Serendib -the land of jewels

How an ordinary day can become extraordinary for any of us! Serendib is an ancient name for Sri lanka

Serendib - the land of jewels

I awoke as I always awoke

to the OM MANE PADME HUM

chanted from the temple

across the road

 

My husband Ranil was at sea

fishing in the family boat

with his uncle and cousin.

It is a small boat

with a hollowed log hull,

one rough and unfinished log outrigger

attached by two curved, sturdy branches

bound by strong nylon string.

A wood and nylon mesh platform

gives storage for nets and tools,

plastic water bottles,

and the eagerly awaited evening meal,

rice and curry wrapped in a banana leaf.

And of course, the wooden mast and cloth sail.

Perhaps tonight the sea might bless us!

 

I dressed quickly, and as always,

offered a few grains of rice at our family shrine

and spent a few precious moments in meditation.

  

I let the children sleep,

Rasheed aged two (and three quarters),

Deshika aged six and Lucki aged eight.

I washed in the basin outside,

the electric light illuminating our small garden.

I paid my morning visit to the outside toilet.

Squashed two cockroaches,

squatted and watched a line of ants

eating the roaches that I crunched yesterday.

My bowels loose, I washed - left hand,

from the small red plastic jug below the tap.

Still dark outside,

I switched on the dim kitchen light

and lit the charcoal stove.

I put on one bowl of water for tea, 

sweet and milky just as we like it.

While the water boiled I chopped fresh vegetables

and then started cooking the rice and dahl for breakfast.

 

By this time, the gathering light

had vanquished all but the brightest stars,

so I woke the children and kissed each one.

Rubbing sleepy eyes they dressed,

Deshika and Lucki in their white school uniforms,

Rasheed in yellow shorts and his blue T shirt.

We ate breakfast and chatted.

The sun rose at 6.30am (as it always did)

and the warm light kissed the two palms

at the bottom of our garden (as it always did ).

 

Uncle Assan came at 7.15am in his Blue Tuk Tuk

to take Desika and Lucki to the primary school

at the other end of the village.

It is between the beach and the railway line.

As always I checked their bags and kissed them goodbye.

I miss them but they are always home by 2 o’clock.

   

At 7.49am the train passes on its way to Colombo.

It toots as it approaches the crossing.

It is always packed with early workers.

Just before eight o’clock I started the daily chores.

They are not really a chore however since

I take a pride in a task well done and

I know that my clean and tidy house is appreciated.

 

I put away the sleeping mats,

shook and folded the sheets,

swept the sand from the floor that gets into everything.

Then I washed the breakfast plates and cups.

 

At 8.15am Rasheed and I enjoyed a cool glass of water.

Rasheed went into the yard

and swept the fallen coconut leaves into a pile.

He brushed the sand from the concrete yard

and he laughed as he played with the dog.

Then he chased it out into the lane

where it slept in the warm sun (all day.)

 

At 9am Rasheed and I set off from the house

and walked, hand in hand,

the short distance to the beach.

He laughed as he chased a blue butterfly.

Rashid is a happy child, he is a blessing!

The men always returned by about 10am

and we all help to pull the boats up on the sand.

 

God willing the catch will be good today.

The other wives gathered to help with the boats.

We left the small children with Sunetra as we worked

and they sat in the shade of the coconut tree.

Altogether there are fifteen of us,

we are lifelong friends.

 

Shortly after we arrived on the beach

a mysterious event happened.

The sea, which normally lapped

close to where the boats were left,

started to, slowly but inexorably, ebb out.

After 15 minutes a great reach of the bay,

and the whole of the coral reef was free of water.

Fish thrashed for their lives, gulping for air.

A propitious event, which offered a great feast.

Surely a sign from God!

We picked our way carefully down the sand,

across to the sharp coral, smiling and laughing,

gathering as we went a multihued ocean harvest.

Surely God must have some great plan for us!

 

My close friend Anandi suddenly called out.

We all looked up where she pointed out to sea.

A dark band crossed the horizon where the boats were.

We gasped as the boats all bobbed up higher and higher

and then disappeared from view.

It looked like nothing to worry about,

but an ominous shadow stopped our hearts for a moment.

 

In the time taken to exchange a few words,

the water by the reef trickled in

to fill the gaps between the coral.

When it covered our feet we became alarmed.

We started to walk to the shore

but the water rose faster than we could walk.

We screamed as the force of the water

pushed us from our feet.

At that moment, the wave,

not then higher than a man,

but strong and relentless like time,

gripped us like a baby holds onto your finger.

It tore our feet, arms and legs

as it dragged us over the razor sharp coral.

Suddenly we all knew that there was no escape.

We all screamed in anguish, as we remembered,

in a moment of helpless panic,

our babies sheltering under the palm tree.

 

But no more than anyone could fly back up

when you slip from the top of a coconut palm,

the wave carried us up to the beach

and high over the place where our babies

had been sheltering from the sun.

It only took the length of time that it takes to enjoy

a sip from a cup of sweet milky tea.

 

One by one, in only a few minutes,

all my friends from the beach road 

disappeared from my view into the raging water

and were gone for ever.

 

For some unfathomable reason,

that only God can tell,

I was spared that day,

as I managed to clutch for dear life

onto a coconut palm tree.

But the water that had first teased gently

then ripped off roughly, every stitch of my clothing.

After a whole night and day had passed

I saw a man walking below looking for bodies,

but I was too ashamed of my nakedness to shout for help.

After another day and night

the same thing happened again.

On the third day a lady rescue worker passed

and found me still clinging for life

in the top branches of a coconut palm.

 

Later I discovered that my husband, along with the other fishermen, survived because their boats just rose over the giant waves. I am pleased to say that, five years after that day we will never forget, we now have a child of three. A day never passes that I don’t think about our three children that we lost but life must go on.

