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Sunday, 16 March 2014

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Marriage Proposals
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Government Gazette

 Short story

The confidence trickster

"Why don't you switch off the light and go to bed. It's nearly midnight, and you've got to go to work tomorrow." That was Biso, Kusuma's mother. Kusuma was seated at the sewing machine, turning the handle faster and faster, with the white poplin laid under the needle.

She had to complete sewing 15 pillowcases to be offered to the Bhikkhu of the temple by day after tomorrow, for an alms-giving. The order was given by Gunapala Mudalali, a rich businessman of the area, for which she was reasonably paid.

Kusuma undertook sewing orders and she had quite a few, as she was the only one who had a decent sewing machine in the village and her house had electricity. It also brought her a fair income apart form her salary as an attendant at the Base Hospital in the rural village she lived. The village - Kalagamwatte - in the Walapane district, had been given electricity very recently and that helped her to sew till late in the night.

Kusuma was in her mid-thirties, fair and plump, not very tall. Her slightly protruding teeth, did not make her look attractive. Yet, she was kind, and of a very pleasant and friendly disposition. She felt, she was a cut above the other girls in the village, as she had a well built house, now with electricity, kept neatly, and was holding a government job, whereas the other girls were either working in the fields, or gone to the 'big city', as domestic aids, or workers in garment factories.

Vacation

However, when they came for vacations, Kusuma felt a pang of jealousy deep within her, to see them in fashionable clothes and high heeled shoes, carrying stylish bags strung on their shoulders.

Anyway, she possessed, more important things that they did not have. She had a well-constructed house, with an enclosed garden. Her father had died when she was 12 years old. He was a well-known carpenter, and her house had even pantry cupboards, designed by him.

She had an almirah, a solid one, made of jak, where her clothes were kept. None of her friends in the village, had even a small cupboard, their belongings being stacked in either cardboard boxes or suitcases. She also had a steady job. Above all, she had gold jewellery, made of solid gold, not like the glittering imitation once that her friends wore.

Jewellery

Kusuma had a craving for gold jewellery, from her school days. The pair of gold earrings she had was what her father gave her when she attained age. She was thrifty, collecting money in tills and not spending unnecessarily. Her mother Biso, would sell the garden produce, and from the money she got spend on food and on her only brother's needs. With a major part of Kusuma's earnings she had already bought a chain, three bangles and a big pair of showy ear studs, all in gold, which were her pride. Her desire now was to purchase a bracelet with an intricate design like the one displayed at "Sumudu Jewellers", in the town.

"Why isn't she getting married?" was the constant question people asked Biso, and also her. "The time must come. I've consulted an astrologer too," replies Biso. "The time has already come and gone. How much longer is she going to wait," asked Ransina, her closest neighbour. Kusuma knew that others of her village and of her age, were all married, having children, some of them school going. She was choosy, not wanting to get married to an 'ordinary man', but to someone of a higher status, a cut above those in her village, not a labourer nor a farmer.

"Why don't you put a matrimonial advertisement in the Sunday papers? Loku Missi's daughter had found a good partner that way. Remember that wedding?" That was Rani's suggestion. She was a colleague, working in the same hospital, happily married, though having met a man of her own choice.

Kusuma wrote an advertisement - "32 years, employed in Government Service, good looking, 5 feet 1 inch, (though she was 34 years), owning a house and property, and jewellery. She wanted a partner with a stable job, smart, and reasonably educated.

Matrimonial column

Next week she bought the Sunday paper, and to her surprise, her advertisement was the first one in the matrimonial column, followed by so many other advertisements. She was overjoyed. The village astrologer had told her mother she would definitely get married before the year was out.

Two weeks later, the postman brought her a thick parcel, neatly tied with a white twine. Her name and address legibly written on a piece of paper, was securely pasted on it. She knew what it was, and excitedly opened the package. There were 12 responses to her advertisement. Wasn't she thrilled? She marked them one, two, three and so on, in order of preference, after scrutinising each one carefully.

