Ummath

by Sharmila Seyyid

  Pathma placed the pestle horizontally on the mortar. It looked as if it might fall and roll in both directions then. She looked at them with ill-concealed disgust.

  Realizing that Pathma was looking at them, Thawakkul asked in a very soft respectful voice, ‘Amma, we actually want to talk to your daughter, Yoga. Would that be alright?’ Just then Kala walked in, and stopped with a shocked expression on her face.

  ‘Who are these people, Amma?’

  Thawakkul and Sahayawathani who had perceived Kala as a very innocent young girl, were surprised and very impressed at Kala’s impromptu histrionics and smiled at each other.

  ‘They’ve come to see your Akka. Find out what it is about,’ thus delegating the responsibility to Kala, Pathma bore away the rice flour on a winnowing tray into the kitchen.

  Kala’s face clearly showed that she had not expected Thawakkul and Sahayawathani to visit them that very day. However, she was pleasantly surprised that no objections had been raised to them talking to her Akka.

  Vathsala emerged from her room, ignored the visitors and left. Senthooran followed her out. Sahayawathani and Thawakkul looked at Kala with raised eyebrows.

  ‘That’s Senthooran, our brother-in-law,’ she replied to their silent query. ‘I didn’t expect you to come, Akka. I went to the temple and then stopped off at the tailors to drop off a blouse for stitching – the blouse for the sari that my fiancé’s family gave me.’

  She said this very softly so that her mother, who was in the kitchen, would not hear.

  ‘I’ll fetch Akka. Wait here.’ She darted off. She seemed vibrant, vivacious and very energetic in everything she did.

  Sahayawathani and Thawakkul looked at each other in relief, glad that their worst fears had not been realized.

  ‘Perhaps they have reformed after yesterday’s events,’ Thawakkul thought. ‘The family’s honour, that Vathsala and her husband set so much store by, would have been tarnished irrevocably by Yoga’s suicide. A girl who had come back from a rehabilitation camp, had been driven to the point of trying to kill herself, by the lack of love and support from her family. That would not only be a cause for shame but, in fact, a crime.

  Upon seeing Yoga, Thawakkul felt an instant connection and a feeling that she had met a long-lost friend. Yoga was in an old purple and white floral print dress which revealed her thin dark legs. The stump lay hidden beneath the hem of the dress. Her hair was braided into a long plait and wore a black sticker pottu on her forehead.

  ‘We’ve come to talk to you, Yoga. Please tell us everything you have in your mind – your problems, your desires … everything. We’ve only come to talk to you at this point…’

  Unlike the way she introduced herself to Vathsala, she introduced herself truthfully to Yoga. Realizing that she would never get such an opportunity again, Yoga began to talk, hesitantly at first, and then with more confidence. All her sorrow, bitterness and frustration came into the open.

  ‘That’s my entire history. I didn’t do anything wrong on purpose or join the Movement for a separate homeland. When I didn’t die as I had hoped to, I completely gave myself over to the Movement and worked as hard as I could for them. Strangely enough, I got the peace there that I didn’t get at home. Over and above that, I got the food that I had been deprived of as a child at home. I don’t regret losing a leg for the Movement that gave me so much. But what I can’t accept is the way it has all ended, Akka!

  ‘If the Movement had continued I wouldn’t be in this terrible state. Everybody says that the damned war might continue. I say, why does this damned peace continue, that is how I feel, you know!’

  Yoga’s eyes looked piercingly into Thawakkul’s.

  ‘We make our decisions based on our problems and our experiences. All the decisions we make therefore seem quite right to us. Not everyone will see it that way, Yoga,’ replied Thawakkul thoughtfully.

  ‘And it isn’t right to expect them to do that. We can only try to justify our reasons to them, Yoga. You’ve told us what you feel is just and right about the decisions you took. But you shouldn’t think that it’s universally acceptable. Look, you consider the leg that you lost was an offering to the Movement that gave you food and looked after you. From another perspective, it’s a cause for concern because so many people like you have lost their future. This is not something that we can discuss at a superficial level as you seem to—’

  Thawakkul stopped at that point because she felt that this was a bigger topic and required a lot more time for discussion.

