Paduma's World By Nihal de Silva
‘Even a minor event in the life of a child is an event in that child's world … and thus a world event’.
Paduma and the monitor
His left cheek is stinging.
Paduma bites his lip and keeps his head up, determined not to cry. He hears the sniggers and whispers of the children seated behind him. Those seated in front turn to look; they have gleeful grins pasted across their faces.

Miss Rupa goes striding back to the blackboard to continue the lesson. Paduma stares at the back of her head to hide his confusion and anger. The plan that worked so well in the previous year has gone badly wrong this time.

Miss Premini had been the class teacher in grade four. A kind, placid person by nature, she had struggled to maintain order in her class of hyperactive nine-year old children. The girls were well behaved but the boys had brought the class to the edge of anarchy. Most of them came to school because their mothers had threatened to hang them by their ears if they didn't; they only needed the slightest excuse to create some disturbance that would prevent lessons being taken.

Paduma had been, by far, the noisiest and most incorrigible. Miss Premini had been at her wits end till she made an inspired decision. She appointed Paduma the class monitor.

Being made policeman, after having been an outlaw all his life, shocked and confused Paduma for a time. Then he began to taste the joys of power, for being monitor enabled him to lord it over the rest of the class, even the bigger boys. His friends, especially Mahi Bada, had an easy time in class; those who crossed Paduma somehow found themselves doing detention or extra homework soon afterwards. His classmates realised that annoying Paduma brought bad luck so they made special efforts to please him.

But that wonderful year in grade four finally came to an end when the whole class was promoted to grade five, the highest class in Wilgama Primary school.

Paduma's first day in grade five is also his first close contact with the spectacled Miss Rupa, the class teacher. Paduma senses that Miss Rupa is quite unlike the kindly Miss Premini and needs to be handled differently. But there is no time to get to know her, much less get around her. Paduma wants the job of class monitor very badly for two reasons. He will enjoy the power, of course, but the more important reason is that if one of his former victims gets the job he, Paduma, will face a whole year of bad luck.

Paduma counts seventeen children in the class, eleven boys and six girls. Many of the boys are bigger, the girls more studious and neatly dressed. Besides, to even consider appointing him monitor, Miss Rupa must first notice his existence; so far there is no sign that she has.

Miss Rupa might, at any minute, announce her decision. Paduma looks around in desperation and sees a plastic lunch box on the next desk. Saro, the girl seated there, always brings some food to be taken during the interval.

Paduma picks up the box and tosses it on to the row of desks at the front of the class. It lands like a bomb. Miss Rupa, who has been writing something on the blackboard, whirls around in time to see grated coconut and boiled manioc fly in all directions. The girls in the front row scream; the children at the back look at Paduma in awe and admiration. Saro, the girl who has lost her mid-morning snack, turns on Paduma furiously:
'Mokakkda keruwey, pissa?'
What did you do, you lunatic?
Before Paduma can respond he finds Miss Rupa towering over him. There seem to be shafts of flame coming out of her spectacles.

'Stand up, you,' she snarls furiously. 'What is your name?'
'Paduma, miss.'
'Did - you - throw - that - lunch - box?'
Paduma smirks and doesn't reply.
Miss Rupa swings her arm suddenly, catching Paduma smartly across his cheek. He yells in pain and surprise and topples on to Saro who pushes him away hastily. The sound of the slap seems to echo round the tiny classroom.

'Listen to me carefully, you little monster,' Miss Rupa grates, baring her teeth. 'If you ever do something like that in my class again, I will first skin you; then I will report you to the principal and have you removed from the school.'

Is it possible? Will they really send him home? What will be better than not having to attend school again?
Then he thinks about the many whippings he'll get. First Miss Rupa, then Wije Sir the principal and, hovering in the background, his own mother!
It is too much.

He stands quietly. He knows that anything he says will trigger another stinging blow. He also guesses that this is the critical moment. Will Miss Rupa realise that the only way to control him is to appoint him, Paduma, class monitor? Miss Premini in grade four had done just that and it had worked out very well.

