The Journey - A Short Story

by Harnam Shunkumar

  ****

  The old man with grey hair wore a formal suit and stood regal and tall amidst the cheering crowds. The atmosphere was electrifying. Tears clouded Shami’s eyes as he watched Nelson Mandela take those first steps out of prison. Priya sobbed unapologetically. Watching this historical moment live on television was a fulfillment of an impossible dream.

  To an entire nation of disenfranchised citizens, Mandela’s voice played out an entrancing melody. His opening words were, “Friends, comrades and fellow South Africans. I greet you all in the name of peace, democracy and freedom for all.” Shami felt a euphoric thrill which caused the hair on his arms to stand on ends. The cheering throng of supporters supplemented this magic. On television, the enthusiastic crowd became attentive as the world’s most famous political prisoner continued speaking, “I stand here before you not as a prophet but as a humble servant of you, the people. Your tireless and heroic sacrifices have made it possible for me to be here today. I therefore place the remaining years of my life in your hands. On this day of my release, I extend my sincere and warmest gratitude to the millions of my compatriots and those in every corner of the globe who have campaigned tirelessly for my release.”

  Nelson Mandela gave a tribute to the multitudes that were involved in the liberation struggle. He acknowledged those heroes who’d made the ultimate sacrifice. Homage was given to members of the liberation movement, workers’ unions, students’ unions, religious movements, and many other entities that contributed towards the struggle. He spoke about democracy and the political and economic turmoil of the country. Nelson Mandela reiterated that much needed doing to normalize the situation in South Africa. He made it clear, that the armed struggle will continue, until a climate conducive to a negotiated settlement was achieved.

  This sounded the message to all ranks within the liberation movement that there was still extensive work that needed doing. The enemy was out there ready and waiting to sabotage the reconciliation process.

  VIII

  Priya tactfully watched her eldest son as he ate his supper in the spacious dining room of their huge home. He’d joined the real estate industry a number of years now, and purchased this home for the family two years ago. Shami had earlier leased a quaint cottage for the family a few years back. He always ensured that his family lived a comfortable life. He was overly protective of the members of his family. She couldn’t blame him bearing in mind what they’d endured a good few years ago.

  He was a striking image of her husband. But that was where it ended. Beyond the striking resemblance, Shami was a more determined and shrewd individual, unlike his father who had been weak when it came to finances. Mahen was accustomed to people brushing him off, whereas their son had this powerful magnetic personality that drew people to him. Where Mahen allowed politics to distract him with a passion; Shami though embracing his father’s political beliefs, allowed politics to discipline rather than distract him. Her appraisal of her son made Priya proud of his triumphs.

  The more she looked at her son, the more the awareness played itself out in her mind. In his late twenties, age-wise her son was ready for marriage. His business was flourishing, and he was financially well off.

  Shami interrupted her thoughts, “What’s with that smile Ma?” he asked with a fond look.

  “Nothing, just thinking,” she responded with a beam. She loved the way her son looked at her. She’d seen some mothers crying out for attention from their children.

  “You can’t be ‘just thinking’ with such a big smile on your face,” he rejoined good- naturedly. “Come on… out with it, Ma!”

  “Well,” she answered hesitantly. “I was thinking of asking some of the elders in the family to look around for a girl for you to marry.”

  He paused in stunned silence, and burst out in laughter. The sound of laugher coming from the usually steel-faced Shami was like music to her ears. It drew his younger sister downstairs with an enquiring expression directed at her mother.

  “So you want to find me a girl to get married?” he enquired in a humorous tone with raised eyebrows.

  “What’s wrong with Ma finding you a girl brother dearest, it’s about time you brought home a sister-in-law for us,” his sister Lisha spoke up teasingly on behalf of their mother. “Unless you’ve already got one for us, and you’re not telling,” she added slyly.

  Their mother jumped at the unexpected support from Lisha, and hurriedly commented, “Yes Shami, if you’ve got someone that you’re already seeing, bring her home and introduce her to us.”

  Shami was indeed seeing a stunning girl, Kareena Desai, a paralegal from one of the attorneys’ offices. They had been seeing each other for almost two months now, and he’d intended to introduce her to his family, and arrange a meeting between his mother and Kareena’s parents. He was conscious of the fact that Kareena’s father was a prominent attorney, similarly involved in the liberation movement. Her father knew of him, both as a successful businessman as well as an influential political activist. So it might not be as difficult to approach her father as his mindset led him to believe. “The man of steel is afraid of a girl’s father,” he mused.

  His response made his mother beam with happiness, “Yes Ma, I have met someone. Her name’s Kareena. We’re serious about each other, but we’re taking things one step at a time. She works for an attorney whom I deal with.” He had a shy look about him.

