Funday Times

Paduma's World By Nihal de Silva
Paduma misses the bus
There is a faint glow in the sky before them. People wake up, speaking in soft voices, and stretch their cramped limbs. Some children begin to cry. Paduma finds Mahi still asleep with his head on the lap of an old woman, a stranger. Bothalay is curled up on the rock, also asleep. He prods them roughly in the ribs.

Faintly yellow at first but, as they rub the sleep from their eyes and watch, the sky turns pink. The light increases slowly and they stare at the brightest spot in the horizon, expecting the sun to peep through at any moment. The forest and rocks below them begin to take shape.

The sunrise fills Paduma with wonder. A great golden ball bursts through the clouds; rays of light seem to rush over the forest towards him, like floodwater racing through rice fields. The rapt faces of the pilgrims are revealed, filled with awe and delight. It is to greet this new day that they had spent a cold and uncomfortable night on the mountaintop.

There is movement on the peak now. People get to their feet, stretching themselves and spitting, calling to their children and gathering their goods. One woman says:

'Let's get to the other side. I want to see the shadow.'
Shadow? Whose shadow?
Filled with curiosity, the boys follow the group keeping a wary eye open for Patholay and the vedarala. They are fortunate, for the crowd is so dense that no one will spot them at any distance.

They follow their new friends as they circle the peak and come to the back of the rock. There is a layer of hazy cloud below them and on it, stretching out to the end of the world, is a black cone exactly in the shape of the mountain. As they watch in stupefied awe, the top of the cone begins, ever so slowly, to creep towards them. An old man explains that they have been watching the shadow of the sacred mountain falling in the clouds below.
Paduma knows that the time has come to turn back but that means meeting Patholay, and worse still, the vedarala.

What punishment have they planned?
'Let's go down by ourselves,' Bothalay suggests. 'By that time, maybe, Uleris will not be so angry.'
'What about Patholay?' Mahi asks.

'We mustn't let him catch us alone,' Paduma decides. 'Let's try to find someone from our nadey and follow at a distance.'
'How to find them in this crowd?'

'We'll go round the top,' Paduma answers. 'Sure to see someone.'
The pilgrims are milling about, some leave the crest; others who had spent the night perched on the steps below push their way impatiently to the peak. The boys keep looking up, hoping to see a known face but the press is too great. They have made almost a full circle when Paduma calls out.
'There, there, that's Uleris,' he says, pointing at the unmistakable grey head in a group going down the steps. 'We'll follow him at a distance.'
'Where's Patholay?' Mahi asks. There is fear in his voice.

'He's sure to be hanging around the vedarala,' Paduma says. 'Don't worry about him.'
'Mata hari badagini,' Mahi says plaintively after a while. 'Aliyekwath kanna puluwani.'
I'm starving. I can eat an elephant.

'Umba aliyek wagey karla thamai ohoma wuney,' Bothalay responds. 'Thava aliyek gillothing …'
You are like this by eating like an elephant. If you were to swallow another elephant …

Bothalay skips aside thinking Mahi will attack him but the fat boy is too downcast to take offence. They carry on doggedly, keeping the white head of the vedarala in sight but safely ahead of them.

They come to a clearing with a row of sheds on either side of the path. Most of them have crude benches for pilgrims to rest on. A small kiosk has food and drinks for sale. Mahi stares longingly at the packets of biscuits stacked on a shelf.

A group of pilgrims have stopped to rest and are preparing to have a meal. Paduma leads the others to the shed. The banana leaves when opened reveal mounds of boiled sweet potato, grated coconut and ground chilli. The pilgrims serve themselves onto scraps of newspaper. When they sit down to eat they notice three small boys standing beside them, staring hungrily at the food.

This is Sri Pada.
Paduma and his friends have eaten their fill; so much that Mahi wants to stop and rest but the others will not hear of it. They know that Uleris has gone ahead and they dare not delay too long. The boys thank their smiling benefactors and dash off.

The steps seem so much easier on the way down. They make good progress till they see the butterflies.

As if by magic the air around them is filled with little yellow butterflies, thousands upon thousands of them. Some are clinging to the trees and shrubs on either side, others have settled on moist patches on the ground, as if to quench their thirst. But most of them are in the air, dancing and circling in the sunlight, slowly climbing towards the peak.

'Ahh, ung yanney padey wandinna,' Bothalay says in a tone of wonderment. 'Eka thamai Samanala kanda kiyanney.'
Ah, they are going to worship Lord Buddha's footprint. That is why they call this Samanala Kanda … butterfly mountain.

Paduma feels a faint tremor of alarm. He remembers that, in their hurry to view the shadow and then run after Uleris, they had neglected to worship the sacred footprint on the rock. It was the purpose of the pilgrimage. He wonders if he will be punished for his lapse and shakes his head as if to banish the thought.

