Black Student (Kalu Sisuviya)
It
was Indumali, who was watching outside the ward of the hospital. Indumali was
suffering herself for nearly one month due to some disease of her throat. The
final decision of the doctor who examined her was that she should get herself
cured; she should take a complete rest. The doctor who examined her finally
explained to her the best solution is that she should get herself warded at the
hospital and to take treatment. Without any hesitation, Indumali agreed to
that.
Indumali
was serving as a special music professor in a reputed university in Colombo.
The popularity and the special grading of the university was a reason for her
limited rest. All the five days of the week Idumali was surrounded by the
students who were trained in the music field. Idumali was solely engaged by
exhausting herself to send the students to different types of welcoming
festivals and competitions. This was a known fact to the principal of the university
including the staff but they became dumb
even to give her a small praise and appreciation. It may be due to their
innocence. Anyway unnecessarily exhausting her throat led a way towards another
issue of taking medical treatment.
She
was on the fifth bed of a ward allotted for females in a government hospital.
On both sides of her bed, there were two young women although it was a fact
that she should limit her speech the two women never cared even for a single
cent. They asked unending questions from Indumali. As she cannot give answers
to never ending questions, Idumali very often tried to sleep, although she was
not feeling sleepy. She would close her eyes and stay on the bed facing upwards.
Indumali was partially awakes at 5 pm and 12 pm. She was waiting to welcome her
people coming from her home and her friends and relations. At one time, she was
thinking that it was the happiest time she spent in the hospital. More than
anything, to meet her husband during that hour was the most adorable time for
her. He was stroking her head very slowly and just before leaving her, will
carefully look around here and there. When everybody leaves, he kisses Indumali’s
forehead and neck and like a little one who got caught for some mischief and
bends down his head to the ground and leaves that place. Idumali who loves that
beautiful moment, tries her best to hide it in her mind and heart during the
twenty-four hours of the day trying to enjoy the golden memories of it.
Another
long day she spent in the hospital ward, the afternoon arrived, and Indumali
was watching the distance visible from the gate of the ward. Suddenly Indumali
saw Sudarka’s body was moving towards her very fast. Quickly he stopped near
Indumali’s hand with full of emotion with love and kindness. “So how are you?
Today you are much better”. By holding her hand lightly, Sudarka questioned
her. “Yes I am much better when you come to see me. I feel very good.” Idumali
got herself pet like a child in front of Sudarka . “Now now, you are telling
lies here after if you tell lies, I am not going to give you any presents that
I brought.
”
“Presents?”
“Yes Presents”.
“What
is that?”
“They
are books”
“Yes
your `Best Friends` books right?”
“Ahh! It’s real.”
“Brand new books I think some beautiful
novels.”
“Yes some translations, near the book shop I
thought of you, so take them.”
“Very
good, you encourage me on all what I read and write. So like that to help me to
read books is the duty of my best supporter.”
“Ah!
Now it is enough, have you Had your meals’. In a little while, a big crowd from
your university will come and fill this place. Then I have no place.”
“Why
you feel jealous?”
“Oh no I feel sorry for those young ones.”
Then their friendly conversation stopped. Indumali’s father with a bowl of soup
and a bunch of kolikuttu plantains in his hands came and stopped near the bed.
Indumali saw a drop of tears in his eyes. Sudarka let father and daughter to
share their sorrow and stayed away from the bed.
“I
don’t have a big sickness. I will be okay soon, you don’t feel sad father.”
Indumali uttered slowly with a stammering voice. Indumali’s father very slowly
stroked her head.
As
the visiting hours to see the patients were over the ward were very quiet, the
sky became dark and the whole background was still. There were beautiful small flowerpots
on the short wall of the ward. It was ‘Sathya’ who was there and she was taking
care of them each morning. Sathya was the head nurse who was in charge of the
ward. By putting down all her efforts all, the pots were rolled on the ground.
