“I know your responsibility to protect whom”, a man said harshly at Fahim sir. Shibly could sense a clear division within the crowd in front of the hospital. Some people were supporting Mohideen Hajiyar and some were against him.
Fahim sir was struggling with many villagers to explain them. It was not clear whether they loved the principal or their hatred towards Mohideen Hajiyaar was driving them to make a profit out of the situation.
Whatever their motive was, Shibly found it disgusting the way these folks make use of the situation to please their animal instinct.
It was clear that many people wished to write off the responsibility for the incident on Mohideen Hajiyar’s account. Fahim sir was taking a painstaking effort to calm them all. For the first time, Shibly felt a true sense of sympathy and respect towards Fahim sir, since he met him that day morning.
At the same time, a white colour van arrived and stopped.
A man got out of the vehicle.
What’s going on here?
Is Shibly hallucinating?
The Principal got out of the vehicle and started walking towards the crowds, with his authoritative smile. But, not with his usual attire.
He was wearing a white sarom, a white shirt and a white cap. His Moustache was trimmed short unusually and he had a small beard. Moreover, he wasn't wearing his spectacles.
What's going on here?
How could it be possible?
How could the severely injured principal walk this way?
“It’s Mohideen Haajiyar”, Shibly could hear many people murmuring to each other.
Soon he realized his mistake. This was Mohideen Hajiyar. But, he astonishingly resembled the principal, just like twin brothers. Just like the same man acting in double roles.
Some people went and shook hands with him. Despite the chaos, only now Shibly realized how many people respect Mohideen Hajiyar, at least, pretend to respect him.
Mohideen Hajiyar went inside the hospital. Nearly fifteen minutes passed. Everyone could see from the outside that he was talking to doctors.
Then, he came outside with two others.
"Doctor Zaidh", some people whispered.
One of them looked too young to be a doctor. Shibly supposed he was the principal's son - Hamzi. He was right.
Then, the other man, who looked like a northern Indian film star must be doctor Zaidh.
Mohideen Hajiyar talked to the crowd when the other men stood nearby.
"Listen, everyone, we talked to the principal. He is alright. Doctor Zaidh says it is better to take some tests. Sometimes he will have to go to Colombo for the extra testings. Apart from that, he is fine. Zaidh Mahan (son), why don't you explain?".
Doctor Zaidh started talking :
"Nothing to worry about his condition. Everything looks normal. He is getting the usual treatment. He should be in medical observation at least for the next twenty-four hours. I personally feel it is better to do some tests. But, we don't have the facility to conduct all the tests in our hospital".
"This is a hospital. We can't gather in a crowd like this. Let's go home. We will talk about everything tomorrow", Mohideen Haajiyar said authoritatively. "Police officers are also requesting us to leave".
Marudurians started moving without any second word as if they were spellbound. Shibly was in fact amazed by this man's leadership quality.
Mohideen Haajiyar did not have any dominating way of talking like the principal had. Still, he could create an atmosphere of authority. It was amazing…!
****
"Come on, Shibly, let's go. Minhaj is going with Mohideen Haajiyar for some work", Rizwan sir said.
Rizwan sir and Shibly prayed sunset prayer in a close-by mosque and entered a tea store to have their evening tea.
Tea means, in many Sri Lankans' linguistic repositories, tea with milk. Tea was planted by the British administration as a plantation crop. Since then tea has become not only an export commodity of this country but also part of our lives. People rarely drink milk without mixing it with tea.
Rizwan sir and Shibly were sitting at a table in a Vijayapura tea store.
"Someone has shared a security camera footage", Rizwan sir showed Shibly a video on his mobile.
Shibly watched the video. A bike arrives with two men. One of them gets out of the bike and hits the Principal with a cricket bat. The Principal, having been a rugger player did not only defend himself, he wanted to capture those men.
Now those men had in turn come to a defending position where they had to furiously defend themselves and somehow to run away. His real injury must have occurred actually at this point.
