Ummath

by Sharmila Seyyid

  ‘I’ve been patient for so long,’ Yoga told herself, ‘I can wait a little longer. Theivanai is very fond of everyone in this family and her links with this family are not going to be severed any time soon. I will bide my time before I ask her about Sathuriyan.’

  The surge of hope breathed new life into her. She felt she had somehow come closer to Sathuriyan and her heart felt lighter. Kokkadicholai was a small village like Mavadivempu or Siththandi, or Eravur, where most people knew each other. It was likely that Theivanai would know of Sathuriyan.

  But…

  What if something dreadful had happened to Sathuriyan, something like what Theivanai had described?

  ‘Could there be any truth in what she had said about the army? The same army that had quenched our thirst, given us sanctuary and saved us?’ wondered Yoga.

  It could be! Everything was possible in this world. After all the experiences that I went through, how could I doubt that there could be another very disgusting side to human beings’ behaviour? They did everything exactly as they wanted! The victory of the army that carried out cruel and disgusting experiments on people had really saddened her. It could well be that they needed to show a humane façade to the world and so, having destroyed the evidence of their cruel acts, as Theivanai said, they protected crippled people to project to the world that peace had indeed been established.

  The seeds of the future that had been sown had to be reaped in due course. During the last battle, to demonstrate their superior strength and to establish their total dominance and victory, the combatants from either side did not worry about anything. This war was multi-faceted. We did not anticipate a surrender from which escape or desertion would be impossible. We never felt the least remorse when we took aim at a soldier and pulled the trigger, and didn’t really care whether the bullet pierced his chest, neck or forehead. We never took a body count of the soldiers we had killed, or realized how many Sinhalese or random members of the general public we had killed or how much public property had been destroyed. All that we cared was about how much progress we made, which camps we captured, which border we had breached and which strategy we had used to crush the Sinhalese government. The LTTE had risen up in rebellion believing that, by dint of our fire power alone we could establish a Tamil Eelam. The army has achieved everything they wanted. They used and discarded our women like banana peels. They forced us to mutilate and blind ourselves with our own hands.

  The information from Theivana imade her sit back and think very deeply, to analyse herself and her own past. It was only because she had become a combatant that she had met the love of her life. She stubbornly brushed away any other viewpoint, shut her eyes and fervently prayed that Sathuriyan returned to her safe and sound.

  The sharp ringing of a bell brought her back to earth. In her mind, the tinkling was a divine sign that God had accepted her prayer.

  There was the sound of a bell again. It was the postman’s bicycle. As everyone was in the kitchen, chattering and tasting the goodies from Theivanai, Yoga took the long, broad envelope from the old postman and nodded her thanks.

  ‘Where’s Yoga?’ asked Gulfer, emerging from the kitchen.

  ‘Yoga, Yoga,’ Thawakkul called out in a muffled voice from the dining table, nibbling a rice-flour murukku.

  ‘Ah, has the post arrived?’ she said glumly as Yoga came in, her crutch in one hand and envelope in the other. In this family letters always produced the effect of a slap in the face by ghosts and their terror clearly showed on their faces.

  Gulfer almost snatched the envelope from Yoga’s hand. ‘There is no “from” address on this.’

  As the envelope was opened, some photographs fell out.

  ‘What’s this women’s conference going on here?’ asked Habeeb smiling as he strolled into the room. Perceiving their terror-stricken faces, his expression changed to one of concern.

  ‘Who is the letter for? What are those photos?’ They silently passed the photos to each other. In one, Thawakkul was lighting an oil-lamp. In another, she was shaking Ruwan Alagama’s hand. In yet another, she was smiling broadly flanked by Ruwan Alagama and Munasinga. The note with the photos said:

  That day when you lit the lamp, the light went out of your life. The day you caught hold of a Sinhalese man’s hand and started chatting with him, sorrows have started chasing you. Just wait, the village is going to spit on you. The day when you will be standing in the middle of the road and stones will be thrown on you is not far. Till we bring that day to you, we will not rest.

  The letter was a printout in large font. Thawakkul was fairly sure that this was Ranuka and Powsan’s work. They had been deeply humiliated that day in a way that they wouldn’t be likely to forget for a long time. They had probably used those photographs to mitigate their shame to some extent.