The butterflies thin out and only a few stragglers are seen by the time they come to the stream. Flat stones have been placed in a line to enable pilgrims to cross in comfort but to the right of the path is a wide pool that shimmers in the morning sunlight. Giant kumbuk trees lean over the pool on the far bank. The boys climb onto an overhanging rock to have a closer look.
'We didn't see this last night,' Bothalay says. 'We could have bathed here.'
'We were running from Patholay,' Paduma replies, 'and it was dark.'
'I can see a long fish,' Bothalay says excitedly, peering over the edge of the rock. 'See? See? It's moving.'

Mahi rushes forward and peers over the lip.
'Where? Where?'
No word is spoken; just one quick look and they know what to do. Paduma and Bothalay each place a hand behind Mahi's shoulders and shove.
Mahi Bada's terrified scream ends in a mighty splash. The boys squat on the rock with happy grins as they watch Mahi climb to his feet, coughing and spitting water.

'Help me up,' Mahi says with a shiver, wiping his eyes, 'I c … can't climb up alone.'
Paduma had expected Mahi to attack them in a fury; he is pleased that the boy has taken the ducking in good spirit. Bothalay and Paduma reach out and grasp Mahi Bada's hands.

Once he has a good grip on each hand Mahi's expression changes. Paduma realises, too late, that Mahi has no intention of climbing out. One strong tug and the two boys fly; head first, into the water. Bothalay lands squarely on Mahi's chest making him yell in pain before he is submerged again. They rise to their feet, gasping and spluttering; they begin to splash each other. The forest rings with the sound of their laughter.

The wet clothes cling to Paduma's body making him shiver. The change in his kitbag is still sodden from last night and useless; they have to rely on the sun to dry them. Uleris and the rest must have got well ahead; Paduma leads the way as they race down the steps. They pass some pilgrims wending their way down. There is hardly anyone going the other way.
Bothalay stops suddenly and points.

'Anna divul gahak neydha?' he asks excitedly. 'Gedi thiyanawa wagey.'
Isn't that a diyul tree? Seems to have fruits too.
Divul grows wild in the forest near their village. The ripe fruit is relished by wild animals, especially elephants … and children. The boys step off the track to take a closer look.

The tree is at the base of a large rock; it is heavy with white-brown fruit about the size of a rubber ball they had once played with. It certainly looks like divul.

They are not hungry and they know the urgency of catching up with Uleris. Still the thought that they should hurry on does not even occur to them. This is a tree in fruit; they must have a share before they move on.
The bare trunk is too difficult to climb so they begin to pelt stones at the fruit laden branches. The missiles miss the mark and strike the rock face behind the tree. Paduma notices some strange knobs the size of jak fruits on the side of the rock face. He takes no notice of them till a stone strikes one with a soggy thud.

A black cloud erupts from the bulge and there is an angry buzz in the air.
'Debaru enava,' Paduma screams. 'Duwapalla.'
Wasps are coming. Run.
They dash onto the track and turn to race down the steps. Paduma, who is in the lead, slams straight into an old woman who has been making her leisurely way with the aid of a stick.

'BUDU AMMO-O-O.'
My sainted mother.
The old woman screams in shock and pain as she goes sprawling on the grass. Paduma falls with her. The other two trip over Paduma's feet and crash to the ground with yells of surprise. Mahi lands on Paduma knocking the breath out of his body. The old woman is convinced that a gang is attacking her.

'ANEY DEIYANEY MAVA BEYRAGANNA.'
Please God, save me.
Paduma pushes the groaning Mahi away and tries to get his breath back. He realises that there is no buzzing sound in the air. The wasps have returned to their nest.

The boys lift the trembling old woman and help her to sit on a step.
'Archchita thuwalaitha?' Paduma asks. Are you hurt, grandmother?
'Dhanissa wäduna bima,' she answers. I struck my knee on the ground.
'Apita samavenna,' Paduma says. Forgive us.

'Karunavai, puthey,' the old woman says. 'Yanna. Mama hemming ennang.'
I forgive you, son. You'd better go on. I will follow slowly.
Karunavai normally means kindness, but on Sri Pada the word signifies forgiveness. Paduma, who had expected a tongue lashing, is moved almost to tears by the old woman's generosity. It strikes him that they have done nothing but create trouble from the time they set out and, worst of all, they have failed to venerate the sacred footprint. He has a feeling that some awful punishment is in store for them.

They race down the steps thereafter, ignoring all distractions. It seems a long way now that the sun is beating down; they pass many groups before they finally spot the white head of the vedarala entering an open area lined with parked buses. They hurry forward, determined to take their punishment and get it over with.

Puduma tugs at the man's sleeve and jumps back in horror and confusion. The man who turns around is a total stranger. The questions fly back and forth but in the end even Paduma understands what has happened.
They have followed the wrong route down and have ended up near a town called Ratnapura. Their own group is at Maskeliya, miles and miles away on the other side of the sacred mountain.

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