Swimming in the Monsoon Sea

by Shyam Selvadurai

  “Who’s there? Othello?” Amrith narrowed his eyes at Suraj.

  “Ay, Desdemona,” Suraj replied, with a stern frown of warning.

  “Will you come to bed, my lord?” Amrith shrugged ever so slightly to say he didn’t give a damn about his warning.

  “Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?”

  “Ay, my lord.”

  “If you bethink yourself of any crime

  Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace,

  Solicit for it straight.”

  “Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that?”

  With each line, Amrith and Suraj were ascending higher and higher in their challenge to each other. When they finally reached the part where Othello accused Desdemona of being unfaithful with Cassio, Amrith, rather than beseeching Suraj as he had been directed to do, replied with anger. Suraj raised his ire to match Amrith’s and finally they were shouting at each other.

  “Down strumpet,” Suraj cried.

  “Kill me tomorrow; let me live tonight,” Amrith yelled back.

  “Nay, and you strive —”

  “But half an hour!”

  “Being done, there is no pause.” Suraj rested his hands around Amrith’s neck.

  Amrith had been directed to lie back and just place his hands on Suraj’s arms imploringly, but now he struck out at Suraj’s arms. Suraj pressed down harder, trying to hold Amrith. Soon, they were struggling in earnest. A wild surge rushed through Amrith. He lifted his knee, kicked out, and caught Suraj in the stomach. Suraj broke away and Amrith leapt from the bed.

  They stood panting, looking at each other.

  “De Alwis, Wanigasekera!” Madam and Fernando were hurrying towards the stage. “What on earth is happening?”

  “It’s Suraj, Madam,” Amrith cried, “he tried to strangle me.”

  “I did not! I was only pretending to do so, but then he began to struggle, Madam, and so I tried to —”

  “I did not struggle just for nothing. You were trying to choke me.” Amrith came towards the edge of the stage. “And anyway, Madam, why wouldn’t Desdemona struggle? It does not make any sense. After all, she loved Othello and was faithful, and he is a bloody fool believing everyone but his own wife. It doesn’t make sense that she would lie there like a meek-and-mild type. It’s not realistic. He has betrayed her. She should be furious and fight him as he tries to kill her. Wouldn’t anyone put up a fight if they felt they were unjustly treated and —”

  “De Alwis!” Madam tapped the edge of the stage. “Stop pacing, De Alwis.”

  Amrith stood still. He had not realized that he was doing so.

  Madam looked at him for a long moment. Then she glanced at Fernando and indicated for him to follow her.

  The moment they were out of the auditorium, Suraj said to him, “I’m not done with you.”

  Amrith did not respond. He was staring after Madam and Fernando with dread.

  The other boys had been watching the interaction onstage with great interest, and some of them began to call to Suraj, telling him to deal with Amrith afterwards, to not let a junior cheek him in that way. Yet, Amrith hardly paid these threats any attention, for he noticed that Peries was looking at him, a triumphant smile on his face.

  Madam and Fernando soon came back into the auditorium. Their faces were grave as they walked down the aisle towards the stage. Amrith felt a coldness spread through him.

  Madam reached the front of the auditorium. She called for Amrith to leave the stage. As he walked down the steps, his legs were trembling. He went and stood in front of her. All the other boys were silent, watching.

  “De Alwis,” Madam sighed. “Though this is a very difficult decision, I am afraid I have to take the part away from you.”

  “Ah, no, Madam,” he pleaded, clasping his hands together. “Please give me one more chance.”

  She shook her head. “I am afraid I cannot. I warned you last time that this might happen, if you did not improve.”

  “But, Madam,” he said imploringly, “I have learnt my lines; I am putting my best into the part. My very best.”

  “Yes.” She looked at him gently. “I know you are. But, De Alwis, it is not working out. I am sorry. This part is just not meant for you.”

  “Please, Madam, let me try one more time.”

  She shook her head. “My mind is made up. You will play Cassio.” She ran her hand over her forehead. “Okay, boys,” she said in a tired voice, “let’s do the scene again.” She gestured to Peries. “Go and take your place on the bed.”

