HOW I BOUGHT A HAUNTED HOUSE

I do hate it when visitors wake me from an afternoon siesta, don't you?

Youre sticky and groggy and you don't know what kind of nightmare it was that you were having and are going to have except that it isnt night, it is the blazing humid tropical equatorial afternoon and you honestly wish you could die rather that face people. 

Ceiling or table fans are just no use. Your brain is fried, and next your eyeballs and you cant even make sense of what people are saying. Your dehydrated gut craves caffine even though you know that will raise your body tempreature by another Celsius or so

This time was no exception and whats worse was the very worried look on my mother-in-law's face, as she peered around my door curtain.

" there are some people here to meet you, and they don't look happy' she said gently.

Which was an understatement – they looked furious, the whole tribe of them, I couldn't remember who these people even were except that I seemed to have done some business with one of them sometime back, but where on earth had they got so many damn backups from ? there seemed to be old people, young people, young mothers, offspring – an entire blooming clan.

I raked my groggy caffine starved mind for any idea of what I could have done wrong to them, because they had faces that were completely synchronised in how they seemed to hate me. 

It had to be one of the properties I had sold sometime back at the start of my forey into the real estate business. There must be something wrong with the deed or something, but then I was completely immune from that sort of thing having carefully drafted a brokerage contract which limited my liability for any subsequent problems which I could not possibly have found out following a reasonable investigation into the background of the place…

I liked to think that unlike tuk tuk drivers I was doing the land brokering business with a sense of ethnics as well as reasonable standard of professionalism. I actually earned my commissions.

"Take it back! It has problems !you are responsible. You said this was a good place, you recommended it " said the wife of the podgy young man who had done the deal with me – I groped among my turgid afternoon drowsy brain cells for his name. It had been Nuwan. He looked like a Nuwan, or a Lahiru or a Sumith- don't you know the kind who has a three wheeler but does other things, trafficking sort of things.   Typically he was being relatively soft spoken and it was his wife who was honestly scaring me now, with the rough way she was handling her squalling new born looing infant while she tried simultanously to shut it up, and to scream at me. I had to sit down to think hard. This was becoming a daylight nightmare.

"Can we discuss this reasonably without disturbing my parents and the neighbours please ?"I asked groping for time.

"Yes we came  here to disturb people. You can pretend to be all civilised. Do you know what you did ?" she howled whilst her chubby hairy thug husband made a charming pretend show of trying to tell her to slow down or pipe down.

"I did not carry out this deal with you, please may I speak to the relevant person," I said politely since anything would have been better than dealing with this female; possibly post partum stress was making her this way, new mothers had some strange hormone issues I hear. I turned to Nuwan (or Lahiru or whoever)-who continued

  " the house, is haunted we there are problems there from the first day – that is why it has been cheap –"yes it blXXXy well was cheap it was 7 laks and that's blxxxy cheap for a two storey house in Sri Lanka, what did they expect for that price ? you cant even build a garage for that amount these days can you? " you have to take it back, we cant live there, you have to give us the money" Hold on a minute, that was not part of the agreement -

" I don't have the money . I got a regular commission remember, you will have to contact the previous oweners and Im not sure that –  " The whole family started bablling at once and it had a decidedly hostile tone to it . They clearly held me responsible for what ever misery happening in that darned place. I wracked my afternoon dozey brain for a recollection of the actual propertly and remembered the day I had gone over to see it . It had been beautiful and yes you couldn't believe that it would be available for 7 lakhs. It was on 15 perches of land to start with so realistically the land value itself in that area was almost 2 laks. Then the house was good, nothing SPECIAL nothing crazy but it was a good house. I had haggled with the owner and brought it down to 6. Which alone should have warned me that there was something really wrong. You cant build a barn with 6 lakhs in Sri Lanka. 

You had to travel in lazy village buses through lovely paddy fields and rubber plantations and this house  was near a tiny darling little stream, overlooking a paddy field …real Sri Lankan serandipity. The only feeling you got from the house was one of being charmed. It just didn't feel haunted.

" Wait a minute? YOU seriously believe this stuff?" I tried to appeal to the threewheel guys macho sense, and put him down a bit for beleiving silly stuff about spirits – I knew his kind and the only spirits they took seriously were the ones you get from Cargils in large crates on the days before Poya days etc. He evaded my parry and looked to his lactating wife for oral support –

you don't know the things that have happened to us , she bagan to screech and I wonderered how this man lived with her, let alone with the spectres supposedly haunting their  new house. You don't know how we are suffering the baby doesn't sleep cries all the time around 6 pm always ( its called colick you dumb lactating bovine, read more of Tharunee or something, I wanted to say- babies get gaseous in the) evenings. Some people should not be allowed to reproduce without a license!!!  ) and then there are sounds terrible sounds in our house (I understood- I was hearing one such just now) and the animals all died, our  pet love birds and the parrots they were valuable and the new persian cat we brought from the animal fair , she was inside the washing machine, dead ok that is really eww, you really should be more careful when you throw in the nappies, count them or something – and then mother fell down the front stairs and broke her hip- (ok THAT I just don't have a real  answer to, have you tried giving her Anelene -its good for the bones - ) "have you tried an excorcism?" I suggested reasonably.

There was another garbled babbling from lots of people including senior citizens,  speaking at once, and the answer seemed to revolve around how much capital they had acutally lost in the process of excorcism. I grinned as I imagined the local kattadi adds where they milked their clients dry based on how gullible they were. OK so that had been done.  

There was nothing for it but plan B

" Look I don't have to do this because its not my problem, but since I like the place myself I will offer you a deal. A very good deal, I must say. And I doing the best I can mind you. . ."

So that's how I bought a haunted house. And its been that way since then, because I didn't have time to visit the place. And Im not really bothered you know, because I believe that time heals everything. And the best thing, is that in the real estate sector- properties appreicate with time, whether they are haunted or not.

So if you are interested I have a lovely little house in Padukka, near a stream and Ill give it to you at cost, for just 8 lakhs. Send me an email. Seriously.

WALPURGISNACHT Having a devil of a time

Walpurgis Night, and the risks of being different

C Gadiewasam

April 30^th which fell last week, was although few modern people know about it, one of the biggest days in the calendar of the ancient witches of Europe in the Dark Ages; or that's what is claimed. It sits at  the exact opposite of Halloween or All Hollows Eve, which is October 31^st and six months away, and much better known the world over.

Witchcraft in Sri Lanka is not a domain of ugly old women, and in fact some of the best known and ' most effective" sorcery is attributed to witch doctors, kapuralas (attendants to the Gods, who actually know their language ) or kattadiyas/gurunanses (witch doctors/demon priests) as the case may be. In practice also, such people have always been held in great esteem and even if they are mostly confidence tricksters, they are paid vast amounts of money for an exorcism or a spell. ( Ive heard that a good one can cost upto USD 7000) So, in general,  Sri Lankan 'witches' have it lucky.

