This story was submitted to the Globe Soup 7-day short story writing challenge. I am reproducing a re-written version here. The genre is magical realism, which is my first such attempt.
Why are the townsfolk so fond of pearls, I asked my mother before it was time for school. Because, she replied, they were a gift from nature to our ancestors. In ancient times, it used to rain pearls. The pearls settled at the bottom of the river and formed a glassy white bed. The pearls attracted fish from the sea and the river became abundant with life.
When our ancestors arrived here, it was a thick jungle. They were scared, and found no food. They had no money to trade with the villagers who lived across the river. It was the dolphins who brought us pearls from the river. They taught us how to fish and protected us from the dangerous creatures that swim during high tide.
I did not believe my mother.
This is not what they teach us in school, mama.
Your school does not know about the ways of the ancestors. The foreigners are forcefully taking away all our pearls and selling them to faraway lands. May the gods protect us, one day there will be no more pearls left.
I picked up two slices of bread, rolled them along with some pickles and stuffed them into a cloth bag. I unlocked the front door and began walking to school.
There, we were taught about a man called Darwin and all the fantastic theories he had come up with. We human beings evolved from apes, the teacher said. Life began from water and from then on, every creature became what it is today. All animals chose the best genes to survive. I was amazed with this new information, with how nature came into itself.
When I returned home, I decided to not tell my mother about it. She would be mortified to hear of Darwin. Instead, I told her of astronomical advancements that the scientists were making, and of the constellations in the sky.
In the morning, I awoke to the sound of my mother weeping. My father was fervently chanting a prayer. It was only when I left the house, and took the road towards my school, did I understand what disturbed my parents.
The colonial newspapers declared that the fish in the river had been depleted. The dolphins had been hunted to extinction. Perhaps, was the anxious chatter on the streets, that the pearls had disappeared too.
I thought back to the time my mother had warned about such a disaster. I wondered why the foreigners were taking our pearls without asking us first. Why were my uncles beaten when they refused to give their pearls?
Where was my little cousin? My mother had claimed she was cleaning the floors of the mansions of the foreigners. They had made large houses with huge walls and towering gates near the hills on the opposite side of the river.
I wondered why we were not allowed to visit the areas the foreigners lived in, which were built on our land. I wondered why we couldn’t go to their houses, except to clean for them, cook for them, and to be servile to them.
All around me, I saw only grief. I asked my mother when the happiness would return. We will be avenged one day, she said. I asked if we were going to attack them, but she did not reply.
One day, as I sat dreamily on the riverside, I felt that something was changing.
The water began to move away from me. It was bubbling with fervour. It began to collect itself in all its might, turned into the god of hate, and changed its course.
The river was angry. It flooded itself. The wind, the clouds, and the hills colluded to wreak havoc. Then, it worked its way up to the hills where the foreigners lived.
It destroyed all the lavish bungalows, which the men owned, and wrapped itself around the ladies who wore the funny hats. It uprooted every tree, bush, house and all that came in its way. It tore the hills apart and unleashed itself on the foreigners.
When the catastrophic week was over, the foreigners began to pack their belongings. A man who called himself the spokesperson for the government, was heard speaking to another man from the newspaper.
We regret our actions. We shall put an end to our business in this town and leave at once.
I thought that he was lying. So did the people of the town. Despite his words, nobody believed that the foreigners felt any regret after stealing all the fish that used to sustain us. They would simply find another group of weak people to pillage.
I didn’t know how my people would ever find food to eat and the money to survive.
That night I tucked myself into bed, and wondered if I would ever go to school again. I looked out the window and thought of the Big Dipper and Orion and Ursa Minor, and all the stars I was told about. Then, as my eyes began to close shut, I saw the shiny beads of hope fall down from the sky.
Untamed Reflections 