  Madam and Fernando took seats a few rows back.

  Amrith continued to stand where he was, numb with shock. Finally, when he saw that Peries was lying on the bed, he went and sat in the front row. As he watched Peries perform his role, a heavy misery took hold of him.

  When rehearsals were over, Amrith left ahead of the others. He was waiting in the shaded portico of the main building for his car to arrive, when Suraj bounded down the steps to him.

  “Ah, Michael Cassio, waiting for your darling Iago to pick you up?”

  Amrith looked at him, too miserable to say anything.

  Suraj snickered. “Act three, scene three, De Alwis. You’ll see yourself in there, no doubt.”

  “Wanigasekera!”

  They turned. Madam and Fernando were standing at the top of the flight of steps. She crooked her finger sternly at him. “Wanigasekera, you don’t know the first damn thing about Shakespeare. You’re a complete dolt.” She turned to Amrith and said, “De Alwis, I see your car is at the gate.” She waved her hand for him to be gone.

  As he left, he heard her say, “Wanigasekera, I have friends in the theater world who are that way inclined, and it’s no laughing matter in this country. I don’t like such things being ridiculed. Don’t ever do that again.”

  18

  The Monsoon Sea

  At lunch that day, Niresh told the girls about his visit to the construction site, how he had actually been allowed to go up in a crane. He was impressed by what he had seen and especially by Lucien Lindamulagé, who he said was the one of the smartest people he had ever met. Though Niresh appeared to be himself, Amrith noticed that his cousin often glanced at him, anxiously. Amrith refused to meet his eye. Niresh and Mala were responsible for his losing the part of Desdemona. It was their selfishness that had caused him to be angry with Suraj.

  That afternoon, they all went to Kinross Beach for a swim. Selvi had suggested the idea at lunch and, since Amrith certainly did not want to be alone with Niresh, he agreed to it.

  It seemed like a nice day when they set off from their house but, in the ten minutes it took them to walk to the beach, the weather began to change. By the time they reached Kinross, a rainstorm looked like it would break in the next hour. The sun was a poisonous orange, veiled by clouds. A pinkish-yellow haze hung in the air, making it difficult to see very far down the deserted beach. Distant coconut trees and rocks shimmered like a mirage. Crows whirled and dipped over some carrion, like flecks of ash from a fire. The sea was churned up, a brown color with streaks of bilious green rippling through it.

  Something devilish came over Amrith the moment they stepped onto the beach. He stripped down to his trunks and ran towards the sea, ahead of the others. As opposed to hanging back and making his way slowly, like he usually did, he splashed through the water. As soon as it was deep enough, he plunged in with a hoarse cry. He struck out, beating his way against the incoming waves.

  When he finally turned around to look back towards the beach, only Mala had come down to the water’s edge. Niresh was helping Selvi, whose slipper strap had broken. He was mending it with a safety pin she had given him.

  “Amrith,” Mala called, wading nervously into the water, “how is it out there?” At the best of times, she was wary of the sea but, with the water all churned up, she was even more uneasy.

  “What?” He pretended he had not heard her.

  She repeated herself and he cupped his ear to indicate that he st
ill could not hear.

  He watched as she swam out to him.

  Beyond the beach a train thundered by, its shriek piercing the air.

  Mala had reached him. “The waters strange today, isn’t it? I hope it doesn’t rain while we’re here.” Since their fight yesterday, she had been trying hard to be nice to him. What he had said about the Manuel-Pillais not being his family had made her feel sorry for him. Seeing the pity in her eyes now, he felt his anger rise a level.

  He splashed her face and grinned.

  “Hey!” She grinned back, taking this as a sign of forgiveness. She splashed him, too.

  They started to circle, bobbing up and down. As if on cue, they began to hit water at each other and soon they could barely see for the spray between them.

  Mala accidentally swallowed some of the seawater and she began to cough. “Amrith, surrender, surrender.”

  “No surrender,” he shouted, and continued to slap water, moving closer and closer.

