 |
| Pa. Singaram |
Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam.
Chapter
14: Penang
…..
At Sunny
Mohammed Ravuthar’s shop….
The
accountant with a blue colour cap, sitting behind the table equipped with a
thick glass enclosure, greeted him while still busy with writing something on a
paper.
“Salaam!
I am coming from Medan, from Peeyanna Kaavanna shop”
“Salaam!
Have a seat” Abdul Khader rose and brought a stool lying near. “Aii…Kashim, bring
some water...run fast…You have come by boats? Haven’t you? How’s your journey?”
“Yes. I Came
by boats. Journey wasn’t bad anyway. Is the master here? My owner has given me a
letter to be handed over to him”
“Father is
upstairs. We can let him know”
Pandian
took out an envelope, placed it on the table. Abdul Khader took it in his hand
to open it but didn’t as he saw the inscription “To be opened only by the
addressee” on its cover. He kept the letter down on the table.
Kashim
brought a tea jug and some bags.
“Hei...Make
hot water immediately as he needs to have a bath. Keep all these boxes and bed
rolls upstairs and inform father that someone from Medan Peeyanna Kaavanna shop
has come to meet him.”
“I don’t
require hot water. Cold water will do”
“No…No…you
need it to get rid of tiredness from the ship journey” the accountant
intervened.
“O.K”
They had
tea.
The boy
collected the jug and cups and left.
A sound of
someone coming down the wooden steps was heard. With his long grey beard and a
white cloth cap sitting perfectly on his fully shaven head, Ravuthar appeared
in front of him.
“Salaam!”
Pandian got up.
“Salaam…Salaam…be
seated thambi….” Ravuthar sat down and told his assistants, “Ask them to bring
some water for our guest”
“Just a
while ago we had it” Pandian sat and held out the envelope.
‘Did you
ask him to make hot water?” he enquired as he received the letter, opened and
read it.
“It’s being
made”
Ravuthar
folded the letter, kept it in the cover and held it out to his son and asked
him to keep it in the safe.
“It’s nine
days of voyage. Isn’t it?”
“Yes…due to
cyclone en route, it had got delayed. We have thrown away some of the materials
into the sea”
“Insha
Allah…you all have reached safely. That is enough. Money doesn’t matter as
we can earn it anytime”
As they
heard about the ‘person from Medan’, the shop attendants and other shop keepers
enquired him about their relatives living in Medan. He explained everything.
Dropping of bombs, plunder etc- their conversation did grow longer. Ravuthar
cleared his throat and said:
“Thambi, it
gets late. First take bath and get yourself refreshed”
The crowd
thronged to see ‘Medan man’ slowly dispersed. Abdul Khader led Pandian to bath
room.
“My friend
has given me a letter for one Manikkam who is working in Thana Mera Estate as a
clerk. And I need to know about an attendant living in Kuala Kangsar”.
“All the
rubber estates are now with full of wild grasses grown everywhere. Manikkam is
my schoolmate. Now he is working in a Radio station here. We can meet him after
sometime. We have a shop in Kuala Kangsar. Our accountant is going there
tomorrow. He could bring us some information”
Pandian and
Abdul Khader went out in the evening. The bomb- struck buildings in Chetti Street
and Market Street on the way were standing in shambles. Some grocery bales were
found stacked up in the pawn shop buildings.
“Aththaa!
Where are you going?” asked attendant Chellaiah as he locked the pawn shop
owned by Aanaa Seenaa Vaanaa Yeenaa.
“Hei…man!
It seems the real native shoppers have been reduced to be at the mercy of
others. You see… even the petty pawn shoppers have become our competitors. Aren’t
they? Has Chithappa left the shop?”
“He went to
your shop and must have left for home from there”
A couple of
attendants and Muslim traders working in grocery shops went past, walked west.
The sound of pulling the latches to ensure proper locking was heard from the row
of shops in the opposite side.
“We have
received supplies from Sumatra. He is Pandian. He has just arrived in from
Medan”
Chellaiah
and Pandian greeted each other, folding their hands with a smile.
“He is
Chellaiah. His owner is very close to us. In a way he is related to us like our
father’s younger brother, Chithappa. We
are going to get our sister- my Chithappa’s daughter- married to this guy”
“Ok…Ok…enough
of your story telling. Let’s move”
They were
walking west, walking past shops and buildings crumbled in shambles. The
chariot house of Thandayuthabani Temple was found broken unidentifiably. No trace
of living sign of Hassan Hussain shop anywhere around. Then Came Sooliya Street1.
