‘This afternoon, after lunch, I’m going to Anuradhapura and then to Colombo,’ she continued. ‘I can submit your statement to Wanasundara Bandara’s office. This grant has been made specifically to you upon my recommendation. I wouldn’t have done all this for just anybody, but somehow you’ve become very close to me. If I had just handed the funds over to you, you would have taken somebody else’s help in procuring all this equipment. I’m doing this to be a moral support to you until you find your feet. Please double-check your accounts. That is the right way…’
‘You and your right way, Akka,’grumbled Theivanai wearily and proceeded to write the letter.
This was the first time Theivanai’s mother had accompanied her. Nisha was trying to make conversation with her and doing her utmost to make the visitor feel comfortable. ‘How are things in your parts now?’
Theivanai’s mother smiled, but stayed silent. It wasn’t clear whether her reticence was due to a naturally taciturn disposition or because she didn’t know quite how to respond to Nisha. She seemed reluctant to make eye contact with Nisha when she finally responded, ‘What can I say? There is no crisis now like there was during the war, and we live in comparative peace. However, there is still some fear in our hearts. We see army patrols whichever way we turn; their camps are everywhere and everything is controlled by them.’
‘Yes, Thawakkul did tell us about that. Do they trouble you?’
‘Not like that. But the threat is still in the air. We daren’t venture out of the house after nightfall. When the LTTE was there we had no freedom, and now that they’re no longer there, we still don’t have any real peace of mind. We have to get a pass from the army to travel out of town. We have to say where and why we are going and when we will be back. My daughter voluntarily joined the LTTE. Many young people were conscripted against their will, causing so much anguish to their families. Now, although that problem no longer exists, many young people were taken forcibly causing anguish to so many mothers who would go around crying and hitting themselves on their heads and stomachs. Now that problem is not there. But even now when we see the army men with their rifles in their hands, we are so afraid. They seem to see all Tamils as Tamil Tigers. What can we do? Whether we want it or not, the Tigers are our children. Could we stop helping them? After a while the Tigers got their work done only by forcing us. The Army does not know all that. And did the Army leave us alone? What wrongs they perpetrated on us! They caught hold of innocent children said that they were Tigers and took them off to Boosa and Welikada and slaughtered them. Quite a few were just shot on sight…Now things are quiet. They even give rides in their vehicles to children going to and from school, they talk to them and behave very nicely to them. But still deep in our hearts we are always afraid…’
As Rasammal spoke, she extracted three little packets that were tucked into the waistband of her sari. They contained betel nuts, chewing tobacco and lime. She smoothed out a pair of betel leaves in the palm of one hand, spread some lime on them, sprinkled some cracked betel nuts on them, added a wad of tobacco to the melange before deftly folding the leaves and inserting the little green roll into the inside of her cheek.
Nisha watched this entire exercise with interest.
Theivanai and Thawakkul finished their work and came over to join their mothers. Theivanai, who had overhead a part of their conversation, said wearily, ‘I hate to even talk about all this. First, we thought that the LTTE Movement was good and that the army went around killing people. Now, the demarcation between the good and the bad is all blurred. They’re all opportunists who only want to fight and destroy whoever they imagine is the enemy. They say that if you don’t destroy them, they’ll destroy you. Destroying the enemy means rendering the enemy defenceless and making it impossible for the enemy to even think of opposing you anymore. The wars in our country failed to follow any rules of engagement. They were simply mass murders. Both sides proved their strength by killing people in large numbers.’
Neither Rasammal nor Nisha quite understood what Theivanai was talking about and their eyes reflected their total bewilderment.