  There was silence in the air.

  Thawakkul resumed, ‘You shouldn’t lose your future talking about what happened in the past and the rights and wrongs of it. At the same time, it’s important in life to learn lessons from the past and correct one’s mistakes. Yoga, you can’t spend the rest of your life imprisoned within these four walls. You have to become a part of society. There are so many paths to a happy and fulfilled life. To walk those paths, first of all, you have to come forward…’

  Yoga’s face broke into a radiant smile. She looked at Kala and laughed. Kala couldn’t remember a time when her Akka had smiled and laughed like this.

  ‘You are right, Akka. Sitting in a dark corner like this and eating whatever is given, is so painful. I told you, Akka, I came here in search of light and I had not imagined even in my worst nightmares that I would have to sit in this kind of darkness…’

  ‘Okay, Yoga. So, tell me. What thoughts do you have for your future? What help do you think you would need to make your dreams come true?’

  Thoughts of Sathuriyan flooded her mind. She felt like telling Thawakkul about the delightful love that was locked up in the innermost recesses of her heart.

  ‘But what will they think of me?’ thought Yoga. ‘Everybody is aware that the Movement, founded with specific aims in view, was built on the sacrifices of those who had renounced their worldly desires. There was no place for man-woman relationships there. What if Thawakkul and Sahayawathani jeer at me for falling in love? That must never happen. My love is pure and untainted. It’s a truth that does not need to be evidenced. Let it stay within me and perfume my heart.’

  ‘What are you thinking of, Yoga? Tell us,’ urged Thawakkul.

  ‘Akka, if there is any home for people like me who have lost a limb, please take me there and let me stay there.’

  Nobody had expected such an answer from Yoga. Sahayawathani looked at Thawakkul with a surprised expression.

  ‘Akka…’ Kala said in a low tone, putting her arm around Yoga’s shoulders.

  But Thawakkul’s answer surprised Kala even more.

  ‘Hmm … fair enough. You’ll find it easier to make friends and socialize if you are among others who are in the same boat. You won’t feel quite so lost and alone and perhaps you will even gain enough self-confidence to see that this is not really much of a handicap.’

  ‘No Akka, I don’t feel that losing a leg is a real handicap. I’ve spent more time in Arivagam and other rehabilitation centres than in the trenches and battle-fields. In such places there were only people like me. We were given an education and training to make us feel that it was no handicap to be crippled like this.’

  Thawakkul smiled as if she expected just such a reply from Yoga.

  ‘What training did they give you? What can you do?’

  Yoga began speaking with enthusiasm. She was like a new person who had decided that moping and crying was a thing of the past. She explained to her new friends that she had undergone high-level training in electronic equipment repair, a qualification that was recognized internationally. She had been unlucky because the last battle had erupted just when she and her training course mates were on the verge of inaugurating an electronics repair factory set up just for them by the institute.

  All this was news to Kala. She looked at her sister with pride.

  ‘That’s very clever Yoga! This is no ordinary certification,’ said Thawakkul cheerfully. ‘You can stand on your own feet with this. I
f we get you a job in an electronics repair factory, would you like to work there?’

  Suddenly windows had appeared and light streamed into the dark cave that Yoga had been languishing in.

  Enthusiastically Yoga replied, ‘I’ll do it, Akka. Can I really get a job like that?’

  ‘Of course. We will try for it. Don’t worry. You are not just somebody. You’re a skilled and trained electronics mechanic. We’ll look for appropriate opportunities. Yoga, consider me a sister like Kala, or a friend like Senbagam. Whatever your problems are, whatever your needs are, speak to me. We’ve identified your talents. Let’s see what we can do next.’

  Thawakkul extracted her visiting card from her handbag and pressed it into Yoga’s hand.

  Thawakkul and Sahayawathani rose and took their leave. Yoga saw them off happily, her heart much lighter than it had been before.