She decided to respond to number one first, as he had given a mobile number, and that would expedite matters. Though there was no address given, he had stated he was from Wattegama which was close to Kandy. He was a public servant with a stable job, drawing a very good salary, 39 years, 5 feet 5 inches tall, and owning valuable property. He had said that his father, a businessman, had died three years ago, and he has one sister and a brother, the sister a teacher, married to a postmaster, and only brother, a businessman.

His mother lived with him. He had signed the letter as Dharmasiri. He had wanted her to contact him on the mobile number given, if she felt the details given matched her expectations. So, they got talking, and he fixed on a date to meet her, at the railway station, before visiting her at her home.

Handsome man

It was a Friday, and that was convenient for both, as they could get leave. He told her he would be clad in a blue and black checked shirt, blue denims, and a pair of dark glasses, and will be carrying a brief case. Kusuma had not decided on what she was going to wear, so she told him she would ring him shortly. What a handsome man he must be, she mused, a smart guy, far above those in her village.

"None of my friends will have a partner like him. I must look my best," she thought. So, she phoned him - "I'll be wearing a yellow and black printed skirt, with a cream coloured blouse, and will be carrying a black bag with a large gold buckle, slung on my shoulder." She had a nice cream silk embroidered blouses, which she had got fairly cheap at a sale in town, and which everyone admired. It was an imported one, with the tag, "made in China."

She was near the railway station well before time. She went into the waiting room, powered her face, combed the top section of her hair which she had put up, held by a hair slide glistening with beads. She did not forget to put some perfume which a patient had given her. There were so many people at the station, coming and going.

She looked this way and that, adjusting the bow at her waist. Suddenly, she saw a tall guy, tallying with the same description walking up to her. "Are you Kusuma from Walapane?" "Yes", she said nervously. To her, he was handsome, and tall, though dark. "Tall, dark and handsome," she mused. He removed his dark glasses, and looked straight in her face.

She smiled, wondering all the while whether he would like her. He took her to a restaurant close by. They sat at a table. He ordered short-eats. He spoke of the many proposals he had, and why he refused them, the main reason being his desire to have a fair wife, with a government job. Her happiness knew so bounds. Well, she had those requisites, and he's sure to agree.

Thrilled

He spoke about his family, discreetly enquiring about her family too, specially about her brother, and whether he was a vicious type. She answered in the negative, speaking of his genuine, honest ways. "What will we have to drink. Tea, or a soft drink."

To pay the bill, he pulled out a wad of notes from his wallet which made her think he was really wealthy. He also had a thick chain round his neck, and what was hers, compared to his. As though reading her thoughts, he said. "I will give this to you when we next meet.

When shall we make it, say, day after tomorrow. It's a Sunday." She readily agreed. They did not feel the time passing. He spoke endearingly, and held her hand tight, just before they parted. She smiled coyly, and was thrilled beyond words.

They met again as planned. Kusuma wore a Kandyan saree this time, and was decked in all her jewellery. Her bangles she put in her handbag, and slipped them on only at the railway station. There he was, waiting for her, looking smarter, in a black striped shirt and black trousers. Will his parents approve? She was hopeful.

This time he took her to a park with shady trees and benches underneath. He bought a few snacks and two bottles of cool drinks from the canteen around the corner, and they sat on a bench under the shade of a big tree. He was very concerned about her, wiped the seat of the bench with his handkerchief, and started talking more on personal matters. He confessed, it was love at first sight, and wished to know what her feelings were. She was jubilant. The gods had answered her prayers.

She said it was the same with her. He opened his briefcase, took out a red velvet box which contained a glittering, thick intricately designed bangle, a thousand times better than hers, and put it on her hand. She couldn't believe her eyes. It was a little too big, and slipped over the three bangles she had worn. "Oh! I should have bought a smaller size. I didn't realise your wrist was that small," said he, stroking her hand.

"What a shame. I wanted to give you a surprise. I'll take one of these, for the correct size, but all three must be of a similar design." "You can have them," she said. Very reluctantly, he put them in his brief-case, while pulling out a photograph.

He said it was his sister, taken before her marriage, well dressed, her hands full of broad bangles, a necklace with a large pendant attached, and a 'hawadiya' round her waist. "My mother and sister are very keen on seeing a photograph of you, before they visit you in your home." I'll get one of yours when we meet."

