It was Tuesday evening. In the partly constructed building upstairs of ‘Thajudeen Tea Store’, Minhaj finished his private tutorial class and got ready to leave.
There were only five boys in the class and they had already left once the class was finished. It has been just two weeks since Minhaj started taking these lessons.
Thajudeen Nana had urged Minhaj to make use of his building upstairs. “My shop building upstairs is vacant. You can start some classes here, son. In every nook and corner of this country, there are tutorial classes. By doing these classes, you can earn a fair sum of money as well. There are some students in my neighbourhood. You can start with them if you wish”.
Minhaj accepted Thajudeen Nana’s offer, as he did not have any reason to deny it. He loved the prospect of earning on his own, however small the sum was.
Thajudeen Nana came with a cup of tea along with the steps from downstairs before Minhaj rose up from his table to leave.
“Class is over, son? I saw the students leaving”.
“Yeah, it’s finished. Why are you bringing tea, Thajudeen uncle? It’s not necessary at all”, Minhaj was touched by Thajudeen Nana’s hospitality.
Thajudeen Nana came to Marudur from Jaffna as a refugee in the nineteen nineties. Minhaj’s family was one of the important families that supported Thajudeen Nana's family in every possible way during those bitter-filled days.
Minhaj’s father’s generosity meant a lot to Thajudeen Nana, for painfully reestablishing himself to the level of self-sufficiency. The brutal war had brought Thajudeen Nana’s financial position to zero from being a rich merchant in the northern peninsula.
Thajudeen Nana aimlessly came to Marudur empty-handed. Minhaj's father tremendously supported this family. Minhaj’s father had done those favours without the knowledge of even his own left hand.
Minhaj’s father was like one of Thajudeen Nana's old friends. He was a person of generosity who found his happiness in the smile on other’s faces. His sudden demise left Thajudeen Nana with great shock and deep-rooted wounds in his heart. It was like losing one of his own family members. Soon Minhaj’s family became bankrupt overnight and had been suffering.
Thajudeen Nana was helpless to do anything other than praying to God, in his midnight prayers.
“We can face starvation. Our stomachs could be hungry. Our mouths could dry out of thirst. But, something that we should never lose is our self-dignity. People lose their self-dignity the second they stretch their hands for begging from other people”, Minhaj’s father would always say.
Thajudeen Nana saw the same self-respect and dignity in Minhaj.
Minhaj was like a wounded lion. Everyone including a fox and a donkey dared to pinch him. But, he never lost his character of a lion, however harsh and severe the situation has been all these years. His moral integrity was what meant his courage and endurance.
“Thajudeen uncle, what are you thinking? Why are you bringing tea and all? I will just get home and have it”.
“Forget it, son. I am so pleased you agreed to conduct classes here”.
Thajudeen Nana sat on a plastic chair in front of Minhaj.
“Actually, I am the one who should thank you for giving me this opportunity”.
“No, son. Your father supported me a lot. May God show mercy on him. This is one of the least I can do to return his favour if I could ever do it”.
“Never talk about my father’s favours ever again, Thajudeen uncle. Never talk about it with anyone. It is between you, him and God”.
“What I tried to say is that my heart would feel content if you make use of this place”, said Thajudeen Nana, “if you want to hire other teachers, it is up to you. You can manage this place as your own business. You can keep the profit for yourself”.
“That’s not right. This place is yours. I put in my labour. Let’s share the profit”. Meanwhile, a vehicle was honking in the road down.
Thajudeen Nana got to the terrace and looked down at the luxury vehicle being parked.
“I think that is Saththar Haajiyar. I don’t know why. Let’s go down and talk”.
****
Minhaj and Thajudeen Nana got to the ground floor. Saththar Nana, a fabulously rich man in his fifties, was standing crossed-handed in front of the tea store. He was the ATM-man of MARUDUR FIRST, and its rich mouthpiece.
“Ah, here you go. Minhaj Thambi is here”, said Saththar Nana, with a mischievous grin, “what are you doing with this Jaffnese?”.
It is an understatement if we said Minhaj got angry. Minhaj struggled to pose himself calm and quiet with utmost strain.
