‘Alhamdulillallah! All praise to Allah!’ lauded Thawakkul. ‘This is good news, indeed. Have you accepted the salary of ten thousand? Isn’t it rather low, Siyama?’ Thawakkul asked.
‘I have no previous work experience. This is my first job. And ten thousand is not paltry. For us it means a lot,’ Siyama smiled shyly.
Thawakkul turned to Siyama’s smiling Umma who had said nothing until then. Meanwhile Gulfer brought in a tray with tea and served everyone. ‘The help that you have given us is no small thing, daughter,’ said the older woman. ‘Allah will reward you in both worlds, child. Siyama has told me that I need not work anymore selling my aappams. With her education she can now provide for me. Allah has truly blessed me.’
She slurped her tea noisily.
Yoga, who was following the conversation, found her respect and admiration for Thawakkul growing by the minute. She, who was now talking in such a sweet and gentle manner, was she the same person who shouted loudly enough to make the house reverberate last night? But there were people in this village who were scheming to push her into a corner and that indeed is the way of this world. It was impossible to escape. Thawakkul was just the opposite of what they expected a woman to be and they would incessantly remind until they brought her to her knees. These disquieting thoughts flashed through Yoga’s mind and she struggled within herself as she sat there.
Even after Siyama and her mother had left, Thawakkul sat in the same place, engrossed in her thoughts. Her decision for her life seemed to entail nothing but darkness in its wake. Unformed thoughts tortured her and she could think of nothing else except that the life of freedom that she had wished for was about to slip away. This was the first time she had ever felt so tired and defeated. Up until now, her problems, however large, would vanish as soon as a person whom she had helped smiled at her in gratitude. The thought that this would perhaps be the last person she would help left her feeling paralysed.
‘Raththa!’ Sano came over to sit beside. Gulfer and Jana followed suit.
‘We’ve never seen you look so worried, Raththa,’ said Sano, her voice choked.
Gulfer took Thawakkul’s hand in a firm clasp and said encouragingly, ‘Continue doing whatever gives you peace of mind. You’ve always said you’re doing what Allah would like you to do and that. He wouldn’t abandon you. It breaks our hearts to see you looking so defeated.’
Jana quietly slipped her hand into Thawakkul’s, tears welling up in her eyes.
Thawakkul was trying very hard to put on a brave face and not cry. This love was what tied her down. Wasn’t love supposed to give you wings? It felt as if the happy and interesting chapter of her life was coming to a close.
Yoga cursed her stars for not having been born into a family like this. A family that remained loving and supportive despite being threatened by hoodlums at their very doorstep. They wanted their Akka to do what she felt was right although they were fully aware of the gravity of the danger they faced. They could not bear to see her moping and miserable with her wings clipped.
To Yoga, these bonds of love and affection and love were beyond anything she had ever seen before. She thought of the purity of Sathuriyan’s unconditional love for her.
Habeeb had returned, laden with full shopping bags, from the market. Nisha gratefully took the groceries and disappeared into the kitchen.
Habeeb was sad to see Thawakkul brooding and morose. He patted her hair.
‘Magal, please forgive your Vappa.’
Thawakkul sprang to her feet, ‘Why, Vappa? You’ve done no wrong at all!’ she exclaimed in a choked voice.
‘When my child asked me a question, I, as an adult and a father, oughtn’t to have lost my temper. I know very well how much your heart would have been bruised by my idiotic anger. That was stupid of me. You’re our treasure. This family’s peace and happiness is centred around you.’
‘I understand that, Vappa, which is why I’ve come to a decision,’ she said drying her eyes bravely and sniffing a little. She pressed her head to his chest and sobbed. Bitterly she accepted the reality that in life one gets pushed into accepting decisions. ‘I plan to relinquish all my social work obligations, Vappa, and do as you say.’
She had imagined that all of them, Umma and Vappa included, would rejoice at this But her declaration was met with dead silence. The reasons why she, who had considered herself fully competent to lay down the limits of her own freedom and had travelled around happily, had now taken such a decision caused them infinite grief.