However at a certain time long ago in the history of ancient Europe a powerful hysteria went around among ordinary people who feared that certain women were in league with the devil and responsible for the death and destruction that befell either crops, farm animals,  families or entire towns and villages.  We now know that the Black Death or bubonic plague for just one example was caused by a regular microscopic germ that lived on the fleas on black rats, but in those superstitious and uncivilized times, people preferred to think that this was the work of the Devil and since he was unreachable in practice, they took out their frustrations on some ugly or quiet woman in the village.

Indeed the words 'witch hunt" even now means "searching out and deliberately harassing people considered unorthodox(or different) " in society. So basically this was a situation where no one could win in the end. If you were even marginally different you ran the risk of being accused of being in the league with the devil. You could be extra pretty, extra ugly, have a squint eye or a stutter or a baby brother who walked funny – and bingo you were targeted for torture, flaying(ripping your skin off), scourging(beating your skin off)  and execution at the stake(over a slow fire)!This means  whatever bad stuff that happened in the village like farmer Bills cow dying of foot rot, was your fault , you could be a witch!  But if you did not want to be different you had to agree with the crowd, and say that yes, the pretty girl up the street, or even your quiet aunt Sally with the three cats, had to be a witch. A truly horrible choice, again, because the results of such a conviction were not pretty. This was probably where they came up with the saying being "between the Devil and the deep blue sea"

And this persecution of women, was completely gender biased.  Women had been thought of for very long as inferior and common perception was that they were more susceptible to foolishness and sin. The Devil was a male personification of evil and would prefer female assistants. The prosecutors were mostly male, sometimes celibate, as affiliated to the Church and extremely sanctimonious in their accusations , indeed the more women they tortured and burnt, the more holy and virtuous they felt! Including a number of pretty village lasses who had rejected their advances. .. since there was no decent media or internet to correct the more absurd speculations made by people, the stories conjured up and recorded became quite wild indeed, limited only by the imagination of the scribes and citizens of the era.

So, coming back to April 30^th,  the eve of May Day was a date when the so called "Grand Sabbat" was held, which was considered the biggest festival of witches, involving anything from 10 to 10,000 invitees usually held in some Baltic forest high on a mountain called Brocken in North Central  Germany for example.

 The Devil appeared as a huge black bearded man, or a black goat (!?) or even a humongous toad… He sat on an ebony throne and his witches gathered around. There were the usual formalities such as initiation of intern witches and punishments for those who had not met regional disaster creation targets, and then everyone brought him presents (they had to be black in colour, so you need to try finding black food coloring if you want to take him a cake) . There was also an ultimate act called osculm infame, (which you can google and find the meaning of, if your parents allow you to do so.)

Finally the party, but since it was the sanctimonious and fun-hating religious paragons of the time reporting this, none of the food had any taste, and the participants were hungry anyway. (Something a bit like the pretas of the East who never enjoy their food or get satisfied no matter how much they eat.) And then there was dancing, around a bonfire or the Devil or a Maypole, or some kind of pillar, which lead to worse things. That's what they claim anyway. Who knows maybe they did have witches, or maybe bored groups of people who were somewhat different and needed a ball, what with all the death  and misery going on around; these were after all the Dark Ages!

Authors note: some of the best Hollywood fare around depicting this inglorious and ridiculous era, includes "Black Death" and "Season of the Witch", which you can view, again, if your parents allow you to do so, and if you don't mind being depressed to death.  On a happier note, "Walpurgisnach"is celebrated in a much more fun way by modern day Europeans who camp out, make bonfires and sing and dance the night away…

Ps- dig the artwork- Satyr type fellow is clearly loving it -

Lunch in Elephant Land

Introducing you to the modest Wanapetha "Resort" which is actually a restaurant, affording  tasty hygienic local fare, complete with the fried lake fish from the nearby reservoir . You can find this cute eatery on the Tanamalwila Road, next to the Udawalawe Police Station.( Colombo Monaragala Route, and there is a bus halt right nearby where the No 98 halts from Colombo) 
Adorable simplicity in eco-design more than makes up for the lack of luxury and the simple but delicious local fare, served out of clay pots, includes brown country rice, with favourites such as bitter gourd curry, winged beans and Murunga when its in season,and is absolutely welcome for a tired traveler.
Enjoy a breezy respite from the heat, within the eatery before you head back to elephant-land.

Undead Cadaver

The University  is such a beautiful place, sprawling acres of lawn and the most incredible trees and flowering plants, this looks like a little bit of some other country, maybe England…except of course you see the demurely dressed local girls, who are made to wear long skirts and till some time back were not allowed to wear jeans, for fear of being ragged. And there are occasional tropical plants too.

I don't know whose idea it was to come up with an exhibition of dead bodies, but some bright boy did and let me tell you it was a roaring, jam packed success. People, it seems, love to look at dead bodies. What else would make it that popular? I don't understand us people, its just like when there used to be a bomb blast and we would email around the photographs, or more recently, the mobile phone movies. I have to conclude that we are actually ghouls ourselves, admit it ?

In 2009  there was this 'dead body' exhibit and I remember joining a group of cousins and travelling all the way to beautiful Peradeniya to see this, at their urging of course, boys seem to enjoy being all macho around disgusting things. In fact one of our cousins was a medical student who was in charge of one of the sections of the bodies exhibit and he had managed to get us in without tickets, not that those were expensive really, but it was another element of fun to the boys.

The rooms of the exhibit area were jam packed, full of families, which made me really fear for the state of the Sri Lankan entertainment industry. The turn out was just way beyond any movie or drama launch or bridal fair! In spite of the smell! I mean I can remember that cloying truly sickening smell even now as I write this down, staying at the back of my nostrils and slowly draining like custard, down my retching throat! It was putrification, bowels, and lots and lots of preservative chemicals mixed in, a smell like no other and our rather amateur med student exhibitionists had taken no real pains to seal it away. Well I have to agree, it was a dead body exhibit so what else were the public supposed to expect anyway?

