Short Story

A little misunderstanding

by Rupa Wijesinghe

Karalina loved the peace and tranquillity of the village. The river flowing gently past the cattle shed, the unpolluted cool breeze, the greenery around, unhampered with artificial beauty, it was here she had lived ever since she married Diyonis.

The land, handed down by his father, was well maintained and cultivated with her assistance. Rathi the cow, was tenderly cared for, and she was their main source of income. Cutting and gathering grass for her was a daily routine.

Karalina and Diyonis were a happy couple. They lived peacefully with everyone in the village, but the one person they disliked was Karthelis who roamed the villages looking for ill-fed cattle that lived on the sparse vegetation, to be taken to the town for slaughter.

Untimely death

Diyonis's untimely death, the cause of which, the village doctor diagnosed as tetanus, was a great blow to Karalina. Her grief knew no bounds, but she knew she had to carry on.

Karalina and Diyonis, with the help of the villagers, had built a small house with a thatched roof, replacing the cadjans with tiles, when their income increased. It was neat and tidy.

It was here that their son Siripala, and daughter Karuna grew up, nourished with Karalina even after his marriage to a successful farmer in the adjoining village. She would visit Karuna at least thrice a year, never forgetting the Sinhala New Year, carrying boxes of sweetmeats for which she would collect money months ahead.

Siripala carried on the work done by his father during his life time.

He milked the cow, collected the milk in a bucket, put it in bottles, and took them to the nearby boutiques and to the villages, for sale. This brought him a good income, as with all the caring, Rathi was rich in milk.

Dexterous

The cattle shed was kept clean, and the cow-dung smothered and dried- Karalina helped him just as she had helped Diyonis. She was still strong and dexterous.

She had planted rows and rows of vegetables - luscious brinjals, tomatoes and chillies, all well manured.

She loved to see the long-beans climbing up the trellis she had made with the help of her grandson Kusal. She would cut the Gotukola, bundle them, pluck the vegetables when they ware yet fresh and not too mature, put them all in a big basket which she herself had woven and trek to the village fair every Saturday.

Villagers looked forward to buying her vegetables, specially the freshly dug manioc and the clean 'greens'. The 'Hambiliya' at her waist, was always full of money. Kusal loved to go with her as she would buy him an ice lollipop which he would quickly lick up, to get a second one of a different colour. Karalina hated to idle. She would want to do something useful all the time.

Karalina was indispensable in the smooth running of the house, but at times she felt a pain in her legs, and felt she could not get about as briskly as before. The village doctor had given her some oil in a little bottle which gave her relief when she rubbed it.

Latha, her daughter-in-law, was like her own daughter, or even better, she thought, as it is she who saw to her needs. They were a happy family.

There was nothing to grumble about, though at times she felt sad she could not bring them as much of an income as before, as she was slow and could not workhard.

Kite

Sitting on the edge of her bed, rubbing her legs down with the oil, just before her afternoon nap, she was happy to see her son, daughter-in-law, and grandson, seated on a makeshift bench in the back garden talking and through her window she could see Kusal seated on his mother's lap, making a kite.

Suddenly she heard her son saying, "She's weak and will not be of much use to us soon.

Her usefulness is ebbing. But we must look after her, as she has no other place to go to." Interrupting him, little Kusal piped in - "Sin, Appachchi. I love her. Don't let her go."

Her head reeled. The words "her usefulness is ebbing", kept ringing in her ears. Fragments of thoughts rushed into her mind.

She saw herself drawing water from the well, cutting and gathering grass to feed Rathi treking to the village fair and most of all, her days with Diyonis. She couldn't hold back her tears.

Lifting the edge of her cloth, she pressed it against her mouth to stifle her sobs.

Kusal came running into her room to show his kite. "Why Achchi, why are you crying?"

"I feel I'm useless now. Only you Putha said, 'Sin', I love her."

"Achchi, we were talking about Raththi and not about you."