“I think it is better if you mind your words, Saththar Nana”.
“Mind my words? Did I say anything wrong? So you have grown enough to warn me”, said Saththar Nana, “okay, what are you doing here?”.
Saththar Nana asked in an investigating tone that made Minhaj irritated.
“Just now I finished a private class upstairs”.
“Private class? What sort of private class? What subject are you doing?”
“Doing history classes, actually”.
“But, you have studied sociology. How could you teach history?”
“Sociology is not in the school curriculum yet”.
“So you are teaching history?” asked Saththar Nana, “okay. Forget it. How much payment do you get?”.
Minhaj’s patience was crossing its boundary. Why should he give him all these details? But, he kept silent patiently.
“May I know whether you make all these inquiries for any of your kids, Saththar Nana?”.
“For my kids?”, asked Saththar Nana sarcastically. “I have two school-going daughters. They follow classes in Vijayapura. They are in English medium. Famous teachers from Colombo conduct their classes for them. I don't think you will be able to handle their lessons. It must be in crystal English”.
Minhaj had realized from the beginning that Saththar Nana’s visit was not coincidental. He is here for something of a mischievous purpose. Saththar Nana was just a rich-business man version of his uncle Shareek. It is pointless to talk to him unnecessarily. Minhaj decided to stick to the point.
“Then, may I know why you are asking these questions?”, Minhaj was trying to remain as formal as possible.
“You are coming to point straight. That’s fine. It’s like this. Most of our village folks are destitute. Educated people like you should provide these educational services free of charge”. What an extraordinary idea..!! Then, who on earth feeds me and my family?
“Great idea, Saththar Nana. I also have another idea to consider. Why don’t rich people like you come forward to sponsor poor students to continue their studies in my tutorial classes?”.
Saththar Nana remained silent for a few seconds. He was speechless and was too angry to utter anything.
“I say you are misusing your position at school. You are forcefully getting students down to your private classes here”, boldly accused Saththar Nana.
“Did you see me forcefully getting down any student?”
“No need to see these with my own eyes, Minhaj Thambi. Everyone knows that. That’s what happens everywhere”.
“Saththar Nana, I couldn’t figure out why you are trying to start this chaos with me right now”.
“I have enough useful things to do rather than fighting with a person like you. I just asked this because I am curious to know. After all this is our village. I care about everything that happens here”, said Saththar Nana impudently.
“So, what do you want to know?”.
“I think you misuse your position in the school”.
“Saththar Nana, I am merely a volunteering officer. I don’t have any positions. I don’t have the opportunity to mingle with students as a regular teacher does. I simply do clerical work most of the time sitting in the principal’s office”.
“Though you are a volunteer, you still get a salary, don’t you?”
“I think it’s better we stop at this point. This is not a healthy conversation. People are looking at us”.
Thahjudeen Nana, silently watching everything like a spectator for all this time, being afraid of uttering a word in front of Saththar Nana, now dared to speak. “Saththar Haajiyar, there are only a few students in the class. All of them are my neighbours. I am the one who asked Minhaj son to start this class. If anyone is guilty, then it’s me”.
“Noone is guilty, Thajudeen uncle. We did nothing wrong. Conducting a private class is neither against law nor against religion. Saththar Nana is the one who is putting his nose into things that are none of his business”, Minhaj uttered in a somewhat high-pitched tone.
Saththar Nana was ashamed. Many people in the street were still watching them. Saththar Nana's conversation with Minhaj did not move as it was planned.
“None of my business? How dare you say this?”, Saththar Nana got furious and pathetic, “You will pay for this...”.
Saththar Nana got into his luxurious jeep and raced the accelerator at an unsuitable speed for the bumpy Marudur roads.
Many people were watching. Thajudeen Nana knew all of them would approach Minhaj once Saththar Hajiyar left and would pose to Minhaj thousands of meaningless questions.
“Minhaj son, please go home quickly. We will talk about this later”, Thajudeen Nana told Minhaj in a hurry.
****
Wednesday.