So here for those that dared, were laid out the very innards of our mortality. Slab upon slab of post mortem humans, people like you and me, who had previously laughed, cried, been angry jeolous, in love, but who were now past the expiry date and alas , not allowed some proper rest even then. Some of them were cut open with white and brown bones jutting out of gaping autopsy mutilations. Glistening organs were laid out in trays of thick brown fluid for those who wanted to study anatomy. Im pretty sure though that no one came here to figure out how their liver looked like because really who cares, and there is a reason these things are wrapped up in skin and never seen, and its because they are simply disgusting to look at. Our med student cousin however seemed to think different, and actually picked up a brown and black organ he said was the heart, which had been sliced down the middle and showed us some hedious hollow tubes which were main blood vessels of some kind. I really didn't want to know, that was their business. Some thick stinking fluid was leaking out of it as he prodded and his gloved fingers were coated in it, so we reminded him kindly to stay at away  from us. He was completely enchanted by his lecture and didn't notice that thick blobs of this stuff were splashing here and there as he spoke. I wondered rather dis-enchantedly,  if starry eyed lovers knew that this ghastly, putrid tangle of tubes was what they kept promising each other on Valentines day. 
There was also the "Cholesterol" exhibit, which was actually a very skinny young man who had died of a head injury and was thus headless,  but had very recently died, whom they had cut up to show the amount of fat in a human body. It was crazy. The fat was in thick bright yellow slabs like the ghee you see in supermarkets. I shut my eyes and imagined some overweight people I knew, possibly their innards were all buttercup yellow!
The most interesting was the criminal victim's area. These people unfortunately had no identity, no relations to claim them, no name; so they had been appropriated by the exhibition.  One of them was a completely dried out crusted rigid mummy of a skinny female corpse, which seemed to have been a burn victim and was curled into a fetal position and absolutely stuck in this rigor. Interestingly there was a britle white plaster like substance sticking to her limbs at various places.

"This one moves," said my cousin with a completely straight face, surprising me considerably since I could not dream of any situation in which this wood hard corpse could possibly move. The other fresh ones, yes, but this was as cold,hard  and brittle as a dried tree trunk  " In the morning she is in a different place. It has happened a number of  times. I have asked the Professor in charge we should really retire her. I think her spirit is very restless and it is here, unlike the others who have left and moved on. This one is spooky."

I gaped at him in awe. " You mean the other corpses are NOT spooky?" I asked
" No, not to us, we have an intuition about this, this is science, we don't think of it as dead people we think of it as so much meat, like when you are at butchers the way you think of a side of pork or chicken breasts. Or if you buy a handbag made of crocodile skin, its inanimate. But this corpse may be haunted. She was a murder victim you see,"
"What happened to her?"
"Her husband murdered her because he wanted another woman, and they hid the body by cementing a stove over her ; she was left there for 20 years as these two ate drank and were merry in her own home. Police and relatives were told she ran away…imagine what this poor woman had to go through. The body was only discovered 40 years later, when the man had perished, theoretically poisoned by his new wife, and she had then sold the house and gone away. Someone at the police morgue handed it over to the university since there was no one to claim the body. No rest for this poor woman, not in this life and not in this death. That's why I say this bit of corpse is haunted I think someone should say some prayers over her and cremate her. Before something bad happens."
As I think of that interesting exhibit, and our outstation trip, I do hope they have done so, because the thought of what that poor woman had to live with and the purgatory she suffered after her death is very sad indeed. Little wonder that particular cadaver was restless...

Place of Drying Skins

There is a beautiful stretch of country road, from Hanwalla to Seethawaka, in Sri Lanka as you head for cool Avisawella from Colombo .
Apart from the impossibly green paddy fields and divine river bathing spots, Seethawaka is also a land of rather gory Sinhala legend. The town Hanwalla itself has its name from "place of drying skins" and its probably not animal skins we are referring to here, as some of the old Sinhala conquerors were quite cruel. You can let your imagination take over! Another beautiful town, Labugama, was actually named when a prince once said something like " Oooh would you look at that, it looks like a pile of Labu fruits…" in reference to a large pile of the heads of enemy soldiers…and Seethawaka itself was the place of a famous battle of yore.
Among the reeds, on the side of the Kelani river you can also find the neglected, modest tomb of an ancient  Sinhala king of Seetawaka . Not only was he guilty of boiling a few holy monks in oil because he suspected one of having an affair with his queen, he also once played a trick on his harem and signalled from the battle field that he had lost the war and was dead. The distraught queens all jumped in the river and killed themselves, which must have left him rather numbed to say the least. His tomb is very discreete and has a sad little wooden stick fence round it so you cant imagine that this was a magestic conqueror and VIP personality of many hundreds of  years ago…
However the cool river lined A4 road is now peaceful, bordered by micro sized tea and rubber plantations, bamboo groves, and gorgeous little coconut leaf-thatched road side shacks selling boiled corn, clay items and fruits.
Hanwella has a couple of cute holiday spots like the Natures Resort Bungalow , an Eco Resort named Ambalama, and you can see waterfalls, lush green hills, paddy fields and cool rubber plantations as well as two beautiful reservoirs  which supply water to Colombo ..and so many country roads in paradise.

Make way for Curd & Treacle!

Theres a charming Sinhala saying that no matter how crowded a place is, when the King comes everyone has to give him space…you'll be tickled  to know that this is said in reference to that very Sri Lankan delicacy called buffaloe curd or "Mee Kiri" because no matter how sumptuously you may have feasted at a local festivity, and how full your tummy is, there is always room for a bit of curd & treacle! Its also called Dahi in India and it's a bit like Greek Yogurt they say, although I could not judge that ! Some do say that like the strongest addictions, it's an acquired taste, and personally Im such a fan that writing this blog is becoming difficult, without me wanting to run out and get some… but as a tip, the stuff sold in supermarkets is the sterile "official" version, whearas for the real smoky FLAVOUR of genuine Buffalo, nothing beats the "original" from villages in the  regions of Matara or Tissamaharama, in the South where wood fires are involved and this is made by traditional experts who have done this for generations! 

That leads to another saying about pushy go getter people who make things happen , which is "If he wants it he'll go to Matara to get his curd tonight!" which is all about the extent to which someone would go to get hold of the real deal… 

To make curd, buffalo milk is filtered and boiled, the scum is removed and it is cooled to room temperature. A few spoonfuls of a previous batch of curd are added and it is then mixed well and poured into clay pots.[1] Its eaten with kitul treacle, which is fruity sweet, which makes for a heavenly blend of tangy sour and nectar sweet, as well as a hypnotic mix of colors and textures! …and last but not least,what with traditional packaging is clay pots, and the buffaloes themselves living a comparatively contented lifestyle much of the time lazing deep in mud, which they definitely enjoy, Meekiri is perhaps more cruelty free and environment friendly than many other dairy products around! 

Well, Matara is rather far off, so for now we're going to have to be satisfied with photos of Colombo buffaloes, which, as you guessed, are a bit of a nuisance in traffic. But I do love it that you can see rather wild looking beasts  like this on your way to work on a Monday morning!

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[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffalo_curd

Love your mother tongue - respect the other ones!

