| Even
a minor event in the life of a child is an event in that child’s
world ... and thus a world event.
Paduma and the gold chain
Mänika, Paduma’s mother, cries out that her gold chain
is missing.
Suda’s daughter is to marry next week and the wedding will
be a grand affair. Most of the villagers will be invited to the
function but Mänika, being Suda’s sister, will be given
a special place. She has put out her one good sari, a crimson affair
with a gold border, to air on a line near the kitchen. Paduma is
warned not to go near it.
Mänika
had been forced to pawn her gold bangles when Paduma’s father,
Sediris, was arrested. The lawyer had made promises and collected
his fees, but Sediris was sent to jail just the same. Now she has
only one piece of jewellery left, a simple gold chain. Mänika
remembers taking the chain from its hiding place behind a rafter
that morning. She had scrubbed it carefully with soap and water
and left it on the table.
Now
it is gone.
“Padu, meyka umbey vihiluwakkda?” Mänika asks Paduma
mournfully.
Padu is this one of your pranks?
“Nä amma, satthakai.”
No mother. I swear.
“We
have searched everywhere,” Paduma’s sister Prema says.
“It’s not in the house.”
“Then some one has stolen it,” Kumari decides grimly.
“Amma, why did you leave it in the open like that? It is your
own fault.”
Normally
Mänika would have reacted strongly but today she seems beaten
down.
“I know it’s my fault,” she admits sadly, “but
how am I to attend this wedding without even one piece of jewellery?
They’ll think I’m a beggar.”
“Why can’t we find the thief?” Paduma asks. “Who
came to the house today?”
“Don’t be foolish,” Mänika says impatiently.
“They’re all known people. We can’t accuse them
of stealing ...”
“No
amma,” Prema interrupts her, “Padu is right. Who came
here today?”
“Karunawathi came in the morning,” Mänika says
with a worried frown. “Pincha came to buy breadfruit and then
... and then Alba came to ask when your father is being released.”
“Alba. That’s the fellow, I’m sure,” Kumari
says.
Kalu Alba is the village thug and kasippu seller.
“It
could have been anyone,” Mänika says uncertainly. “Pincha
is a cattle thief and you know Karunawathi is always in debt to
Josa Mudalali.”
“Why don’t we go to Themis Ralahamy?” Prema asks
suddenly. “Why not go to the light reader?”
There
is silence as the family digest the idea.
Paduma has heard about light reading; anjanang eli his friends call
it. By chanting and help from the spirit world, some fortunate holy
men are able to dig out secrets not seen by ordinary people. Themis
Ralahamy is such a man.
The
silvery hair falls forward as the old man bows his head to accept
the sheaf of betel leaves. Paduma had seen his mother place the
fee of twenty rupees between the leaves.
Themis
gestures to them to sit on the mat before him. Paduma has been brought
along only with great reluctance and on the promise he wouldn’t
open his mouth. He crouches behind his mother but peers at the old
man with great interest, taking note of the lined face, bushy white
eyebrows and deep, rumbling voice.
“Haminey,
what brings you to me?” Themis asks softly. “Perhaps
it is an ... arrangement for one of these young ladies?”
“No,” Mänika says. “Nothing like that.”
“Illness in the family? Is some enemy trying to harm you?”
Themis probes gently, looking into Mänika’s eyes. “Trouble
with a relative maybe?”
“No. No.”
“Ahhh
I see,” the old man leans back with a smile of satisfaction.
“You have lost something and want to recover it.”
Mänika can’t suppress her gasp of wonder. Paduma is impressed
too but remains silent.
“Yes, ralahamy, you are absolutely correct,” Mänika
says breathlessly. “A valuable gold chain, it was. I left
it on a table ... in my house, this morning. Now it is gone. I need
to ... I have to find it ...”
Themis Ralahmy sits on a cushion with his back to the wall. Before
him on a low table is a large glass bottle filled with water; between
the bottle and Mänika is a small brass lamp.
The
old man strikes a match, lights the lamp and adjusts the wick. He
positions the lamp directly behind the bottle and gazes into the
dancing flame seen in the water.
“Many people have visited your home today” he announces.
His voice has changed; it seems to be coming from above, from near
the roof.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Men
have come,” he says, “also women. How many came today?”
“Three.”
“One of them is the thief. I can see their figures,”
he goes on. “I see them coming and I see them going.”
“Which one?” Mänika asks eagerly. “Which
one took my chain?”
“Ahh, I see the thief,” Themis murmurs. “I see
the hand clearly... reaching out to take the chain ...”
“Who is it? Who is it?”
Silence.
“I ... I cannot tell. The face is covered from my eyes by
a powerful charm,” the old man’s voice is weary, defeated.
“I tried to pierce the veil but the charm is too strong.”
“Oh what are we to do?” Mänika is pleading. They
are so close to the truth.
Themis Ralahamy blows out the lamp. His face is beaded with perspiration.
