Dishani SenaratneIs this where that karthakolomban tree was?’
Standing near the sun-wilted crimson anthurium flowers, Jude was so deeply lost in thought that he did not realise his Bata flip-flops were being attacked by a sea of angry ants. The cloudy sky above him contrasted with his entangled web of happy memories.
‘Watch out for ants,’ Amma’s voice nearly shook him. ‘Pillai, I might need a few more minutes to get ready.’
‘Amma, take your time. We’ll go together,’Jude said, moving closer towards her while aggressively crushing the marching ants with his flip-flops, like a giant defeating his dwarfish enemies. As Amma bustled inside, he wondered if she still remembered how she used to push him to go up in the swing that hung from the karthakolomban tree. On their way to church, the village women, most of whom were their relatives, had many questions.
‘For how long will you stay this time?’
‘What took you so long to return?’
‘How is life in Canada?’
‘You must be having two or three cars, no?’
‘You have become fairer than a velinattavar!’
‘It’s high time that you got married.’
‘Let’s look for a pretty girl for you from here.’
Wrapped in multi-coloured saris, the women giggled against the elongated shadows cast on the bumpy road by the tall palmyrah trees. Jude from time to time slowed down to match their pace. He noticed that the houses across the street were brick-built and had terracotta roofs, unlike in earlier days.
Upon entering the church, Jude felt guilty for not praying for a long time in Canada. A host of candles were burning brightly outside the church. The stained glass glistened delightfully as if to welcome him.
Suddenly, he was struck by the sight of Father Bastian. He stood alone on an elevated platform and amid well-trimmed shrubs, oblivious to the people who were exchanging pleasantries. In the many years away, Jude had tried to force himself to visualise Father Bastian’s actual facial features. But all that he had been able to remember was eating tangy-flavoured toffees given by Father Bastian until his tongue turned orange. He thought he saw Father Bastian’s face again. He looked down abruptly and saw on the stone steps leading to the statue of Father Bastian blood spilt thick as spit betel juice.
‘What’s wrong?’ Amma nudged him gently. He shook his head and saw that the steps were clean.
Mumbling something inaudibly, he turned away from the statue of Father Bastian and nearly stepped on Amma’s sari fall. He wished he could hold her hand and tell her how he missed seeing Father Bastian.
***
‘I will not allow anyone in the world to harm our war heroes. Whatever happens, I vow to protect our war heroes who contributed to end the war.’
President Sirisena was addressing a distinguished gathering in Colombo. At a stupa unveiling ceremony held in Anuradhapura, the former President Rajapaksa had responded. ‘The UNP is carrying out the Western agenda. They have forgotten the sacrifices made by the noble war heroes.’
Jude wiped the sweat off his face. He wondered whether the monsoon was nearing.
‘Enough of news. Let’s watch Kalyana Veedu’Amma suggested.
Jude was glad to change the channel.
An hour later, he got off his bed to open the window. Enveloped in a breeze, he tried to recollect the twilight days of Father Bastian, leaning on the window.
They had just returned from Patti’s place on that fateful day. Amma was tending to the cheerful fire burning in the hearth. Appa was scraping coconut faster than Siva mama’s moving motorbike. Jude was making shadows of animals on the cracked wall. The smell of steaming rice filled his nostrils and made him hungry for the next meal.
The sudden howling of dogs pierced through the small thatched house. Amma’s and Appa’s eyes met across the flickering kerosene lamp.
‘Those mad dogs howl at the full moon’ Appa cleared his throat as he spoke.
‘In the Holy name of Jesus, I seal myself and my family in this house and the people in our village and all sources of supply in the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ’ Amma started to pray softly.
Jude got a sudden urge to pee, he didn’t dare go outside, even accompanied by Appa. He felt that something terrible might happen to him if he did so.
The unusually loud church bell woke him up the following morning. Holding his ears in his palms, he jumped out of the whining bed and ran to the kitchen to see whether Amma has prepared breakfast. Rani Attai was seated on a rickety chair in the kitchen. In front of her with her hand on the chin, Amma looked rather pale. They had been talking, Jude had heard their whispers, but now they turned silent. The women looked at him, and under their gaze, he felt rather unhappy because he knew he was unable to penetrate the adult mysteries they understood.
