Ummath

by Sharmila Seyyid

  Sufiyan’s face quivered on the water like the reflection of the moon. The love story which ended in her having to choose between him and herself had lost all of its charm and warmth, leaving behind revulsion and a bitter after-taste. Her mind blamed him for abandoning her but she firmly squelched these thoughts. She had to be congratulated for having extricated herself from a trap disguised as Sufiyan’s love before it was too late. She could do very well without love like that and acknowledged to herself that it was never true love on his part, only deceitful pretence.

  With the sound of the waves, a sound like the fluttering of a single wing of a bird, and the sound of her own footsteps falling on her ears, she slowly walked towards her own room. She stepped as gently as a pigeon. It was obvious that most of the guests were asleep as the lights in three-fourths of the rooms were off.

  As she made her way back to her room, she could hear sounds of raucous laughter from a distance.

  As she drew close, she saw some of her colleagues and people who had come to participate in the symposium sitting around on the large veranda near her room. She smiled and waved to them as she went past them, simultaneously fumbling in her handbag for her room key when all of them came crowding around her.

  ‘Oh, Ranuka,’ she exclaimed, confused and surprised as the co-ordinator of the Ampara district office suddenly inserted himself in front of her and stood casually leaning against the door.

  Thawakkul looked him straight in the eye fearlessly.

  Powsan, who worked with him as the co-ordinator in Trincomalee district, two workers who worked on the implementation of plans, and a couple of others crowded behind her menacingly. They were a group of seven or eight on the whole.

  ‘Look at her; she has come back in the middle of the night,’ jeered Ranuka. His rank breath smelled of liquor and cigarette smoke. ‘Can you try and guess where she has been all this time? Satisfying the Beeeg Boss! Hey, Thawakkul, please tell us how many appointments you have for tonight.’

  Asking her this, he brought his body very close to hers. She wanted to hold him by the neck, push him down, hit him on his cheeks with her slippers and throw him out, but in the shock and confusion caused by this man who did not let her open the door she could only ask him, ‘What do you mean?’ in a reedy voice that didn’t sound like her own.

  ‘When we speak, you ask us “what do you mean?” Thawakkul, but when Ruwan Sir talks you understand him so well. How come only our reports were not satisfactory? We have to do them all over again …and again … Only your work is satisfactory to him. How often did you meet him for him to be so completely satiated?’

  Powsan guffawed loudly at Ranuka’s nasty innuendo. The others clustered around her, cooing and cheering.

  Although she was trembling, Thawakkul stood her ground, ‘Nonsense … if you had worked hard, he would have appreciated you too. You have to go in person to the affected areas and talk to the people to understand the real problems. If you had done so, you too could have submitted good reports. If you work half-heartedly and pay people paltry sums to collect data, this is what will happen … Idiots!’

  All she wanted to do was get away from the hooligans. How dangerous was it for a woman to have gained the appreciation of a man? Although this aspersion was patently false, she felt that it was a fire that should be doused as quickly as possible. Ranuka’s drunken comrades were appreciating this drama with cat-calls, wolf-whistles and hooting with laughter. Ranuka, spurred by their sycophancy circled around Thawakkul, blocking her escape.

  ‘Ranuka, don’t create trouble unnecessarily,’ she was surprised to find that her voice had become strong once again.

  ‘That is exactly what we are saying. What you’re doing isn’t good. Is seducing Ruwan Sir the right thing to do?’

  She told herself, ‘I’m not responsible for his cheap thoughts,’ and tried to break through the leering cordon when he stepped in front of her.

  Powsan joined Ranuka.

  ‘Come on, Thawakkul, drop the act! We know what you are,’ slurred Powsan.

  Thawakkul forced herself to remain calm and not let her rage surface or her panic show. ‘How could you let me be caught by these morons, dear God? Save me,’ she prayed.

  To her amazement, as if Allah had heard her prayer, two members of the hotel staff appeared from nowhere.