‘Don’t worry, ma, the Creator knows what’s in your heart. Everything will work out for the best.’
Vappa embraced her and held her close to his heart. ‘I have only one small request, Vappa.’
‘What is it, magal?’
‘I can get out of my social service work in general but I cannot break my promise to Yoga. She needs to be fitted with a prosthesis. Let her stay here for a week until that happens. I’ve also said that I would help her get to Anuradhapura. May I do that, Vappa?’
Suddenly she has become a child He was amazed. Every word of hers moved him. It looked as if he might start weeping any moment. He looked towards Nisha from the corner of his eye. She too had tears in her eyes. Though she could think of many other ways of getting out of this predicament, Thawakkul was caught in the trap of her parents’ love and could do nothing.
She returned to her own room, seeking solitude, lay down for a while until her restless thoughts drove her to rise again. She sat at her table, flipped through the pages of a book and tried to read and then tossed the book aside.
She couldn’t figure out who had decided to punish her thus and how many days this sentence was to be. Even one day seemed too much to live through.
Confusing thoughts and the wailing voices of hundreds of hapless women resounded in her ears.
Thawakkul was aware that she alone couldn’t cure all the ills that beset this world, but she wanted to be one of those who were making a push to do so. When the letter arrived soon after her engagement was broken, they had assumed that it was Sufiyan’s handiwork. However, to be fair, they had received spiteful letters even before this, although they had never been quite as venomous as these. Examined objectively, it was clear that there could not be any connection between these letters and Sufiyan. This was somebody else…
At times Thawakkul felt that these were religious fanatics who had merely misunderstood the words of the Koran and had taken the law into their own hands; morons who believed that if they subjugated proactive women like herself they would reform the entire community. They seemed to think she was a whore who deserved to be killed. They were blind to the real injustices and evils that afflicted society.
Thawakkul hated being compelled to change her lifestyle for the sake of these shameless peeping Toms who spied solely on women to show their ‘bravery’.
Although great progress has been made in technology and in education, the basic viewpoint of many has not changed at all. Girls, perceived by these misogynists as weaklings, would be considered presumptive and arrogant if they dared to take on any kind of leadership role or show any initiative.
‘How long,’ wondered Thawakkul, ‘will they continue to use their stupid yardsticks to measure their very abstract notion of women’s purity?’
Had she made a wrong decision by deciding to give up her career? She passed the day in intense mental struggle.
Tomorrow seemed to be engulfed in darkness.
3
Theivanai’s unheralded arrival brought everyone at home, including Thawakkul, to a much more normal state of mind.
‘When I heard you weren’t well, you cannot imagine how bad I felt. Only because you insisted, we went ahead with inaugurating the shop.’
‘Theivanai, all of us wanted to come and help with the inauguration ceremony,’ replied Nisha, ‘but unforeseen circumstances prevented us from doing so. How is business doing?’
Theivanai smiled wryly.
‘We opened the shop
only yesterday, Umma. I received two thousand five hundred rupees as gifts. Business will have to commence only now. But I had to come and see Akka before opening the shop today, which is why I’ve come so early today. We left home at six in the morning.’
‘Nothing is wrong with me, Theivanai. I told you that on the phone,’ protested Thawakkul gently.
‘You won’t believe it, how this child worried. If Thawakkul Akka does not come, I’ll not inaugurate the shop, she said. If you’d not picked up the phone when you did, that is what would have happened. I don’t think she slept at all last night … kept waking up and switching the light on, checking the time. In the end she got up at four o’clock, bathed, got ready and waited. She kept insisting that only after she sees Thawakkul Akka she will start the business and everything else…’
Rasammal said this in her own inimitable style and tone and everyone was totally engrossed in listening to her.
Yoga, who had woken up late, emerged from her room after her bath. Her hair, which had been cropped very short during her time with the LTTE, now nearly hip-length, was still dripping wet.
Theivanai stared at her as she hobbled in on her crutch.