Thawakkul nodded her head, saying, ‘I agree with what you said about both sides being opportunists, Theivanai. There are many international laws that govern warfare. Both sides transgressed those laws in a big way and ignored the humanitarian aspects of international conventions and most of the principles or protocols that were part of those conventions. Both sides committed war crimes. It would be impossible to forget the atrocities perpetrated by both sides. The final battle of the Sri Lankan civil war was without doubt a genocidal operation. Another point should be noted here – this was the first time in our history that the idea of “ethnic cleansing” was used – it was first used by the LTTE Movement. The expulsion of the Muslims from the east, taking over the agricultural villages of the area and evicting the people from there, systematic killing, all of these can be quoted as examples. It’s said that victory or defeat in a war depends on the strength of the army of the two sides and their political and economic state … However, we cannot say that only these things matter. I believe that in a war, the morale of the fighters on both sides is also an important factor.’
Seeing that the conversation was turning really serious, Nisha laughed and said, ‘Why do we bother about all this?’ and stood up. She had probably been bored by having to listen to a serious political discussion for so long, or she may have felt that political disagreements within the house were most unnecessary. Perhaps on some level she was worried that her daughter and Theivanai may fall out over this discussion, and hence decided it was time to change the topic.
‘Thawakkul, are you going to carry a packed lunch or will you join us for lunch?’
‘I’ll eat before I go, ma. An office van from Anuradhapura has gone to Ampara for some work. I’ll hitch a ride on it on its way back. So, there’s plenty of time.’
Turning to Theivanai, with her eyes shining, Thawakkul asked, ‘When is the inaugural function?’
Theivanai pouted her lips and made a face, ‘There’s no need for an inaugural function or anything.’
‘What are saying? You absolutely must perform a pujai according to your customs; why don’t you find an auspicious day to open the shop?’
Both Theivanai and her mother looked at Thawakkul in amazement.
‘Do you also believe in starting a project on an auspicious day?’ asked Theivanai’s mother.
‘No. We have nothing like that,’ said Thawakkul, smilingly shaking her head. ‘No rites, no rituals, no consulting the stars or figuring out which are the good days and which are the bad. I was only talking about your customs. Why must you leave them out? Theivanai always talks like she doesn’t really care about these conventions and customs. Don’t pay any attention to her and have a nice, big pujai, invite some people and do the inauguration. Invite me, I too will come.’
Theivanai’s mother laughed, showing her betel-leaf stained teeth.
‘Will you come, Akka?’ Theivanai asked eagerly.
‘I’ll be away for at least four days on my Anuradhapura and Colombo trip, Theivanai.’
‘That’s alright, Akka. We can postpone the inauguration by four days. Can we do it after you return on … say … next Friday?’
Theivanai’s voice was shrill with excitement.
‘Yes, magal, we don’t need to look for an auspicious day; the day you come, we’ll inaugurate the shop. As for the pujai we could do it any time before the opening.’
‘No, Amma … that…’
Nisha interrupted Thawakkul, ‘Why magal, they want it so much. It’s only six days to this Friday. Let them open it as soon as you come back…’
Thawakkul nodded her head, raising a questioning eyebrow at Umma. ‘Here’s my gift,’ she said and extended a small, cuboid, wrapped in glittering red wrapping paper. Theivanai looked profoundly uncomfortable.
‘You’ve already done so much for me, Akka,’ she protested in a choked voice. ‘You really di
dn’t need to do this.’
‘We didn’t know anything about this, Theivanai, open it and let us see it,’ chorused Thawakkul’s siblings and her Umma.
Thawakkul affectionately shushed them. ‘No, Theivanai, open it at home.’
‘No, I want to see it, Theivanai, open it, ma,’ insisted Umma, embarrassing Thawakkul.
Theivanai acted as if she was unaware of the conflict between mother and daughter and rather hesitantly started opening the parcel. She carefully prised the sticky tape loose with her nails to ensure that the wrapping paper was not damaged. Thawakkul watched her with a smile on her face. The parcel contained a mobile phone. Theivanai was overjoyed.
‘What’s this, Akka? How can I ever repay you?’
‘It’s not an expensive phone, Theivanai. I’ve loaded it with five hundred rupees worth of talk time. This is not for you to play games on or waste time chatting. In Theivanai’s Desktop Publishing Centre you can type-set, print and bind. If you could also recharge prepaid mobile phones, how great that would be? You should have a board outside bearing the legend Recharge your Dialog Pre-Paid Cell-Phones here. What do you say?’
