by BirKibrisli » Thu Dec 06, 2007 7:26 am
I know when I am procrastinating. And I am procrastinating right now.
The next two traumatic events I will describe probably had more effect on my life than anything else.So lets stop silly-buggering around and get to the point.
Soon after the assassination attempt on Father,an older boy on the school bus started befriending me. He was a seniour student,16 or 17 years old.
We soon discovered we had something in common. We both liked our sling-shots,and we had both graduated to air-rifles during the past couple of years. We loved going hunting. I don't think I would've told him I liked the hunt much more than the kill. He kept telling me stories about his hunting exploits with his elder brother.
Then one day towards the end of March,1963 he asked if I'd like to go hunting with him and his brother the Sunday following. We would leave after lunch and be back before dinner. I hesitated...Father had given me strict instructions never to go anywhere with anyone without his knowledge and permission. I knew he would never allow me to go with people much older than myself. It was worth the risk doing it secretly.I could always say I was out playing with one of my friends nearby.
That Sunday after lunch I met A...at the corner shop across the road as arranged. We went upto his place and picked up his elder brother who must've been in his early 20s. I couldn't take my air-rifle with me,but I had my sling-shot. A...had his air-rifle and the Brother carried an impressive looking shot-gun and a large backpack. We headed for the hills North of the village. A...and I were having a great time taking turns to use the catapult and the air-rifle. I shot mainly at stationary targets like stones and cans. He shot at anything that moved. He was as lousy a shot as I was...
The Brother was very serious and seemed preoccupied. He never fired his shotgun even though we came across lots of rabbits and patridges.
A...did his best with his air-rifle,and I did my worst with the catapult. We kept climbing the hills getting more and more away from the village. The Brother seemed to know exactly where he was heading. Soon it started getting dark and I started getting alarmed. There was no way my absence would not be missed. When I suggested we turn back the Brother said he knew a little shepherd's hut nearby,we would go there for a bit of rest and then head back. By the time we got to the hut darkness had well and truly settled in. I knew I was in big trouble with Father,but I didnt want my companions to think I was a sissy. So I said nothing.
The Brother proceeded to light a fire. He said since it was dark we'd better stay the night here. This area was full of EOKA men,it wouldnt be safe to be wandering around. My fear of the EOKA was much greater than my fear of Father. EOKA men were blood thirsty animals,were they not???
They killed women and children,and even babies in arms. They'd skin us alive and drink our blood. TMT told us so,so it must be true. I tried not to show it but I was shit scared. I cursed myself for not listening to Father.
After lighting the fire,the Brother took some bread,olives,and hellim (halloumi) out of his backpack. I think there were some oranges and apples as well. Food was a most welcome diversion. We filled our stomachs and sat back to pass the night.There was an old bed in one corner,and some old mattresses on the ground. The Brother gave me an old blanket and told me to pull one of the mattresses near the fire. I remember lying down and listening to the sounds of the night outside for anything unusual.I remember the racing of my heart,the sweat of my palms,the coldness of my hands. I remember biting my lips hard to stop from crying. It took a long time to go to sleep,but the warmth and the crackling of the fire worked their magic eventually,and I fell into a deep sleep...
When I woke up in the morning A. was still sleeping,but there was no sign of Brother. The sun was up and the fire was out. My bladder was full,so cautiously I walked outside to take a wee. Under a nearby tree sat Brother with another man who I knew to be A.'s cousin. Brother smiled at me and said good morning.He seemed more relaxed. He said the cousin had come looking for us because A.'s Mum was worried. He said Father knew I was with them,so there was no reason to worry.
By the time we got back it was mid-morning. I was hoping Father had already gone to school. But I had no such luck. He was waiting for me at the front door. But the man who stood there with red eyes and an ashen face was not the same man I had breakfast with the day before. He had visibly aged overnight. He walked slowly towards me and put his arms around me holding me very tight on his chest. I was speechless. This was most unusual. Father was not the hugging and kissing kind. He hugged me for what seem like eternity,his body shaking with sobs he was trying to supress. Then he held my hand and led me into his study. He took a wooden ruler and, in a voice almost inaudible, asked me to extend my left hand. Then he gave me 10 of his best lashes with the flat side of the ruler. I never made a sound. I just closed my eyes and waited for the blows to stop. When they did, I opened my eyes and saw Father disappearing into his bedroom. Mother came in next looking like death warmed up. She didnt come near me. "You must be hungry," she said. "Come and have some breakfast."
It took me a long time to realise I played the role of a "hostage" that night. In a deadly game I had no knowledge about. It is obvious now only Father knew how close I had come to becoming a corpse. And what concessions he had to make to my abductors to secure my life. 38 years later,when I stood in his grave while they passed his lightweight body down to me to place in the little brick alcove,it was not the lashes but the hug that he gave me that day that flashed through my mind. I don't remember it but people tell me these were my last words to him as I climbed out of his grave: "Thanks for everything,Baba..."
(to be continued...)