She looked at Thawakkul and asked, ‘Akka, who—’
‘This is Yoga,’ said Thawakkul. ‘Do you remember I told you that I would introduce you to a new friend? Come here, Yoga, this is Theivanai. She has come from Kokkadicholai. She just opened a Desktop Publishing Centre in her village and has started her own business.’
When she heard the name Kokkadicholai, it was as if an electric current had jolted her. Yoga pinned an artificial smile on her face while her brain grappled with this information.
‘I didn’t open the Desktop Publishing Centre myself, Yoga, Akka helped me,’ said Theivanai smiling. ‘Whenever I come to this house, I forget all about not having a leg. I’m sure good times are about to begin for you as well. I stayed with them for two whole weeks and every one of those days was a happy day.’
Yoga felt that this visit was surreal and she was euphoric to hear that Theivanai was from Kokkadicholai. It felt like Sathuriyan himself had arrived.
‘First things first,’ interrupted Sano boisterously, ‘where’s the pongal and snacks you said you had made?’
‘How could we forget that?’ laughed Theivanai. ‘We’ve brought everything with us. Although we’ve re-heated the pongal, I’m not sure if it’ll taste as good as it would’ve done yesterday when it was freshly made.’
‘Let me see,’ said Sano, running into the kitchen to fetch serving bowls and spoons for everybody. Umma tentatively tasted a spoonful.
‘How is it, Umma?’
‘Mmmm, very nice. It tastes very fresh and I can even smell the milk in it. Try it, magal. Give a bowl to Vappa as well, ma.’
Thawakkul was happy to note that her Umma was once again enthusiastically and cheerfully engrossed in her household activities. As a mother, Nisha’s primary aim was to ensure that her daughter lived a peaceful and threat-free existence, and with Thawakkul’s vow to discontinue her career, Nisha felt that this end had been achieved.
Yoga could not help but feel envious of the easy familiarity with which Theivanai moved around the house, like she was a member of the family. She hugged Nisha and called her ‘Amma’. She pressed her face to Thawakkul’s sisters’ cheeks. She called Habeeb ‘Uncle’ and stuck to his side. She had changed the atmosphere in the house. There was no sign in her behaviour that she was physically handicapped.
Yoga wondered whether she could ever establish such an affectionate relationship with anybody. ‘How easily they’ve taken her into their hearts? My evil fate dogs my footsteps and caused such turbulence in this household.’ She brought herself up short and told herself that to wallow in self-pity like this was self-defeating. Her envy was only natural considering all that she had been through.
‘Yoga, please do come with Thawakkul Akka to Kokkadicholai one day.’
‘God does exist,’ thought Yoga. ‘Only because of His great compassion have I been introduced to Theivanai. This must be God’s will. She is going to take me to Sathuriyan.’ Yoga’s leg trembled and she abruptly sat down on the closest chair. She felt that she was dreaming a magical wonderful dream where she would live with Sathuriyan in a thatch-roofed clay house in a forest of sunflowers, jasmine and hibiscus flowers. Hidden in the areca nut palms around the well or in the coconut palms, the koels would sing incessantly. Sathuriyan would read with his head on her lap as she listened intently, ignoring the beauty and fragrance of the flowers and the song of the koel. He would ask her to sing for him and she would.
Sweet pomegranate orchard,
Areca nut palm-grove,
Hibiscus flowers,
Come all and listen to my song.
Oh bird, do not steal my wings,
Oh sunflower, do not ask for my beauty
I am young,
I am very young
I am brimming with mysteries,
I have fallen in love and am lost in it,
Oh, my life, do not abandon me
I have fallen in love and am lost in it.
She would pause to relish the satisfaction of knowing that there was another being in this world who lived solely for her and then resume singing. They would live their lives like reborn beings and frolic in the water.
Thawakkul explained to Theivanai and Rasammal why they had been unable to attend the inauguration of the shop. She also broke the news to them that she would soon quit her career in social work and that Yoga would probably be the last person whom she helped.