  Priya observed Shami’s shyness and realized that she hadn’t seen him look this shy since he was a little boy. She was suddenly mindful that he’d lost much of his childhood all those years back. He’d had to constantly fend for himself and his family. The years had soared by so rapidly that she’d failed to perceive that her son was now a grown man; with a girlfriend. All being well, this girl could be the one to help make his life complete. She’d no reason to mistrust Shami’s judgment; he’d not given her any reason to do so. “Hopefully,” she thought expectantly, “I’ll soon be enjoying the patter of little feet running through the household…”

  For Priya, the journey had been filled with adversities every step of the way. She still looked stunning though, except that the years had added one or two wrinkles and few streaks of grey. Shami’s resourcefulness had somewhat filled the financial void; but there’d been another void in her life.

  She’d felt tormented due to a lack of companionship. When Mahen was alive, she’d not only had someone to talk to, but she was able to fulfil her carnal needs too. She had many admirers from within the liberation movement. She’d tried her best to resist the enticement, but a strong will is often not enough, when your body craves more than just someone to talk to. She’d had some brief and discreet encounters with a few men over the years. But each dalliance was short-lived. There was this guy once, who’d fallen head over heels in love with her, but she had quickly ended that relationship. The years were rapid and her involvement within the anti-apartheid struggle had intensified. She could not afford the time for a steadfast relationship; and besides her heart still belonged to Mahen. She’d suffered moments of fleeting guilt occasionally, but she was sure that Mahen would‘ve understood.

  Now, after all these long years later, freedom was close. They could feel it in the air. She felt that her contribution and sacrifices were beginning to bear fruit. Mandela and his contemporaries were in negotiations with the apartheid regime. The Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging attempted their dirty handed tricks again when they stormed the negotiations in an armored vehicle. They momentarily took over the negotiations chamber, until order was forcefully restored.

  A senior member of the anti-apartheid movement had been assassinated at his home a few months earlier. This had brought the country to the brink of civil war. Nelson Mandela’s handling of the situation showed everyone, black and white, that he stood uncompromisingly for unity irrespective of the hurdles that needed to be overcome.

  Priya’s opinion of Mandela remained the same
even now, three years after his release from prison. Some people longed for the mythical Mandela, hero of a vast array of tales, fictional or not. They seemed disillusioned with the flesh and blood Mandela who came out of prison. It seemed that they wanted a raging warrior. As Shami had wisely pointed out, the negotiations were taking place against a backdrop of violence. This was a challenge of mammoth proportions for someone walking out of prison and straight into the negotiation chambers. It was no easy feat.

  Some groups believed that there was nothing to negotiate about. The people should just take what’s theirs. She agreed with Shami when he said that such people wore blinkers. Peace and unity was only possible by a negotiated settlement. Anything else would mean ongoing violence that could break out into a full scale war. This’s what Nelson Mandela was hoping to avoid. A civil war was neither in the interest of the country nor its people. The existing infrastructures needed to be preserved, so that every citizen whether black or white was able to enjoy the benefits of such infrastructures. War would destroy all this and would take the country backwards by many years. Priya understood Mandela’s rationale and knew that he was on the right track.

  She was glad that Shami’s assessment of Mandela was in tune with her own thinking. He’d stood his ground with many members of the youth brigade who felt that Mandela’s pace was too slow for their liking.

  These were the militant minded few who also felt that Shami had served his usefulness. But Ngobese’s resolve was firm. Shami had spent most of his lifetime serving the anti-apartheid movement. He’d grown up in the movement. Very few in the brigade could claim such accolades. Ngobese openly challenged these radicals to list the feats they’d accomplished in the name of freedom. This silenced them. Few amongst them in the youth brigade could lay claim to the kind of feats that Shami had accomplished.

  Being so close to freedom now, drew out the opportunists. The history of the struggle differentiated between the genuine activists and the opportunistic politicians. Shami, however, was a creature of the struggle. The struggle had shaped him and claimed its ownership of his life. Like his aunt and mother; and like his father before him. It was in his blood. Priya knew that once true freedom had been attained, Shami would retire from political activism. A career in politics did not appeal to him. The career politicians had already shown their faces. That would be a different struggle for another generation to confront in the later years to come. This battle was about to be won. And he’d contributed towards it.

  IX

  The temperament of the crowd was high as they sang soulful songs of the freedom struggle. This day was a historical day, because after a series of negotiations, each and every citizen in the country was finally able to cast their votes at the polls. For the vast majority this was the first time in their lives that they were able to exercise this fundamental human right.

  Shami observed the old black man dressed in a tattered coat and hat patiently following along the slow moving queue. The man smiled at him, displaying broken teeth. He observed a smaller queue which the frail and disabled voters eagerly followed. The smiles on the faces of the people gave Shami a sense of bliss. It was a euphoric moment for the people of the land. This long-awaited day of freedom was an accumulation of the sweat, blood, tears and long years of sacrifice made by the multitudes of comrades.

  Kareena and Priya followed the long snaking line. They were now nearing the entrance of the voting hall. They chatted and laughed with their fellow voters in the queue. Shami was right behind them together with his younger brother. “Look at them,” he whined to Krish. “It’s as if we don’t exist.”