  Nobody at home knew about the disastrous events that had happened in Anuradhapura after she had lit the lamp. She gave them a quick synopsis of the incident.

  ‘Why did you light that lamp, magal? Don’t you know that is flying in the face of our culture?’ Vappa asked in a disappointed and weary tone.

  ‘All I did was light a lamp. They’re making such a big deal of it like I had circumambulated a holy pipal tree in a Buddhist temple, praying to Lord Buddha.’

  ‘This is merely adding fuel to a fire. What kind of callous behaviour is this?’ muttered Nisha under her breath.

  ‘Raththa, why don’t you go to Colombo and stay there for a few days?’Gulfer suggested.

  ‘But who knows to whom they have sent copies of these photos,’ interjected Sano. ‘They say that they’ll ensure that the whole village chastises you, Raththa. If they send copies of the photos to our mosque, everyone will hound us. Even though we’ve done nothing wrong, there could be a fatwa portraying the lamp-lighting episode as an act of conversion, and therefore sacrilegious from an Islamic point of view. It can clearly be seen that you were talking to men from outside our community in a familiar manner. It is definitely better for you to live away from our village.’

  Yoga felt that Sano was right, even though she really could not see anything wrong with the photographs.

  ‘Why should I run and hide?’ Thawakkul asked herself. ‘If our culture can only be saved by punishing me, so be it, let them punish me. Are you telling me that I should bring permanent disgrace on myself by being stigmatized as a coward? Why do Umma and Vappa sit there, saying nothing … Oh, Allah!’

  ‘No,’ announced Umma. ‘Thawakkul needn’t go anywhere. Whatever happens, let it happen here, with all of us around, now that she has decided that she won’t work anymore.’

  Umma’s announcement encouraged Thawakkul and uplifted her morale.

  Habeeb seemed to endorse this view as he didn’t object in any manner to Nisha’s statement.

  ‘Allah is there!’ he said as he rose and walked away.

  It was all very strange to Yoga. ‘Were religious and cultural strictures applicable only to women? In any case, which religion doesn’t discriminate against women citing religion as the reason, just as with this persecution of Thawakkul Akka? Such cowards who send anonymous letters, fabricate and circulate scandalous gossip, accuse a woman of wantonness and ostracize her, exist in every community. Do we have to take it all lying down just because we are born female? It’s the woman who bears the brunt of the punishment meted out. The society has got double-standards – one yardstick for a man and another for the unfortunate women. A woman is dubbed unchaste if she is found speaking to a man. Isn’t sauce for the goose sauce for the gander?’

  Yoga grew weary of these thoughts. Thawakkul’s calm demeanour reflected none of her inner turmoil. In fact, everyone in the household seemed inured to these periodical upheavals and they resumed their routines.

  Yoga was waiting for an opportune moment to tell Thawakkul Akka about her love for Sathuriyan. At first, she had been unable to decide whether she should or not, but she had soon made up her mind to do so.

  ‘Why are you alwa
ys thinking so much, Yoga?’ asked Thawakkul, shutting the book she was reading, and sitting down beside her. ‘Tell me Yoga,’ she coaxed her gently, ‘were you asking yourself why you left behind a nice and peaceful home, to live in this fear-filled household?’

  ‘Aiyyo, no Akka, I am very happy here. There is no one here to curse me and yell at me. I can eat my meals on time and lie down in peace. I’m only worried for you.’

  ‘Oh Yoga, that’s sweet, but honestly don’t worry about me. I’m accustomed to these anonymous letters and abuses. The only new threat is that they say they will stone me to death.’

  ‘Why is there no end to this problem, Akka?’

  ‘Only time can end it, Yoga. I believe in Allah. I will ask Him to bring everything to a just conclusion.’

  A little crack in the veranda’s latticed wall provided a convenient nesting site for a family of squirrels. The squeaking they made interrupted their conversation and Thawakkul stopped mid-sentence to watch the mother squirrel feed her babies.

  After a short silence she began again. ‘You were definitely thinking about something, Yoga. Tell me, ma.’

