February 23, 2009

Almost lost and almost recovered - Chapter 2

Extreme passion?
A heaven turns hell
and you bid farewell


That very day when Shanti named her baby, five hundred miles away from Tanjore, on the island of Srilanka, Shyama was reading Sengaialiyan's* Muttathu Ottaipanai when she heard the hue and cry from outside. She could sense the reason, for it could be nothing but another military attack on the village which was considered to be a hiding spot of the terrorists according to the army and yes the village was indeed one and Shyama herself was the wife of a Liberation soldier. The bullets from a machine gun were traveling through the bodies of her neighbours lifting them and pushing them back into the walls of their home. The soldiers missed out Shyama who was hiding inside a narrow passage between the two homes. Shyama was so used to losing her dear ones that the loss ceased to penetrate deep into her conscience. Her aghast eyes emptied the final few drops of salted water she had in store. Seven years ago she had lost her mother and father in a similar attack. And Mathivanan. 

How could she ever forget him. He was the only soul she had for herself. She had not yet recovered from his loss. They were a happy couple until three months ago when Mathivanan confessed that he belonged to the liberation army and that he was to play a suicide bomber in their next plan of attack. She would have been with him by now if not for his priceless gift to her, a mass formed of a passionate combination of both their genes, a mass that would have started breathing by the time he sacrificed his life, a mass that was now fully grown with hands and legs cuddling inside her womb, a mass herself and Mathivanan had dreamt of creating a doctor from. So much so Mathivanan was still lingering in her thoughts. No one second would pass without thinking of him. 

The whole village was shattered to pieces. Undoubtedly everyone was dead. Now that the village was nothing but a huge pile corpses of her neighbours, relatives and enemies, Shyama had no choice but to abandon her land and reach the shores on the other side. She did not want her baby to suffer a similar fate. She heard someone moaning in pain by the time she reached the end of the village. It was Malli, a 16 year old cousin of hers. She was dying. The lower half of her body was drenched with blood. When the innocent people surrendered their lives to the bullets of the machine gun, the prettiest of the girl lot encountered the worst of fates. Gang rapes were a common phenomenon while such attacks took place. Only death could free Malli from her suffering. Without a second thought Shyama crushed Malli's throat and left her to rest in peace. 

She joined a group of people ready to flee to India from the nearby villages that were equally affected. After 2 hours of fearsome journey over the Indian Ocean their boat reached the shores of Rameshwaram. Shyama had her labour pains that very instant. She had awaited this moment for long. It was a baby girl. They were taken to the refugee camp nearby and their names were registered in the ledger. It was time to obtain a birth certificate for the baby. The officer in charge asked for the baby's name. 

"Mathi", Shyama could not think of a better name.
"Malar", she also thought of how much Mathivanan has wished to name the baby Malar.

Name : Mathi Malar
Place of birth: Rameshwaram
Date of birth: 07.11.1987

Authorized signature.

Malar's birth certificate was made. Shyama's baby was now an Indian citizen born on Indian soil and would never have to go back to that cursed place.

Mathi Malar, almost an Indian by birth and almost a Srilankan by heredity.


Sengaialiyan : A famous Srilankan Tamil author.


  1. Wow... the last line just took my breath away... not only is it brilliantly written, it also perfectly describes the plight of the fleeing Lankans right now...

  2. @akansha
    am humbled :) Thanx for droppin by

  3. Extremely beautiful!

    every line was beauty, every paragraph was drenched with sadness! I loved it beyond anything!

    the sad ordeal of being tortured! the shedding of last salt beads!

    and most importantly the first three lines of this post!!!!!!!! please write more and quick!!!!!!

    I adore the prologue, I get it now! I so get it now!

  4. Too good Nan ... 1 suggestion .. link the previous link too here .. so new reader dnt have to search much ...

  5. yepp prats di
    i was thinkin of doin the same :)

  6. Great flow,emotion..something writing from the heart!!

  7. Superb writing, nice narration :)

    That was a damn good effort.

    way 2 go nan ;)

    keep it comin...

  8. @ Hashan
    :) Thanx buddy

    humbled :)

  9. i am loving it.. tragedy makes to story more closer to heart i dont knw why... bring the rest soon...cant wait..

  10. wow nan...that was as powerful as the first one....every word is so beautifully weaved into the narrative...a perfect flow...it is flawless....way to go nan...way to go...this one is surely straight from the heart!

  11. @Ani

    :) ill post soon

    :) Thanx a ton :) ur comments mean so much to me :)

  12. Sorry for being late Nandini.. :)

    But hey.. wonderful write up.... This series takes my imagination to a whole new world.... :)

    If i can suggest- If the violence was better pictured it would have been more effective... I somehow couldn't feel the people dying or the violence there....
    But again.... I might be the only one who felt so...

    nandini gaaru... series chaala baaga saaguthundi... hehe


  13. RJ anna
    :P the series is not about the violence so i guess this much of it would do :) I just want the readers to feel some sadness in the birth of the second protagonist and understand the contrast between both the naming ceremonies.

  14. yeah.. The sadness is felt when - for instance - when u explain how unfortunately a person died than just saying he died.. tats wat i meant.. no offense meant.. nandini gaaru.!!

    But yeah..!! I could totally understand the contrast between the naming ceremonies of the two.. :)



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