  They courteously explained to the unruly social workers that their shivaree was disturbing the other guests at their resort. They looked curiously at Thawakkul, wondering what a girl was doing with all these drunken louts this late, although they were too polite to say anything.

  Thawakkul eagerly grasped the means of escape that Allah had provided and quickly explained her situation to the hotel employees, complaining about the behaviour of the inebriated slobs.

  ‘Being educated people, how can you behave like this?’ chided the concierge.

  ‘It was just a bit of fun. Thawakkul, you haven’t taken it seriously, have you?’ Ranuka’s voice was louder than before.

  ‘You go, Miss,’ said the concierge gesturing towards her room. Instead of opening her door, she turned around and walked away quickly. They had deliberately ambushed her outside her room and she had no guarantee that they wouldn’t try it again, so she didn’t want to be alone in her room anymore.

  Nevertheless, their behaviour did not really surprise her. This was the most common kind of harassment faced by all women who worked outside their domestic surroundings. Mean-minded, petty misogynists such as these considered a woman to be a cheap commodity. They felt that a man couldn’t possibly appreciate a woman without sexual connotations. Was this bias something that has been passed down through the generations? Would it ever change?

  Chdhe! Just because Ruwan sir praised me, they link us up together! Thawakkul wondered how to serve them their just desserts.

  Anoma opened her door only five or ten seconds after she rang the door-bell, almost as soon as she knocked on her door. How on earth did she get there? Wondered Thawakkul.

  Anoma, in a nightdress that looked like a Japanese kimono, was holding on to her walking stick very firmly in the darkness. Her grafted grey hair was tidily pinned back.

  ‘Thawakkul, it’s you! Why, at this time of night?!’ she exclaimed, stepping back and waving her in.

  ‘If you don’t mind, Anoma, please may I share your room?’ asked Thawakkul. As soon as Anoma opened the door, without waiting for her permission, Thawakkul walked in. She suddenly experienced the panic and confusion that she had not felt when Ranuka had tormented her. More than what they had said, their body language and the way they had said it was unbearable. She used the edge of her sari to dab the sweat off her face. But for some unknown reason she also smiled.

  ‘Why, what happened?’ asked Anoma, leading her to a chair by the window.

  ‘I’m … I’m just scared to be alone,’ Thawakkul replied with a shaky laugh.

  ‘Scared? I don’t believe that. You’re the most courageous and spirited girl that I know, Thawakkul. No. You’re not telling me something. Your face tells me that something has happened. Thawakkul, you’re our honoured guest today, not just anybody. Whatever it is, tell me frankly, my dear, please.’

  Thawakkul and Anoma had mutual respect for each other and neither would be found discriminating on the basis of age, sex, ethnicity or any other criteria. Thawakkul considered the older woman an affectionate, friendly, upright and conscientious human being, and an ideal role model.

  Upon Anoma’s gentle persuasion, Thawakkul poured out the whole tawdry episode to her.

  Anoma flushed in rage and said immediately, ‘Nonsense, so much has happened and you were trying to get out of telling me about it. No, this can’t be ignored.’ She dialled a number on the room telephone. Although she herself was livid at the persecution she had undergone at the hands of the monsters, Thawakkul was still indecisive whether this kind of precipitate action was required; she was also not clear about the course of action the incident called for.

  ‘P
lease, there is no need to do this now, Anoma. Why don’t we wait until the morning and decide?’ Thawakkul asked. She was disturbed and tense with worry. ‘There’s no way we delay taking action on this. They’re staying here, their rooms are being paid for by the organization. Just like you. Harassing you is wholly unacceptable and they need to be taught a lesson now!’

  When Thawakkul realized that the person at the other end of the telephone was their chief, Ruwan Alagama, her confusion increased. Was it so urgent that they needed to rouse him from his sleep? Anoma merely asked him to come at once without giving him the details of what had happened.

  Both Ruwan Alagama and Anoma were residents of Anuradhapura town. However, when they had training sessions and meetings, Anoma preferred to stay with the other delegates in the hotel rather than shuttling back and forth between her home and the resort.

