The Second Wrld War broke out in 1939, when I was eight years old. For reasons I have
never been able to understand, a sudden demand for tamarind seeds erupted in the
market. I used to collect the seeds and sell them to a provision shop on Mosque Street.
My brother-in-law Jallaluddin would tell me stories about the War which I would later
attempt to trace in the headlines in Dinamani. Our area, being isolated, was completely
unaffected by the War. But soon India was forced to join the Allied Forces and something
like a state of emergency was declared. The first casuality came in the form of the
suspension of the train halt at Rameswaram station. The newspapers now had to be
bundled and thrown out from the moving train on the Rameswaram Road between
Rameswaram and Dhanuskodi. That forced my cousin Samsuddin, who distributed
newspapers in Rameswaram, to look for a helping hand to catch the bundles and, as if
naturally, I filled the slot. Samsuddin helped me earn my fist wages. Half a century later,
I can still feel the surge of pride in earning my own money for the first time.
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