There were signs of a big rain. Indumali thought this was the best time to read
a book. She took one of the books that Sudarka bought, to her hand `Charu
Latha` Idumali who took the book into her hands enjoyed to good smell of the
new book as usual. Starting slowly by slowly and very fast Indumali by keeping
her nose on the new pages of the book and enjoyed to fragrance of the new pages
as usual. Isn’t it the same good smell that Indumali enjoyed 20 years before,
came to the mind of Indumali when she was preparing to sit for her fifth year
scholarship examination, her father gifted her for her birthday a set of
wonderful story books. At that time by putting covers, save guarded them from
her little brother with the greatest difficulty. How the set of books that day
itself made her thrilled and how she enjoyed the good smell of the new pages
while lying down herself on the sofa came to her mind before reading the books.
Among those books there were also books relating to the training of her music
field. The book named (English and Sinhala Songs) which she found among those
books was kept safely in her bookrack at home up to date. Her father always
states that Indumali’s fate foretold on that book. Indumali was recollecting
her past on the memories of this book.
“Teacher
now I have brought a singing book”. Indumali mentioned to the singing teacher
of the school. Just the day after she received the gift from her father.
“Oh
it’s a good book. My daughter you select a good song from the book and practise
for the concert this time.” The singing teacher, with a great kindness, asked
for the book.
“Indumali
do you know these songs by heart?” “Yes teacher, the first song I can sing by
heart”. “Indumali come to the front of the class. Now Indumali is going to sing
an English song, all of you must listen quietly.” All the children were quiet.
Indumali started to sing the song.
I
am a little teapot
Short
and stout
Here
is my handle and
Here
is my
Pour
me out.
According to the tune of the
song, Indumali’s head moved both sides her hands turned towards apart, and
everybody clapped their hands happily. “Oh it is beautiful Indumali is so
talented not only to sing but also in acting she is talented”. The music
teacher praised her. Indumali who went to sit down with the children stopped
and said “Teacher it was my father who taught me to sing the song like that.
The time, days turned out to be weeks the date of the Annual Music Festival of
the school came very close at hand the music teacher practised the English song
(I am a little teapot) to the fifth and sixth standard children. How to sing
the song and to do the bodily actions to the tune was explained to the children
by the teacher. Indumali very efficiently did the practises. The rest of the
members of the staff who came to watch the practises being done, they were all
lacking something. It was Indumali’s special capability. All of the children in
the school and especially the children on her class gave her special attention
to Indumali. Indumali gave a beautiful presentation by doing her work accordingly
to them and singing the song by moving her head accordingly to the lyrics of
the song.
“I
think she is good. I think we should send her to the school to do the singing
Competition next year. Some people suggested that idea too” “She is so cute. It
is so sad because her mother died and she is being looked after by her father”.
The social studies teacher at one time mentioned “Why, what happened to her
mother.” it was questioned by Ganga the science teacher. Indumali’s mother died
when her brother was born. From that day onwards Indumali’s father took care of
his children like his own eyes. He will even give his life for the sake of his
daughter and son. “Oh! Sin, whatever it is the girl is very talented.” “Yes,
yes she looks very lucky. Look how she is singing those English words by
pointing her mouth.” While the practises were going on the comparisons were
like no less than the other. All the talks were about to Indumali, two weeks
before the music teacher informed the new clothes to match the tune of the song
should be made for all the children who are participating the concert. Indumali
had a conversation with her father as usual during the dinner time. At that
time she informed her father about this message.
“How
much money is needed for my daughter to stich the clothes, you come and tell
me. I do everything for my children, for my son and for my daughter.” When he
heard about making her clothes, her father said this to her. The day before the
last day of the concert also came close at hand. Indumali as usual did her
studies. But still there was happening interior without the knowledge of
Indumali. But to understand what is happening, Indumali’s mind was not matured
enough. While they were practising the song the music teacher took the children
towards the dancing room. The children of the school used it as a dancing hall.