Theivanai leapt up and hugged Thawakkul.
It was nearly nine o’clock when Thawakkul reached the headquarters of the Forum for Social Alliance Anuradhapura.
Thawakkul considered herself fortunate to work with this organization. It had no branch office in her hometown, Batticaloa, and therefore there were no restrictions imposed on her in terms of office timings, holidays, working days and other such regulations. She was expected to work independently, keeping the objectives of her projects in view and attaining the desired targets within the stipulated time. At the end of this exercise, she would submit her assessment of the results in well laid-out reports that elucidated how the objectives were met. Perhaps because she was able to work in an organization which did not incarcerate her within a large office building strapped in an office-chair during office hours, she had the satisfaction of widening and diversifying her scope of work.
The five-star resort where the event was scheduled to take place was by the river-bank, seven kilometres from Anuradhapura. The arrangements had all been made and rooms booked for the project co-ordinators and functionaries from the various district branch offices. Every delegate had been allotted thirty minutes to talk about their experiences on the field, the problems they had encountered, the projects they had worked on, what had been achieved to date, the projects they planned to work on in the future and to present the accounts of their work.
The inauguration was officiated by the head of the Forum for Social Alliance, Ruwan Alagama. He used the flame of a candle to light one of the multiple wicks of the ceremonial oil-lamp. Thawakkul was asked to light another wick on behalf of the women.
Delegates from Polannaruwa, Puttalam, Kandy, Badulla, Anuradhapura, Monaragala, Trincomalee and Batticaloa were the main participants at the function. Some of the district heads had already submitted their reports with power-point presentations. When it was her turn, Thawakkul presented her report. The ovation she received was thunderous and the applause went on until she returned to her seat.
Ruwan Alagama came over to shake Thawakkul’shand, beaming with pleasure. He praised her analytical and in-depth examination of the problems. As this was the first post-war plan that had been made by their organization for Trincomalee, Ampara and Batticaloa, Ruwan Alagama had expected a lot more from the co-ordinators in those areas. Only Thawakkul’s presentation had made the mark, complete with its facts, figures and statistics.
‘Thawakkul, please submit your proposed projects with budgets. I’ll definitely extend my full co-operation to you,’ he promised. He turned to the delegates from Trincomalee and Ampara and said, ‘Did you see her presentation? I would like your reports to also be supported by data and analysis. You’ve got a fortnight to complete this task.’
It was dinner time when the first day’s events drew to a close and everyone moved from the conference hall to the dining area where a buffet had been laid out.
Ruwan Alagama, Anoma Shanthini and Munasinga were sharing a table with Thawakkul. Shanthini, noticing that Thawakkul had served herself only vegetarian food, asked, ‘Don’t you eat meat?’
‘I do,’ she replied, ‘but I’m not sure whether this is halal or not, so I’m sticking to vegetarian dishes.’
Thawakkul wondered whether Shanthini would next ask her what ‘halal’ was. However, she didn’t. In an earlier meeting which included Munasinga, Ruwan Alagama and some others, she was grilled so much about her food habits that she had very simply told them that Muslims could only eat meat that was slaughtered in the holy name of Allah. This only raised a million other questions. As one of the Five Precepts of Buddhism is ahimsa, they seem to derive great satisfaction in faulting Muslims with the deliberate killing of living creatures.
She herself was not absolutely clear about the precepts of haram-halal. All she knew was that in Islam, the haram-halal concept was crucial. In the daily life of Muslims, haram-halal rules need to be observed when slaughtering animals. What is less known is that the meaning of haram-halal goes far deeper than a prescribed way of slaughter and has cultural and economic underpinnings. For example, if a man earns money through criminal activities or illegally, that is haram income. If he uses this ‘haram’ money to buy an animal and slaughters it using the ritual halal process, it still remains haram and cannot become halal. Thawakkul wondered whether today’s Muslims understood such intricacies of their own religion.