Love your mother tongue & respect the other ones!



 
Last month I visited Jaffna for the first time in my life, and wow what a lovely adventure!  I loved the different colours, the different clothes and the sights and fantastic vegetarian cooking, Ive hardly any words to describe how thrilled I was by this land that was so different and yet, our country. Sri Lanka is made beautiful by its diversity,  that is the very differences that make us who we are. Many of you who are reading this article will remember pretty much all your life there was this ethnic conflict/ civil war or whatever,  going on. There were bombs blowing up, Army checkpoints, and sad news on television, people dying and suffering and a general sense of worry. You didn't know if your parents would come back home at the end of the day, after going to work!! For our Tamil friends the situation was worse, they were treated with suspicion, and harassed every where they went in this country, of which they too are equally citizens. Well this ethnic conflict goes back a long way into the past before all the violence and revenge, and one of the reasons it actually started is that the powers that be those days were not sensitive to the rights of all citizens of this country. Thats what we need to understand you see, that all of us Sinhala, Tamil,Muslim Burger and various mixes in between, that this lovely island is ours to have and to hold together.
Let me start with the food for just one example, have you tasted delicious Pongal,  and do you remember the mouth watering sawans that our Muslim sisters send us after Ramadan, and how about those delightful creamy Bombay sweets? Then how about all the wonderful varied characters you meet in life? The different stories, dramas, songs we hear and the colourful festivals we celebrate here, along with so many public holidays...  these all originate from different cultures, and in Sri Lanka we are ever so lucky to have different ethnic communities on one island. But then why were we fighting? For the reasons you'd have to travel way back in history, which might be boring but I will explain it very briefly...some of the reasons are political, meaning people in high positions made unfair decisions, basically so that they could retain power!
One of these decisions was the "Sinhala Only policy" which was made in the late 1950s probably when your grandparents were young.
Now this had some pretty strange paragraphs  which we cant even begin to justify now since  most of the people who wrote it are not around, but basically it meant that all official work should be done in Sinhala and you have to pass Sinhala exams if you wanted to progress in life. This is one of the reasons English was given third place,and then  it wasnt taught for some time,  and now there are only few quality English teachers left in the country. This means that  Sri Lanka is once more in trouble, because when it tries to interact with the rest of the world, all communication is done in English, from scientific discovery to technological breakthroughs and tourism and internet communications - everything needs English
But lets think about the people in Sri Lanka first. We are all equally citizens of this country, Sinhala Tamil Muslim, Burgher or any Sri Lankan. We all live here and we work together to develop it , and we love this country . Being Sri Lankan means we have equal rights, no matter if we are rich or poor, or dark skinned or fair, short or tall, men or women and no matter whatever language we speak. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights,  starts by saying  All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.
The government later realized that this SInhala Only policy was not only being silly, but was causing real problems and making people hurt, so they updated it with new laws about language namely the Official Languages Act and various changes to the Constitution . The Constitution which is the Most Important Law of any country, in Sri Lanka now says that both Sinhala and Tamil are official languages  of Sri Lanka and so any Sri Lankan has a right to speak in those languages, and to get their official work done in that language. This means if you have a water bill, or if you want to apply for permission to build another room to your house, or if you want to register your marriage, basically any official kind of work, you should be able to carry this out in one of those "official" languages.
But do you know what? Yesterday I was sitting at the Central Bus halt in Fort at 7  in the evening, all tired and waiting for the bus to go home when I heard the announcements for the buses to Jaffna and Vanunia, and  they were all speaking in Sinhala. Can you imagine what a poor tired Tamil old lady would feel like if she was waiting for the bus to go to Jaffna and she did not understand Sinhala? She would probably miss the bus, and get into worse trouble don't you think? and what's even worse is that the huge neon lit signboard for the public toilets is in Sinhala and English only, so if you were an unfortunate Sri Lankan who didn't know Sinhala you would find it difficult to find the toilets , except perhaps for how smelly they are! Ok, Im joking, but then think about some serious sign, like something saying "THIS BRIDGE IS BROKEN.". What if you didn't see that sign because no one had bothered to write it in your language and then you went and got hurt? Actually it is the public duty according to the Law of the land, including the Constitution and some other important acts, like the Official Languages Act , that all public places should have notices, announcements, signboards and documentation in all three languages!
So  how about your National Identity card, how about the signboards on your road, or on the bus, or the signs in the public hospital in your area, or the instructions on how to get a blood test, or the directions on a box of heart pills?  Are they written in all three languages?  If not have you thought how unfair it is to some people who might know only one language?  I hope you will spot things like that and talk about it  next time you see them, because for sure something has to be done about them .
That way everyone can celebrate a spirit of respect and friendship and we can see a very beautiful future ahead of us, together in this lovely country.



"Progress in the North" Photo by Priyan Amarasingha

The Jeweled net of Indra

there are ―thousands...of suns, thousands of moons, thousands of continents...Anguttara Nikaya 1.227

In a tropical rain forest in Sri Lanka, a rare endangered yellow frog is discovered which unknown to anyone, may have the key to life in a parallel universe, and the saving of lives in this one.A Cosmic council of intelligent elders decides it may be necessary to commit murder to save its habitat. An unwilling, and unlikely assassin is selected, and activated.

Water in my grave

You hear from the news each day terrible crimes are committed, people like monsters killing other people,  sometimes for money or anger or jelously or to simply snatch a gold chain, and sometimes you cant even begin understand why. It seems like demons are possesing them and making them do things which cause tragedy and pain to even themselves too, because often they are caught and made to pay for their crimes, sooner or later . 

Recently prision staff in Anuradhapura reported a strange case of murder –suicide from inside the prision itself – two men who were caught for a terrible crime, of having abducted and killed a woman, had been arrested but on the third night one of them had strangled the other and then hung himself . What was amazing was that the one who had done this was the smaller and younger of the two and prision officials could never begin to understand how he had got the strenght and the ability to do this, but perhaps after you read the rest of the story you may understand.

This started with a pretty village woman called Seetha whose family worked in kilns, meaning they mined the mud near the Kelani river and shaped it into bricks which were burnt for sale. Their family had lots of land near the river and this had been their source of income for generations, although now the land was somewhat pockmarked with all the digging. 

Seethas husband was a succesful agriculturalist in other ways and planned the mining sometimes a year ahead and how he would roll that money into his other work and manage the income and expenditure for the year. In the year Im taking about his eldest daughter had just decided she wanted to do a rather expensive but well recognised Information Technology course in Colombo and he was trying to figure out how he should fund this.. 