Miss Rupa stares angrily at him for a while. Paduma notices that her right hand is actually twitching. She restrains herself with an effort and walks away. As she comes near the blackboard she turns around and lets her eyes pass over the children seated before her. She points to a boy at the back, easily the biggest fellow in the class.
'You,' she barks. 'Stand up.'
'Me miss?' the boy asks nervously as he gets to his feet.
'Yes. What is your name?'
'Sunil.'
'You are the monitor from today,' Miss Rupa tells him. 'I want you to keep order in the class, especially over that … that rascal over there.'
Oh no. Not Sunil. Anyone but Sunil! He's the one who hates me because I punished him in grade four. He'll torture me.
It takes a while for Sunil to understand his good fortune; then a slow smile spreads across his face.

'Yes, miss,' he says joyfully, nodding his head. 'I'll see to Paduma … and any of the others.'
'Good.'
The bell rings for the interval.
Paduma has been waiting impatiently for it and is the first to race to the door. He knows that Saro will pounce on him for throwing her lunch and is anxious to stay out of her way till she cools down. He also wants to meet his two friends Mahi Bada and Bothalay. They must prepare a plan to cope with Sunil for the rest of the year.

'Oii Paduma, umbata viveka nähä,' Sunil calls out gleefully. 'Indala panthiya athugapang.'
Hoy Paduma, no interval for you. Stay and sweep the classroom.
Paduma stops at the door. This is far worse than he had expected. He hesitates, wondering if he should defy Sunil; then he catches Miss Rupa's eye.
'Not just today,' she says nastily. 'Let him sweep the classroom every day for this week.'

Sunil collects the broom from behind the door and hands it, as if it were an award, to Paduma. He is grinning broadly. Paduma stands crestfallen as the other children scamper past him. Saro stamps viciously on his foot as she leaves. He stares at her angrily but keeps his mouth shut.

Sunil stays back in class; the joys of the playground are far less attractive than the crushing of Paduma. He makes sure that every scrap of spilt food is carefully collected and removed. If Paduma thinks his chores are now done, he is mistaken. Sunil finds dust and dirt all over the little classroom and they are still at it when the bell rings to end the interval.

The others return to class to find Paduma sweeping under the teacher's desk. Sunil stands proudly by his side, not allowing the broom to be put aside till all the children have witnessed Paduma's humiliation. They murmur comments as they file past him.
'Hari lassanai. Kellek wageymai.'
Very pretty. Just like a girl.
'Gowma witharai netthey.'
Only the dress is missing.

Paduma squirms with embarrassment. He had been a king; they had all obeyed him, admired his antics. Now he is the clown. His instinct is to whack someone, Sunil preferably, with the broom but he knows that it will only get him in more trouble. He grits his teeth and ignores the taunts.
The second session is sheer agony.

What is he to do? He must to restore his lost prestige. The others must look at him with admiration, not with contempt. That is his right. But Miss Rupa takes a hard look at him from time to time, as if daring him to try something.

Paduma racks his brain, forming and discarding plan after plan. He looks at his friends Mahi Bada and Bothalay for support, but they keep their eyes carefully averted, not wanting to attract the teacher's wrath.
An idea begins to form in his head.

Mahi Bada's name is Mahinda but he is short and plump so the nickname is an obvious one. Nilanka had been called Bothalay since the day he brought a bottle of medicine to school.
Sunil, the new monitor, has no nickname.

Sunil has always been the biggest boy in class so the others have not had the courage to make up a funny name for him. If he, Paduma, should think of one that fits Sunil and is both amusing and insulting, it would restore the balance to some degree. If the others pick it up and use it, if the nickname sticks for life, then his revenge will be complete.

He forms a mental picture of Sunil. What does Sunil's graceless shape remind him of?
Then he has it.
The bell rings to signal the end of the school day. The children gather their books and rush to the door but Paduma is there first. He wants the whole class to hear this.
He turns and looks at the Sunil. The monitor is still grinning proudly as he walks towards the door.

'Umba Sunil nevei. Adha indang umbey nama Patholay.'
Your name is not Sunil. From today your name is Patholay.
Patholay is snake gourd. Sunil, with his long shapeless body and tiny head does look like that. The other children begin to laugh and Bothalay repeats the name. Sunil's smile vanishes. He rushes towards Paduma, pushing the others out of his way.

Paduma turns and runs away. No one can run faster than Paduma so he is safe for today.
Tomorrow?
Patholay will catch him for sure, and pound him to a pulp, but tomorrow is far away. Whatever happens, Paduma is sure the nickname is just right. It will stick.

For life!
And all the children will remember who made up that wonderful nickname.
Paduma's heart is singing.

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