‘Aren’t we going for the mass today?’ Jude asked eagerly.
‘We will go later’ Amma faltered.
‘But Amma if I don’t go, I won’t get any toffees from Father Bastian. They are so yummy. Not like the ones Appa bring ‘ Jude protested.
‘Go outside and play’ Amma snapped.
‘But I want to go! Where is Appa? ‘Jude retorted.
‘Thangai, don’t scold the child!’ Rani Attai blurted out.
Just then, Appa barged into the kitchen. His hair was unusually messy. Rani Attai rose from the chair. His face was sweaty and flushed.
‘What has happened?’ Amma burst out.
‘It’s true. Father and eight others have been ……’ Appa stammered.
And then as if he had suddenly remembered Jude, Appa turned to him and said in a softer voice’ Pillai, fix the loose chain on my bicycle.’
‘I want to be here! I want to know what has happened!’ Jude wanted to shout. But he remained still. He wished he was old enough to know what had happened.
‘Those army bastards… How could they do such a thing? I will kill all of them with my own hands! I will make them rot in hell!’ Jude avoided looking at Appa’s burning eyes and focused on Amma’s mukku valaiyam.
Why does Appa want to go to hell? Isn’t that a bad place? Will he be able to come back, if he goes there?
‘Joseph!’ Jude was surprised because Amma called Appa by his first name.
Suddenly, the church bell started ringing, without a break. Appa nearly fell while rushing towards the front door. All of them ran behind him as if chasing a mad dog. Adjusting his sarong, he got on the bicycle hurriedly.
‘Amma, what’s wrong?’ Jude asked, taking his eyes away from the rotating bicycle chain. He wished he could go with Appa to see what had happened.
Wiping away her tears, Amma hugged him tightly. A subtle smell of jasmine made him close his eyes.
After that day, they didn’t go to the church for a long time. Although Jude asked about it many times, neither Amma nor Appa bothered to explain to him what had happened. Alex told him that some bad people had chased away Father Bastian to India. Appa warned him not to go to the village well to have his evening bath with his friends. Whenever the sound of a vehicle was heard from a distance, Amma banged the front door shut. Appa always returned home before it got dark. Even the mynahs stopped coming to the birdbath in the garden.
The next year, Jude sat for the grade 5 scholarship exam. As expected, he passed it with flying colours. He beamed at the idea of attending a Colombo school. Before his departure, Jude went to church with his parents.
‘If only Father Bastian was here to see that our boy got selected to a Colombo school’ Amma told Father Malcolm, nearly in tears. ‘If only we could see his face one more time’
‘He has given me money on many occasions to buy things for our Jude’ Appa said in a broken voice.
Father Malcolm gently patted Jude on the head. Years later, he got to know how Father Malcolm had helped him to obtain a full scholarship to study at St. Benedict’s. Having returned home, Amma started to pack for him.
Jude was stroking his new watch worn around his wrist – a gift from Father Malcolm.
‘Are you sure the boy will be ok in Colombo?’ fastening the discoloured suitcase with a piece of string, Amma asked Appa.
‘Nowhere is safe for us now. If he stays here, he will eventually join the boys’ Appa said firmly.
‘Our son is clever. If he studies well, he can go to Canada’ Amma pinched Jude’s hand lightly.
‘I don’t want to go to Canada. I want to visit Father Bastian in India’ Jude retorted.
Appa curled his lips.
‘Don’t forget to make a vow at the Kochchikade church before you come back’ Amma advised, after an awkward silence. Appa nodded.
Jude’s first-ever train ride took longer than he expected. He wanted to keep count of the number of stations to Colombo. Jostled back and forth, he opened his eyes wide to avoid falling asleep. Next, to him, Appa was dozing off. He wished that the sun would rise soon so that he could see out of the window.
‘Pillai, get up! We have arrived!’ Appa tapped on his shoulder rigorously. Jude startled awake. They were in Colombo.