Indumali was thinking that at any moment, she will also be accompanied to the
dancing hall whilst taking the children one by one towards the dancing room.
The children were entrusted to Indumali. She did her responsibility to the best
of her ability. Another two children from the group of ten got the opportunity
to go to the dancing room but Indumali never got that chance. Indumali’s mind
was not broad enough to think any further about this matter. With a great
effort and liking she did the practises of the song to the other children.
There were signs of terminating of what was happening in the dancing room. The
music teacher and a well-built lady came out of the room. The well-built lady
had a somewhat large bag in her hand. She kept it in between her armpit.
Although she was a bit fat and tall she dressed very elegantly. She was looking
at the children who were practising the song very attentively. The music
teacher uttered something very slowly while she was listening to that voice.
The fat and tall lady again focused her attention to the children who were
practising. Her eyes were pointing to Indumali. It seemed that she could not
take her eyes away from the child who was using her 5 sense according to the
meaning of the song and singing and dancing beautifully. Something that music
teacher uttered was not heard by the fat and tall lady. Hence the music teacher
observed her emotions. The music teacher noticed that she was not in against of
Indumali. “Ah! Mrs Levera I told you about that child.” The music teacher uttered pointing at Indumali
who was at the stage. “Oh she’s a cute little girl, she sings beautifully and
her acting is also good.” The fat lady mentioned with humour. “Yes Mrs Levera, she was the first in
the English singing competition in the school last year.” “Oh really, she’s
very sweet” uttered the other lady. “But I told you I have a small problem”.
“Yes it is like that, but she has good talents.” “Yes Mrs Levera but to this
concert there are officers coming from the ministry.” “The children of our
school, teachers, education department and our bosses are coming.” “Yes yes,
what is important to you, is to give a good presentation no!” “Yes because of
her my efforts cannot be run down.” The practises due for day at was over. All
were dispersed. To take home Indumali, her father and brother were there. As
usual the front pillow of the bicycle was for the brother. While the father was
holding the bicycle, Indumali go into the rear seat. They started their
journey. “My daughter, now when is your concert?” While riding the bicyle the
father asked. “Wednesday of the next week.” “My daughter is only five days.
Today is Friday. “Yes father that is why we are still practising. Teacher said
that next week both the days we are practising. We are now practising in the
small stage of the school, she said that next week we are going to the big
stage.” Indumali said to her father without a break. “The my daughter when are
they sewing the clothes?” questioned the father. Indumali’s father loved his
two children the same. For the sake of greater affection he called Indumali to
“son”. Still there were many occasions, where Indumali’s brother declared war.
“Don’t fight my children I love both of the same. Your father belongs to both
of you. Both of you are mine.” At one time the father dragged them towards him
by both of his hands and embraced them and put them close to his chest and told
it to them. “Father about the sewing of our clothes was not mentioned yet.
Teacher will sew them.” “Yes my daughter, if it is the case it would be much
better, we will give money to the teacher.” The father said.
The
minutes, hours turned out to be days. Indumali felt that the days were passing
slowly. Vey often these days, Indumali dreamt the opening day of the concert.
After having dinner the father gave the toothbrushes to the hands of the
children. It is of habitual. After brushing the teeth to wash their feet and
dry them is a must. After that they would raise their hands and worshiping the
photograph of their mother which is placed in a short cabinet of the living
room. They say “ ,,”. It is a hymn for their mother by saying it they worshiped
their mother. Each day when that moment arrived the father who comes out of the
living room was gazing at the mango tree which is at the entrance without even
a wink of an eye. Each time he thought that isn’t it the only precious thing
alive with his wife. It came to his mind that both of them got married and after
building their house how the mango tree was planted. His wife holding the plant
and how we put the soil and planted it. Today that plant has developed into a
huge tree that bears very lovely fruits. Actually the fruits were very tasty.