When Shibly was watching the footage, a memory of today's incident flashed in his mental vision. He saw today two grade nine boys who were standing in the middle of the ground. It was a punishment for they had failed to complete their mathematics homework. It was just a simple pie chart.
Those two fourteen years old boys were not physically punished. It was just an emotional punishment.
The Principal found them in his usual walk-around the school premises. He was the one who had given them the punishment.
Occasionally, groups of girls were passing by, giggling in mocking tones. Shibly wasn’t sure whether they were teasing those two boys or laughing for something else. But, those two grade nine boys looked apparently humiliated.
Shibly felt sorry for those boys. They are in the early years of their teenage years. Being just fascinated by their newly found opposite-sex attraction.
In mix-gender schools, being boys humiliated in front of girls could be the severest form of punishment. The same is true when it comes to girls, being punished in front of boys.
Those handsome boys looked so tall and grown beyond their age. Shibly was reminded of those two grade-nine boys when he saw in the security camera footage the two young men hitting the principal.
“Sir, can you forward me that footage?”, Shibly asked Rizwan sir.
*****
Shibly's Diary
“Here you go. You are happily eating short-eats after hitting your principal, ah?”, a person of nearly fifty years old intruded into our conversation in the tea-store. He was talking in an unnecessarily exaggerated high tone.
I didn't actually understand anything. Many people were looking at us.
I looked at Rizwan Sir's face. He was apparently irritated and embarrassed.
"How could we hit him, Saththar Nana, when you are there to hit him?"Rizwan Sir said smilingly, "come and sit, Saththar Nana. Let’s have a cup of tea".
Sattar Nana joined us.
Rizwan Sir was talking to him customarily.
"Who is this? A new face. Never seen ever before", Satthar Nana asked Rizwan Sir, showing me.
"Oh, I am really sorry. I forgot to introduce you. He is our new staff - Shibly. Shibly, this is Saththar-Nana. One of the really important people in Marudur".
Rizwan Sir introduced us to each other.
“So, you have started your first day extremely greatly”, Satthhar Nana said laughingly. He meant today’s incident.
"Where are you, Thambi?", Saththar Nana asked me while tasting a short-eats.
The word ‘Thambi’ literally means ‘younger brother’. It is obviously an acceptable word to address someone younger than you. However, addressing a teacher calling ‘Thambi’ was somewhat awkward.
From the first minute I sat my feet in Marudur to this minute, I have been addressed respectfully by the title ‘sir’. People who are of my father’s age like Thajudeen Nana addressed me as ‘master’. Even Fahim sir and many other senior teachers like Chandrasekara sir and Raja sir called me ‘sir’.
It does not mean I was expecting everyone to call me ‘sir’. Rather, it is just something that exists within the custom. Male teachers are addressed as ‘sir’. Female teachers are addressed as ‘teachers’.
It doesn’t matter what your age, social background or seniority is. It is the dignity of the profession. Not of the individual.
When Saththar Nana called me ‘Thambi’, It really sounded out of norm and non-respectful.
“Where are you, Thambi?”
I said my village name.
“Trainee teacher? or a graduate teacher?”. These are the two most popular teaching appointments here.
“Graduate appointment”, I said.
“Studied science?”
“No… Economics special”.
“Didn’t you try to go abroad?”, Saththar Nana asked me.
Working abroad is an attractive career option for local youth. When converted into local currency, the wages earned abroad, even with unskilled work, could be remarkable. Youth working abroad have a significant demand in their matrimonial market.
“Didn’t you try to go abroad?”. Saththar Nana was asking me questions one after another. I felt like I was being investigated.
“Both my parents are teachers. So, I always wanted to be a teacher. I never had an idea of going abroad”, I said shortly.
“If not thinking now, when are you going to think? Teaching is like this. Same salary till you retire and the same life”, Saththar Nana said as if commenting on a cricket match. He drank another mouth full of tea.
Why is this man putting his nose into things that are none of his business? I was so irritated. I looked at Rizwan Sir's face. It was reddened and he swallowed anger with the short-eats.
