga.
Shatawari (Sinhalese/Hindi) A species of asparagus found in the Himalayas and Sri Lanka.
Shodi (Tamil) Gravy in a curry
Shudras (Hindi) A caste of people whose traditional occupation is that of labourers and field workers.
Suddha (Sinhala) White male
Suddhi (Sinhala) White female
Suddu (Sinhala) White
Tai Hanuman Udho Udho (Kanarese) ‘Praise Lord Hanuman who saved me’
Thaana (Hindi) Warp threads
Thairu (Tamil) A yoghurt drink.
Thali (Hindi) Similar to the mangala sutra.
Thangachchi (Tamil) Younger sister
Thosai (Sinhala) Pancakes made from crushed pulses and rice.
Vadai (Tamil) Spicy doughnuts made from crushed pulses.
Vedas (Hindi/Sinhala/Tamil) A large body of texts originating in ancient India. Composed in Vedic Sanskrit, the texts constitute the oldest layer of Sanskrit literature and the oldest scriptures of Hinduism.
Vedda (Sinhala) Ayurvedic healer
Vellalar (Tamil) Caste of people whose chief occupation was as farmers.
Vesak (Sinhala/Hindi/Tamil) A festival in May celebrating the birth, enlightenment and passing of the Buddha.
Vibuthi (Tamil) Holy ash that is made from incinerating homa wood with cow dung.
Watha rathu malkoha (Sinhala) Red-faced Malkoha (Phaenicophaeus pyrrhocephalus)
Acknowledgements
This book could not have been written without the consistent and enduring support of Shelagh Louise Reynolds and Leon Gettler. Every time I tried to abandon Saree, neither one would let me give it up and kept me going – Leon with his late-night chats on Facebook and reassurances that my voice needed to be heard, and Shelagh, who reminded me that she had earlier drafts if I decided to delete it from my computer.
On editing support – thanks again to the indomitable Monika Smith. There was an amazing confluence of opinion about Saree from her and my wonderful editor at Simon and Schuster, Roberta Ivers. Thanks also to Larissa Edwards, Kate O’Donnell and Elizabeth Cowell.
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