The shade is very cool, the vision is very pleasant. Actually his wife has been
born as an angel to the tree he thought. He believed that by his spirit and
power she was protecting him and the children safeguarding them from all the
miseries and crisis. “Father his thoughts were disturbed by the voice of the
son. “Wait my son your father just went out. It is very cool outside and the
moon is also rising. Friday is poya day no.” “Father” by saying that the two
children worshiped in front of the father. “Father raised” the two children up
when the worship was over. By dragging them close to him he kissed the
foreheads of the two children. “Father I am tired.” The son started to get
himself pet. “Yes my son we will sleep now. We should get up early tomorrow.
Your sister’s festival is also tomorrow no.” They went to sleep, both the
children wanted the father. The father was in the middle of the double bed,
both the son and the daughter got the warmness of the father. The head of the
son was resting on the left shoulder and the head of the daughter was resting
on the right shoulder. They were fast asleep only the father stayed up having
his own thoughts. Indumali started to talk in her dreams. “Come, come teacher I
am here no. Teacher are we looking nice?” Indumali started talking from time to
time. The Father shook her from his shoulder and stopped her. She kissed her
forehead and showed his affection to her alone. But still Indumali saw her
dream without a break. She saw a lot of things; they were dressed with
beautiful clothes. They who were dressed like little angels when the song is being sung they wore the hats which they had
in their hands. Indumali felt that everybody’s attention was focused on her.
She heard her name being called from everywhere. On the lower side of the stage
among the crowd, Indumali saw her father, her mother and her brother. Indumali
who was shocked forgot what the staircase of the stage jumped down from the
front of the stage. The mother stretched her hands toward Indumali to catch and
carry Indumali. At once Indumali who escaped from the hands of her mother fell
on to the ground. “M..mmm.mother?” Indumali shouted aloud. The date Wednesday
also arrived it is Indumali’s father who dressed her with the white frock which
he has ironed on the previous night without breaking the pleats and did all the
other decorations to her. He put more pink powder on her on both sides of her
face. He took two green ribbons and put two pig tails on both sides of her
head. It is not so easy to knit the hair of the little girl which is thick and
curley. The rest of the hair she combed very well and let it hang on the sides.
Indumali looked more beautiful with a pair of new socks and the new tie. They
travelled by bicycle, today they went. It was Indumali who likes to bus. The school
was looking beautiful. Everybody was busy. They were wearing clean and new
clothes. The school flag, national flag and the Buddhist flag were raised. The
school prefixes by putting forward their talents walked up and down. They were
all wearing school uniforms. They are special occasions of the school it was
the school prefixes and girl guides who had the chance of wearing school
uniforms. It is compulsory when they take part in the national events of the
school. Indumali went in search of music
teacher. She could not find any members of her group nor the music
teacher. Indumali came back to her father. “Whats wrong Indumali?” “Father my
groups is not there” “We will stay in front my daughter, teacher will come and
fetch you” Indumali trusted her father. “Check Check” there was a sound on the
microphone, everybody was quiet still they were some life from the hall. The
parents of the children and the children who were invited from other schools
were seated in front of the hall behind the screen of the stage there were a
lot of things being prepared. After the Sarawathi dance, lighting of the
tradition lamps the speech of the director of the education department, the
speech of the secretary of the ministry, the speech of the principal of the
school and all that. There was a display of an English group song. The school
prefixes were busy distributing the item sheets. The work of the festival
committee was open. Indumali’s father started to think the music teacher
instead of come and fetch her not to be seen at all. He was searching whether
there were the other little children who used to do the practise with Indumali.
They could not find any information. He
again looked at the stage. After the speech of the principal, the screen was
closed. After that he realised that there was nothing practical that happened.
The screen which was closed was apart. On both sides of the stage there were
tea pots standing on both sides of the stage. A beautiful music was playing.
