Prakash

I started my two wheeler and honked twice to flush my sisters out of the house. Those brats really should be made to walk to their school. I have to drop these princesses and then go to my class, I muttered. Preetham and Prathima rushed out and climbed the pillion giving the bike a good rock and wedging their lunch bag between my feet. “Can’t you both come on time,” I yelled, but got only silly giggles as answer. They made it to their school on time, but I had to rush in just before the gates shut. 

I returned home to the smell of coffee and dropped on the settee. Quietly I sipped my coffee watching mom weaving in and out of the kitchen, placing snack packets on the coffee table. 

“Prakash, did you know that there are new tenants in the neighbourhood?” 

“Do you mean the huge green bamboo gate house? How I wished we lived in that big house with trees and flowering bushes all around.” Mom gave me a friendly glare. I was always dreaming of living in that house.

“ But how is it possible mom that we did not hear any noise of people shifting in, last night? Maybe they are a small family and did not have much cargo to transport.” 

The girls came bubbling with excitement. “You won’t believe us Anna. There are foreigners in that house. They look like real dolls and are so cute. I saw them in the garden. I will make friends with them, for sure.”

 “Don’t be hasty, child. We should not get too close to people from another country. They have different cultures, and we don't know who they are and why they are here,” mom added.

Replying, “No worries amma, we will get all the details,” she went dashing to the gate. I could see her already, waving to someone. 

A week had gone by, with no news from  my sisters who were silent about the new neighbours. I too did not see anyone. That Sunday Preetham said that they did see a few girls and ladies, who were talking among themselves. When she said hello to them they just gave a vacant stare. All her hopes of making new friends vanished when she realised none of them spoke English. I chuckled to see her disappointed looks. At last it was mom who told us that they were Vietnamese. The house broker had given her that information only and nothing more. 

I had read in the papers that the South Vietnamese were fleeing from their country when they had lost the war to North Vietnam. They were settling as refugees in Canada, Australia and in South East Asia. I told the girls that there was fierce guerilla warfare happening in Vietnam. Thanks to my history teacher for updating us on current affairs too. I remember Miss Celine mentioning that   the Vietnamese Refugee problem in the late 70’s  was the most crucial one ever faced in the world. I was in the 11th standard and history was my favorite subject, mostly because Mrs. Celine presented the lesson with a lot of related stories. 

I shared with them all the facts I knew of the war. But of the people next door there was no clue.  Me and my siblings’ favourite pastime was to observe the newcomers  and share notes. Prathima watched a huge vehicle outside their gate the next week and called out to us. We wondered, as we stared at an endless queue of men, women and kids walking out and boarding the van. There would have been 25 or more. We were shocked. Were there so many in the house and we did not hear voices? Were they keeping a low profile? What are they up to? My mom again warned us to be wary of people who are alien to the city. It did scare us a bit.

Preetham said, “They all have the same features: small eyes, pearl colour satin skin and silky hair down to their hips. We thought we were seeing the same ladies”. We laughed at our own foolishness. Did you see how so many in black pants went in a queue to board the van. It looked like black ants making a line to the sugar jar, she added. This set us rolling in laughter. Also, when you hear them talk in that nasal voice of theirs, with alternating high and low modulations with a lot of emotions, they sound like a bunch of squirrels having a Parliament session. This statement produced more giggles.

“You know Alan, the Anglo Indian guy behind our house. He told me they eat snakes and all sorts of creepy creatures. He actually saw them with a bag which had something moving in it,” was my contribution to the discussion. 

“ Yuck!” pronounced my sis wrinkling her nose, and added, “I tell you they must smell awful.” My mother intervened and reprimanded us for making mean statements. “They are guests to our country. We should never be judgemental about their culture. They might be more hygienic and healthier than any of you guys. We can either help them or just stay away.” That made sense to me.

Prakash, when you can reel out history facts so well, I wish you would pay more attention to maths and science, rather than waste time with these silly girls. I am worried about your Board exams, mom added.

Our whole street was abuzz with weird stories about the Green gate house. We could actually see people walking past the house just to take a peek in. The house actually looked much prettier now. One flat nosed guy had scraped the paint peeling off from the bamboo gate and had repainted it a pastel green. Flower pots were neatly lined on both sides giving the place more fragrance and colour. Ladies could be seen bustling in and out busy with their daily chores. They all wore smart black silk pants. Must be their National wear, like mom wore sarees. All of them looked tidy and smart. I was sure they would not smell of fish.

