The Locked Door:

 


Christie’s Escape from the World

Denzil Jayasinghe
·

Christie had never tied the knot. Time was not kind to him, leaving his hairline to recede. His grand aunt fretted over his fate, fortune, and future spouse, urging him to settle down before it was too late. But Christie had devoted his life to educating rural children, using it as his escape and ruse to the family. He was not interested in any company, especially female.

He only visited his sister on weekends when he could escape the solitude of his own room. Christie loved living alone and not speaking to anyone. His room in his sister’s house had its own entrance and a window facing the front yard with metal bars. He kept the window open but always locked the door behind him, avoiding his niece and nephew’s curious glances.

Attending weddings, funerals, and events, he would reply to teasing relatives about his single status, saying, “My job as a teacher keeps me busy. I don’t have room for another commitment.” In his sister’s house, where he stayed on weekends, he felt like the master, contrasting the noisy chaos of his sister’s family.

Christie’s room was a quiet sanctuary, off-limits to everyone except his friend Seneviratne, who sometimes visited on weekends. Living in the front room, he felt as though below him lay an entire society. In this room, filled with silence, only the sun’s rays would come through the window, warming the space.

His sister’s children stared and laughed at him, but he paid no attention. He finished his food quickly, rinsed his fingers, and retreated to his room, locking the door behind him, often to their faces.

One day, an old man in a black coat and a white sarong approached the house. Instead of knocking, he went straight to the window to peek into Christie’s room. “ Sir,” he said confidently. “During my travels, I met a virtuous and charming lady, a Christian school teacher.”

Christie responded with disinterest. The old man continued, describing the lady’s beauty and her family’s wealth, offering a house in Wattala and five acres of coconut tree plantations as dowry. However, Christie remained uninterested; his door stayed closed to the persistent proposals from every marriage broker.

The old man, undeterred, held onto the window grills, leaning his umbrella against the wall. He pulled a photograph from his coat, hoping it would bridge the gap between rejection and acceptance. Pushing the photo through the window bars, he awaited Christie’s response.

Christie glanced at the picture and remarked, “She’s too dark, looks short, and appears unhappy,” although none of it was true. Christie wasn’t interested in any girl; solitude was his preference. The persistent broker refused to let go, hanging onto the window grill, describing the girl and her family in hopes of convincing Christie to meet them.

It became a comedy routine for Christie’s sister’s kids as the broker desperately clung to the window while their nonchalant uncle engaged in uninteresting conversation. Eventually, Christie pulled out a ten rupee note and handed it over. The broker reluctantly accepted the money before hesitantly walking into the verandah, hoping to engage Christie’s aunt and win her support for the proposal.

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Sri Lanka
Family History

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