They looked at Vappa’s scrubbed sleeping face, fresh and bright. His eyes were shut, hands crossed and tied to stay on his chest. Every little detail upset them.
Their minds were grappling with the truth that their Vappa who would come running if they so much as screamed with terror at a cockroach, was now lying still and lifeless despite all their crying and calling out to him.
Someone pulled them away from the mayyith.
‘Get those children away from the body. They might just fall on the janasa.’
‘Don’t scream, children! Nothing is in our hands.’
‘Everything is because of that Thawakkul! A girl should behave the way a girl is supposed to behave. If she acts like a man, this is what happens. The girl’s arrogance has cost the family the life of a man!’
Nisha couldn’t bear to listen to whoever said this in the crowd. Under cover of the din of the funeral wake, the innuendos and aspersions were rampant. These comments enraged Gulfer who stood up in rage wanting to ask everybody to get out.
‘No, magal,’ said Nisha, fluttering anxiously, ‘calm down.’
As soon as the janasa was properly buried, Nisha told Subair’s wife Sulaiha, ‘Thawakkul’s life was centred around her Vappa. She shouldn’t blame herself for his death. This was the will of Allah. My daughter has done nothing wrong. She will be torturing herself with these thoughts right now. You should somehow console her and send her to Colombo. It is best if she does not return to the village for a while. Her work with other people over there will be therapeutic and her wounds will gradually heal. If you tell her that I told her to do so, she will obey. The people here will kill her just with their talk if she returns.’
‘Don’t worry. We have left her with my sister’s children. Don’t let your mind become weak with worry. We will talk to her and console her.’
Thawakkul lived in anguish and constantly saw her Vappa in her mind. She cried incessantly. Subair Chacha and Sulaiha Chachi had to tend to her like she was a baby.
‘Precious, you need to eat something. You haven’t even sipped any water. Do you think your Vappa would want you to languish like this?’
The word ‘Vappa’ was enough to make her start sobbing again. For the sake of her concerned uncle and aunt, she tried to pretend that she had overcome her grief and had become her normal self again. But she was not used to pretending and the veneer of serenity was brittle.
Her uncle picked up her mobile phone and gave it to her because he saw that there was a call from Ruwan Alagama. She stared at the phone for a while and then pressed the answer button.
For the last few days, Subair Chacha had been handling her phone. Even if the telephone rang all day, she would scarcely glance at it. Noticing this, Subair Chacha had to take charge of her phone. Thawakkul’s friends, acquaintances and many others kept calling to convey their condolences. Some people called continuously to ask about her. They were worried that she did not talk to them and they asked her to have courage.
She pressed the answer button and held the phone to her ear for a while silently. The words wouldn’t come and she hiccupped sadly.
‘I don’t know what to say to console you,’ said Ruwan Alagama, echoing everybody else’s words. ‘Thawakkul, I know this is not the right time to say this, when you are so heart-broken, but we have decided to terminate your employment with our organization.’
She wanted to ask why, but then realized that she really didn’t care.Although she had herself decided to resign from the Forum for Social Alliance a long time ago, their decision to let her go came as a rude shock.
‘Thawakkul, somehow or the other some complaints about you have gone up to the CID and they have been making enquiries. It looks like you have some other enemies as well. If you work with us with all your problems, we think it may cause difficulties for our establishment. For one person, we cannot jeopardize the future of our organization, can we?’
She was very upset that the head of an organization for communal harmony should take such a stand in the face of injustice done to a girl and her family. She realized that she was at a turning point in her life when her entire outlook on life was to change and that she was coming face to face with the ugly aspects of life; as such, she listened to him without saying a word and accepted everything quietly as if it was all very normal and most natural.
She was shocked that she had been fired and even more shocked by the reason for her dismissal; however, she resolved that she would not be saddened by it and composed her mind. The face of reality was more disgusting than fearful, she thought. It was worrying to realize that it was human nature to be willing to even murder the truth for their selfish interests.
She was further shattered when she got the same kind of treatment from Wanasundara Bandara, Marshall and Zelin. She began to develop a hatred for the entire human race as beings that lacked loyalty. She quickly pulled herself up short and deliberately changed her cynical opinion. She felt that she, the daughter of such a loving and virtuous man as Vappa, should not generalize in this manner. She wanted only to believe that there was a life and a journey waiting for her in the future.
Umma and Chacha had forced Thawakkul to email everyone concerned to say that she wished to stay in Colombo for a while and that she would like some kind of a job there. They had all told her that any time she wanted a job, they were willing to take her on.
Subair was afraid that Thawakkul was gradually sinking into a decline because she was always curled up in her bed or sitting around listlessly staring into space.
He believed that society not only opposed those who have committed crimes or transgressed the values and principles of society, it also attacks those who are too weak to defend themselves. He felt that a talented and strong individual like Thawakkul who was capable of achieving great things had entered the baleful glare of society’s limelight, a society which was afraid that she would expose its warped and primordial value systems. Therefore, they attacked her weakest point – her family – with disastrous results.
