village

Our innocent kids undergo much trouble. Not only do the children of high caste families look down upon our children calling them low caste brats, but even some teachers ridicule them. They beat our children for no reason.

Physical beauty or sexual attraction in a woman was not a criterion in deciding, strengthening, or the survival of such relationships of these villagers.

A new movement reinforced by activists such as Buddhist monks, physicians who practised traditional medicine, teachers, farmers, and laborers brought Prime Minister Bandaranaike into the political helm. The leaders of the Davulawatta community considered this election a personal achievement. They saw this as a people's government and appreciated its genuine interest in fulfilling the needs of the common people. They trusted that the present government would eradicate poverty and the caste discrimination, and work to promote self-esteem.

It was not to flaunt feelings of superiority that the elders of the Kaisaruwatte family clung to the traditions of their patrician lineage, but for self-preservation of themseleves and their way of life, now declining in the face of social change. It was their inability to adapt to change due to the rigidity of their adherence to tradition, that was also the cause of their decline.

Chamari: "Aravinda, have you been to Kataragama?"Aravinda: "No, I've never been there."Chamari: "What? That's unbelievable for someone born in Deniyaya!"Aravinda: "Going to Kataragama is not a custom of the rural folk. It is the middle class and wealthy urban people, not the villagers, who venerate the Kataragama god. He is the god of the urbanities. The villagers have now started to imitate the urban people."Chamari:"I thought even villagers used to go to Kataragama long ago."Aravinda: "No, It came from the rich urban Sinhalese of the towns who followed the rich Hindus.

Even though we are supposed to be low caste and poor our vote also has the same value and validity as that of great people.

There's curd, but is it alright to eat curd after eating meat?" asked Weligama Hamine, placing the dish of vegetables in her hands on the table. "Our parents never allowed us to eat curd after meat.""There's no harm in eating curd, Amma," Aravinda said. "It may be a little harmful to eat curd after too much meat. Meats contains essential elements that take time to digest. This is also true of milk. That's why this belief would have grown. If we eat a large quantity of meat without rice, and follow with curd, there is a possibility of indigestion."Weligama Hamine accepted the professional knowledge of her son who had qualified in England. She however, did not abandon her own view completely.

She believed that people born to low caste families were meant to suffer. That was their karma. She had learnt that those who indulge in sinful activities in their previous birth, especially those who humiliated others, would be reborn to low caste families. She firmly believed also that one has to suffer until the sin was paid for through suffering and good deeds.

Why was Malin deliberately trying to hurt the feelings of his parents? Aravinda could not find an answer. Hurting his own parents' feelings was something alien to Aravinda. He lived among rural folk who encouraged children not to flout the wishes of parents and elders.

When he had accompanied his father on drumming errands he noticed how high caste men and women treated them as inferior. They had to enter from the back door and wait near the kitchen or at a side veranda and sit on low benches or reed mats. They were never offered a decent seat. At meals times they were never invited to eat at the main table with the family or other guests. Instead, they had to eat the food served to them on the reed mat. This they ate in silence while the patrons sat at a lavishly laid table and enjoyed their food amidst chat and cheer.

A village woman from a poor family may violate the code of propriety, not because of poverty, but because she has been the victim of the menace of male predators. A woman from a family of the gentry, would never be the victim of such intimidation. Moreover the women of the gentry were bonded to follow their code of conduct and not to transgress, by generations of breeding.

If the woman has the physical fitness and the meritorious luck to bear his children, the family was a fortunate one. Villagers always looked at sterility with a squinted eye, and its fault and the misfortune lay solely on the woman's part. As such, a childless woman often became culprit for her entire life.

Carolina protected her so that Suneetha should remain a virgin until her wedding night. The worth of such purity in character was immeasurable in this society and culture. Therefore, she never even allowed Suneetha to go with other village girls when they went to the desolate cinnamon gardens to gather firewood.

Maggie was ten years younger than him. Being cross-cousins, they lived in the same compound, in the same two houses that still existed. When their parents told him to take her for his wife, there was nothing for him to think deep into the matter. They simply obeyed their parents. Accordingly, she came over to sleep in his house. In this, manner they remained as man and wife for a period of over thirty years.

Killing life in whatever way, will drag you along the hell's way.

A woman anticipates danger by instinct, rather than inductive reasoning. Due to this, when faced with danger due to passionate feelings related to their basic needs, women are impelled by reasoning, conditioned by instincts acquired from family traditions and the conventions of her social stratum, much more than men are.

Her heart filled with boundless love that surged anew for her father. She felt like rushing to him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek the way she used to when she was a small girl. However, these villagers are not in the habit of kissing their offspring after they grow up. They show their love and affection by stroking their heads, addressing them in endearing words and blessing them.

Village life gently swirled around them, with the perpetual ebb and flow of people, scurrying in every direction. The village was a living, organic entity, with blood flowing through its veins, and with a definite pulse and heartbeat. It had its own distinct personality and its own dark caustic humour, and was constantly processing and regurgitating information through its winding, meandering streets.