Short Story  

The supreme sacrifice

by Nafeela Mukthar

Malini was beautiful, had a good education and started life with all the enthusiasm of the young. Yet, she had no luck. She felt this poignantly, as she was shepherded into the prison's Black Maria van, which was to take her to the prisons for many more years to come.

With downcast eyes, she allowed herself to be examined before entering the prison gates. The forlorn picture of her mother with tears streaming down her face standing on the steps of the courthouse came floating through the haze of tears, trembling on her sorrowful eyes. She looked round before entering her cell.

Women of all ages were there in the compound, engaged in some work or other. The remand prisoners peeped through the wire mesh enclosures at the new inmate who was entering their hell hole.

It is when you are behind bars, either morally or literally, that every human being – male or female values the freedom lost, through circumstances beyond control!

“Doesn't she look a lady from some good family? She heard one prisoner query.
“She looks harmless too,” replied another.

Resignation

Malini had accepted the verdict with unusual calm and resignation. Whenever she was released from her cell, she helped the mothers who had their babies with them. Her refined ways had won the hearts of the prison staff as well. She dreaded the days when the press or any community betterment organisation visited the prison.

Yet, when service organisations brought milk food and clothes she helped in the distribution. Once the inmates were shown a Sinhala film. It was a real treat. Mothers with babies on their laps watched the film entranced. Malini too was out of her cell. It was a source of escape for some.

Assistant jailor, Sarath, watched the reactions, mirrored on Malini's transparent face. Had he not been in the habit of observing her closely for the whole of the previous year? He made up his mind to question her on his rounds the next day. He tactfully started to gain her confidence. Malini was not allergic to his winning ways. With slight hesitation, she revealed her pathetic story.

“I was married to a wealthy young man, Sir. He had everything a man could wish for. But he had a weakness as well. I had gone out to see my mother one evening, leaving my young servant alone at home. On my return, I heard screams from her room. My husband was trying to molest her. Some terrible aversion gripped me. I lifted the heavy brass bowl that was there and threw it at him. With a nerve-wracking scream he fell. The fatal blow had landed right at the back of his head, killing him instantly. Who would believe it was an act of provocation? You know the rest of the story, Sir,” she said.

Security

The pathos on her face strirred Sarath's heart. To him, she looked a woman who needed respect and security. He did not accept her as a murderess.

“You had better go, Sir, the others might start talking”. She advised him.
“Why are you so concerned about my reputation, Malini?”

Silence was her answer. A drug addict who was assigned some work come, bouncing along.

“Hello Sir, isn't Malini Akka, a superb person? She is trying to reform me” she said. Breezily she walked past them.

Malini convinced herself that they were more interested in her future than her past. Malini was keen to rehabilitate this girl who came from a broken home. She was amazed as to how drugs entered the prison. She questioned Sarath about it. His answer was short and guarded.

“It is difficult to check corruption, Malini. With all the strict vigilance, drugs slip into the hands of inmates.”

Sarath, a poor boy from a remote village, through sheer grit and perseverance, had come up to the position he was holding.

“My mother is my loving ideal, she has undergone tremendous difficulties.” He disclosed to her one day.

Love

Due to her good conduct and education Malini was allotted the task of supervising the drug addicts, mostly the youth. She worked hard to win them over. She extended love and warmth to those young men who had become pawns, in the hands of big drug dealers.

Sarath too took a keen interest. They needed sympathy, It was lunch hour. The inmates came in a queue with their plates. Sarath was supervising.

“Where is your plate, Malini?”

“Have you forgotten it's the visitor's day today? Amma brought lunch, which I want to share with Neela.”

“She is improving, Sir. She has learnt humility.”
“Aren't you becoming efficient my dear?” He smiled lovingly.

Malini blushed at the praise. “Yes, she is a motherless child. Ill-treatment by the step-mother has driven her to drown her misery in drugs, Sir.”

“Won't you call me Sarath?”
She looked at him strangely. “Let it stay that way, Sir.”

“Please Malini call me Sarath,” he pleaded.She saw with a sudden desolating clarity what her heart wanted to do. But it was impossible. She couldn't find adequate words to communicate to him that they were in two worlds apart.

“Let us be friends Sarath”. The word ‘Sarath’ slipped involuntarily.

Conflict

He gazed at her with affection mingled with disappointment. Her mind was in a conflict. Behind the drifting mists of memories, that called her a murderess, her love that had gradually blossomed pounded mercilessly within her heart.

“Your term of imprisonment may be reduced, the Commissioner is considering it.”

But she knew that society shunned humans who had entered its prison walls, may be for no fault of their own!

Sarath deserved a woman who would not be scorned at. Isn't it this form of jeering that prompted men and women to enter the prison walls again and again? She had several chats with inmates who returned to undergo the hard labour, the nauseating odour and the aimlessness that prevailed in prisons. They preferred that to the jibes of neighbours.

Weeks rolled by. “You are to be released by the end of the month, Malini.”

Emotion

He did not see the joy he expected illuminate her lovely face. A strange emotion of pain, disappointment and sacrifice went through her body. A toddler came clutched at Sarath's legs. He bent down and stroked the little one's head.

Sarath's love for children added determination to her decision. True, she had been a vivacious, impulsive individual. But the strenuous life of solitude in the prison had mellowed her. Smothering the deep pangs of love, she asked.

“Will it be possible to get a job for me, in one of the rehabilitation camps?”

Mechanically Malini looked down. She did not wish to see his face bathed in disillusion.

“Do you hate me so much?” His voice trembled.

“No I can never do that. It will not harm you to know how deeply you have been loved. You deserve a wife without a tainted past.” She said with immense self control.

“Is that final?”
“Yes Sir, she said humbly.