Someone pushed Jude from behind as he was getting down and he almost stumbled down the steps off the train. Jude wished he could have some dosa. Appa carried the bulky suitcase on his head. Jude was awed at the sight of men and women walking briskly on the platform. Another train fiercely hooted while moving slowly towards the opposite direction on the other side of the platform. The people were talking in some other language which sounded rather strange. Why aren’t they speaking in Tamil?
Monstrous-looking buses, lorries and cars moving on the road made Jude’s mouth reach his jaw. Under the harsh afternoon sun, the honking vehicles zigzagged like drunken Claus mama.
‘Side!’ a sharp voice was heard from behind. It was a man carrying an enormous gunny sack on his back.
When they were about to cross the road, Jude held Appa’s hand tightly.
‘Cover your nose’ Appa who was already coughing gave him a blue handkerchief sewn by Amma. ‘This smoke is too much’
Jude cried bitterly when Appa left him at the hostel. He feared that he might lose his way in his new school. The arched dimly lit corridors sent chills down his spine. Even though there were other scholarship boys like him, he felt like a solitary immigrant bird who had come to the lagoon near his village leaving its right home very far away. His class teacher was soft-spoken, but she always held a cane in her hand. He missed Alex badly.
Almost a month later, Jude was sitting alone under a canopy of trees during the interval when a boy came and sat on the hard ground next to him. Jude knew the boy was one of the scholarship receivers, but he was from the Sinhala-medium class. Suddenly the boy took Jude’s hand and placed a toffee on his palm. Jude recognised the tangy-flavoured toffee – the same kind that he had received from Father Bastian so many times. Jude wanted to unwrap it and eat it at once, but he stopped himself because he had never spoken with that boy before. The boy pointed his hand towards the playground. They didn’t know each other’s language, but Jude and Sanjaya played together until their crisp white shirts turned brown.
On a gloomy day in July 2001, Jude and Sanjaya were standing in the queue at the canteen. Suddenly, Sanjaya collapsed on the ground. Jude helped him to get to his feet amid gales of laughter. Asanka, who was in Sanjaya’s class, grabbed Jude’s hand.
‘Why did you push him?’ shivering with anger, Jude demanded in Sinhala.
‘Adey you Tamil dog! Watch your mouth! Go back to India where you came from!’ Asanka yelled at him.
‘Sinhala kotiya, I will deal with you later!’ walking away, Asanka smirked at Sanjaya.
Later that day, they were shocked to hear that the LTTE had attacked the Katunayake airport.
***
‘We’re almost there’ Amma said, looking out of the moving three-wheeler.
In the distance, a group of people were taking selfies next to a gigantic soldier that had popped out of a parched piece of land.
‘Why did Joseph mama wish to be buried away from Vankalei?’ Bastian asked, turning down the deafening music playing through the three-wheeler. He was one of many boys in the village named after Father Mary Bastian.
‘Jude’s Appa wanted to be buried with his extended family’ Amma stammered.
Even nine years after Appa’s death from a heart attack, Amma could not talk about him without shedding tears. Once again, Amma ran her fingers through the white flower bouquet that would be soon placed on Appa’s grave.
‘We never had a proper funeral for Father Bastian. We couldn’t bury him. If only we could see his face one more time’ Amma said in a broken voice, after a pause.
‘I wasn’t even born yet when it happened. Anna, do you remember him?’ Bastian asked Jude.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Jude replied in the negative.
Giving out a loud noise, the three-wheeler came to a halt.
‘Let me check’ Bastian limped away from the three-wheeler. Amma had told Jude that he had been shot while escaping from the boys during the last stages of the war.
A Weligama-Matara bus drove past them. Singing and clapping smashed into the empty paved road. By the roadside, Jude was surprised to see a solitary Buddha statue placed under a bo tree. No flowers had been offered.
‘No one can escape from death’ Amma said in a tone of finality, once the journey was resumed. ‘Even the army fellow who plotted the whole thing died in a car crash.’
Bastian hummed along as he turned up the volume of a popular song on the radio.
