  And the Rain Came
From the doorway of a plank
house, a young woman came out to confront the cool morning. She was
always the first to wake up as the sun rose, scattering mist to permit
fluffy clouds which drifted slowly.
It was quiet in this hamlet because the dwellers were asleep. Even
the twittering birds had not awakened Kamalini’s husband, Velu and their
children huddled on the mat. Glancing at her little ones, she brought
back cherished hopes of giving them a better lifestyle.
It had been raining and the harsh babble of the turbid canal waters
drifted lazily. Raindrops glimmered on some brambles growing in her
pathway. Kamalini went indoors to prepare tea and crushed ginger-root to
flavour it. Velu woke up and held out his hand for that mug of
refreshing tea. Sipping it he said, “Kamalini, you know that I trudge
daily to town to obtain some work as a cobbler.
I realise that my earnings are insufficient.” Meanwhile, she was
kneading some dough to prepare breakfast. She was a cheerful woman and
friendly even with her Sinhalese neighbours. “Well, give up your mending
and making. I have a suggestion.” Velu was stirred up by his wife’s
resolution which caused her vivid eyes to dilate. “There is a track of
marshy land nearby. Let’s make use of it.”
“Ah! but that’s only rainwater and soft earth collected,” he
remarked. Kamalini insisted, “but we can grow some edible greens and
sell them.”
A feeling of joyous excitement encapsulated them. So the two of them
began to plant fronds of water spinach. Little by little tender tips
thrived into stronger stems with green blades thrusting from the wet
earth. Patches of ‘thampala’, ‘mukunuwenna’ and ‘gotukola’ grew
abundantly on the slopes.
 Fleshy spinach spiralled with their tendrils on to embedded sticks
and flourished. It was apparent that nature had smiled on their garden.
When there were ample leaves to harvest, they bought a pushcart and Velu
trundled it to town loaded with fresh bundles. He returned with quite a
remuneration having sold them all.
One afternoon, Kamalini noticed that the sun disappeared suddenly,
wrapping the hamlet in dismal darkness. Clouds gathered with intensity
and the rain fell in torrents. Within this atmosphere where black clouds
and the environment seemed to merge, wind tore at her clothes on the
sagging rope, making them caper like phantoms.
Eventually the storm spent itself, Kamalini ran to her vegetable
patch now covered with a thin sheet of placid water. As the breeze
whirled around, she stood dauntless and defiantly. A spark of happiness
kindled in her heart when she noticed that her vegetables had not been
wrecked but were looking upwards in the still air saturated with the
odour of fertile earth beneath a clear, ‘counterpane’ sky.
- Caryl Nugara
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