He had one problem, the land that remained to be excavated in that area was some land which had remained with a good reason. His mother had told him long ago that she had some very bad dreams about a river spirit in the area, who had warned them not to dig that land. This warning had been given to him about 15-20 years ago when he was young and impressionable but in his middle age he had grown more cynical possibly because of boisterous friends of his,  and he felt that it was foolish to worry about this bad dream from long ago and more practical to go ahead with his plan of mining that area. 

So this year he dismissed the irrational fear from his mind and went ahead and told his crew to use the clay of the particular area for the next batch of bricks. About 12000 bricks could be made from this block which at the  current sale prices could comfortably see to his daughters education as well as about 6 installments to his tractor lease.

The process of shaping and burning that batch would take about 4 – 6 weeks and after the initial subconcious worries about his mothers warning, he actually forgot it completely as life seemed to go on fine. He was planning how to level the remaining land in this seciton and sell it for some final income.

One night though, as he had been feeling a bit feverish after working in the sun all day, he felt he could not do the final checking round and sent his wife to check the kiln instead. This was not a good idea. 

The family were startled horribly by the terrible screams of Seetha who came running back with her hair awry and her face distorted. Seetha could not even speak for a day or two afterwards, she had been shocked so badly by something she saw. She never did tell them what it was she had seen either but from that day onwards, she was never the same again, and began to behave in a very bizarre way.

Village folks concluded that she must have been possessed by the terrible and vengeful river spirit and lost her mind , but her husband took her to a psychiatrist in Colombo who gave her various lots of tablets and seemed to get her to function normally again. 

No matter how anyone asked,  she would not however tell of what she had seen that night, and it was to become clear that when the sedative effect of the pills faded, she was still possessed by the unspeakable madness that had caught hold of her that night alone in the kiln.

And in months to come, the nightmare was to take on new levels of horror.

To be continued

Stress proof your motherhood...

Life in this modern day and age has become such a relentless rat race that moms in particular, single and or working moms are likely to feel incredible levels of stress, in particular if you are trying to bring up small ones, manage a competitive stance on the career front and hold an important relationship together and sometimes do all of this without extended family support or a partners contribution. We all agree that mothers have so many responsibilities and so little time, so how do they cope? Remember stress will inevitably have its costs in the long run, where later you could get high blood pressure, diabetes, cholesterol and so on, and end up being a long term burden to the kids you love. In any case don't we all owe it to ourselves to be happy in our lives, not just slaves to the system in our own homes?

Having heard  popular complaints such as I don't remember the last time there was "me" time, why is it always me that has to do XYZ, Im such a bad mother Im fed up…we decided to interview a number of ladies on their ideas for how to stress proof motherhood..the ideas were surprisingly uniform!

On top of the list is Time Management- a valuable skill which we learn in the office place which can save us at home! Doing anything at the correct time is always a way of avoiding stress and aggravation, and if you need help in this, create a habit of making lists of things to do, with their deadlines.(hey modern phones are good at this with the little electronic beeps to remind you) Delegate anything that you can to your brood, because they have to learn, regardless of whether they are boys or girls,  they must be able to cope with the difficulties of modern life and what better a way than to train them early! Next comes Prioritizing. Do we really have to go to that cousins wedding, or birthday party or  is there a way we can politely and graciously decline and yet make our sincere best wishes clear? Days of shopping , fit ons , anxiety knocked off in one go(not to mention all that expense- you can use the money saved to send them an honestly useful gift!) . And if you are planning a party, think about your invitees, the simpler you make it the less stress there will be.  Perhaps you can insist on an informal location and informal clothes, instead of the usual showing off! Prioritizing applies at home too, don't obsess about cleanliness if it's at the expense of your temper, as long as the kids are happy and well fed who cares about a few dog hairs on the sofa…and the latest scientific findings are that pets are good for you too, just train them first. Take time to be thankful for the Special moments in life, like clean sun dried cotton laundry…watch an occasional comedy with the kids, taking the dog for a walk, teaching little ones how to grow tomatoes or make pol sambol, or going shopping or when your seven year old decides to make you some tea. Don't try be a perfectionist and DON'T agree to do too much, there are only so many hours in a day and you deserve some time for yourself too! Keeping yourself happy is NOT a CRIME, it is finally for the good of your child! In Austrailia, a lady called Amanda Cox, mother of three, has actually formed the Bad Mothers Club, where she and fellow "bad" mothers support each other over why they gave up in the race to become perfect .

Finally…one very important tip that I found from talking to my friends was "STOP LISTENING to people trying to judge you!" which is very true. People (ehem, women mostly) have a tendency to say mean little things like Oh how skinny your kid is…or such a pity she had to wear braces…or you should do this, you should not have done that. As long as your kids know you love them, and you know you are doing your best for them, do allow all those nosy old in law aunts to go fly kites.

image from http://www.everydaylifeandbalance.com/quick-tips-to-help-you-let-go-of-stress.html

Serendipity

Serendipity has always been one of my favourite words
For a long time I didnt know what it meant but associated it with eating Marie Biscuits and Ambul Kesel, on a quiet Balmy afternoon in my grandpas antique house in Unawatuna( those old houses with the fancy trelis work and wooden windows with bars across...and the doors are double doors with glazed windows in them...the cupboards are full of thick cotton sheets which smell of sunshine), with the rustling of coconut trees outside, and the distant sound of a fisherman on a bicycle saying maaalmaalohhh...and of course some friendly cat squeaking nearby...
His house had a dusty old attic full of olden novels, including a 1952 Famous Five book and one of the first editions of CS Lewis "The Magicians Uncle" which itself is about kids who discover a wardrobe which leads into a different world... for a loner  kid who loves to read, that attic was simply enchanting.
When I looked it up in the dictionary I believe I got it right perhaps by sheer instinct, because the attic was certainly a serendipitous discovery in serendipity...:-)

Photo: Sri Lanka Tourism website

Emma's Luck

…one of the sweetest wierdest funniest saddest most REALISTIC little tales Ive read to date, totally blew my mind– I can hardly begin to describe it. It has a farm, hideous memories of child abuse, fantasy, horror , love, hate and pancreatic cancer and yet….it manages to be funny too ! –not an easy combination at all but perhaps it's the real dialogue that does that

"but you wanted a chicken didn't you?'

"I didn't want its head to be cut off!!"

"would you rather cook it with its head still on?"

"Oh for Heavens Sake!"

"Do you want to put the chicken in the wine alive with its feathers and all?"

"No I want a proper chicken from the super market , or even a freezer , a frozen chicken wrapped in plastic"

"so how do you think the chickens get into the supermarket and freezer? Suicide?"