“My son is in Qatar. He gets more than three lacks.”
“Your son?”, I asked.
“Yes. My own son”, after breathing he continued, “he studied in Colombo. You know, boys don’t study advanced levels in Colombo. It is time-wasting. He did ordinary level and did an accountancy course of some sort. Then, Flew”.
“Flew” means he went abroad.
Saththar Nana continued.
“I have my own business. He thinks he should earn on his own. So, we have to respect his freedom, don’t we?”
Saththar Nana sounded like telling me to take his son as a role model. I remained wounded and speechless. He was putting a life treatment plan of mine in front of me, without knowing anything about myself.
Saththar Nana and Rizwan sir were talking about some of the other things.
Saththar Nana forcefully paid the bill. We came out of the small restaurant.
“How did you get here? Any vehicles…?”, Saththar Nana asked.
“No, we came by a Three-wheeler”.
“Is it waiting?”
“No. I have to call him; he will come to pick-up ”, said Rizwan Sir.
“Let’s go in my vehicle. I will drop”.
“Why should we bother you, Saththar Nana?”
“You are going to get down on my way. I am not going carry you two in my hands. How could you bother me? anyway the vehicle is going to travel empty”
We got into Saththaar Nana’s vehicle. It was the latest fabulously luxurious vehicle.
At first sight, I had thought Saththar Nana could be someone from Marudur working in that restaurant. His spoken accent was clearly indicating that his level of education is below average.
Only now I realized Saththar Nana could be an immensely rich man. It is not a rule that an uneducated person must be poor, as it is not a rule that an educated man must be rich. There may not be a strong correlation between being rich and being educated.
When I was a student, I was told by almost every teacher that getting a sound education is a guaranteed way of becoming rich. Unfortunately, It was not true. The reality was completely different.
Education should prepare us to be good citizens and honest human beings of integrity and ethical values.
Any other skills or knowledge gained for ‘material purposes’ would be simply commodities to be sold in the market. If those commodities do not have a market value, your education is useless.
Rizwan Sir was sitting next to Saththar Nana in the front seat. I was sitting behind. I was just reminded of the lift Thajudeen-nana gave me in his cycle, at my very first entrance into Marudur. It was a heart-touching experience and a grand reception.
Saththar Nana’s lift in his air-conditioned luxurious vehicle could never stand equal to Thajudeen Nana’s old cycle.
*****
Shibly came to Marudur at sunset the previous day. He never thought all these things would happen, when he stepped his foot here. He was exhausted. The events were too much for him, for a single day.
He was feeling homesick. Usually, his mother would give him milk-tea during the evenings.
He had not talked to his parents properly since he arrived here.
All he wanted was, going home, laying on his own bed, reading a book, and sleeping peacefully.
When returned to the quarters he watched the CCTV footage again. On the phone, it wasn’t so clear. He took the footage to his laptop and checked it again. Still, it was not so clear. The video quality was extremely poor. However, he could see the attackers were resembling remarkably to those two fourteen years old boys whom the principal had punished on that day.
The video was not original. Someone had recorded mosque surveillance camera footage of the nearby mosque, in his mobile and shared it. Original footage might be clearer than this. Shibly thought he must try to watch the original footage when he goes to Dawn prayer the next day morning.
Anyone watching the footage closely would be able to spot those two boys if Shibly could be able to spot them.
Those two boys may have impulsively tried to take revenge, for the punishment they received. Those fourteen years old boys are still kids by UNICEF definition. However, Shibly was not sure how empathetically they would be treated by Mardurians if they were ever caught.
He felt sorry for those two boys. They would have been spending their days with the guilt.
He prayed that it should not be those two boys. His doubts would be cleared mostly when he would watch the original mosque surveillance camera footage the next day morning.
It was just a matter of seven hours.
((To be continued))
_ _ _
* Characters, events and the places in this story are fictional and a mere product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real-world events or characters is merely coincidental.
** Vijayapura and Marudur are fictional places.
Riza Jaufer
Akurana -Kandy,
Sri Lanka