 

 

 

 

(based on an personal account as told to my daughter who was doing voluntary work in Sri Lanka shortly after the Tsunami)

 

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

"Serendib-the land of jewels"
alangraham,
The title was the lovely entrance into this writing. A place and time very different from what many people find familiar. Daily life of a simple breakfast of rice and awakening on a bed-a mat on the floor. But for all the simplicity this family works together and is respectful and thankful.
The amazing contrast of this same dynamic being carried into the return of the fisherman is suddenly erupted by the tide behaving irrationally and unexpectedly.
The village is lured to death and this is so breathtaking. Death lurks and still the feeling of hope remains as some survive and the family in question and the woman speaking, speaks hope. A child changes everything in the end to soften the harsh memories of loss.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your story.
Blessings,
Kathy

[alanwgraham]

Thanks Kathy. I know you had to search for this story. This story was quite emotional for me as my daughter arrived in Sri Lanka just after the tsunami and got involved with helping. Later my wife and I visited and met the lady that was stranded in the tree. My idea for the story was how an ordinary day can become extraordinary. I once read the story with some bhuddist friends chanting at the start and end. That was quite memorable.
Regards
Alan

[Kathy Van Kurin]

Alan,
Thank you for sharing your background life story. It gives me precious insights to this poem of yours and its meaning. Regarding the every day becoming something else is what grabbed my mind too. This was really something to think about. It must of been something to to visit the area and see your girl involved in the aftermath. I'm glad you were able to share this story with friends in the way you did and have the support of common caring.
Blessing to ya!
Kathy

[Willard Wells]

A very nice read. I think the format would be better suited to standard paragraphs. Well Told story with great imagery.Very vivid.

[alanwgraham]

Thanks very much Willard. I based this on a true story told to my daughter who was doing voluntary work in Sri Lanka just after the tsunami.
Regards, alan

[Izzylee514]

I have to say, I thought this was a very well-written and descriptive piece of work. Your metaphors and personification really allow the reader to create mental images. I really enjoyed the fact that it was clear and concise, because it allowed me to fully appreciate this amazing story. The poetry-like format allowed it to flow easily, although it can sometimes detract from the writing itself when it breaks up the metaphors. Overall, I thourghly enjoyed this take on the Sri Lanka tsunami.

[alanwgraham]

Thanks sizzles, for taking the time to read this. On a later visit to Sri Lanka I felt that I had to make some record of this momentous event. My daughter had arrived in Sri lanka two weeks after the tsunami and met this lady that had spent three days naked in a Palm tree..
What a story! Thanks again,
Alan

[Rose]

Your use of imagery is breathtaking! While reading, I could clearly see the scenes and images forming in my mind. I think this story captivated me for two reasons; number one being that the story/message was new and unique, and number two being the form of writing this story was represented in.
I loved how at the beginning, this poem took a very casual and familiar route, leading to the reader feeling surprised and intrigued when the events took a more serious and life-threatening turn.
Personally, I am a big fan of prose/prose poetry, so I loved the paragraph form that the story was represented in.

However, I would recommend editing this poem so that the tense is constant; I've noticed that the tense tends to fluctuate between past and present. For instance, in the 8th and 9th stanzas, the tense switches from present to past; "sweep the sand...wash the breakfast plates" is in present tense, while "enjoyed a cool glass...swept the sand" is in past tense.
Overall, I thought this was an excellent story, told in a very fascinating and talented way. Great job!!

[alanwgraham]

Thanks rose.I felt a great emotional attachment to this story as my daughter had met the lady that the story is based on. Your comments are very welcome and I will check though the piece again.
Regards,
Alan

[Benita Paloja]

I felt like I was watching a movie! Great writing, thank you so much for sharing and letting us see life through you're mind.

[alanwgraham]

Thank you for your kind review Benita. I visited Sri lanka a few years after the Tsunami and felt it was quite surreal sitting on the beach in the knowledge of what had happened. My daughter goes every year to do voluntary work and we were able to meet and stay with many people that had experienced the event. Thanks again.
Alan I look forward to checking out moreof your work!

[barleygirl]

Your writing is very clear & easy to follow & well-expressed with tons of imagery. I like the way the everyday setting is well-established with an easy rhythm of everyday life in this culture. The details are vivid & help us picture & even feel the way it is on any old morning there. Then "The Event" is beginning . . . I found it very unusual to read of the people going out into ankle-deep water perhaps, going after the abundance of fish flopping around there (I've read many accounts of tsunamis, but never this detail, never the attitude of being completely unsuspecting as it begins). I also found the detail of staying in the tree, self-conscious in nakedness, to be a startling idea . . . as anyone would imagine crying out for help & completely forgetting whatever one might look like . . . but this is one of those rare glimpses that makes your writing fresh & original sounding & interesting.

Normally I don't get involved in the debate between "prose" . . . "poetry" . . . and "poetry that sounds like prose" . . . I feel people can present their work however they want. That being said, I very much disliked the presentation here, where every sentence is jagged & broken into pieces, rather than being set like a paragraph with flowing ideas & images. With long descriptive sentences being broken up like this, it really takes away from your smooth, fluid, flowing writing style. The short phrases break up the reading too much for me.

[alanwgraham]

Thanks very much for taking the time to give a very full review. I appreciate your comments on the writing style and I have thought about this issue myself. It is a great help to get other input as well but of course you often end up with comments on either side. I will have a good think about this and perhaps try reformatting it into a straight prose style to see what it looks like. Thanks again, Alan

[Ember Smyth]

Amazingly well written! I really like how it describes daily life in the the first part, as well!

[alanwgraham]

Very kind of you Ember - I felt quite emotional when i was writing this!