Swimming in the Monsoon Sea Read Online Free PDF

families and they had eloped to do so. The child of such a marriage was often rejected by his relatives.
    Amrith sat up in bed and drew his legs to his chest. As he rested his chin on his knees, a memory arose of a visit two women had paid Aunty Bundle a few months ago.
    They were old school friends. One of them lived in Colombo and kept in touch with Aunty Bundle occasionally. The other had just come back from Australia to settle in Sri Lanka. She had been living abroad for the past ten years with her daughters.
    Amrith had immediately disliked the woman from Australia and he could tell that Aunty Bundle was less than delighted to see her again. She was a hawkish-looking woman, with a beak of a nose and closely set eyes. Amrithwas the only other family member home and, since he and the girls were expected to greet visitors, he had gone out to the courtyard where the women were seated with Aunty Bundle.
    The moment the woman from Australia saw him, she cried out, “But, Bundle, who is this boy? I didn’t know you had a son.”
    The other school friend looked disconcerted. She had clearly told this woman exactly who he was. Warned her, Amrith could not help feeling.
    Aunty Bundle had also seen through the woman’s charade and her voice was icy as she introduced Amrith — the son of her friend Asha, grandson of the late QC Fonseka, the famous lawyer.
    “Aah
, he is just visiting you, then,” the woman from Australia said disingenuously.
    “No,” Aunty Bundle replied, with even greater coldness, “Amrith is our son now.”
    In all the years Amrith had lived here, there had never been a need to explain his presence. In Sri Lankan society, all such personal information was secretly passed between people to prevent socially awkward situations from arising.
    Amrith, having done his social duty, was free to leave, and he went across the courtyard to his bedroom. He did not know why but, once he was in his room, he left his door slightly ajar and stood by it, listening.
    After a while, Aunty Bundle went inside to answer a phone call. The moment she left, the other school friendsaid to the woman from Australia, “What on earth, Ratna? I already told you about the boy,
nah.”
    “Yes-yes,” Ratna replied, “but I just wanted to make my point clear.”
    “Which is?”
    “That I have brought my teenage daughters back to this country to ensure they meet the right sorts of people, rather than those savage Australians. And I didn’t go through all the trouble of relocating to have them mix with the likes of that boy.”
    “But why? He is, after all, the grandson of QC Fonseka, a fine family.”
    “Yes, but his relatives have rejected him, so he has no social standing. And don’t forget the scandal surrounding his parents’ death. Would you want something like that trailing your daughter?”
    The other woman was silent.
    “No, I did not think so,” Ratna continued. “The father was an alcoholic. The boy has probably inherited it. Would you want a drunkard and wife-beater for a future son-in-law?”
    Again the other woman was silent.
    Amrith stumbled away to his bed and sat down shakily. A feverish heat took hold of him. He had not realized that the circumstances of his parents’ death and his father’s drunkenness were known in their social circle.
    Later, once the women had left, Aunty Bundle came to his room. She wandered around aimlessly, tidying up thingson his bookshelf and chest of drawers, before she finally spoke. “Son, you should feel sorry for that woman. The reason she has come back is because her husband has abandoned her for an Australian woman.” She shook her head. “I never liked that Ratna, even as a girl. I hope she doesn’t visit again or try to thrust her daughters at us.”
    Aunty Bundle did not look at him while she spoke. She had been confronted, for the first time, by the problem of Amrith’s past and the consequences it might have for his future.
    After that, Amrith became conscious that