‘Chche!’ Theivanai scowled. ‘Why would they do this to you? No other social worker has your ability to read the minds of those who are suffering, Akka. It’s a gift, Akka. Why is your community blowing things out of proportion like this?’
‘It isn’t right to blame the entire community for one or two bad apples, Theivanai. The rules set by society are far more rigorous than those set by religions. It’s not as if there are no justifications for all that society imposes on a community, but we can’t accept or deny everything that they say. The culture that advocates violence against those who break society’s laws is prevalent in every village where there are Muslims. In one aspect all such villages are the same. Each will have at least ten people who are there just to ‘reform’ society.
Thawakkul’s heart-ache increased as she spoke; seeking answers to the never-ending questions was driving her crazy. A kind of sadness gripped her and she fell silent.
For a few minutes, silence reigned until Thawakkul started talking again, this time in a more cheerful vein, ‘Theivanai, you were in Vanni too, how come you never met Yoga at that time?’
‘There were several thousands of people in Vanni, Akka,’ Theivanai laughed. ‘It wasn’t possible to know everybody.’
‘Were you ever in Pampaimadu?’ asked Yoga. Her instinct told her that Theivanai’s friendship was going to be invaluable to her.
‘No, Yoga. During the time of the peace agreement, do you remember they gave us a holiday? I came home and didn’t go back. But I didn’t surrender either, so I didn’t see the terrible atrocities perpetrated during the last battle,’ she replied with a weariness of the sorrow that the memories rekindled. ‘Weren’t you afraid to surrender to the Sinhalese army?’
‘We were terrified, but we had seen such terrible sights during the last battle that our fear of that conquered our fear of surrender,’ replied Yoga shaking her head. ‘It was our brothers who surrendered first. I too thought the army would surely shoot us dead.’
‘You’re a female combatant,’ shrugged Theivanai. ‘Besides, people like us who have lost an arm or a leg or something are like de-venomized or defanged snakes. However, the male combatants were treated very differently compared to us. Most of them were taken away for interrogation and no one knows what happened to them afterwards. All the men who surrendered were tied up and shot. I cannot find the words to tell you what they did to all the akkas who stood in the battl
eground until the end, rape and worse; extremely savage revenge was exacted from them. The men who surrendered and have not been accounted for are numerous. Some of the bodies have been found lying here and there, bodies of those who were tortured by the army. The story of the suffering of the mothers, wives and children of such men is truly tragic.’
Theivanai’s matter of fact summary of the horrors of the post-war was an eye-opener to Yoga.
‘What is she saying?’ Yoga’s mind was in a whirl. ‘Was my Sathuriyan among those who surrendered and is now lost forever?’
Theivanai stood up, preparing to leave.
‘Akka, it is going to be nine soon. I need to leave now to be at the shop by ten thirty at least. I’ve asked my Akka to open the shop, but I know that she will wait for me to come before doing anything. On Monday I’ll visit the DS office, the school and all the other important places in the village and tell them that they can get their binding and printing work done in our shop. However, I need to learn typewriting, Akka. My brother-in-law knows computers well. I must learn from him.’
‘You’re very intelligent, ma,’ encouraged Thawakkul, ‘you’ll prosper in your business.’
When Theivanai stood up to leave, Yoga rose as well like a child that insists on accompanying whoever was going out.
Theivanai made her way to the dining table, where Habeeb was eating pongal for breakfast. She made Habeeb stand up and bless her and did the same with Nisha as well.
‘Akka, whether you come or not, I’ll come to see you,’ she told Thawakkul and kissed her on the cheek. Thawakkul embraced her affectionately.
Thawakkul felt that Theivanai would no longer need anybody’s help and could stand on her own feet. She was a courageous and sedulous young lady. Above everything, she had a very good heart.
‘Yoga, don’t worry about anything anymore. Whatever happens now will only be for the very best, just wait and see.’
Yoga felt there was truth in what Theivanai told her. She had heard nothing about Sathuriyan until then and it seemed like a good omen that she had met someone from his own village.
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