  5

  As they all read the letter, one by one, a nameless fear gripped them. Dark clouds covered their faces. ‘Vappa, why don’t we complain to the police about this?’

  Both Umma and Vappa were shocked by Thawakkul’squestion.

  ‘What a question to ask, magal. Don’t you know that if we go and take this letter to the police and lodge a complaint, we’re the ones who will be in danger? And we’ll become vulnerable to those who are waiting for an opportunity to grind us underfoot. They say that when half the village is at loggerheads with the other half, the village idiot will rule the roost.’

  From the time the anonymous letter arrived that morning, everybody was in a state of shock. Each read it several times over, barely able to believe the contents of the appalling document.

  Warning

  We have been watching how in the guise of doing social service, you have been indulging in anti-Islamic activities. We know that you are working as a prostitute in Tamil areas. You are a disgrace to the Muslim community. We will never allow the entire Islamic society to hang its head in shame because of you. You are an example of a sinful woman to all other Muslim women. Every time you leave the house you are going in search of your death and digging your own grave. If you change your behaviour upon seeing this letter, we will forgive you. Otherwise, the outcome will be disastrous. If you wish to save yourself from this danger, you should wear the abaya that is worn by all Islamic women and eschew all such activities immediately.

  Thus,

  Social Reformation Task Force

  The word warning had been written in big thick letters and underlined. The writing was clear and classical. There was no address given of the sender on the envelope. Thawakkul tried to ascertain where it had been sent from. She peered at the stamp affixed by the post-office from where it had been sent. The letters were not clear. Adding up the letters that could be read, it seemed to have been stamped at Eravurere.

  ‘Thawakkul, don’t delay, magal. Get ready to leave this village, at least for the time being. I’ll escort you to your Maama’s house in Kandy. Stay there for a while until all this blows over,’ said Habeeb in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Nisha agreed with him. ‘Vappa is right. In case you don’t wish to go to Maama’s in Kandy, you could go to Chachi in Kekirava…’

  Thawakkul was bitterly disappointed with her parents’ reaction to the libellous note.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she challenged. ‘Why should I go and hide somewhere? What have I done? I said we would go to the police, but you won’t listen. A man who has courage and virtue will not write an anonymous letter like this. Why should I cower in fear because some man says “boo!”?’She nearly screamed out the last words. There was sweat on her face and her lips were trembling in anger.

  But no one was in a mood to see her point of view. Her sisters, who were just as shaken by the poison pen letter as their parents, advised her to follow Umma and Vappa’s suggestion and disappear for a while, at least until the dust had settled.

  ‘Magal, we need you. Allah, we cannot even imagine having to lose you,’ Umma was crying on one side, Vappa on the other.

  Thawakkul could not bear to hurt her beloved Umma and Vappa. Though everyone’s peace had been shattered, she still remained firm in her resolve.

  .No one could go back to their routines. Time seemed to stand still in Habeeb’s household. They stayed where they were, frozen on the spot. Umma had surprisingly no thoughts about the day’s cooking. Usually she would want to make sure her daughters ate on time. Vappa sat on his easy chair without any movement. His eyes wandered between the walls and the ceiling.

  Thawakkul, disgusted with the false accusation and her parents’ suggestion for her to leave, went to the dining table and poured herself a glass of water from the jug on the dining table. She then splashed water on her face at the sink and carefully patted her face dry. Her turbulent thoughts slowed and her anger simmered down. ‘Only spineless cowards send anonymous letters,’ she muttered, cursing them.

  The letter seemed to have permeated everyone in the house like an Iblis, playing cruel tricks on their minds. The more she thought about it, the more confident Thawakkul grew that she would be able to restore normalcy to her home very soon.

  She gazed at the letter on the table, frowning in concentration before picking it up. Beside the letter lay another envelope. Two letters had arrived in that morning’s post, but in the ruckus generated by the anonymous letter, they had completely forgotten about the second envelope. On the envelope, the address of the sender had been written in a clear and legible script. It was from Wanasundara Bandara’s Widows Rehabilitation Centre. Thawakkul carefully slit open the edge, unfolded the sheet of paper and smoothed it out.

