Agni Chakra

- (Chapter 17)

(Circles of Fire)

By Kathleen JAYAWARDANE

Translated by Ranga Chandrarathne and Edited by Indeewara Thilakarathne

I thought how wonderful it is to experience happiness and sadness at the same time. Had there been occasions where gods of prosperity climbed the mount Calvary together with Satan in search of the paradise? Is life only a depression amidst such contradictions?

I am stranded among sadness, happiness, luxury, poverty, fame and disgrace. I had never experienced this complex state of mind.

I had just received an e-mail from Prabuddha about his marriage. Last week, he craftily asked me for money citing some important needs. The money would have been spent on a party for friends on his wedding. It would have been ok for us, at least, if that Brazilian girl happened to be a university student. She was just an actress.

It was at the same moment that I was worried over Prabuddha's marriage, I learnt that my novel had been selected for an award. The award in the shape of a peacock which I won for my drama "Convention of the Non-convention" a fortnight ago was still shining before me. Amidst all the troubles, I had no time to think about my illness. Or else I might have got over it due to a series of shocking incidents.

"Oh, why has this happened to this child ….?" Shantha asked with wetted eyes gazing at the sky.

It was after a long time I saw a tear in her eyes. For years, she used to look at things indifferently. But I knew that Shantha was indirectly accusing me of not instilling moral values in Prabuddha. No one but I only knew how hapless I was in this regard. Had I discarded off values? Though I had no such specific desire, I did not approve conventional beliefs and rituals. But I did not strongly oppose Shantha getting the son to worship parents. It was true on that gloomy day, two decades ago, I could not reconcile myself to allowing the son to worship me.

It was the day on which I had an unpleasant experience associated with Sitara.

When I was alone with Sitara, I was faced with an unusual situation. After that incident which created anger and despair in me, I had spent a long time in a hotel lawn in Wadduwa. As I was hapless, I stayed late into the evening, emptying two or three bottles of beer and eating fried prawns. When I reached home, it was late in the night. I parked the vehicle in the garage and silently went to the bathroom where I spent half an hour dipping myself in the water as if to cleanse myself of sins. When I opened the door, I saw the son in pijama trousers with bare upper body running towards the room. He almost fell down entangling the doormat but was about to go down before me reciting a stanza. I quickly pulled him up.

"Son, don't worship father, don't worship! …stop this habit! "

For a moment I patted on his head looking at his sleepy eyes.

" Putha, go to bed!"

How could Shantha know that I did it with honesty?

"Can't you fly to USA and find out what had really happened…"

"What had happened had happened! What else to look for …? "

But I thought it was better to go on a foreign trip to forget about the worries. I was quickly reminded of the earlier trips that had worked as antidote to depression. On the other hand, amidst all these arrangements I was surprised how Shantha could endure all the troubles, living under this roof surrounded by pillars?

But I knew that Prabuddha had become stubborn not because I had not taught him moral lessons. Shantha had taught the son lessons on good and bad. He learnt the alphabet of morality from her. She had taught him about the six heavens and four purgatory. Is not the world shown to him by mother alien to him? He as well as I don't believe in the existence of such a world. Is it because in the modern world, what we need is a very little honesty? Doesn't society force us in a highly competitive life style with goals, to be artificial and dishonest? Isn't that society which teaches us the lesson 'The main barrier for progress is honesty'? Do not the contemporary experiences raise the need for putting up masks? Don't gradually imprison us in those marks?

We, who are confined ourselves within high walls in this cell, do not see anything beyond it. We identify the universe as a dot and that the universe expands like balloon and do we know the area beyond that balloon? Has science informed us of that? Often Shantha and I had arguments over putting Prabuddha onto the right track. I thought, let alone Shantha's moral values, it was better if Prabuddha inherited Shantha's genetic traits. But he had no trace of mother's characteristics. If so does he claim my inheritance? My inheritance..?

I could recall my mother's native village situated in the administrative area of 'Pathahevahata'. It was on a flatland bordered by a paddy field. In the kingdom of hill country, she was born into a lower cast. Mother and I visited mother's native village in the area known as 'Nagahalandayaya'. It was a soldiers' village before 1815. From Kitthampahuwa' we visited the former village from time to time. Kittampahuwa , the father's native village was situated close to Colombo.