‘Thawakkul, you should not give up like this, ma,’ he told her encouragingly. Look at gold, it shines brightest when it is heated. Whom does death spare? No one. We’re all going to die one day. About a lakh of people die every minute. But that fact does not prevent others from living their lives. We can’t brood about it all the time. To teach those who think that your story is over – not just yours (although there will be nobody who will dare to be strong like you) – you should rise, stronger than ever, so strong that no one can even come close to you! You can do it! Allah will lift you up. All these experiences are going to lead to that.’
Encouraged by these words, she tried to sit up. But the horrid truth of Vappa’s death came back to torture her and she was unable to break free. Her father had died an early and unnatural death because of what she had been trying to achieve in life. This was a massive debt to her family which she would never ever be able to repay. Agonizing thoughts like these haunted her every waking hour.
Umma and Chacha, who were firm believers in occupational therapy, had convinced and compelled Thawakkul to email her contacts to let them know that she was ready to take up a fresh posting, preferably in Colombo. These were a network of her friends, acquaintances and colleagues who had always assured her that they were willing to take her on any time she wished to make a change, so she didn’t hesitate to flag up that she was now at a loose end. Planning and hoping for the future seemed an exercise in futility when she realized how fickle human behaviour was.
This is what the human rights activist Marshall said in her email:
News of your father’s death is truly painful to contemplate. At this time, I think it is appropriate that you stay with your mother and sisters at home. If we take you back to work for our organization, our work may suffer. The CID is watching you. They may call you in for further questioning. All this will affect our organization adversely. I am sorry, but I find myself unable to help you at this time…
Wanasu
ndara Bandara, who had told her to come to Colombo to work, had also written to her along similar lines.
‘Is all their talk about human rights, women empowerment and sustainable development just talk?’ Thawakkul wondered. ‘Are all those big words only for the benefit of donor organizations? They fawned over me so much when I was in the field doing work on their behalf because at that time they needed me.’
She felt used and disillusioned. ‘I earned them their money,’ she thought with dawning cynicism. ‘I worked sincerely and gave them a clear picture of the lives of the people who were in great distress. They used them as reports and practically sold them. In all fairness, they ought to have raised their voices for me and protected me.’
‘Raise their voices for me! If a foreign organization showed some willingness to provide funds, they will not only raise their voices but they will get down on the streets and shout slogans.’
She missed the stalwartness of her Vappa. ‘How well he knew the ways of the world! He said, “We cannot expect anyone to help us.” How true were his words when he said that we have to solve our problems ourselves!’
Thawakkul’s mind grew tired of thinking the same thoughts over and over again. The disappointment and frustration caused by the recent events tossed and turned in her restless mind. She was constantly irritated with a foolish society which saw what was not there and was guided by that delusion.
The only voice that did give her some consolation was that of Suvash. Although he was so far away only he was capable of soothing her without the worthless platitudes.
‘Nothing is in our hands, Thawakkul,’ he had said matter-of-factly. ‘What is beyond redemption isn’t worth talking about. Don’t worry, Thawakkul. I’ll make all the arrangements for you to come to Nepal. Be ready. In just three days you will be in Nepal. You shouldn’t stay there. Right now, it’s crucial that you move away from Sri Lanka.’
Yes!
She wanted to move out of home more than anything else. Making a fresh start was not something shameful and she began to prepare for her departure in earnest. ‘Let these events just be a turning point in my life,’ she thought. ‘Let it be a chapter that has closed in the history of her life, and a new promising chapter would now commence,’ she told herself; she would fling away all the burdens she carried now.
She firmly resolved to set out on a brand-new course that would not only give meaning and substance to her life but would also heal and make her tortured mind and restless soul whole again.
Suvash’s wife also spoke to Thawakkul a few times. As a doctor, she was most concerned that Thawakkul should not lose her morale and spoke to her with very carefully chosen words.
Nisha decided that although she was worried about Thawakkul travelling far away to Nepal, she would not stop Thawakkul from attaining the freedom she longed for. She believed it was best to let her daughter, who was like a spring of water, flow without hindrance. As a mother she thought she should give her full consent and blessing for her daughter to go and set up a new life at a time when the omens and signals were right for her to move.
Why do people who wish for the times to change not script their children’s future by encouraging them to be the agents of change? Nisha wanted to make sure that Habeeb should be the last to suffer punishment at the hands of society’s self-appointed judges.
The day that Thawakkul reached Colombo was the thirteenth day since Habeeb’s death. The night before her journey, Thawakkul went with her Chacha and Chachi to see Umma. To Nisha’s worried maternal eyes, Thawakkul looked gaunt and sad. Her bright eyes had lost their lustre. To Thawakkul, Umma seemed emaciated, the veins in her neck were visible and her eyes had sunk deep into their sockets. Mother and daughter held each other and wept.
‘Umma, I have reduced you to this state. I have robbed this house of Vappa’s voice … Allah, please forgive me!’