Emma is a wonderfully practical strong and kind character , putting Eat Pray and Love into the shadows with her own sweetly psychotic  blend of "live, kill and laugh" – at one point in time she reminded me of the mad nurse in Misery but in a very positive honest way and I was actually worried for her new pet…her fantasy is to save her farm somehow for which she needs money, and to find a man- both seem to be answered one day when she finds a crushed Ferrari in her potato field with an unconsious man in it…

You will relate to this if you are an animal lover, or a strong single woman or someone very  afraid of terminal cancer…this has all three. And lots of squealing cute piglets. Who become "Happy Pork" And a unlikely characterful rooster who is possessive about Emma. And a unlikely beau named Max who slowly gradually, reluctantly,  falls in love with Emma.

But from then onwards the story that develops is absolutely unpredictable, is all I will tell you

Emma's Luck had me gasp, and hold in tears  at one point and its been a long time since a cynic like me could be moved that far.

Emmas Luck is available at the Colombo Public Library Acc No 78688

 

Liberian Girl Power

There is a superstition, I hear,  in west Africa that if a elder/married woman bares her backside at you, you will practically turn to stone or be so cursed that you are as good as dead.- men who are exposed are considered dead. No one will cook for them, marry them, enter into any kind of contract with them or buy anything from them according to Wikepedia.  Well, today I learned how this and a threatened sex strike allowed a lady named Leymah Gbowee to strengthen a women's peace movement that successfully quelled the Second Liberian civil war leading to the end of the cruel dictatorship of Charles Taylor ... and brought to power Africas first democratically elected female president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf. A stirring documentary  film,  Pray the Devil Back to Hell released in 2010, highlights this saga, and its one film I intend to get my hands on this week.  

Along with Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and Tawakkol Karman,  Madam Gbowee went on to win the Nobel Peace Prize for 2011 for her " non-violent struggle for the safety of women and for women's rights to full participation in peace-building work".

Nobel Laureate  Madam Leymah is currently in Sri Lanka and will be participating with the Association of War Affected Women in presenting a  Sri Lankan Women's Agenda for Peace Security and Development to the Government of Sri Lanka, in Kandy today.

When we asked the charming Leymah what her message was to the women of Sri Lanka, her answer was simple " Put aside your differences, of ethnicity, religion, caste, class, and stand together to demand what is right for this country and for your children!" 

Tovil for Soma Part 2

Tovil for Soma (part 2)

By Nadeesha Paulis.

 

Dusk merged into intense darkness as the bright lights and the rhythmic beating of the drums soon drowned out the horrified gasps of on lookers. The Kattadiya and the broken white clad figure on top of the roof continued their arguments. Under the control of the evil entity, the eyes reddened, mouth foaming and sweat drenched figure was now home to not one but two souls, one of the daughter and one of the father who was evil beyond belief. All his life he had been a cowardly low life thug, but now death had released him from any inhibitions about the law.

 

The exorcist  in turn was not ready to back down. He began to mock the demon. He provoked the entity by poking fun at his choice of victims. "Have you no shame to possess this little girl? You think this is something great? Any other man would possess someone far more difficult to control." For which the rasping voice replied "This belongs to me. And I shall do with it whatever that pleases me! I always have done whatever I want! " this compelled the entity to further prove his point by shaking and jerking the body violently. Anger aroused in the entity seemed to be dangerous but, the kattadiya knew what he should do next. He began playing the 'straight-man' and directing clever and crude insults at the spirit.

 

His aim was to invoke the spirit, to believe itself foolish and deprived of significant intellect as compared with others. The wordplay used continued to disorient and confuse the spirit. He continued to degrade the actions of the spirit as though they were done by someone mad and stupid so that the proceeding conversation resulted in the loud outbursts of laughter by the audience. The tension of the atmosphere began to lessen as the on lookers too joined in the verbal insults with loud wolf whistles and applauses as though the whole enactment was a drama done to amuse them and not scare them. Many crude words escaped the girl's mouth in that frightening voice focused at the kattadiya. But the amused atmosphere of the crowd proved otherwise.

 

The Kattadiya conducted this drama well, under the logic that what you can't take seriously, you can't fear.

 

Finally…'Look at you, running about in a woman's clothes," jeered the kattadiya which was accompanied by hoots from on-lookers 'who would have thought that the great tough Barawe Chandiya, would finally be reduced to this one day? We can see your frilly knickers!'

 

 

This was altogether more than the entity could bear and a spine tingling roar of frustrated rage shook the air as the body lifted into the air, went limp, fell to the roof and  began to roll off  as though it weighted as much as a rag doll.

 

Men nearby, cousins of the unfortunate Soma, managed to rush to the spot with an old mattress with which they managed to catch the body of the girl before it fell brokenly to the ground. They laid her on a white cloth so that the unconscious girl was safe. She was thankfully still breathing and very much alive although some of her bones in her fingers seemed to be broken. The kattadiya continued to chant certain prayers and charms in order to build protective barriers against any future intrusion of the evil spirit. More charms were placed around the outside of the house, to ward off any bad spirits, demons or other misfortune from coming closer to her as she was in a weak state.

 

No further paranormal activity was reported by the family and that the girl in time recovered from her physical wounds. A cleansing on the house had been carried out and a priest had preached 'Bana' in order to calm the mind of the unfortunate girl. The family and relatives sadly admit that the girl never did truly recover from the ordeal and the fear she had for her father. And of course she was fated to be shunned by traditional society and no one would marry her because she was supposed to be 'the one who ran about hoisting her skirt'.

 

an unfortunate series of , no wait, a really tragic, useless, BLOODY INEXPLICABLE series of events..

Another wierd link I stumbled on when researching that story...http://www.srilankaguardian.org/2010/08/soldiers-view-part-two.html

And here is the text of the clip which I wanted to find
Police in Anuradhapura have arrested two suspects in connection with the rape and murder of a pregnant woman.The victim's body was found hanging from a tree near Kandy Lake on July 27.The 40-year-old, who was mentally unstable, had left her Hanwella home following a dispute with her husband three days earlier.
--
Well, Journalists do mess up more often than not.  this story is sad on so many counts, since the woman was not necessarily mad as it not so subtly implies here, and there certainly was no dispute with her husband, who I know for fact is as grief stricken as a man can be- and also because she was pregnant with a son they had dreamed of all their lives, and in might actually have been this unborn son which caused her death. Wait, you say, murder, rape,and  youre blaming a  fetus....?!?Well I shall tell you how it happened . What made me so shaken up was the whole pointlessness of this death, the whole glitch in circumstances which need never have happened and yet they did, leading to the needless misery of so many people, not the least of whom are the 2 young rapists/murderers who I kid you not are currently suffering physically at the hands of the Sri Lankan Police as we speak ...