Hungry and exhausted, everybody concentrated on dining before they could retire. After their hunger had abated somewhat, they began to talk again. The conversation was about the state of the north and the east after the war.
When Munasinga asked whether the Tamils had changed their opinion of the Sinhalese people, Thawakkul paused before she replied,
‘For opinions to be changed, doesn’t the prevailing situation have to change first?’
Thawakkul included both Ruwan Alagama and Munasinga in her glance when she asked the question. ‘Although the war is said to be over, the causes, the problems and the just demands that led to the war still remain unresolved. I’m sure you must have heard the widespread talk – talk that is louder than the silence of the present peace, that says that the just demands and aspirations of the Tamil minority have been crushed.’
Thawakkul’s reply, which was in the form of a question, slid into a hiatus. She looked keenly at the enigmatic faces around the table, and then continued, ‘It’s a fact that the war has wrought deep fissures between the different communities and created misunderstandings in the minds of all. But isn’t it foolish to stubbornly insist that we will continue to follow the same path that is so obviously in shambles? I believe that the way for the two communities to arrive at a common understanding lies in affording each other mutual respect. If each community genuinely attempts to understand the other, there will be no problems between them. It is up to people like us to take up the responsibility to find the way to build a society for the new generation where this kind of understanding and respect flourishes.’
They listened to her with full attention. Ruwan Alagama was battling with a chicken leg.
‘That’s true, Thawakkul,’ said Munasinga. ‘But I sincerely believe that the main cause for communal conflict is language. In the future all Tamil schools should teach Sinhala as a compulsory subject and all Sinhala schools should teach Tamil as a compulsory subject, so that all Tamils will be proficient in Sinhalese and all Sinhalese in Tamil. A law should be passed to the effect that only those who know both languages will be nominated or selected for jobs. Tamils do speak Sinhala. But do we Sinhalese speak Tamil? To understand differences from a proper perspective, language is a fundamental element. Should our arrogance as the majority community keep us from learning the language of the minority community?’Anoma Shanthini and Ruwan Alagama nodded in assent.
Anoma said, ‘I agree, Munasinga. We only know that the
war is over but we are hardly aware of the stories of the suffering that each person and family has endured during the war years. The stories that we hear from international sources we dismiss as sensationalism and fabricated accusations by enemies of the nation. We don’t follow the local Tamil media or try to understand the problems of the Tamils. The Sinhalese media projects only the Sinhala viewpoint. The media should form a bridge that brings together the Sinhalese and Tamil people. If this situation is to change, it is indeed absolutely essential that both communities understand both languages.’
Thawakkul realized just how tired she was as she made her way to her room after dinner.The bright lights had been switched off, leaving only the lights that gave the place a beautiful moonlit ambience.
As suggested by the Sinhala name ‘Nelum Pokuna’, the resort had a large lotus pond on three sides giving it a peninsular shape. Lotuses and various other kinds of aquatic plants grew in abundance in the water. Moonlight gilded the lake with a silvery sheen and it looked like the moon had fallen into a clear patch of water.
Thawakkul was drawn towards the dimly lit benches beneath the umbrella trees that bordered the lake and she stood there drinking in the scenery. A little boat bobbed on the water in the distance. The silhouettes of the couple on the boat were visible in the dim light and over the water she could hear them laughing and clinking glasses. They seemed to be foreigners. Memories of her own romance rushed back and swamped her, for the first time in a long time, in something akin to envy towards the couple in the boat who seemed to be blissfully oblivious to the rest of the world.
She stood there hoping for the impossible – that peace and solitude of this beautiful night to continue like this for ever. Involuntarily, her eyes sought out the boat again. Seeing them kiss, she looked away feeling like she was intruding on their privacy. The cool breeze from the water somehow bothered her, memories from within turned her body into a cave of unfulfilled desires.
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