Thoondal: The Flower in the Thorny Bush of War

Written By: Shayanika Suresh

Photo Credits: Tiki-ilio

Photo Credits: Tiki-ilio

As he lay in her arms, still and quickly turning cold, she could hear screaming voices and people sobbing. At first, the cries seemed closer to her, but now they grew distant, and quieter. She could feel his hand slightly graze her bare skin, as he tied the thali around her neck. She could feel the soft petals of flowers fall on her braided hair and small shoulders. She picked one up and gently sniffed its sweet smell. How she had dreamt of this day as a child. Selvan was her warrior, her hero. Everything had happened so quickly. The quick glimpses of a cute boy, who always seemed to be near her house. The smiles, and the gazes. The little love notes that she burnt as quickly as she read them, not forgetting to remember each and every line. Finding corners and tree shades to be in the presence of each other. Being close enough only to imagine the feel of each other, and now, they were finally together. Their guests ate their fill and slowly returned to their homes, stalling to repeat their wishes, and to say their goodbyes to friends and families.

Night had fallen, and now, it was just Selvan and her, Mrs. Mahalakshmi Selvarajan. She smiled shyly as she remembered that night. Selvan had eventually fallen asleep, and she had rested her head on his chest. Listening to his heart beat, her eyes closed and soon she was fast asleep, when suddenly, there was a loud explosion, and a heart-wrenching scream. Her heart missed a beat and she sat up. Selvan was already at the bedroom window looking out onto the street. They could hear the neighbours also waking up to the noise. The whole ground was shaking now. She looked at Selvan, and in that gaze, they both understood. He embraced her quickly to comfort her and ushered her into the bunkers behind their house. Their neighbours had already gathered there, hastily shoving their children into the bunkers before going in themselves, and whispering instructions to each other. Some of them looked up as Selvan and Maha came, and their expressions mirrored the couple’s emotions. They had barely begun their life together, and they were already at death row. Quietly, Selvan nudged Maha into the bunker, and got in after her. The shelling had started and the ground above them shook. Selvan pulled Maha into an embrace and held her to keep her calm. The infants had started to cry in fear, and their mothers were trying to comfort them, when suddenly a young mother began to sob loudly, screaming to be let out of the bunker. It soon became clear that she had thought her husband had picked up their baby from the cot and she had hurried to the bunker. She began to hit herself on the chest repeatedly and the older women around her tried to console her.

Maha could feel Selvan’s hold loosen and she looked up into his eyes. What she saw scared her, but she couldn’t say the words to stop him. She could only wish that he wouldn’t, but she knew Selvan well. She knew that, at this moment, nothing could stop him, not even her. Her heart screamed in pain, but her lips remained sealed. He kissed her softly on her head and swiftly climbed up towards the top of the bunker before anyone there could realize what he was about to do.  At the entrance to the bunker, he paused, listening for the pattern of shelling. He jumped out as the others in the bunker screamed after him. ‘Selvan! Selvan!’ She closed her eyes shut, placed a hand over her heart and prayed to every deity she could think of. It seemed like he was gone for hours. She embraced herself for the worst, but hoped for all to be well. She heard hurried footsteps on the ground above, and she opened her eyes, looking towards the entrance to the bunker. Some of the older men moved towards the entrance, and one man stretched his hands out. Maha could see Selvan’s arms handing over the infant. Everybody smiled as the infant reached the man’s hands and suddenly, there was a loud explosion. The ground shook and everyone fell onto the floor of the bunker. Maha followed suit but stretched her neck to see beyond the bunker. There was no one in sight, and she knew.

The screams and cries were getting louder now, and she opened her eyes to see the people around her. Not a tear fell from her eyes because her Selvan was a hero. He had given his life to save an innocent soul, a young one who might rule the world one day. That child must live to tell the tale of Selvan, she thought. Every child on this land should live to tell the tales of other Selvans too, she thought.

She drew herself to her feet. She swept her braids into buns on both sides of her head. She wiped the kumkumam off her forehead. She paid her respects to the shredded remains of her husband’s body and she walked out before anyone could say anything. Maha, a beautiful flower amidst the thorny bush of war and violence, will later be remembered for her bravery and sacrifice. She will be honoured on Maaverar Naal, by thousands of people all over the world, along with hundreds of other soldiers who have sacrificed their lives over the last twenty-five years.

CTYA’s Blog has started a new feature every Thursday called ‘Thoondal’, meaning inspiration, stimulation, or inducement. Through these weekly features, the author hopes to inspire you, stimulate your senses and induce you to think deeply about the topics she addresses and finally, to use those thoughts to inspire many more wonderful youth like you.

About the Author: Shayanika Suresh is a Law Graduate currently working on establishing her legal career. She is also a passionate writer and has self-published a collection of short stories, “Lips no longer sealed”. Shayanika’s passion to raise awareness of various social issues that affect individuals and society as a whole is evident in her work, leaving a message for the reader to take home.

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