On Monday evening I went to the bakery down the road to buy some potato snacks. The sales boy Cheenu  asked me if I wanted to buy cakes too. I said ‘No’. He insisted saying it was Vietnamese cake and tasted good. Was fresh too. I asked him the price of a piece of cake and left. My sisters opened their mouths wide in surprise when I told them.  “You should have returned the snacks and bought the cake”, they admonished me. Why didn’t I think of it? 

While returning the next day from school I automatically slowed down near the shop. I saw a familiar face from next door. Cheenu waved his hand, asking me to stop.  I went inside and Cheenu explained that he was unable to explain to the lady about the price he could pay for it. A full 10” cake was Rs.13. He had cut it into 20 pieces and could sell it for 65 paise per piece. This was the best he could do. I explained this to her in English and she nodded her head. She asked me with pleading eyes if I could bargain with him for a better price. 

I knew he was fleecing her. I told her that I shall ask my mom to speak to the owner, since we have known him for several years. She gave me a friendly smile and thanked me profusely. I introduced myself as ‘Prakash’ and she said her name was Sun Yong. I waved my hand and left for home, my heart beating fast with excitement. I waited for my sisters to come back from school. She looked very radiant with ivory skin, dark arched eyebrows and curly eyelashes. She gave me a friendly smile showing white, even teeth. 

 My sisters entered, bringing me out of my reverie,  fighting with each other as usual.  Today’s topic was  whose turn it was to wash the lunch boxes. I told them, “Hush girls, why talk about mundane things when there is so much news with me. That put the brakes on the fight. I told them that I had been the translator for the young lady at the bakery and how Sun Yong was my friend now. They decided to convince mom to help her in her business. Mom agreed happily.

We all got a chance to speak to Sun Yong the next Sunday. When the doorbell rang at 11 am, we were slouching on the sofa, refusing to budge. Mom glared at us and opened the door. She was all smiles when she said “Come in” and turned to us saying “look who has come.” We had a pleasant shock when we saw Sun Yong with a cake tray. She said “Thankyou Amma for your help,”  and folded her hands and bowed to Amma. It seems she got a good deal from the shop and she wanted us to recommend it to friends.

My mother offered her coffee; my sisters were shy and dumbfounded for once. Sun Yong told us that she had finished her schooling in Vietnam when the country lost the war, and many families had to leave to safer countries, which were willing to take them in. Of course her smaller siblings are being taught at home. There were five families in the house and all of them assigned tasks for themselves and managed the household. My mom and sisters listened eagerly. I felt very sorry for her, but we could see a constant smile on her face as she  related the events during their flight  from their homeland to Chennai, the capital of the State of Tamilnadu in India. A courageous girl indeed!

I heard you all calling her ‘Amma’ so I too did the same, she said pointing to my mom. Mummy’s face lit up with a smile and she gave her suggestions of how to improve her sales. “My children have convinced all their friends to buy your cake. I will make a card giving details of cake , flavour and cost, and place it on the counter,” mom assured her. She gave mom a hug with a twinkle in her eye and bid us bye. We were all quiet for some time. I was thinking how she is doing her bit for the family. “She did not smell of fish at all,” concluded Preetham.

I was thinking of the sadness that crossed her eyes when she said that her siblings could not attend school. Battling the ravages of the aftermath of a war would have been such a pain. Fleeing your Motherland to some alien place would have been such an emotional drain.

I was put in the best school in the area. Studying at ‘St. Bedes’ has a prestige of its own. My dad was working somewhere in the North of India and could visit us once every three months. Mom communicated through letters and the occasional phone calls. All these thoughts weighed heavily on my heart. I decided I should be thankful for all the luxury I am enjoying. I walked away from the TV and went into the study room. 

My mom and sisters were really wondering why I did not slouch on the sofa and chat with them. Instead, I was studying! I too could not explain why. But, I felt so much happier that I have realised my priorities. Sun Yong had ushered in a sense of responsibility in me. I was grateful for that. 

Sun Yong came home often, and discussed something or the other with my sisters. My mom told me she has taken to wood carving, which she used to display in a small studio she had owned in her hometown. One Sunday she came home and gave me a picture of the sun carved in a 3mm piece of wood, painted in different hues of yellow and orange. It was an amazing piece of workmanship. 

“You told me your name means ‘Bright light ', my name is Sun. Remember me when you see this. You will have a bright future.” My eyes were moist with tears. Did I ever dream of getting so much concern from someone whom I have not known for long. I hung my head to hide my tears; also the guilt I felt for teasing her family. 