I dont know why this kind of thing happens...co incidences which make and break lives, I cannot explain them and you will understand my bafflement when you read this story, which you have to believe me is true. Im not a journalist, Im technically their neighbour- the best source.

to be continued

Now You See Me - Aug 14

This book of mine, which begs to be written, begins with a Dastardly Murder and Rape (not mine and not in that exact order) but I admit it shook me up. Remember the land I told you I bought, in Hanwella. It made me so happy...according to the UN or something, only 1 per cent of the worlds land is owned by women, astounding as it sounds. well thats food for thought since you will agree it is land that sustains life....anyway, about the land I bought in Hanwella near a large stream and rubber tree estates, so picturesque with water buffaloes furrowing about nearby , endangered and migratory birds crooning from the trees and a rumored family of small esturine crocodiles in the stream? well for the price of about 1500 Dollar, I owned a small patch of Gods Earth, where I could finally lay my bones some day in the hope that they would not be disturbed. Thats what I thought and still think...but now to the murder.
Its quite a sad story with hints of occult, and crimes of passion and it makes you think about life and love and being at the wrong place.
here is the small clip she was afforded online http://srilankamirror.com/news/710-2-arrested-for-rape-murder-of-pregnant-woman but there are much more detailed stories in the Sinhala papers (local audiences just love some good gore, Im pretty sure my idea for a  paper with only good happy  news will not sell much in this country- or heck , anywhere) ...
anyway the full story goes ....

to be continued

Tovil for Soma

Tovil for Soma.By Chandrika Gadiewasam

One evening a few weeks after their father’s death, Soma was lighting a lamp to a God in their garden, when she felt her wrist twist, like in a cramp. It was six thirty, that moment between dusk and night and the pain made her almost faint, and then both her wrists began to twist backwards, as well as the fingers on her hands, as though some invisible bully was trying to make her cry. And cry out she did since the pain was so intense, in the next fifteen minutes as she fell writing to the ground in front of the lamp, helpless in the grip of her own body which was spasming against her control, the extremities stretching unnaturally in impossible directions.
The pain was intolerable.
This was the beginning of Soma’s possession, and it did not cease though she was taken by her mother to a neurosurgeon , since they thought it was some kind of nerve disease. The free government clinic of course gave a date for a next appointment three months later, but since the medications were not working and the spasms continued Soma’s suffering mother begged money from her brother and took the girl to a private clinic. They found nothing wrong but listened in vague disbelief as mother and daughter told of how the girl’s body would contort in incredible positions. Her involuntary screams of pain too would be unnaturally guttural as if an angry man was shouting from her throat, which they thought was due to the pain involved.
The doctor gave her various sub classes of vitamin B, lots of it, and it made her nauseated. Within a few weeks as her family watched in helpless horror, the grunts and shouts of pain she made were converted into inexplicable Sinhala curse words which Soma would never have dreamed of uttering in her sound senses. The kind of words that the dirtiest thugs in the meat market would have used in a drunken brawl. Words which she didn’t even know. Her mother and sister figured it was the pain which made her swear like this but couldn’t understand how she developed a man’s voice; it was a fairly familiar voice too. She sounded like her father had, those days.
The village elders understood what had happened.I was a witness at the exorcism of Soma and it was an incredible fight we witnessed. Imagine the background of drums, gruesome masks and coloured lamps, a slaughtered cockerel, and the oil painted exorcist chanting century old mantras to evict the possession. It was her father possessing her, and he was a cruel drunk village thug who had beaten up his family members often and taken their food money for his gambling. He was also accused of other darker crimes abusing his daughters which no one could even speak about. He was dead, but he was not ready to give up the evil his life had brought to their family. He made her body behave like a monster intent on causing her pain, and twisted it self into contortions which were painful to watch.
She hoisted her skirt up like a thug in a drunken brawl and climbed onto the roof of her house from where to shout unspeakable obscenities in the midnight ceremony, weaving drunkenly across the roof, so that eye witnesses were praying that she would not fall. The evil entity that had been her father said it would continue exploit her, would not leave ‘ his family’ and would not let go, he demanded that they serve him they were his ‘property’ he said.
The Kattadiya(demon-priest) and the entity fought a three hour long argument, where Soma’s body was the battle field and her pain was of no consequence, and at the end of the three hours it seemed like the evil entity was winning. Soma’s mother rocked and keened in tears of anguish as she heard bones break in her daughters body and watched her hang like a rag doll across the roof tiles. Nothing seemed to be working, and the possessor kept insisting that he had the right to stay.
To be continued

BRINGING UP CHIPSY

Have you ever had a baby chipmunk on your hands? It’s a common situation I know in Sri Lanka where these tiny high-metabolism rodents get themselves into all kinds of trouble and then leave us wondering what to do. Sri Lankan mornings seem to be all about crows cawing, cocks crowing and chipmunks ting-ing to wake you up. At least since Im lucky enough to live in the suburbs. To be honest I am quite astounded at the sound a chipmunk makes in relation to its body size.
Chipsy is our latest family member though she is much smaller than a regular rat, she commands incredible love from all of us. We hardly dare breath with the wonder of her tiny delicate existence. Outside, Itchy the cat and Foofy and Mucky , the stray dogs are breathless too, but sadly its mostly with insane amounts of jealousy and repeat murmurings of “just you wait” . Sadly orphaned when her mother was gobbled by one of our backyard dwelling stray mutts, Chipsy too is a tiny and very transient miracle. I have no idea what her future will be, but I’m pretty sure predators out there are monitoring it. I try my best to protect her, with rather fanatic determination. It should be possible, for man who walked on the moon, to bring up and release a chipmunk successfully. I do not want to hold her in a cage. Next week I will tell you how best to look after a baby chipmunk.
For more photos and videos of Chipsy, read my blog www.chiptipsy.wordpress.com

TIPS FOR BRINGING UP BABY CHIPMUNKS
1. Do not give them powdered milk, or cow’s milk. The best for their delicate tummies is goat’s milk, diluted half half with boiled warm water.
2. You can feed them through a ball point pen, with the barrel removed and a cotton wick passed through the nib -space; it has to be a brand which does not have holes in the barrel. Strangely for the moment all I could find was a brand named “RADIENT” and I made the stationary shops very puzzled with how much I tried looking for this brand. Use the hold in the back to control the flow of the milk so that not too much comes.
3. Be really clean with the feeding equipment, don’t let the milk get sour; don’t let the pen get dirty. Change the wick daily, or better still, at every feed.
4. Keep them clean. Don’t let their fur be sticky with old milk etc. wipe with a ball of cotton wool dipped in lukewarm water , but make sure they are warm afterwards
5. After nourishment, the single most important thing to keep a baby chipmunk alive is warmth. How you keep them warm is simple, fill a plastic bottle with warm water, not boiling hot, but quite hot, put it in a sock or wrap it in a towel and then place the rodent on top of it. Baby chipmunks love the heat and stay sticking on this contraption for ages.
6. There’s the delicate and unmentionable matter of pee. Baby animals often cant pee themselves, and need the mothers “stimulation” aka licking for that too. If this is not done, they literally (and it must be a terrible way to die) could burst. All we can do is use a small ball of cotton wool or a cotton bud dipped in comfortably warm water, to wipe their unmentionables till they do pee. It takes patience, and yes, it has to be done, for the tiniest of baby orphans.
7. Last but not least, do not handle them by their tails, these can and do come off and that HURTS.