  She turned away coughing, “Amrith … stop … surrender.”

  He was right in front of her and pushed more and more water. He could not stop himself now, even if he wanted to.

  “Amrith!” She backed away. “Stop!”

  He sank silently under. In the murky water, he could make out her legs, like the brown tendrils of some sea-plant. He swam stealthily towards her. When he was close, he reached out for her legs. At his touch, she kicked out in a flurry of bubbles and tried to get away. But he was too quick for her. He locked his arms around her knees. With a swift tug he brought her under. For a moment, through the clouded water, he could see her hair flying around her face, her mouth gaping like a fish.

  In bringing her down, however, he lost his grip. She broke away and disappeared from his sight in a storm of brown foam. Amrith came up to the surface, gasping. He rubbed the water off his face, pushing his hair up his forehead.

  Mala backed away from him.

  “Amrith, enough is enough! It’s not funny anymore.”

  “Why?” He bobbed towards her. “Why isn’t it funny?” He splashed some water at her.

  “Stop it, just stop it, men!” Her voice broke.

  “Ah, don’t be such a crybaby. Come on, fight, fight.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?” He splashed her again.

  “Just leave me alone,” she yelled at him, with sudden anger. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Fight, fight,” he chanted, coming ever nearer.

  “What have I done? What? Is it my fault that Niresh loves me and you’re jealous because he does?”

  The blood thudded to Amrith’s head. “What did you say?” he screamed at her. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, looking away.

  “You are a liar.” He began to splash her furiously and she had no choice but to splash him, too. “A liar and a slut.”

  “I am not!” she cried back, her voice cracking. “You’re a jealous baby.”

  Then, with a deep breath, Amrith was underwater. He swam swiftly towards her. When he reached her, he tried to lock his arms around her legs again. She kicked out and caught him in the shoulder. Pain shot through him. It acted as a spur. He darted at her and grasped her calves tightly. She struggled, but he held on, digging his nails into her flesh. He brought her under. Through the stirred-up water he could see her hair spilling out all over, her arms flailing desperately, a look of terror on her face. Her chest was heaving from the water she was swallowing. He held on grimly. Her resistance began to grow weaker; her arms fluttered powerlessly to her sides.

  Suddenly strong arms locked around his waist and he was being dragged up out of the water.

  “Hey, buddy, buddy,” Niresh cried.

  Mala surfaced with a strangled sound. She spat out water and began to cough, a loud moaning, wheezing.

  Amrith struggled to get out of his cousins grip, but Niresh was much stronger. He held Amrith tight against his chest.

  With her eyes on Amrith as if he were a dangerous animal, Mala backed away. When she was at a sufficient distance, she turned and stumbled towards the shore.

  “Let me go, let me go!” Amrith cried, gritting his teeth and struggling to get out of his cousins grip.

  “Take it easy.” Niresh released Amrith, now that Mala was safe.

  The moment he was free, Amrith lunged into the water and swam away.

  “Hey, buddy,” Niresh called after him, “why don’t you come out for a bit?”

  “No!”

  “Come on, Amrith.”

  “No! If you want to go out, go. I’m not stopping you.” Amrith swam faster, leaving Niresh behind.

  He went out quite far and then turned to look back. Mala was on the beach. Selvi was wiping her off with a towel, bending down to examine the scratches Amrith had made on her sister’s calves. Niresh was walking towards them. Selvi wrapped the towel around her sister and, as Mala stood shivering, she began to talk to Niresh, both of them glancing every so often in Amrith’s direction.

  “I don’t care, I just don’t care,” Amrith muttered to himself, as he treaded water. Yet a sense of shame, of horror, was beginning to take hold of him, as he realized what he had done. He had tried to drown Mala.

  Selvi and Niresh waded out and, when the water was deep enough, they swam towards him. Once they reached Amrith, they treaded water, watching him, careful smiles on their faces. They glanced at each other, before Selvi said, “Amrith, it’s going to rain any moment now. Why don’t you come out?”