Necklace

Kusuma's mind was disturbed, as she did not have a necklace like his sister's. She told him so, and he asked her not to worry, as it was her features and saree, that mattered. "Anyway since you seem to be so worried, I'll get a pendant like nangi's fixed on to your chain."

She was relieved and extremely happy. What a kind and considerate man he was, she thought. "You can have my chain till then," he said, unscrewing it and placing it in her hand. "Your neck will be bare."

"But, how can I wear this thick chain in the bus?" He laughed, made a joke of it, and asked her to put it into her handbag if she feared her neck would be cut! She giggled like a school girl.

It was decided that they meet two days later at the studio just round the corner, as he wanted a photograph of her to be taken. He showed her the place, and said he would make an appointment for 2 p.m. She should be on time, and be well-dressed in a Kandyan saree like his sister. He'll be waiting for her under the board - "Wasana Studio", which was just by the road.

Kusuma was getting ready from morning. She told her mother she was going for a friend's engagement ceremony. "You must find someone for yourself soon. Everyone in the village is asking me why you aren't getting married, and I feel so embarrassed," she said. "Don't worry Amman,. Things will work out soon."

Well-dressed, she walked up the footpath accompanied by her brother Palitha. She told him, and a few whom she met, that she was attending a function. She saw Lucy Hamy at the window, and in a jiffy she came running out, tightening her cloth at the waist, exclaiming, "You look so pretty today." She thought to herself, "Dharmasiri too is sure to think the same." She walked briskly, not waiting to miss the bus. "Akka, you have forgotten to wear your bangles and chain," said Palitha, looking at her admiringly. She explained that they were in her handbag as it was not safe wearing gold jewellery when travelling.

Destination

The bus arrived sooner than she expected and having settled down in a corner seat, she called him on her mobile. He too was on his way, counting the minutes to be with her again. The wind was playing on her face, so she closed the shutter of the window as it may disarrange her hair style. Soon she was at the Railway Station well ahead of time. She smoothened her hair with her palms, not for getting her powder and perfume. She gave him another call. Yes, he was on his way, nearing his destination. She walked slowly towards the studio.

Children from a school nearby were leaving for home. There was a crowd, and a lot of traffic. She peered above the heads of the people, standing patiently, outside the studio. It was hot. She was perspiring. Ah! There he comes, once again wearing dark glasses. She quickly adjusted the brooch pinned onto her saree, and wiped away the sweat with her new handkerchief.

No, it was not him, someone else, in dark glasses. She was disappointed. It was 3 p.m. What was the delay? Numerous thoughts flashed across her mind. Would he have met with an accident? Or would he have been waylaid by someone who knew he was carrying gold jewellery?

She went into the studio. "Miss, can I help you?" asked an employee. She explained. "There is no such appointment. "What's his name?" "Dharmasiri, full name - Loku Mudiyanselage Dharmasiri."

"Miss, now it's 3.45 p.m. We are closing early today, as there is a religious ceremony in the manager's house. What's the guarantee he'll come. You can telephone him."

"I did, but right now, it's switched off."

"Are you sure of his coming?"

Bangles

"Definitely, I have this expensive chain of his, and he has my bangles and chain, all made of gold." She carefully took out the chain, wrapped in white tissue paper, from her hand-bag, and showed it to the people working there, not allowing them to take it off her hand, for fear they'll snatch it.

"Miss, you can buy one like this, on the pavement for Rs. 500. She was offended.

"Don't say that. I'm no fool. See how heavy it is, and the shine?" They were amused. It's made of a very cheap metal, and coated with 'fancy' gold. Haven't you heard the saying, 'All that glitters is not gold."

A woman, who was at the studio, having overheard the conversation, and shocked by what had happened, sympathetically exclaimed.

"Can there be a bigger fool than you? Make an entry with the police immediately. The police station is just over there."

Kusuma's head reeled. Only then, it dawned on her, that she had been duped, and had fallen victim to a confidence trickster.

All the the names of people and places are fictitious.

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