His job in the school was not so significant to Minhaj. He was paid only a nominal allowance. It could not be called a salary at all. It was not a stable job either. He could lose the job at any moment.
Minhaj accepted the offer only to keep himself engaged with some sort of activity. He did not want to sleep at home after sunrise. He wanted to get out of home for work energetically every morning. It kept his spirit stronger and maintained his mental energy alive.
Losing his job was not something Minhaj did not expect. He knew the volatile nature of this job he had been doing. But, he did not expect it in the form of a sudden fire.
The principal called him this morning and said: "Mr Minhaj, you need not come to school today. You can collect your salary from MARUDUR FIRST and look for another job".
"I didn't get it, sir. Can you repeat it again?".
"You are fired, Minhaj", the principal sounded irritated. But, he seemed to like the word "fired". He doesn't often get the chance to pronounce this word, unlike many of his friends working as top-level managers in the private sector.
"Oh. Why, sir? Anything wrong?".
"Everything went wrong. You can clarify any of your questions with MARUDUR FIRST. They are the ones who pay you, aren’t they?".
"Is this decision anything to do with Saththar Nana, sir?".
"Look, Minhaj. I already told you to clarify your doubts with MARUDUR FIRST. I am busy right now. No time to talk. Bye".
****
For his first degree, Shibly specialized in Economics. But, He did not have any opportunity to teach Economics in Marudur School. Economics is an advanced level subject in the curriculum. It is not available for ordinary level students.
But, there were only four or five students in the advanced level classes in Marudur school. Economics was not one of their popular choices either. So Shibly was appointed to teach English.
For the first time in his life, he met some students without knowledge even in the English alphabet. It was shocking for him, although he had to admit the reality.
How come there are students without knowing the English alphabet in this former British colony?
Shibly’s grandfather (his dad’s father) wanted to make sure all his grandchildren speak English as a home language. So most of the people on his father’s side speak English as a home language.
English was not part of his mothers’ family. Many kids and adults on his mother’s side hated him merely because he spoke English.
Shibly came to school today after learning more techniques and plans for teaching English. His job was going to be more challenging than he expected. Inculcating a new language into kids who grew up in a monolingual home environment was not going to be easy. If you want to develop language proficiency in kids, you should start it from the houses. The school system is not sufficient. Even the few who develop English knowledge through school system, rarely achieve spoken proficiency. If the pupils can not maintain a conversation alive, what is the point of good grades in the language subject?
After his cousin Nifra’s wedding ceremony last Sunday, Shibly came back to Marudur on Monday morning. It was a terrible memory. I don’t want you to remind me again and again. I just want to forget. It was not anything other than a terrible scary dream.
Today is the tenth dawn since Shibly came to Marudur. It’s Wednesday. The school was unusual today. He could not spot many familiar faces whom he usually does not forget to greet in the morning. Rizwan sir, Fahim sir and Minhaj.
The fourth period was his off-time. He went to the staff-room to take a rest. Vijayasekara sir was sitting alone reading a book. He was a very friendly man in his late fifties. He teaches the Sinhala language. But, he speaks Tamil with fairly remarkable fluency. “There are many Muslims who speak Sinhala. But, there are a few Sinhalese who can speak Tamil fluently”, he would proudly say.
“Did you hear the news?”, Wijesekara sir asked him while Shibly was entering the staffroom in a whispering voice that only two of them could hear.
“No. I didn't check the news update this morning. Anything happened?”.
“No. not that sort. Three teachers have been transferred with immediate effect”.
“Transferred? Who?”
“Rizwan sir, Fahim sir and Habeeba Teacher”.
“Really?”, Shibly couldn’t digest it. “Why? Why did they got transferred?”.
Vijayasekara sir decided to disregard his question.
“Probably it is a political transfer”, he said with a deep sigh.
“Political transfer?”.
“These sorts of things often happen. It is part of politics and administration. Once I was transferred to Ampara”.
“Oh, it’s ironic”, Shibly said, “That’s why I didn’t see any of them this morning”.
“Then, this Minhaj. He is a very innocent boy”.
“What happened to him?”.
