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| Sunday, 16 January 2005 |
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Telling Tales The dawn of peace The time was 9.20 p.m. when the train arrived at the station. The platform as usual was overcrowded. My son, Kumar quite unaware of the commotion slept peacefully on my shoulder. In the surging crowd we fought our way into one of the compartments which had all but two seats occupied. Visualising that both the occupants had gone to the buffet, we decided to sit and relax in their seats until their return. It was a cold night. We were just returning to our station after the ethnic conflict, having enjoyed a long and extended holiday. My mind was restless and my heart began to beat fast in apprehension of danger. We were travelling during a period of uncertainty. 'It was the best of times; it was the worst of times...' as described by Charles Dickens in his famous novel 'The Tale of Two Cities'. While surveying the compartment my thought once again flashed back to Dicken's 'Dover Mail', where the passengers had embarked on a risky journey, suspicious of each other. With Kumar on her lap Laxumy who sat next to me was in a contemplative mood. I felt dizzy and was about to fall asleep when a strange voice in rather authoritative tone snarled at me in Sinhala. "Nagitapang" (Get up) I was on my feet instantly and gestured my wife to follow suit. She was about to lift Kumar when another voice, but in a polite manner spoke in English, "Let her sit". I glanced at both of them. The one who seemed rude sat in his seat and stared at us; while the other stood cross-legged leaning against the edge of a seat puffing a cigarette. "May vadivenda Nimal" (Take your seat, Nimal) said the one seated. "She's a lady, let her sit", Nimal cautioned him. "Vaadivenda", he repeated. "No...", Nimal paused for a while and continued, "She is a mother with child in her arm" "Vaadivenda", he shot back. "Don't be silly Tilak, let her sit," Nimal fired back. Sensing defeat Tilak withdrew from the argument, leaned back and fell asleep. I yearned to express my gratitude to Nimal, but decided not for fear of antagonizing Tilak; instead I gave a warm smile in reciprocation. Halt The train came to a shrieking halt at the next station. A few passengers got off and a batch of University students also returning after the long vacation got in. Making use of the opportunity I managed to get a corner seat. The students were in a jolly mood; seeming quite unaware of the dark days the country had gone through. "Machan Bala! Here's a seat for you," shouted Silva. "Come! Come! Machan Lalith, I've a corner", said Kamal. "Machan Nada! Where's Rahim", Sarath inquired. My heart leapt with joy and relief each time I heard the word "Machan", a mesmerising word in Tamil, occupying a pride of place in Sri Lankan English and which affectionately binds people from all communities. As time passed the fun and frolic that rocked the compartment died out. I was feeling drowsy as the train sped through the darkness, tossing and jerking me. "Good morning, Sir". The chorus like greeting sounded in my ears. I opened my eyes and saw a neatly clad stranger being held in high esteem by the students. With much reverence he was led to a seat, gladly offered by one of the students just opposite to where I sat. A bearded fair gentleman in his mid-thirties, shortmade and carrying a brief case. Silva, the most popular and glamorous among the boys helped the gentleman place his brief case in the luggage rack above. As the gentleman sat he pulled off his shoes and leaned back to read a book. Once again I closed my eyes to relax for a while. The exemplary manner in which the boys behaved themselves came to my mind. I really felt proud of them for being so loyal to their Guru. These young boys must be from good homes and groomed by dedicated teachers. Such students are hard to find in today's society which is to a certain extent demoralised I presumed. Attention It was past mid-night when he folded the book and accidentally directed his attention towards me. At first it was a casual glance. But later he began to peer at me, and wrinkle his brow. Little by little I noticed a feeling of joy spreading all over his face. Leaning towards me he exclaimed softly, "Sir"! I was taken aback when he addressed me so. His face was beaming with joy. He slowly whispered, "Sir, How are you?" I sensed at once that he must be one of my former students. But I couldn't place him immediately. "You are..." "Chandran Sir, perhaps my moustache and beard seem to hide my identity", he explained. "Chandran"! "Yes Chandran, your student at Central College to whom you gave life". Faint reflections of an innocent boy with a poverty stricken face surfaced in my memory. "Yes... I can place you", said I. "I had to abandon my studies Sir, for want of financial support, and one day you spotted me in a........." My thoughts rolled back to fifteen years. For fifteen long years past events had faded into obscurity with the passage of time. On close scrutiny Chandran's visage unfurled the innocent looking boy in whose class I taught English. Snack It was customary for me to have a snack at Ramakrishna Cafe on Fridays. It was on one such occasion, I patronised the cafe. Being a vegetarian cafe, on a Friday it was, crowded. The waiter, a little boy semi-clad in hotel uniform came from behind and stood. He was stunned on seeing me. His look of embarrassment mixed with a sense of shame made my heart sink. "What's all this about", I broke the silence. "You were a brilliant student in class and an all-rounder. What brought you here when a bright future awaits you?" "Sir... My family is poor, and there's no one to support me in my education. I've no other alternative but to..." Tears filled his eyes as he swallowed his words. I was terribly touched at his plight and was determined to help him. Being a peak hour in the cafe, I felt it improper to delay him. Cutting short the conversation I persuaded him to see me at school the following Monday, and ordered a snack. It was a bright Monday morning, when Chandran stepped out of the Principal's office and walked towards me. Approaching me he said. "Thank you very much Sir". Highly thrilled, he showed me the letter of assistance given to him. Free accommodation in the hostel, free meals, free books and other stationery items, facilities fees and tuition fees exempted were some of them. I patted Chandran on his back and said "Chandran, my son, this is a rare opportunity given to you. My only wish is that you should work hard and become an eminent personality one day". I was really pleased to note that my dream had come true. "Chandran you have done it. Congratulations", said I, warmly clasping his hands. "Thank you Sir", replied Chandran joyfully. I lost track of Chandran a few months after he resumed his schooling. The very same year I went on transfer to the hill country. It thrilled my heart to think of the little brat at Ramarkrishna Cafe transforming into an eminent professor. It was purely a coincidence that brought us together in the cafe, and it was my awareness of his potentialities that changed his life. But are all those underprivileged cases spotlighted and placed on a sound footing? Thousands of promising youth have been deprived of education and have gone astray. I lamented over their fate as did Thomas Gray in his "Elegy written in a country Churchyard", 'Chill penury repress'd their noble rage And froze the genial current of the soil...' After chatting for a while both of us fell asleep. It was 4.00 am when I woke. Almost all the passengers were up and everyone seem to smile at me. It struck me at once that it was Chandran who had told them about me. I sat on my seat to concentrate on my normal routine of laying out the program for the day. As I opened my diary a soft voice was heard from behind. I turned around to see Tilak standing close to me. Bending low he said. "Forgive me Sir; I had been very rude to you Sir, last night". "Oh no... not at all", said I clasping his hand. Very much relieved he turned back and walked towards Nimal, who had all the while been smiling at us, puffing a cigarette. Half an hour more and the train was on its last lap. Everyone was on their feet getting ready. There was absolute peace and contentment in their countenance. It was a memorable journey, a symbolic reminder of peaceful co-existence. I raised the shutter and looked out. The weather was calm and cool. The sky was brightening in the horizon, another symbolic reminder, of the dawn of a peaceful and bright Sri Lanka. |
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