  Her voice was gentle, almost polite, and he felt even more ashamed. He shook his head stubbornly.

  “Come on, buddy,” Niresh said pleadingly. “You know, we really need to be getting back, and we can’t just leave you here.”

  “Why not?” he replied haughtily.

  “Amrith,” Selvi said, losing patience with him, “you better come out. I mean it. Otherwise I’m telling Amma and Appa what happened.”

  “I don’t care. What does it matter what they think? You all are not my family.”

  Selvi was not fazed by this. “You’re being stupid and melodramatic.” She turned away. “Suit yourself, I’m not going to hang around here waiting for you.” She gestured towards the swollen gray clouds that had thickened above them in the last few minutes. “It’s going to pour any minute.”

  With that, she waded out, indicating for Niresh to follow her.

  Amrith watched them swimming towards the beach. “I don’t care, I just don’t care.” He swam out and faced away from the beach. There was an odd band of green light at the horizon, above which the clouds were black and monstrous. A red buoy bounced manically from side to side. When he turned back, the others were no longer there.

  Yet, as Amrith looked towards the shore, he realized that he had drifted sideways. He frowned and began to strike out towards land, trying to ride a wave in. But he could get no closer to the beach. He struggled to find a footing in the sand. His feet touched the ground and, in that instant, he felt the current for the first time. He had not been aware of it because he had been floating in the water. Amrith moaned with fear. This had happened to him once before, and he knew better than to fight against it. He had no choice but to wait it out. Amrith watched helplessly as the beach slipped by him, very aware of the pull of the sea beneath. He prayed that the current would continue to move only parallel to the beach and not suddenly change direction, pulling him far out into the ocean.

  After what seemed an interminable amount of time, Amrith felt the current ease. He quickly struck out towards the shore, terrified that another rush of current might pick him up and carry him away. When it was too shallow to swim anymore, he got to his feet and floundered through the last stretch of water. He staggered up the beach and collapsed exhausted on the sand. He closed his eyes, his chest heaving from exertion and fear.

  Slowly his breath returned to normal. He became aware that it had begun to drizzle. A wave rushed up and broke around him, even though he was fa
r up the beach. He opened his eyes and sat up. The sea was moving into the beach.

  Amrith got to his feet and hurried in the direction of the railway lines. He had gone only a few steps when, as if out of nowhere, there was a great wailing and a mighty wind swept down around him. It began to rain, great torrents of water falling from the sky, lashing at his body. The sand on the beach had been stirred by the wind and it rose up, blowing in all directions, stinging his body, getting in his eyes and his mouth. He bent his head, narrowed his burning eyes, and lurched forwards. He was walking into the wind, however, and each step felt as if his feet were weighed down with lead. He stumbled and slipped and finally he fell over a piece of driftwood, sprawling on the sand.

  When he struggled to his feet, he saw, not far ahead, a hut that in the good season served as a kiosk, from which a vendor sold slices of pineapple and mango and packets of cashews. He fought his way towards it and, once he reached the hut, he tried the door. It was unlocked. He pushed and it gave inwards, banging against the wall from the force of the wind. Using all his strength, Amrith managed to shut the door behind him and leaned against it, panting.

  When he had calmed down, he wiped the water and sand off his face and looked around him. The hut was empty, except for some wooden crates beside the door and a pile of old fishnets in a corner. There was a smell of damp and decay. Amrith sat on the pile of nets. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He could hear the roar of the wind outside, the hammering of the rain on the tin roof above him. The storm was at its height. It was best for him to stay in here until it subsided. Then he could make his way back home.

  As Amrith waited, the memory of what he had done to Mala came back to him — the terror in her face, the way her chest had heaved from swallowing salt water. Amrith put his head in his hands and moaned. He thought of how Mala’s resistance had grown weaker as he held her under, and he shuddered to think what might have happened if Niresh had not intervened. How could he have done that to his sister? It was as if he had lost sight of himself, as if the Amrith he knew had been absent, replaced by someone else. “Ah, no, no,” he murmured, and shook his head. “Why did I do that, why?”