Little children one by one , one after the other came to the middle of the
stage. They were dressed like teapots and were in front and the music was a
little louder. The children started singing “I am a little teapot…….” The
microphone was removed and nine children started to sing the song and dance along
to the tune. In a moment, there was something that happened in the hall. “I am
a little teapot.” According to the tune there was someone who started to sing
that song. Leaving all the other voices behind the sound that came from the
hall was spread everywhere. The people who were behind stood there and looked
around. As if there was nothing has happened, the song was sung. Actually that
voice was sweet the tune was correct and she made her actions according to the
song. The person who was very close to her started to shed tears. He did not
have a handkerchief to wipe his tears. When his daughter was singing that song
he wept quietly. He could not understand whether to cry for sorrow or happiness.
the little son who saw his father
shedding the tears held tightly to his right hand. He leaned against the father
and hid his face against his shoulder. The singing and dancing of the stage was
over. Indumali also finished her song. Everybody clapped their hands aloud.
“Father I sang very well no”. Indumali
looked at the face of her father. “Father why are you crying.” The child who
saw her father crying for the first time questioned him. The rest of the work
of the committee was again starting. There was a display of a goblet dance. “We
will go my daughter,” the father suggested. The two children who were seated at
one place for hours and hours agreed to it. They tried to come out. At the
second entrance, Indumali again looked at the stage. “Do you want to see that?”
“I am hungry” The reply came from the brother. Then we will go. They went out
of the second gate and came to the garden. “Farther there, my friend Saralah,
she is calling me.” Indumali ran to the children who were practised the song
with her. They were still with their costumes which they wore for the singing.
Indumali’s father slowly came towards the children, the brother was also there
behind them. Indumali was surrounded by the little children. The music teacher
too came there. “Indumali why did you sing the song staying down?.” Saralah
questioned her. “But she does not have clothes like us no.” replied Danushika.
“What are you talking about children?” asked the music teacher who came there.
“Why did Indumali not come to sing the song teacher?” questioned Saralah to the
music teacher. The father who kept silent all this time raised his voice.
“Actually teacher how was our daughters practises, she never told me to stitch
her clothes.” The teacher looked at the father of Indumali. Indumali was
watching the fat lady coming from afar. Indumali identified her as the lady who
was talking to the music teacher and looking at her last week. “Oh the costumes
were very beautiful.” “Yes” said the music teacher. “I think this is the lady
who sewed the costumes” said Indumali’s father. “Yes Indumali is your daughter,
she sings beautifully”, Mr Levera said. “Yes she never told me about the
stitching of the costumes.” “ Shall I tell you what happened?” the music
teacher tried to open up the problem. However at once they received the answer.
“Why teacher you said that as Indumali was dark she’s not taken to the
concert.” A girl who was right next to the music teacher who was talkative said
that. Her name is Charuni. “Yes, yes teacher told me also that I should not to
tell Indumali that our costumes are being prepared.” “Oh sin, it is teacher who
said that she is dark” Shanika who was listening to everything said in a sad
voice. Indumali looked at the face of the father. The father who was wet with
tears sometime back was wet again. But the gravity of it and how hard they are
Indumali could not understand. “Although I am dark I am the one who was singing
very well everyday and I am the one who brought the book to the school.”
Indumali protested. Her father raised
his hands and carried her while holding the hand of the brother he came out of
the school premises. By exhausting herself to the hands of the father Indumali
waved her friends and said goodbye. The next day itself Indumali received a
letter of resignation from the school, the father made up his own mind “Father
my sister is dark no. Keep her down and carry me”. The brother cried, the
father looked at his face. There is only discussions and nothing more than
that. “The patient doesn’t want any medicine? Get up and take your medicine”
Indumali was astonished by the voice of the head nurse. The book, which she was
closing his face fell down because she was too excited.
Why
it is that Indumali closed the eyes and slept. Thinking that you have to take
much medicine. Do not be afraid, tomorrow you can go home. By selecting the tablets,
the nurse said. Without saying anything, Indumali stretched her hands to take
the medicine.
Hem-