  Her family seemed to be holding its breath in dread and apprehensive anticipation of what this second letter might contain.

  Thawakkul’s face lit up with a radiant smile. She extracted a second piece of paper from the same envelope.

  ‘Yes,’ she yelped, punching the air in exhilaration.

  ‘Umma, look! Here’s a cheque for fifty thousand rupees for our Theivanai. You remember Wanasundara Bandara who came to our house the other day. He has sent it for her.’ It was as if she had completely forgotten what had transpired a short while ago.

  The others looked at her in consternation.

  ‘What do you mean, our Theivanai?’ asked Nisha querulously. ‘Is she your sibling? While I, your mother, am in agony worrying about you, you’re crowing in delight because some money has arrived for some outsider to set up a new life? Allah alone knows from where you’ve got your lopsided priorities.’

  Although these words disappointed her, Thawakkul could well understand her mother, and looked into her face as she said, ‘Is that you, Umma, who is speaking like that? “You are also like a daughter to me,” was what you said as you blessed her. Was that a lie, Umma? What can I do, Umma? To me the joy of being able to fund a new beginning for someone far outweighs the sorrow produced by the letter that tried to undermine me.’

  ‘Magal, you’re a girl. There’s an inherent danger in what you call your happiness. From the day you started doing social work we’ve encountered nothing but problems and malicious tongues have been incessantly wagging. Do we need this? You’ve lost out on the life that you had hoped for with a man you loved, and now you stand here alone. Our hearts ache so much for you – don’t you understand?’

  When Vappa too joined in and started giving his advice in a firm voice, his homily, Thawakkul fell silent. She could not deny the justness of their point of view and was weighed down by guilt that her entire family had been subjected to so much humiliation because of her. She was tempted to throw in the towel and abandon all the projects that were so close to her heart.

  Her mind scoffed at the very thought of changing her address in deference to a letter without an address.

  The next day, Thawakkul resumed her regular work. Habeeb was cleaning his motor-cycle in the yard, indicating that he too had begun his regular activities.

  On a normal day, Nisha’s energetic routines – providing and carin
g for her family, from the crack of dawn to sundown – inspired her children and her husband to emulate her in their daily schedules. However, things were very different this day. Nisha hadn’t slept at all the previous night and was sitting listlessly brooding by the kitchen table. Thawakkul’s sisters were sitting with Umma. Thawakkul did not know how to console her.

  She decided that Time, the great healer, would work its magic on Umma, and stepped out. As she descended the porch steps, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Gulfer.

  ‘Theivanai will come today. The cheque has to be deposited in a current account for us to be able to draw the money, so I’m off to the bank, now. Ask her to wait here for me if she arrives before I return.’ Having said that, Thawakkul rushed down the steps without waiting for a reply and hurried past Vappa who was tinkering with his motor-bike. Nisha gazed after her daughter filled with a nameless dread. The gate clanging shut sounded like a death knell to her overwrought soul.

  ‘Why is she like this? I gave birth to her and now I am carrying fire in my womb … Allah should give her some good sense…’ She hit herself on her face with both her hands and blabbered.

  ‘Why do you make yourself so miserable, Umma? We’re all afraid and feeling the pain of this. However, Raththa doesn’t seem worried at all and we’ve seen this any number of times before. Perhaps Allah is with Raththa just as Raththa says – let us also believe that, Umma,’said Gulfer.

  ‘They say, “You need to be afraid of venturing out only if your pockets are lined with gold.” If Raththa were indeed treading the wrong path, she wouldn’t have the courage to ignore all this harassment. Her conscience is clear as she follows the path of Allah. It’s Allah who gives her the courage. He will save her,’ said Jana putting her arm around Umma. Nisha calmed down.

  Habeeb too left after some time. Nisha was aware that Habeeb was not angry with Thawakkul. She believed that it was despair that had made him so quiet.

  Thawakkul, who would never go out anywhere without telling her parents, today didn’t even look at her Vappa who was in the courtyard when she left. This upset Nisha more than anything else.