Sunrise On Butterfly Mountain

Published by PereraHussein Publishers in the anthology of children's stories, Vampire Umpire & Other Stories

I remember when I was your age, Malathi's Grandmother said. Every morning, I was so excited! Just because the sun rose up, and I could see it in the sky, and feel its warm rays getting hotter as the day turned towards noon.

Soorya, said Malathi's little brother, who was practising his Sinhala letters in his writing book. 

Yes, their Grandmother said. Soorya like on the box of matches, a red and gold and orange sun, lighting up the darkness all around it.

Malathi was in bed, being dosed with hot coriander tea, because she had been ill with fever. Her little brother Ashvin had asked to be allowed to stay home from school too, so he could keep her company. Malathi felt weak, and her chest hurt from coughing. 

Grandmother patted her hand sympathetically. Normally, this child was full of energy, jumping around, excited by just being alive. But the body sometimes needs to rest, and the old lady thought it was not too early for the children to learn this. Illness is a sign that the body needs to be still for a while.

Let me tell you a story, about sunrise, she said. And I will use word pictures to describe it, and Ashvin can draw them for us, ok? 

Ashvin felt very important, and took out his set of coloured pencils. 

When I was a little bit older than you, Grandmother said, my family climbed Sri Pada. Do you know what that is?

Adam's Peak! said both kids. 

Yes, the sacred mountain of Sri Lanka, Grandmother said. It is sacred to all religions. People climb it as a pilgrimage.

   She explained that a pilgrimage was a long journey that a person went on, to test their strength and faith. Often they make a vow or a promise and then go on the pilgrimage to show how determined they are to keep the promise. 

     They start at the base of the mountain at night.

  After dinner? Ashvin wanted to know. 

  Yes, a good dinner but not too big a dinner, because they have a long climb ahead. In their backpacks they carry food that is easy to eat while travelling.

         What food? Malathi and Ashvin asked in unison.

Like breakfast cereal, Lemon Puffs, and chocolate bars, and fruit, and Nippon Rolls, Grandmother said.

   At first, the path is just a dirt track, leading up to the base of the main ascent. Then there are steps that are carved into the side of the mountain. Steep steps, and a railing to hold onto. You climb and climb, up and up and up, through the darkness, all night. 

      The children's eyes were wide. How could you see the path ahead? they wanted to know. If it was all dark.

      People carry torches, and lamps, Grandmother said.

She told them that, while the people climbed, because the path was built through a wildlife park and jungle area, they could hear wild animals around them, like sambhur deer barking, and the circular saw growl of a leopard.

'Kotiya', commented Ashvin, drawing spots on his picture.

Malathi closed her eyes for a moment. Sitting upright for so long, she was beginning to feel a little dizzy. Grandmother asked Ashvin to ask the cook for some tea and some fresh fruit juice and a plate of sliced mangos.

I am okay, Malathi reassured them. She had been imagining the way the long procession of people would have looked, from a distance, climbing through the night, up the steep steps, with their fiery lanterns and electric torches, like a long, spiky ribbon of light, winding up the dark mountain.

Ashvin was drawing big spotted leopards, elephants, buffalo and deer all staring from the sides of the steps while the people climbed, with the lights from the flares and lanterns shining in their eyes. He drew dark glasses on some of them. 

            On and on we climbed, said Grandmother. Until we were so tired that we had to stop and have some hot tea, like we are having now, and food. My legs felt heavy, and I did not know how far we had come or how far we still had to go before we reached the top.

          Yet there were old people, and people on crutches, small children being carried on people's shoulders, all climbing - and everyone helped and encouraged each other. Each climbed alone, at their own pace, carrying their own burden, but all climbed in the same direction.

         After a while, I did not think about reaching the top or how long I had been climbing. I just kept going, following the steps of the people ahead of me, trying not to get in the way of those behind. 

        Then slowly the sky started to lighten, and people put out their torches. We had reached the top, all of a sudden, and the sun was rising, like the red and gold and orange flaming star on the matchbox, and the long night and all its struggles and fears was over!

         We rang the bell at the top of the mountain, shared our breakfast cereal with others, just eating it by the handful from the box, without milk, and rested a little while we waited to see the twin shadow of the peak, growing long on the ground below. 

           The sun was warming up as it rose, and dissolving the mists of the early morning until they all faded away and the sky was clear. On the way down, we could see birds coming out to dry their wings so they could fly - and there were butterflies - so many butterflies, of every colour and size - some like bright jewels, some looking as if they were made of coloured tissue paper, all fluttering around us, drinking from the flowers and plants which were heavy with dew.

   - Just like you two thirstily drink the fruit juice! she said, and the children laughed.

     Why are the butterflies different colours? asked Malathi. Is it because of the different coloured flowers they eat?

     Will I turn orange like the mango? asked Ashvin, anxious because he had eaten most of it. Malathi was still not able to have much solid food.

        Grandmother explained that Sri Pada, also called Adam's Peak, has another name also: Butterfly Mountain. She said, whenever I feel old or tired, or have been not well, like Malathi has been these past days, I remember the butterflies dancing, their colours glittering around me as I came back down the mountain path, down to the last step, along the dirt track, and back to the guesthouse where we were staying. 

After illness, we become well and healthy again; after night there is daybreak; and when the sun rises we should rise with it.

'Him', said Ashvin, solemnly. 'We rise with him. Soorya. The sun.'

'You have to go to school tomorrow', said Malathi. 

Ashvin gave his Grandmother the picture he had drawn during the telling of the story, and ran to get some more fruit, spilling some unfinished pieces as he went.

     Wait a little, Grandmother said. And in a few minutes they heard a soft rustling sound. It was the gecko lizard, that lived behind the picture on the wall. 

      He drinks my tea, when the weather is hot like this, Grandmother said. She smiled. I always try to remember to leave some in my cup for him.