He looks at Mänika; his voice is full of compassion when he
speaks.
“Haminey, a very powerful spirit protects the thief. No one
can see his face.”
“But,
ralahamy ... I must find my chain,” Mänika says desperately.
“I cannot attend the wedding without it ... my brother will
be shamed.”
“I am sorry,” the old man says, shaking his head. “There
is nothing I can do unless ...”
“Yes?” Mänika asks eagerly. “Unless what?”
“We can place a charm near their houses. The guilty one will
fall ill and suffer. We’ll then know who the person is.”
“Are
you sure only the guilty person will suffer?” Mänika
asks uncertainly.
“Yes, of course,” Themis assures her. “The innocent
have nothing to fear.”
“All right,” Manika says, “but what will it cost?”
“For you, haminey, I will do it for one hundred and fifty.”
“Oh
no, ralahamy,” Mänika confesses tearfully. “I don’t
have so much money. Is there no other way?”
The old man shakes his head: “No. These ceremonies are expensive.
Why don’t you think about this and come back another day?”
Paduma sits on the front step of his home and listens to his sisters
trying to comfort his mother.
“Oh
where can I find so much money?” Mänika asks. “Even
Josa won’t lend me such an amount.”
“Don’t cry, amma,” Kumari says. “We will
search the house again in the morning. Maybe it is still here.”
Paduma has not seen his mother so sad and is deeply moved. He wishes
there is something he can do to help.
Bothalay says he knows all about charms.
“My
sister had skin trouble once; made her look like a kabara goya.
Medicine from the veda didn’t cure her so my mother knew it
was caused by a charm,” he says, nodding wisely. ‘Themis
Ralahamy said it was äs vaha by a relative.’
Äs vaha means jealousy.
“So what did your mother do?” Mahi Bada asks.
‘She buried charms in their gardens.”
“So? What happened?” Paduma asks with great interest.
“Did they all die?”
‘No, but Sudu Mama became very ill,’ Bothalay answers
happily. ‘I saw. There was blood and stuff coming from his
nose.’
“You’re
a liar.”
“No. It’s true. I swear.”
“What happened to your sister? Did she get better?”
Paduma asks, throwing another rock at the water.
“Sure. After some time,” Bothalay says, “same
as Sudu Mama. That is how a charm works!”
“My mother doesn’t have money to pay Themis,”
Paduma says sadly. “Otherwise we could have caught the rogue.”
“Why
don’t we make charms?” Bothalay asks. “I know
how it is done.”
Bothalay demands human bone, human ashes and human hair. Mahi Bada
refuses to have anything to do with the project so it is left to
Paduma to supply the items needed.
Hair
is no problem.
Paduma remembers the bleached bones of a cow that lay by the wäwa.
He smashes one piece with a rock to produce three small slivers
of bone. He goes to the vacant strip of land at the end of the village
where cremations are carried out. Old Sirinoris had been cremated
in the previous week and there is plenty of ash at the pyre. Paduma
collects some debris from the centre. Surely there must be human
ash there?
Bothalay
insists on going to a lonely place at night to conduct the ceremony.
They are on the bund now, sitting in a tight circle. Mahi Bada keeps
glancing over his shoulder.
“Are
you sure this is human bone?” Bothalay asks suspiciously.
“Of course! Do you think I will bring anything else?”
Paduma answers.
“Apita yaka gahaida?” Mahi Bada asks nervously.
Will an evil spirit strike at us?
“Shut
up.”
Bothalay has prepared the three charms by wrapping each sliver of
bone with hair and daubing it with ash. They place the charms on
the ground and dance around them chanting. After a while Bothalay
announces that the charms are ready.
The
other two hurry off to their homes leaving to Paduma the task of
burying the charms. He starts off grimly determined but his courage
deserts him when he nears the gate of the first house.
He
stands on the footpath and throws it towards the shuttered front
door of Pincha’s house. It falls with a thud. He deposits
the other two charms in the same way and runs home.
It
is early morning a day later when Paduma hears a scream and rushes
out. His sister Prema, who has been sweeping the garden, is standing
there with one hand over her chest and the other holding the missing
gold chain.
Mänika is smiling through her tears and they are all speaking
at the same time. Clearly the thief has flung the chain into the
garden, knowing it will be found in the morning.
“Everyone
knew we had seen Themis,” Kumari concludes. “The thief
must have known we’ll plant a charm. That’s why it was
returned.”
“I didn’t even bury it,” Paduma tells his friends,
“just threw it into the garden.”
“Must
be very powerful. Thief must have felt illness coming and ran to
give back,” Bothalay says smugly. “Now we can make more
charms; only have to remember same words we chanted.”
“I
used three bad words again and again,” Paduma says and turns
to Mahi Bada. “What did you chant?”
Mahi looks guilty: “I was frightened. I closed my eyes and
recited gatha. Can’t remember now.”
They pounce on Mahi and slap his head but it is useless; he can’t
remember anything. |