  Kareena looked back coyly at Shami, but spoke teasingly to Krish, “Krish, please tell that brother of yours that if he learnt to smile just a little bit, then he too would make friends in the queue instead of moaning that we’re ignoring him.”

  Shami responded in a flirtatious tone, “Krish please inform your dear sister-in-law, that if she continues ignoring her husband, then she shouldn’t complain when he does make new friends in the queue.” Krish looked from one to the other, and simply flung his hands exaggeratedly in the air, in a show of mock frustration.

  A huge black lady laughed at such a display of tender love between the young couple. She commented to Priya in a booming voice, “Sister, I see we have a honeymoon couple in our midst.” She gazed admiringly at the young couple.

  Priya looked fondly at her son and daughter-in-law. “Yes, these two are always teasing each other. But at least she makes this one smile”, she replied, nodding her head in the direction of Shami. “You should have seen him before, all rushing around; busy with this and that and no time to even smile!”

  They continued with their chatter and teasing. Finally it was time and Shami felt a moment of anxiety. This was it, history in the making. It was real. He was going to cast his vote; and it moistened his eyes. He glanced discreetly at his mother. She was all eager and full of smiles; cracking jokes with the electoral officers as they marked her thumb with black ink. He went into the cubicle with his ballot paper that was handed to him by the electoral officer. He felt giddy with excitement as he placed his cross next to the picture of Nelson Mandela.

  Mother and son walked out of the voting station with the past echoing through their minds. “Who did you vote for?” Priya asked Shami softly.

  “Do you really have to ask?” he responded in a soft but good-humored manner. “I obviously voted for the other guy! And you?”

  She punched him lightly and responded to his good humor, “Do you really have to ask? Well, my vote is my secret!” They laughed out aloud while Kareena gave Krish a puzzled look that said, “What’s up with these two? Are they going loony?”

  The entire family, together with the rest of the country, watched Nelson Mandela’s inauguration ceremony on television as he was sworn in as the first democratically elected President of the Republic of South Africa.

  There was an air of festivity and Priya and the girls had prepared a huge lunch for the family. President Nelson Mandela’s inaugural speech marked the end of the journey for both Priya and Shami. Shami had already stepped down from the youth brigade. There was now too much politics and infighting for his liking. Priya had gradually slowed down her activities within the movement to the point where she was no longer active.

  As they sat down to their meals, Priya glanced fondly around the table. Mahen’s sister, Layla, had lost her husband a few years earlier. The years had taken its toll on her. She looked frail seated at the table. Shami’s wife fussed over him and tried dishing him an extra serving. He made his usual fuss. Her two daughters spoke animatedly to each other while her second son sneakily helped himself to an extra helping of roasted lamb. Shami looked up and they caught each other’s eye. He held her stare and smiled at his mother. For Priya, that smile communicated a million words.

  They had no regrets. They’d done what needed to be done; for their country, for their family, for themselves. The journey had been fraught with seemingly endless danger. But they’d survived. The struggle for the right of Africans to rule Africa had been won.

  The End...

  About the Author

  Harnam Shunkumar is a professional real estate practitioner. He presently lives with his wife Serra in a suburb near Durban in South Africa. This short novel, “The Journey - A Short Story”, is his first published creative work as an author. He is working on completing his next work; a full length novel entitled “White Collar Charm”. When he’s not writing or involved in his real estate practice, Harnam enjoys reading creative works by other authors, public speaking, cooking and travelling down the KwaZulu/Natal south coast.

  Forthcoming releases

  WHITE COLLAR CHARM

  By Harnam Shunkumar

  “A heart-stopping full length novel packed with intrigue and suspense. Larry White, a struggling real estate agent is unwittingly ensnared in a web of money launde
ring and corporate deceit orchestrated by the underworld. With finances flowing abundantly from all sorts of off-shore accounts into his newly established real estate agency, he needs to find out exactly what he’s up against. He’s a worried man as fingers are pointed at him. Everything rides on him knowing who his true allies are and how he can identify the hidden traitors. As he embarks on his exploration for the truth, dark secrets emerge - blurry images of betrayal, drugs, prostitution, money laundering and links to the mob”.

  CREATOR

  By Harnam Shunkumar

  “This fictional work is a nonconformist viewpoint of the creation of our world and its creatures. It questions all which we have assumed to be the ultimate truth over the centuries. This novel reveals harsh realities which encourages mankind to unite and live together as brethren. Hamael, a guardian angel, narrates the story of our world’s creation to Martha and cautions her that she may find his discourse blasphemous. The story takes you through a chilling narration which makes the reader pause and marvel at our universe and all of its creation. According to Hamael, the narration essentially questions the collective beliefs of mankind, irrespective whether you’re Christian or Jew, Muslim or Hindu, Buddhist or any other religion of our world. This fictional story is not for the fainthearted or religion-sensitive reader.”