Preetham told me in the evening that the bakery did not have Vietnamese cake. It has been a week since Sun Yong sent any, she added. I had sent her  to buy one to take with me for the annual trip our class was going to. Just a two day affair which we boys always look forward to. This time I did not feel excited about staying away from home for two days. Maybe I was upset about my study plans. I laughed the moment that thought came in. Come on Prakash, don’t give lame excuses, I told myself. I set to packing my bag for the trip. I did not see Sun Yong after she gave me the Sun carving. She is always busy, but drops into our house whenever she could take a little time off. I wanted to tell her that her gift was my lucky charm. My grades were exponential in all subjects.

The morning I was to leave for school for my trip, I was out at the portico checking my bags when I heard the gate open and Sun Yong rushed in with a small box. It was hot. She thrust it in my hands saying it was cake for my journey and she had baked it this morning for me. My sis had told her she could not find any in the shop. She held my hands tight and planted a soft kiss on my hand. I was shocked and looked around to see if anyone had seen it. She laughed at my perplexed face and teased me.

“Bye Prakash. All the very best,” she added. She let go of my hand and turned to go away. Did I see a streak of sadness? I stood rooted and followed her with my eyes, till she entered her green gate.

The very first thing I noticed on my return after the trip was the big lock at the green gate. They have never gone out all at the same time, except for the one time they had to go to the Embassy. Mom and the girls will know. As I entered my home, mom and the girls came out to greet me with only half a smile on their face. “Coffee is ready, Prakash. Preetha, you help anna with the bags.”

Her tone did not sound right. I raised my eyebrows a little. My sister responded with a shrug of her shoulders. I missed the avalanche of questions from my sisters. Something did not sound right. I tried to play with the solemn show. Mother came into my room and asked how my trip was and did we friends enjoy it. I replied that it was fun, but I missed home. Mom quickly went out with one of them following her. I then asked why the green gate is locked. Preetham, sitting next to me, looked at me, tears flowing down her cheeks. 

“Don’t start again now, Preetham. Prakash, I have been having a tough time with these two. You, being a more mature boy, have to tell them to understand the realities of life. They were good people, Sun Yong especially, was very close to us. But they have to do what is best for them. They got their visa to Canada and have left our country.” She stopped abruptly and looked at me.

I was shocked even to react. What! Left! Without even a word. I could not assimilate what was happening. But my mother expects me to react better than my sisters. I just touched my sister’s head trying to pacify her. All the energy was sapped out of me in an instant. My legs felt like jelly, and I fell on my bed. My mom followed me in, but I closed my eyes. She left without a word, shutting the door behind her. 

It felt like a long time since I saw her last. I tried to remember; She gave me the glowing Sun model…. Be bright like the sun she said… She even kissed my hand in the portico. It struck me now that it was a Goodbye. Why did I not realise that it was a poignant moment for her. I just responded to her with my stupid grin. 

My mom entered the room wiping her hands in her saree and sat next to me and rubbed my shoulders. I broke down and sobbed loudly, hugging her. All my resolve to act mature  collapsed, like me. 

“I hate war. Why should nations fight amma? People are all the same. See how we looked at that family differently when they settled here, but how it changed when we got to know them. Mummy I hate the leaders who are responsible for wars. People have no difficulty living in harmony. Heartless politicians. I hate their tribe,” I blurted between loud sobs. “People need to throw out leaders who declare war,” I spoke with rage, tears streaming down my face.

Mom just patted me and quietly cried with me. I felt like the Sun had set in my Life.

~*~

Sun Yong

The very first day I landed at the house at Santhome, Chennai with my extended family, I knew I would not be happy here. In a sea of people of a different culture, dress, language and mannerisms, how are we going to fit in?

I sat curled up at a Bay Window in the huge house and cried softly.

The horrible experiences of the past month in war riddled Vietnam, waiting for the day my father and uncles would find a country where we could settle safely without fear of being bombed or raped, sent a chill down my spine. Is this our family’s collective Karma that we are facing deportation? We were a simple and contented family.  We uphold all the values of our community - to respect elders, to speak kindly to others, be affectionate and honest. Why had we to face such harassment and disgrace? It is indeed shameful to be an uninvited guest in another country and impose ourselves on them. How long will our resources hold and what jobs we can take up. I am the only one who could speak English.  The future was a maze of untrodden paths, when the elders in the family announced that we would leave for India. Things were arranged for us to reside at a place called Chennai. 

We walked catlike within our house; we were asked to be careful and keep a low profile till our registrations with the Embassy were completed. I liked the weather here, as of now. We got our papers. I chose to ignore the overhanging clouds of doubts and uncertainty. Let me draw the silver lining, I decided with a smile. I started by clearing the portico and rearranging the potted plants. I sat at my table to complete the woodwork carving I had started before we left. I discussed with my aunt and mom if we could resume the baking we did back at home. Both had a wide grin on their faces, the first I saw in recent times.