  ‘Nothing much, Akka. Everyone has their own set of problems. If I have a problem, you have a different kind of problem.’

  ‘There will be a solution to your problem, Yoga. I’m waiting for Ruwan Alagama’s call. I’m confident they’ll take you into their Home.’

  Yoga felt she wouldn’t get another opportunity to tell Thawakkul about her relationship with Sathuriyan. ‘Akka, I need to talk to you about something else. I hope you will not take it amiss.’

  Yoga found she couldn’t meet Thawakkul’s direct gaze and looked away. ‘No, Yoga, why would I take it amiss? Whatever it is, tell me. Don’t hesitate.’

  ‘Akka, it’s about—’

  The treasure of her love which had been her closely-guarded secret for so many years, made her tongue-tied.

  ‘Tell me, Yoga,’ coaxed Thawakkul gently

  In a gush, she narrated the story of Sathuriyan’s love which was sculpted in ivory within her heart. Every word, every ecstatic gesture, was like that of a young bird cavorting in a bird bath. She had been carrying Sathuriyan’s memories like a tortoise which can never get rid of the heavy burden it carries on its back.

  ‘Only when I learnt that Theivanai is from Kokkadicholai, the idea of telling you all this came to me.’

  Having recollected the achingly sweet memories, Yoga now felt carefree and light-hearted. Thawakkul was not surprised that Yoga was in love; her love was pure and unsullied. Love is the driving force that makes the world go round; everyone in this world loves someone or something. No one has yet wholly understood the mysteries and wonders of love in all its intricate details.

  However, Thawakkul felt that it wasn’t realistic for Yoga to believe that Sathuriyan would return to seek her out. Thawakkul didn’t want to burst her bubble. What if he were still alive and emerged from Boosa or Welikada prison and manifested before her, as it happened in the movies?

  ‘Why are you silent, Akka?’ Yoga’s innocent and ingenuous face looked worried.

  ‘I was just thinking how much your life will change if you find Sathuriyan again. We’ll speak to Theivanai and ask her about him. She’s a bright girl; even if she doesn’t know him personally, she’ll ask around and let us know.’

  Yoga’s mind was teeming with thoughts. She felt that she had already found Sathuriyan and imagined she could see him standing before her.

  ‘Yoga, then why should you go to Anuradhapura?’

  Thawakkul’s question roused Yoga from her reverie. The bliss that arises from the contemplation of love is no different from the spirituality that is associated with meditation. In a crowded and noisy place, love has the power to transport one into tranquillity and the peace of solitude.

  ‘The one thing that has kept me going for the last six years despite my plight at home is the thought of seeing my Sathuriyan again, Akka. I’ll count myself very fortunate if I can get some news about him before I go to Anuradhapura. If not, I’ll keep on looking resolutely until I do find him. If Sathuriyan goes looking for me to my house, Kala is there to guide him to me, so there is no need to change my plans to go to Anuradhapura. If I had my leg, instead of having stagnated like a puddle in various places, I would have gone from place to place looking for him. I can never forget Sathuriyan, Akka. If he had loved me when I was whole, Akka, I would’ve assumed that perhaps he won’t love me now that I have become a cripple, and have wished him well wherever he is. But my Sathuriyan is not like that, Akka, he loved me when I was already crippled. He vowed, “I’ll come and take you away; wait for me.” How can I forget that, Akka?’

  She was unloading a heavy burden that had weighed down upon her for a very long time and she felt a great sense of relief.

  ‘Don’t worry, Yoga. Sathuriyan cannot forget true love like yours. He too will be longing for you and will come looking for you, or a path will open up for you to be able to go looking for him.’

  4

  Thawakkul was alone.

  Her siblings and parents were going about their business as usual having shelved all the dreadful imaginings that had preoccupied their minds for the past few days.

  Thawakkul was tired of doing the same thing over and over again. Read for a while, close her eyes, lean back and rest for a while, pace the floor for a while and then repeat the cycle all over again. She kept thinking of the machinations of the few who had sought to deprive her of her freedom to move around; had sought to sap her courage, her self-confidence and her clear-headed outlook on life, in fact, they had threatened her very existence. She was depressed by her self-imposed house arrest to appease the evil forces that had targeted her and to pacify her anxious family.