They turned to North. Sayeed’s shop was kept open with the plates full of
snacks, and tea cups. Three brothers were busy serving the customers. The
orders are informed to the kitchen inside with intermittent louder shouts- ‘Three
Appam, and Chicken roast, Two Dosa, and fish curry! Five Idiyappam, and coconut
milk.”
Then
crossed the street seemingly in slumber with its platforms lined up with wooded
materials stacked up. Black sparrows were crowding the tree branches, flying
over and below electric lines and screeching. A swarm of pigeons at “the Sea
Captain Mosque” was playing around.
Abdul
Khader stopped and said, “Let’s take an auto”
“Better we
walk. It will be relaxing to the longer confinement in the ship”
“Ok…we can
walk” Chellaiah told.
They walked
along Sooliya Street. The building in the left most corner had a coffee shop at
its bottom and a hotel upstairs. Silhouettes of men and women caught in sight behind
windows and were moving up and down the steps.
“The entire
business is gone. Only this business is running with its usual sheen”- said
Abdul Khader turning his eyes somewhere in the west.
“No matter
what happened, this business will go on without hassles” Pandian stretched out
Murat Cigarette he had brought from Medan. “This business is something born
with the humans. Other businesses are just man-made”
“No…I don’t
smoke” Chellaiah waved off his hand.
Abdual
Khader and Pandian pulled out a cigarette each and lit it up.
“Salaam
Alaikkum”- the man wearing a turkey cap, green colour blazer and a stripped
lungi greeted with his hands folded across his chest.
“Alaikkum
Salaam” Abdul Khader reciprocated his greetings.
Shops
selling slippers and medicines, tailoring shops, tin sheeted shops, remnants of
walls with thick undergrowth, thickly overlapping tonal sounds of Mandarin
language all around-on both sides were piercing through the ear drums. Varnished
Chinese tables brought in rickshaws to Hong Kong Hotel and Satin shirts
designed with floral patterns folded neatly were being taken inside. The sound
of ‘Majong” game was heard upstairs. Puvakui Cheng’s shop which had once been very
popular and selling for so many years the exotic items like pens, watches, and
leather boxes to Tamils who would return to their native places was now lying flat
without a sign of its existence.
“It is Puvakui
Cheng’s shop. Isn’t it?”
“Yes”
‘I had bought
a watch from Puvakui Cheng shop when I went back to my native place” -Pandian showed
his wrist.
‘Just only
one bomb shell. Everyone-his wife, children, and servants- died on the spot. He
had his house upstairs.”
They went
up in Penang Road and then turned. Odiyon cinema hall lay limbless. The
woman wearing jasmine perfume and green kemboja comes in front and
wriggles her body voluptuously. The people leaving Queens Theatre were
dispersing and walking scattered on roads.
A black
Jaguar car whooshed past fast towards east producing an enormous noise.
“He is
Major Ichiyama of Japanese Military Police.” Abdul Khader said. “Bloody bastard
he is”
Pandian turned
but the car disappeared in the Leith Street.
They walked
west.
The
jingling of cycle rickshaws grew louder. The Police Head Quarters building is
standing with the bruises of bomb shell. Winglok Restaurant and greyish Winsor
Drama which releases Tamil movies are busy awaiting with an appeal of cinematic
charm for the upcoming shows. The crowd of Tamils- both men and women- were thronging
there.
They took
turn in Burma Road. It is a blue colour house adorned with plant pots at Rex
Theatre, Madras Street. They climbed on the steps and went upstairs.
The young
man in white shirt and sandal colour pant standing in front of mirror with a
comb in his hands turned to them. Agreeably complexioned, his face exuded the
shine of knowledge.
Abdul
Khader introduced Pandian to him.
“You are
from Sinna Mangalam. Aren’t you? My mother’s birth place is Vengaipatti, just
near to it. “Do you know Rangathar Machakalai Konar? He is my uncle”- the young
man said.
“Good to
hear it. He is my uncle too. He used to come to our shop.”
They sat
around the round table.
Pandian
stretched out his hand, gave him the letter from Thangaiah.
Manikkam
opened the cover and read the letter. “Thangaiah is my school friend. This man
too…” he pointed to Abdul Khader and placed the letter on the table.
Manikkam
enquired about Sumatra Tamil people and voyage. Pandian explained everything.
“I have a
desire to travel in a wooden ship with sails. Let’s have a coffee in Ken Cheng”
“Okay…we
can leave” Chellaiah rose.
They went down
the stairs and left.
***Ended***
Notes:
1.
Sooliya- Cholas. It was known as Sooliyan in Chinese. Though initially
it denoted the people from Chola kingdom, it was later used to describe Tamil speaking
Muslims.
