For the Love of a Life

FOR THE LOVE OF A LIFE by Thushari Wasana Nanayakkara


Most unforgettable moments in my life are sentimental.  Among them, hides an incident, which I can't relate without blushing in shame.

I live in a financially unstable third-world country where a school can be anything from a shed, if situated in a remote village, to a sophisticated building, if in a populated town.  I went to a middle-class school, which comprised of two small stable buildings and one huge shed.  Our school canteen was a small room in one of the stable buildings with a window opening to the play area.  The buying and selling process was carried out through this iron barred window.  There were two people in the canteen; the plump Canteen Matron and her fragile assistant.  The Matron stood at the window handling cash and she was so huge that she blocked the view of food that was displayed inside glass shelves.  She wrapped whatever students purchased in pieces of old newspaper and handed out through the iron bars. To buy something from the canteen, the students had to queue-up in a single file.  As the process was very slow, the queue was extended outside the shade of the building, and students had to stand in the blazing sun waiting for their turn to buy food.

This incident took place when I was about ten years of age, while waiting for my turn in the canteen queue.  In my younger years, I was one of those dark skinned, untidy children whose mom had a thing or two to say upon my reaching home.  This particular day was a very hot day and I squinted my eyes at the glare, moving a person-up every time a student makes a purchase and move away.  After a few minutes, sweat started pouring from my head.  Due to this, I had a very itchy scalp.  I scratched my head and to my horror, I felt a tiny lump on my head.  I held it carefully using my thumb and my index finger and the lump came off easily.  I placed it on my palm to examine.  I shrieked!  It was head-lice!  Even in that day and age where there were no shampoos to get rid of lice and nits, my mom was very strict that I didn’t had any.  I had no idea how this monster got on to my head!

Any body's usual reaction to this situation would have been to kill or to throw the lice and to think about it no more.  But being a Buddhist, and trying very hard to be a practicing Buddhist to impress my mother, I didn’t want to kill the lice.  Slowly dropping it to the ground crossed my mind, but then again I thought it would be wicked, because I knew that the lice would be squashed to death when someone steps on it.  Even if it survives, how would it find food?  It would die of hunger!    I didn’t want to kill it, or leave it anywhere it would not survive. 

I rattled my brains "What other options?" 

Well, one option would be to put it back on to my head.  But I was not happy with that idea.  Then as I looked around.  The glossy black head of hair of the student standing in front of me gave me an excellent idea.  I held the creature carefully with my thumb and my index finger and slowly released it in to the hair of the student in front of me.  I happily watched the head-lice disappearing in to her hair. 

"I found a home for the little creature!  Good for him!" I was so relieved that I smiled to myself.

I know you are grimacing by now and thanking your lucky stars that you were not the student in front of me.  But at that moment, nothing crossed my innocent, childish mind other than the thought that I didn’t want to kill.  When I related this incident to my mom, I could see that her face blushed with suppressed laughter. I knew she was amused and this puzzled me a lot. Some days later, she talked to me about extremes and common sense.


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