The next day I uttered a silent prayer to Buddha and set out to the nearby bakery. While the sales boy and man at the counter gaped at me, I tried to explain to them that I wished to keep my cake at the counter.  The boy quickly beckoned to someone outside. A smart curly haired boy came in and gave me the most friendly smile and said, “Hello, you need any help?” I made a slight bow. Though he was a young adolescent, he was God to me now. I quickly explained what I wanted. I heard the other two giggle. He glared at them and translated what I had said. He was the first ray of hope since I came here. We discussed some more and went out. We introduced ourselves and parted ways. 

The deal with the bakery was finalised with the intervention of his mom. I took her a cake the next day. I took an immediate liking to the two girls in pigtails. Such mischievous eyes and full of love. I knew this family was going to be a great salve for my aching heart.

When I showed all my carvings to them- small miniatures of comic characters in wood,  traditional wall hangings, intricate mirror holders, vases, and souvenirs, the girls and their mother were amazed. Amma quickly told me a plan to find buyers for these. When I shared this with my family they looked at me with pride. My uncles got a job at a motor spares manufacturing company, where there were several who had come here earlier. I breathed a sigh of relief that everything was falling in place. We could finally see sunlight, after having been huddled in a tunnel for long.

Tomorrow was the beginning of the Lunar Year. We need to have prayer ceremonies, and prepare traditional sweets. We also planned to go to the beach in the evening. That afternoon my uncles asked me to take some sweets for the family next door and thank them for all their help. I was surprised. I gladly walked into their house when Amma was herself carrying a tray filled with some rice and snacks. 

She welcomed me in and I bowed to her and told her the New Moon of that month was our Lunar New Year. It was also a tradition to think of all the elders in the family who have left this Earth. She showed great surprise and said that the New Moon of that month was also auspicious for them, when they pay their respects to the dead souls in the family and get their blessings. I was struck by the similarities in our beliefs. I held her hand and sat quietly thinking about the fears I had about coming here. I said a silent prayer that our association should last.

Two weeks later after I completed a batch of my next carvings I took the cake I had reserved for aunty and the girls. I also picked up a carving of our temple in Vietnam, a colourful and invigorating design in bright colour combinatons with tiny bells added. I looked at myself in the mirror and liked the brighter version of myself.

I met them seated at the couch, having coffee. The place was quiet with no chattering. “Amma, can I come in for coffee?”. She was so elated and rushed in to bring me a cup saying, “This is the first time you have asked me for coffee”. I gave her the carving and the girls their cake. Both spoke loudly at the same time, praising the gift with their mouth full with cake, so I started laughing. Amma  started scolding them that it was ill-mannered to talk when they were having cake, that too when there was a guest.  “Sun Yong is not a guest. She is our akka,” both shouted in unison. I sat down and we had an interesting conversation on how we have become so close in such a short time. Amma added that she was a little sceptical about her daughters making friends so quickly. 

“ In the end, all that matters is what you are as a person, rather than where you are from. I feel so comfortable with you just as I am with Preetham and Prathima; only that you are more responsible than them,” said amma.  

“ Your children are all too good at heart, amma. I am lucky to have met you.”

I bowed to her and kissed the girls and made my exit. Tears welled up in my eyes thinking of tonight. My family had cleared up the whole house and the neatly packed packages and suitcases stood at the hall. There was not much. After all we have to be on the move where destiny takes us. For now we were moving to Canada where more of our clan had found refuge. It was the original plan, but I did not expect things to happen so soon.  Why did I have to meet the family next door, especially the sunny faced Prakash with his halo of curly hair and such loving eyes. I had met him the day before and said my ‘goodbye’ though he did not know it was. It pained my heart to think how that young adolescent boy would be emotionally affected by the abrupt end to a friendship. Though he was more mature than when I first met him, he is still at a vulnerable age. His family will surely take care of him, I assured myself.

I walked like a zombie checking our baggage and then sat down to inspect our travel documents. Everything was right except for me. I cannot explain what emotions I had for Prakash. Was he just a friend to me, if not, was anything else remotely possible, if given time.  We were separated by oceans but why do I feel that we have been on the same shore for ages.  

It was 12.30 pm and I heard the van. My uncles and cousins loaded the van. All of us climbed into it.  Not a single noise but for the engine running. When the van moved away I turned back to take a last look at the house, clutching the card having Prakash’s address and phone number. 

You are the Light of my life Prakash.    

Glossary for words in Tamil:

Amma   -     Mother
Anna     -      Elder brother
Akka      -      Elder sister