Though by mistake, in early days, I had my mother's surname 'Balithiyanage Rani' in my birth certificate. It was because my mother lived together with father on an agreement known as 'Akaradaruwa'. Even then I knew that Akaradaruwa was a 'certificate of promise' given to the second wife when a man began to live her, without divorcing the first wife. It may be due to this, my name in the birth certificate is given as 'Balithiyanagedara Saddapala'. Even before stepping into the university, I changed ' Saddapala' into ' Saddamangala' and ' Balithiyanage' into 'Sirinivasa'. Though this change over from Ballithiyanage to Saddamangala was not a surprise for some people, if one would ask how it happened, I would answer him that I robbed it from the eight volume of the Sinhalese encyclopedia. "The Chief incumbent of Poyamalu Viharaya on the Malwatu Mahavihara Chapter of Kandy, Ven.Kobbekaduwe Rajaguru Sirinivasa thero was conferred the honorary title of Rajaguru as he taught the king Viraparakkrama Narendrasinghe" has been mentioned somewhere in a volume.

I worked hard to achieve not only material possessions but also cultural possessions and to become an owner of cultural capital. I thought my innate ability to pass examinations would help me conquest barriers in the field of education. The Government's language policy of 1956 had provided a background for it.

Opportunities for Sinhalese educated was expanded, to a certain extent because of the language policy. I felt it was my luck that doors to universities were opened for those who were not well versed in English after 1959. I know well that all the power links of society are tied to the body of knowledge. I associate and deal with most of them with great patience. I tried very hard to bury and wipe out my personal history. By luck, I entered the university as Saddamangala Siriniwasa. Although one who was jealous of me, rarely had troubled me as I reacted with extreme patience. This patience often worked to my advantage. But Prabuddha had not possessed that patience. Hadn't my genetic traits filtered into him because that patience was an artificial one? I had no such violent emotions as those of Prabuddha.

But …my father…?

Was Prabuddha grown up according to my father's traits? I heard that behaviour is a process built upon inspiration. Based on experience I firmly believe that the strongest inspiration is sexual impulse.

Suddenly I was reminded that this was not the time to repent or enjoy the past. I quickly tried to direct my thoughts at another area. I had not examined the posters and pamphlets for the march on the 'Peace Day'. I now realised that peace march would turn out to be a protest march. Parvati Muller had informed me that she could get the members of her women's organisation to participate in the march. But I could see very little office work was being done in the two rooms she rented in, in the Gimhana Asapuwa.

The tune of the song ' Kalpana Lova Malwane…' was played as the ringing tone of my mobile.

"I will definitely come", I confirmed my participation, in response to the reminder, in the live discussion on a television channel on 'Bandaranaike Commemoration Day '. The producer of the programme said that the topic was 'Fifty Sixth's Revolution'. He was asking me to speak on "Cultural renaissance of 1956'.

I agreed happily. It reminded me of the threadbare ideas often aired on 'Maname' and the first Sinhalese artistic film 'Rekawa' . But I know that all these creations were born coincidently in parallel with 1956's revolution and not as by products of it. Prof. Sarachchandra or Lester James Peries commenced their work long before 1956 without knowing of such an impending social transformation.

Shantha brought me a hot steaming cup of coffee as if intuitively knowing my physical and mental agony. After a long time, we were thinking and repenting on the same thing.

"Someone called you …", Shantha whispered.

"Who called me..? "

"He didn't tell the name. It seems that he is not a university student."

A mild shock ran through my heart.

"He must be a rowdy …speaks panting!"

I tried to be as normal as possible. I thought such darkness like that after a moon eclipse spreading around us. In a moon eclipse, sun, moon and the earth are on the same line. People say that as 'The planet Rahu grips the moon'. Shantha's and my objective was to ensure a bright future for Probuddha. But what has happened?

The shadows of the trees cast on the high walls of the Gimhana Asapuwa, are drawing mysterious paintings. It became a ghostly dance on the balcony. Cellular phone and fixed line were ringing simultaneously. I was confused. If telephone numbers could be changed, most of the problems would be solved by certain percentage. But could such temporary measures solve problems?

I was filled with a shameful doubt. I looked at the Gimhana Asapuwa in a pensive mood. As I put on the hood lights, what became clear to me was that rainbow coloured curtains of the Gimhana Asapuwa were dust stained. Those who came for drama practices had left black marks on the wall. "Dogs…!" I murmured to myself. Those who came for drama practice and to conduct seminars had no discipline.

"Discipline…? "

"Of which discipline I had educated them? "

Footnote

Putha- son in Sinhala