Island Boy Meets River Boys

City Boy, Country Splash

The Sri Lankan sun beat down, warming the riverbank where a young boy relaxed — the long, noisy school year had finally faded away, leaving him pleasantly drowsy. He perched at the water’s edge, watching the frothy waves lap against the shore. Below the surface, flashes of silver hinted at playful fish coming closer to investigate. He could see the river bed, its pristine sands and plenty of fish in many colours, big and small.

A satisfied smile spread across the boy’s face. He remembered the past term – aced, with the coveted first place trophy now his own. He dipped his bare feet into the cool water, a refreshing contrast to the sun-baked earth. Then, with a playful shove, he sunk his hands deep into his trouser pockets and began to whistle a tune. It wasn’t quite perfect, a fact his classmates loved to tease him about. He could only manage a quiet melody through his teeth, but it felt right in the blissful solitude here. No classmates were around to hear his slightly off-key rendition. He was gloriously free here, miles away from school, by his father’s bungalow.

He paused his whistling, a grimace momentarily replacing his smile. A troop of monkeys caught his eye, swinging and chattering from the nearby trees. Some hung upside down, others made playful faces at him. He watched them tumble and chase each other, a flurry of brown fur and excited shrieks. A pang of longing shot through him. He yearned to join their carefree games, but the warnings of the bungalow workers echoed in his mind. Monkeys, they said, were unpredictable creatures. A bite, a snatched possession – the thought sent a shiver down his spine.

With slow deliberation, he shed his clothes and waded into the cool water. The familiar sensation of warmth yielding to coolness invigorated him. He swam cautiously near the bank, following his mother’s careful instructions. He dove under the surface momentarily, erupting in a spray of droplets that glittered in the sunlight. Then, with a burst of energy, he splashed around, the playful sounds echoing across the water.

On the opposite bank, a group of village boys caught his attention. They splashed and shouted joyfully, some engaged in a friendly water fight. A wave of pride washed over him. Here, he was a visitor from afar, a figure of curiosity. He did stand out – tall and lean with a thoughtful face. His bronzed skin spoke of days spent outdoors, and his slender frame, lacking the boys’ muscles, possessed a wiry strength.

He stretched out on the warm sand, the sun drying his skin with a gentle touch. As he listened, the boys’ chatter drifted across the water, their southern dialect carrying a melody all its own.

The cool water became his playground for most of the afternoon. He was in and out, diving and splashing, a symphony of joyful sounds echoing across the riverbank. Soon, the village boys, initially hesitant observers, had gathered around him, their chatter rising in a cacophony. He realised they were trying to talk to him, their voices a mix of curiosity and something he couldn’t quite place.

“Where are you from? Are you all right?” they shouted up at him.

He stretched luxuriously, the sun warming his back as he stood. “Yes, I’m all right!” he called back.

“Where are you from? Colombo?” came another question.

“No, Dalugama, Kelaniya,” he replied.

“Is your village far from Colombo?” one of the boys pressed, his eyes wide with fascination.

“Not far,” he answered, surprised. None of them had ever been to Colombo. This was a revelation to the boy.

“Do you go to school?” another boy asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said, a touch of pride creeping into his voice. “I was in fifth grade but just passed to sixth!”

“We don’t go to school,” one boy stated simply. “We help our fathers in the fields, and our mothers gather firewood from the jungle.”

The city boy was taken aback. Their lives seemed so different from his own, filled with textbooks and classrooms. The village boys, meanwhile, continued to stare at him, a mixture of curiosity and something akin to awe in their eyes. Suddenly, he realised he was still standing there, naked, the sun drying his skin. With a self-conscious laugh, he pulled his pants back on.

The boys, unfazed, remained gathered around him. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Their laughter filled the air, a sound both innocent and infectious. One boy, clad only in a short sarong, decided to follow suit, stripping down to his bare skin. A whoop of joy announced his leap into the water. The others, a touch more cautious, dipped their toes first, then followed him with joyful shouts. Soon, they were all in a chaotic ballet of splashing and chasing.

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