“He is your friend, isn’t he? Didn't he tell you anything?”.
“No, I didn't meet him. What, sir? What happened?”
“He got fired”.
Oh, my God? What’s going on here? Last week the principal was attacked, and just now everything has returned to normalcy. Why should these things happen again?
Rizwan sir got transferred with immediate effect.
Fahim sir got transferred with immediate effect.
Habeeba Teacher got transferred with immediate effect.
Shibly doesn’t know exactly whether this ‘transferred with immediate effect thing’ is legal or extralegal. These teachers were on the school premises yesterday.
Today they have been transferred to a faraway land. Maybe they would have started their job in their new school. Or maybe they are still travelling to their new destination. Maybe they are still in Marudur and would come to school to say goodbye.
Then, this Minhaj, Shibly’s help-minded friend. He got fired.
“If my calculation is correct, next will be Izzadeen sir. I think principal sir has already started taking revenge”, Vijayasekara sir told Shibly. “Shibly sir, you are just my son’s age. Never talk about this with anyone. Just pretend like you don’t have any idea of any sort about these things, understood? Getting transferred is a painful thing, son”.
****
During the sixth period, the principal called Shibly to his office.
“Mr Shibly, many people have run away from our school. You have more work now. From now onwards, you should look after Minhaj’s work. That idiot also ran away”.
Shibly was standing there speechlessly.
“Did you hear what I said? You should look after Minhaj’s works”
“What about my classes, sir?”.
“Forget about classes. For the time being, you are an administrative officer, understood?”.
“Yes, sir”.
“I know you and Minhaj are friends. Hereafter you shouldn’t have any contact with him. Got it?”.
“Yes, sir”. But, who are you to tell me about this?
“Even with Mr Rizwan and Mr Fahim”.
“Yes, sir”.
Shibly did not need any further evidence to convince himself that these are not other than political transfers.
“You know Mr Shareek, Shibly?”.
“Yeah, sir, Minhaj’s uncle?”.
The principal looked at him with burning eyes.
“I am talking about Mr Shareek, the secretary of MARUDUR FIRST”. The principal sounded as if they were two different persons with the same name.
“Yeah, sir. I know him”.
“Good. You must work with him closely. You must coordinate with him in all my MARUDUR FIRST duties. You know I am the president of MARUDUR FIRST, right?”. This thing probably falls outside Shibly’s official job description. But, he can’t argue. This is the principal’s dynasty. He makes his own laws.
“Why are you standing like dumb? Did you understand or not?”.
“Yes, sir. Yes. I am sorry”.
“You won’t have any teaching responsibility until another suitable person gets appointed”.
“Yes, sir”.
Shibly's parents had worked under many school principals in their career. Many of them were very innocent. Oftentimes these principals were unable to control their subordinates from influential backgrounds. Shibly had often felt pity for them. But, not about this man who was sitting in front of him, with eyes full of fire.
His mere presence was terrifying Shibly just like being in front of a gang leader, expecting anytime to get “fired”. He could do it within a single phone call. He could hear again what Vijayasekara sir had told him this morning. “Getting transferred is a painful thing, son”.
****
Thursday, Night
Hamdha’s Diary
My name is Hamdha Mohideen. Most of the people in the village recognize me by my father’s name. Because It was understandably far more popular than my maiden name. Only my friends and relatives know my real name. Most of the other acquaintances simply refer to me as “Mohideen Haajiyar’s daughter”.
Being a daughter of a powerful father has its own advantages (despite having some discomforts). I am often perceived with positive attributes simply because of my background. I do not have to take painstaking efforts to prove myself (most of the time). Because I am the daughter of someone who has already proved himself.
It is a remarkably different story for many of my friends. They have to prove themselves on their own. Most of them could hardly pass it though. Proving one's talent is not easy at all as it seems and it is so painful. It would take time. Unless they have a very appealingly sympathizing story to narrate.
Today is Wednesday night. When I came to Colombo last Sunday night, I was light-hearted.
The chaos in the village that had started after Shakira’s father got beaten, was almost over. My mom and I visited Shakira’s house for the first time in our life. We had a friendly chat.