  Anoma had been working for the past eighteen years in the Forum for Social Alliance, rising through the ranks to the position of secretary of the organization. Having been affected by polio as a child, both her legs were weak. She had decided long ago that matrimony was not something she wanted and lived alone. Nervous and worried, Thawakkul kept looking at her watch frequently wondering what was going to happen and also thinking about had happened. Perhaps I should have gone into my room and quietly gone to bed, she thought, instead of causing such a fuss in the dead of night. The watch showed that it was one-thirty a.m. Anoma, however, looked wide awake and very determined.

  Within half an hour Ruwan Alagama arrived, clad in shorts and a white vest. Surprisingly, he was very calm and composed. His thick strong legs were very hairy.

  Anoma narrated all that had happened without leaving out anything, just as if it had all happened to her. Despite his fifty-five years of age, Ruwan Alagama retained a strong physique. Slowly his fury grew as he listened to Anoma his eyes turned blood-shot and the expression on his red face changed. He asked for the room numbers of all those involved and stepped out immediately.

  ‘Sir, do we need to create more problems?’ Thawakkul asked mildly. However, Ruwan Alagama seemed not to have heard her at all.

  He stood for a little while gazing into the distance, before saying calmly, ‘Thawakkul, my self-respect is also at stake. How dare they? Most of our projects have to do with women and they have proved beyond doubt that they are not fit to work for or with women. Those who do not show respect for women are not fit for such positions. Why should we pay for their hotel accommodation? With travel expenses and so forth we pay them forty-five to fifty-thousand a month. All for what? No. This has to be addressed immediately.’

  He walked away rapidly without looking back at her or Anoma.

  7

  Following the three-day conference, which had been declared a success, the resort had seemed deserted. But Thawakkul had lost her enthusiasm along with her peace of mind because of the unwarranted sordid experience.

  Powsan, Ranuka and their gang had been sacked and unceremoniously evicted from the hotel.

  Ruwan Alagama and Munasinga believed that the extreme action taken against the miscreants was justified and assured Thawakkul that there was no need for her to have any misgivings on that front.

  ‘The contract states very clearly that if they behave in a manner that is insulting or demeaning to the office they hold and the projects they work on, they will be subject to disciplinary measures taken by the organization. They would all have signed only after reading and understanding all those clauses in the contract. We have only done our duty. Why should you worry needlessly? At our meeting next month, we will introduce some new co-ordinators. Don’t dwell on it anymore,’ commanded Ruwan Alagama brusquely.

  Thawakkul wondered why she could not take it as lightly as they seemed to have done. Munasinga echoed Ruwan Alagama’s sentiments and felt that people who did not value the opportunities that came their way and had no sense of duty deserved to be fired.

  They were on their way to oversee a new home for destitute women started by the Forum for Social Alliance. Anoma Shanthini had not joined them.

  Thawakkul was in no mood to enjoy the pleasant breeze as they travelled along a meandering road that was flanked by massive, majestic trees on either side. The spreading branches met overhead and dappled the bright sunlight as it filtered through.

  In a few days’ time, it would be full-moon in the month of May and the Sinhalese people were busy making preparations to celebrate Vesak, the festival which commemorates Buddha’s birth, renunciation and death. On that day, the men and women wore traditional attire – women in white blouses and white lungis and the men in white shirts and white lungis. All along the streets temporary structures had been put up beautifully decorated with fairy lights. In all the Buddhist temples (Pansalas) innumerable oil lamps were lit and the whole town was transformed into a magnificent sight. The chanting (pirith) from the Pansalas was heard all over the town.

  Anuradhapura is considered the repository of ancient Sri Lankan culture, heritage and history. All along the streets men and women were carrying offerings of white or purple lotuses on plates as they made their way towards the Pansalas.