‘What has happened has happened,’ Nisha bravely stemmed her tears. She wanted her daughter to start her journey without worrying about her. ‘Go in peace, daughter. Allah is there. I have laid all my burdens on Him.’
She hugged her daughter and kissed her forehead.
Thawakkul went to Vappa’s room and sat on his bed with her eyes closed. However difficult the situation was, her Vappa would softly run his fingers through her hair and calm her down. Her Vappa only knew and understood love. His kind, impish, weather-beaten face, appeared in a variety of expressions, one after the other as she kept her eyes closed.
She opened the cupboard. She ran her hands over his clothes that were stacked there and smelt them. A sudden heavy memory made her feel that she might lose consciousness.
‘Come, magal.’
Subair Chacha had noticed her faltering and led her out of the house, his protective arm around her shoulders.
The computer screen that was at her eye level showed that the boarding gates for her flight had opened. Thawakkul got up and walked.
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An Interview with the Author Sharmila Seyyid
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An Interview with the Author
Sharmila Seyyid
1. Let us begin with your childhood. What it was like growing up in Eravur? What school system did you go through? And can you tell us something about your education in general?
I was born in Eravur on 11 October 1982 to Hairunnisha and Seyyid Ahmed, in an ordinary middle-class family, and lived with my parents and siblings – three sisters and a brother – in a cheerful household. Eravur was then endowed with all the bounties of nature. I had a happy childhood with many successes to my credit. Batticaloa was a fertile region, a land of ‘milk and honey’, where fishing and agriculture were the main occupations of the people. My father was a prosperous and fairly well-known figure in the area, a merchant who traded between the eastern regions and the capital. His main trade was in fish.
Eravur is a Muslim majority township. I started courting controversy at a very young age when I refused to wear clothes that covered the ankles to attend classes in the Madrasa and continued later by refusing to wear a purdah. Even at the age of twelve, I wore clothes that showed my knees, and cycled around blithely with my hair flying in two plaits. The village was shocked by this behaviour. In a society that does not let a girl enjoy her childhood, in a society that looks at a seven-year-old child as a woman, I grew up with my head held high and cherished my independence.
Al-Azhar Vidyalaya was my first primary school. Studying came very easily to me. I, who was considered a trouble-maker, excelled in my studies. I would like to mention one more thing: I stubbornly refused to go to my Quran classes wearing clothes that covered my ankles and always had red grazed knees from playing; but eventually I did go and by the age of six I had learnt to read the Quran in its entirety! In fact, I could read the Quran even before I started going to regular school.
After Grade 8, I moved to Eravur Rahmaniya Vidyalaya. I continued my studies despite my Vappa’s feeling that I had had enough of an education. A school close to my home, I felt, restricted my world and that is why I moved to Rahmaniya which was a fair distance away. I studied there until I sat for my Advanced Level exams. My schooldays were a very happy period in my life.
After finishing high school, I went to university in Colombo to pursue my education. I did this after a hard struggle and protests that included fasting for long periods. Even though they had let me grow up as a free spirit, neither of my parents could accept the idea of sending me to a city that was 340 kilometres away from home. I had taken an A-level examination in journalism; my heart was set on this profession and that was the incentive for my wanting to go so far from home. During the six-month period when I was awaiting the results of the examinations, I was admitted to a Computer Science Diploma course at a private college in Batticaloa, both to spend my time gainfully and to get me out of a house where people did not know how to deal with me. The results of my A-levels came with admission
to a College of Education. My parents and relatives tried to persuade me to accept it as then the position of a teacher would be assured. But my wish was to study journalism. No one was prepared to agree to that. I continued my resistance movement with quarrels and arguments and fasts.
This turn of events affected me badly. By that time, those who had studied with me were already six months into their higher studies. This also increased my parents’ anger.
Nobody paid any attention to my insistence that I was going to Colombo to study as that was the only place where one could study journalism. I was warned that nobody could survive in Colombo without the knowledge of the Sinhalese language and that it was totally impossible for a girl to live alone in that city. My continued struggle and fasting nearly brought me into the jaws of death and, at long last, consent was given just to keep me alive.
By the time I got to Colombo the long break in my studies made me impatient to get on. Learning a new language and new friendships changed me in many ways. My horizons widened. I acquired a Bachelor of Education degree from Colombo Open University, a BA in journalism from Colombo University and a Diploma in Psychology from the Eastern University of Sri Lanka. Besides all this, while studying for these degrees, I was also working as a journalist; the travelling that this entailed taught me a lot about human rights. Ever since I was a little girl I have wanted to study law. I had already started preparing myself for the entrance exams to study law when I participated in an interview on the BBC in which I gave expression to my opinions on the legalization of prostitution. The fall-out of that programme completely overturned my life and my education had to end abruptly. Those experiences taught me that I must try and get a degree in Social Work and right now I am about to complete my studies in that field.
2. I would like to understand a little more of your relationship with your parents and especially how you interacted with your father.
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