  As Nisha went about her morning chores, she couldn’t help noticing Thawakkul’s listlessness. It saddened her to see her vivacious daughter incarcerated like a butterfly in a glass jar and felt sorry for her.

  ‘But I have three more girl-children after her,’ thought Nisha, ‘and all their futures could be affected if this episode blows up. If only she had got married … Allah, you have to show us the right path!’

  Yoga had gone to Batticaloa to get fitted with her new prosthesis. As there was so much portentous danger to Thawakkul, both Nisha and Habeeb were wholly against her accompanying Yoga on this trip. A lot of thought was put into that, while Yoga stood by patiently, willing to comply with whatever decision was taken.

  After spending five days in Thawakkul’s house, Yoga’s numbing despair had almost vanished and she was both touched and impressed by the smoothness with which this family functioned. When pelted with stones, despite some ripples, there would be no change in its essence, it would continue to flow placidly. Yoga felt fortunate to have been blessed with the opportunity to swim in this beautiful river. Since her advent from Vanni, this was the first time that she felt free to inhale such pure air. Although she knew that she wasn’t here on an indefinite stay, the thought of leaving them made her sad.

  ‘If you ask that Anna to bring his auto-rickshaw, I could go alone with him, Akka. There should be no problem with that.’

  Letting Yoga go alone to complete the last lap of her quest went against Thawakkul’s basic principles. She felt she was breaking her promise to help Yoga.

  ‘Yoga Akka is right, Raththa,’ endorsed Gulfer. ‘Didn’t our Theivanai Akka go by herself for the training?’

  As the rest of her family approved of this idea, although she was uncomfortable about it, Thawakkul gave in. The most important thing was that Yoga should get her artificial leg. As Azeem was someone whom they knew and trusted, Thawakkul felt that it was perfectly safe to send Yoga with him.

  ‘Don’t worry, Akka,’ reassured Yoga. ‘I’ll manage very well on my own. I know that you would have accompanied me if you didn’t have these problems. I do understand the situation. You don’t know how happy it makes me feel to have you think so much about me and give me so much affection.’
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br />   Thawakkul’s family understood that Yoga wasn’t as articulate as Theivanai. By nature Yoga was quiet; furthermore, now that Sathuriyan lived within her heart, she only had time to talk to him and to think about him. She walked around with her head in the clouds.

  ‘Drop me at my class too, Azeem Nana,’ yelled Sano running to the auto.

  ‘Azeem,’ said Nisha, ‘on your way back, please give Sano a call and if her class is over, bring her home as well.’

  Sano rolled her eyes heavenward cheekily, and then winked at Azeem.

  ‘So no going to ice-cream shops or vegetarian restaurants for you today, Sano,’ teased Jana, ‘you had better get back home on time.’

  ‘What ice-cream shop, what vegetarian restaurant?’ asked Nisha frowning, ‘Sano, what’s all this? You should go straight to class and come straight back home. If you cause unnecessary problems, you’ll have to say good-bye to your education. There now, I’ve said it.’

  ‘What, ma? Jana Raththa has nothing else to do but make up stories and … and … Nana, you start, let’s go,’ Sano pouted in mock anger making everyone laugh.

  ‘Azeem, look after Yoga. Stay with her and bring her back safely. If there is any problem, give me a call,’ repeated Thawakkul for the fifteenth time to Azeem.

  ‘What are you doing, magal? Your phone has been ringing off the hook,’Nisha came hurrying up with Thawakkul’s phone.

  Thawakkul, who had dozed off on the easy chair, opened her eyes and took the phone from Umma’s hands. The phone had stopped ringing by this time.

  ‘Oh, it’s Ruwan sir. He has called three times, Umma.’

  ‘I was doing the laundry, magal. I didn’t hear the phone either,’ replied Nisha, drying her hands on the edge of her sari.

  Thawakkul rose and stretched. It seemed like another interminably boring day for her.

  She returned Ruwan Alagama’s call. She had been wondering how to break the news to him about her quitting work. She had decided not to talk about it until Yoga was safely ensconced in Anuradhapura.