Short story :

Is life worth living?

Malathi Perera

It was a Sunday, normally Sunil and I are in the habit of going an outing in the evenings with the children as the lives we lead are so monotonous and the children too need a difference.

As the Galle Face Green is now in a better condition, where we could lay a mat and sit and watch the waves, we decided to spend the evening there. Shriyan, my eldest son made a kite for the younger son and the sister Mary, they wanted a lengthier string. Promising to buy an additional ball of strings, we all left towards Galle Face Green.

As usual there were ice-cream vans, gram sellers, “achcharu” which I really liked to taste. The children and Sunil started sending the kite up on the skies. Seated in the car, I was watching them. As I was falling sleepy with the air-conditioner on, I opened the door switching off the air conditioner.

As I opened the door, a man of about 80 years came near the car begging, as Sunil has warned me, not to even look at people when the car is opened as there are thieves, yet, I felt like giving him a ten rupee note. Whilst I was pulling, my purse this man started to say a few Christian prayers of thanksgiving, and me being a Christian I felt more pleased and gave him fifty rupees.

Taking the money in hand he started to talk in good English “Lady I am no beggar but I was made a beggar.” Then I asked “How come” he continued, “I was brought up by a family at the age of six in Kandy, I called them hamu and nona they had three children younger than me, of course they attended to Colombo schools and I was sent to a “Pirivena” I studied up to grade 5 and was stopped going to school and was made to work at home.” He paused a little, I saw a tear rolling from his eyes, I had to take the three children to school and back and evenings for swimming, music and many more work of the children. They said that they had opened a bank account for me and are in process of depositing money, but I never saw.” I had a room of my own and a small pocket radio. Whatever I wanted to do they allowed. Then, as nona was falling ill I started cooking for them. As I felt it was my own home, I did whatever possible to keep the house tidy, garden well maintained and I also could play the piano a little!” after saying that he smiled. I was dumbfounded. “What then” I opened the car door and stood up leaning on to the car to listen to this interesting story.

“Later I found the family was in financial difficulties as hamu retired, so I pulled on my work and they fed me well. Then one by one the children got married, two went abroad with their husbands and “chuti mahattaya” got married and stayed at home. Sriyani the daughter-in-law, did not like me much, from the time, “chuti mahattaya” came home I heard she and nona complaining about me, and I was sent out of the kitchen. They ate special food but I was not given, I did not mind, at that time as I was in my sixties, they told me to do gardening and much more tedious work which I could not do. Even Hamu was helpless, when the others attacked me, he could not talk on behalf or in support of me, I was left in a world of mine alone.” Just then my daughter came crying “ammi aiyya does not give me the kite,” and I had to argue with Sunil to allow the girl also to hold the thread and as soon she took it, she could not hold it tight. It swung away and they lost hold of the kite. Then I told Sunil to take them near to the border of the sea to have a closer look at the waves.

The man was waiting for me. I bought “achcharu” and I gave him also a parcel, he reluctantly took and ate a few pieces of pineapple and offered it to a beggar boy. I asked for his name, he said “Noel Senevirantne.” Hamu put his surname to me and I have a birth certificate.” He showed me the original copy which was brown in colour. “Then one night I overheard they were quarrelling over me and “chuti mahattaya” and “hamu” put me in the car. As my eyes were blurred, I was to under go an operation for eye pressure, yet, they took me in the car, went a long way and in a lonely place at a bus halt I was pushed down. I did not have a cent in my hand, only the birth certificate which I had the time of lifting from my drawer and a few photographs.

I asked why he did not inform the Police, he said “No never. I love that family how can I ever do that, from there I walked up to Colombo and near churches and temples I got my meals and slept where ever I felt comfortable.” He showed me the photographs. Those were stain photos not visible enough. Recently, I had to travel to Kandy in a bus alone, and as on the route information given by the old man, I went in search of the house and I found that house was not there, the main road had been widened, and the house had been destroyed. As I always had an aim of helping or sorting out problems of others of which my husband usually grumbles. I inquired from the particular vicinity. A hotel man said, “A Seneviratne family was there about ten years back, now they are living in the scheme houses in Kandy.”

I managed to find the Seneviratne, I was amazed to see an unclean dirty small flat. I asked the neighbours , They said, “Aiyo nona the most miserable family in the flat, from morning till evening the old couple quarrels and the children are “kuddas.” That was enough for me.

I thought of the Bible verse “what shall you sow, so shall you reap.”

As the school examinations were close by I was involved with the education of my three children and I forgot the whole episode.

One morning I heard the postman ringing his bell and Alice came running and said there is a small parcel nona you have to sign and collect it.

I was wondering what it was. I never used to get parcels by post. Yet, I signed and took and opened it. It was a savings book and the name was A N R Seneviratne. I was puzzled. Then, I read the attached note it said “give this to Harrison Seneviratne, 16/4 H Housing Scheme, Malwatte Road, Kandy.

I opened the book and I was dazed, there was Three Hundred Thousand collected to be withdrawn by Harrison. I started sweating and felt faintish. Then quickly the old man came to my mind whom I met, several years back. As the children were in school, I called Alice quickly took the car keys and drove fast as possible to Galle Face. I searched for the old man’s face and I asked one of the “saruvath” sellers what happened to the old man, they even without looking at me said, he died several months back, another small boy said, he was having high fever, my mother warded him in hospital. With the book in hand I saw the evening twilight, beyond the horizon, sun sinking deeper and deeper, reminiscing the conversation of the old man had with me, suddenly my lips unawares whispered “May He Rest in Peace.”

“Nona yamu gedera babala avith ethi,” said Alice. With tearful eyes, I tried to keep my mind balanced and I decided to carry out the task of handing over the savings book to the man whom the old man requested.

Another task on my head, yet, is there an end to this world?

(Based on a true story.)