There was hope for the problems of three generations, coming to a happy ending. Such miracles could happen only when ladies are involved.
Even Shakira was happy and friendly with me for the last few days. It is like a pleasant shower in a hot Arabian desert. She is not as arrogant as I had thought. She is a girl of pleasant nature.
I had a peaceful sleep for the last few days with tranquillity and contentment.
However, today’s news from the village was a blast. It has nothing to do with myself or my family, personally. Nevertheless, it is obviously part of the ongoing cold war.
Three teachers from the village school have been transferred with immediate effect. It doubtlessly looks like political transfers. All of them were supporters of the village leaders like my father. Then, Rushdha’s brother was fired from the school.
The word “fired” sounds absurd and ridiculous. Because he just volunteered for a minimum salary. It is ironic to say that he got fired. But, that is how the news has spread in the village. "Minhaj was fired from his post in the school".
The job was still something that was pumping a fair amount of cash for Rushdha’s family. For the whole day, she had been crying like a baby. Sometimes I feel sympathetic towards her. I wonder how all of her family members became either graduates or undergraduates with the prevailing financial troubles..!
Rushdha is such a good girl. I often think of suggesting to my mom to consider her as the bride to my elder brother. I would be fortunate to have a sister-in-law like Rushdha. But, does my brother deserve a good girl like her?
Not at all. He always looks for opportunities to flirt with girls. He does it impulsively and he has no self-control of any sort.
I often feel ashamed to have a brother like him. I wonder what type of girl would happen to be his wife.
I could never sacrifice my best friend’s life for the mere self-wish want of mine to have a good sister-in-law.
Rushdha said a similar thing about me last week.
“I will be the luckiest person in the world if Hamdha happens to be my sister-in-law”. Rushdha told Shakira when we were having our breakfast on our way back from Colombo. She said it when Shakira boldly accused me of having a crush on Rushdha’s brother. I still remember how awkward the moment was. Rushdha actually told this to shield me.
My mom was not happy at all with what Rushdha said. She started hating Rushdha from the moment onwards than she hated Shakira.
Was my mom correct? Has Rushdha got any hope I might get married to her brother Minhaj? I do not know. I cannot be sure.
I just now, a few minutes ago, had thought of proposing Rushdha for my elder brother. If I can do it, why can’t she? Moreover, she is my best friend. She knows me well enough just like I know her very well.
Could things work in that way? Is it possible? Sometimes my heart tries to fly above the clouds.
I have heard Minhaj is a genuine hard-working man. Not like my elder brother who is always looking for girls to flirt with.
How do I know about all these things?
That is how village girls gossip. They were in fact right when it came to my brother. It must be probably right when it comes to Rushdha’s brother as well. Girls have a good sense of judgement in these matters.
What does Minhaj look like?
I don’t remember. I can't recall his face.
I didn’t feel any sort of infatuation towards him so far. Then, there is a huge gap in terms of financial status between both of our families.
It is difficult to say how my parents would react to such a thought.
My mother had already warned me of having any sort of such hopes. My dad rarely makes any decisions without discussing them with my mother.
My marriage is a matter of grave importance to both of them. Dad would never take any unilateral decisions. So, marrying Minhaj is something that is not going to happen, at least under the prevailing conditions.
Let me perish the thought.
I can't fight with my parents. I don't want to fight with my parents. I will never fight with them. They are the best parents in the whole world. I love them. However, at this moment, Rushdha’s family needs my support. Her brother has already lost the humble job he had been doing.
My father would definitely do something if I told him. But, I feel awkward talking about Rushdha’s family with him.
My parents always have open communication with each other. My mother would already have told him about what happened in the restaurant. So, how would my father take it, if I talk to him about Rushdha’s family? Nonetheless, I must do something. Rushdha terribly needs my support at this crucial time. I can’t be helpless.
I have to do something.
I dialled my brother who works in the capital city.
((To be Continued...))
_ _ _ _ _ _
Previous chapter: chapter 15 - cool water for my thirsty heart
Next Chapter : chapter 17 - business trip
* 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