  Arrangements were being made for the tradition of dhansala (providing free meals for all). Decorated shelters of woven palm fronds or tin sheets were being set up on the sidewalks. Men and women were busy setting up the Vesak pandals or enthusiastically inviting passers-by to participate in their celebration; they stopped their vehicles and offered them cool drinks. Thick mats were spread beneath the bigger trees where children sat eating snacks and kiribath (a rice and milk dish), while other children ran around, playing. The whole town was a charming picture of festivities.

  Thawakkul, immersed in thoughts that could not clearly be enunciated, was generally listless and barely noticed the picturesque surroundings. Ruwan Alagama and Munasinga glanced at her every now and then, worriedly. However hard she tried to think of other things and look at the sights outside, her mind harked back to those people who had left only bitterness and torturous thoughts within her. Those were men who were filled with dark thoughts, who were selfish and self-centred, she thought and her mind could not come up with any pleasant thoughts. Although she had seen and weathered worse, somehow this recent experience filled her with bitterness and sorrow. The heritage atmosphere of the town, which seemed frozen in antiquity, added to the heaviness of her heart and made her want to weep. The pirith or ritual chants of the Buddhists, which had now risen to a very high pitch, filled her with an eerie feeling of fear and depression.

  It was lunch time when they reached their destination. The home had been built for women who had no means of supporting themselves. It was an imposing building situated in a clearing in the jungle. The natural beauty of the massive trees had been left undisturbed and a pleasant breeze gently undulated the branches.

  Thawakkul, who had been engrossed in her tiresome thoughts, suddenly perked up. The spring was back in her step as she quickly assimilated and absorbed the various activities in the home, which seemed to be running like clockwork.

  As a brand-new establishment, it had only twelve residents which included the physically handicapped, widows and in-patients. They were women from different backgrounds – Sinhalese, Muslim and Tamil. Thawakkul spoke to two women who said that they had been left bereft when they lost their families in the last battle in Vanni. They had managed to find their way to this home with the help of a benevolent social work organization.

  The establishment, including the bathrooms and kitchens, had been constructed to meet the needs of physically handicapped people. The floors were even and all the doors were wide enough for wheel-chair access. The fixtures in the bathrooms were all wheel-chair-friendly as were the amenities in the kitchen. Female cooks, maids and housekeepers had been recruited to look after the residents.

  The inmates were given activities and rigorous schedules so they had no time to brood about their tragic losses or fret in loneliness. The vast acreage around the building had been dev
eloped into kitchen gardens so the physically challenged could grow tubers, vegetables and greens. The produce was used for cooking in the Home. They thus grew their food in the forest and it was totally organic. Most significantly, they had access to clean drinking water.

  Ruwan Alagama took her to the section where the residents were taught skills – tailoring, handicrafts, music, dance and language classes were in progress. The classes which were taught in Sinhalese were translated into Tamil by a bilingual young lady from Kandy. Thawakkul looked in wonder at this thin, petite girl and then her thoughts wandered to Kandy, a place that is cool and constantly wet. For a few hours, Thawakkul forgot herself in a whole new world.

  ‘I’ve never seen a home like this,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s wonderful sir! This place seems to be designed, organized and run by people who completely understand the needs of the handicapped.’

  ‘That’s absolutely correct, Thawakkul. It’s because of Anoma Shanthini’s participation that we have this building which is tailored to suit the needs of physically challenged people. Anoma Shanthini is a major asset for us because only someone with a handicap can understand others with limitations. In the future, every co-ordinator, including you, Thawakkul, must work towards the success and expansion of this home.’

  Thawakkkul immediately thought of Yoga. This place would be a welcome change for someone wilting with pain, disappointments and despair. But would they accept to accommodate her here?

  ‘Yes, of course. This home is meant for any woman who has been adversely affected. If you can bring her here, it would be another triumph for us.’

  Thawakkul had grown very attached to Yoga as a person and felt that this would be the perfect setting for Yoga where she would be allowed the freedom to grow and prosper.

  ‘What if the adversely affected woman were an ex-Tamil Tiger? Can we still take her in, sir?’ she hesitantly asked Ruwan Alagama.