Shores of Another Sea Part Two

Shores of Another sea Part Two

part one was here

The tsunami struck Matara at 9 23 on the morning of Sunday the 26th December 2004. I was in a small 30 seater inter-city bus on the coast, with my beloved father and a dear friend named Dieter. There were perhaps 3 minutes between us and a monstrous, 30 foot high, wall of destruction ploughing directly towards us at the speed of a runaway train.
This was the most terrifying moment I have ever faced and perhaps ever will. Thousands of metric tonnes of churning, raging, impersonal annihilation was coming straight for us. We were staring certain death in the face. I could not move.
Passengers in the bus had begun screaming in panic and grappling their way out. Human decency had given way to a sheer atavistic desperate race for survival. They had chosen, tragically for everyone of them, to outrun the wave.
I felt screams locking up my throat but somehow I was too weak to even let them form. I was simply paralyzed. I knew we had to run, but looking back at my father and then the wave, I simply couldn't move. I turned to Dieter, choking incoherently, feeling my breath twist in panic.
"No," he said, suddenly holding me by both shoulders, as if to shake me, but I knew it was simply to give me the strength I needed now. "Listen to me" he said. "Breathe!"
There was a moment where I thought I would lose consciousness but mercifully it passed. I looked into his steady blue eyes. They were very calm. "We may die anyway. "He said, turning to his mother tongue which he knew I would instinctively pay attention to, since he had taught this to me for so long. "We have to face this, my gazelle, so we must be strong. We will not run like wild goats but face this with dignity"
He released me suddenly and moved as quick as a dancer over to the doors, which he pulled shut firmly. Suddenly there was only one sound in the world. The engines had been gunned, the screaming had faded, there was only the roar of the wave, and it was coming closer.
Dieter reached me as quickly as he had gone and we sank into our seats again, in a strange little huddle, my father on one side, me in the middle with tears streaming down my face because no matter what Dieter said, no matter what happened to me, I could not bear to think of my beloved father dying this way- because no matter how brave I tried to be, this was that final moment I was going through and I was bewildered and unprepared.
And then the wave hit us.
The bus simply lifted off the ground. Dizzyingly, unbelievably it was being pushed along at a un definable speed, without any kind of resistance for uncountable yards inland. We braced ourselves…there was suddenly an obstacle of some kind and then there was a strange silence.
I knew we were now underwater, stuck against something. Little trickles of water pushed in at the seams of the windows. The curtains were still drawn and I did not want to look out.
Minutes passed and we cried our prayers quietly. In those moments, I faced sheer unbelievable terror: I also found out the meaning of true love: I felt the unbearable dread of losing my beloved father above all, and then Dieter took, from around his neck , his most precious talisman, a locket with the beautiful face of Mother Mary engraved in it , which he slipped into my hands, with a quiet prayer and a small smile , asking me to be strong for him.

The world had grown silent except for sinister gurgles of water trickling in through crevices of the vehicle. And yet we knew that there were strong currents pushing at it, and heavy bodies of matter passing close by. There could have been trees, debri from the destruction , whatever was pushed along by the current- in my minds eye I saw the bodies of my co passengers of late dragged helplessly along.
There was terrible brooding power in this silence.
And then, agonizingly, slowly, the water began to subside.
It would be over.
We had made it- strangely, unfairly we had been spared. We who were perhaps the most ready to die, had been allowed back to this earth. Because Dieter had not let us run, we would live to see another beautiful Sri Lankan day. I will never understand why.
The bus had lodged into a building, someones house, about a kilometer inland , which I heard was something that had happened to quite a few vehicles that day. But out of all passengers who entered that bus , we were the only ones that had survived.
The following hours were a dizzy haze I can barely recount. There were bodies everywhere, blank faces, mutilated people , the injured running vacantly around , and at some point I was carrying twin babies of about six months of age , whose bodies I had found in a car , and I was crying inconsolably. I cannot accept the fate that had led me to them, they were beautiful and as I recount this story the tears are beginning to flow again. I remember praying that some day these two lovely children would come back to me.
If ever I had children I wanted their souls to be reborn as my own children. They deserved to live, and to be happy and to play on the beach.
My people too miraculously, were safe, and Dieter remained in the country a few weeks more, the caring, gentle soul that he was, helping people wherever and however he could.
Continuing on the journey he began on the 26th of December, he subsequently left the country, left my life totally and he did not look back.
Something changed that day to all of us, and to Dieter, it was a flash of realization.
That there was a meaning in life and a meaning in death and that there had to be a way towards understanding both. This was something he had to search for. He had seen a higher calling, had laid eyes on the shores of another, darker more dangerous sea, one that we must all escape from someday
I understand this.
Time passed.
In time I met a wonderful and understanding man of my own race, who helped my heart to heal and my soul to sing. Just last month we were married, basking in the delighted smiles of our parents and all our relations.
The beach is clean and sunny again, life is good to me and the future looks promising.
But, I will not forget Dieter for as long as I live.
And now you understand why.

The Environmental Impact of Vesak 2011

Floats, displays, Buckets, lanterns, “pandols,” flags, posters, cutouts, banners and swathes of bulb vines were festooned in a bewildering, dizzying display of colour, this Vesak in Colombo.

Loudspeakers were placed every few hundred yard, food outlets feeding not necessarily the hungry with offerings in little polythene bags, Halloween masks, music and disco lights expending copious amounts of electricity, polythene and plastic reminded any absentminded Buddhist who was unaware of it that we should be forcefully and effectively, and merrily and COMPULSORILY celebrating the birth of the Buddha. The UN has declared it a world wide national day, so we had kind of won in making other less civilized nations recognize us.

No half hearted, quiet displays of contemplation were allowed, each home, each street each institution, competed raucously to put more orange and yellow polythene and more electricity out in the name of the Buddha. Apart from the sheer tonnage of colored polythene and now, garish completely untraditional lanterns imported from China, (a country known in the civilized world for horrifying animal abuse) there was the incredible weight of evidence of carnival like feeding frenzies of mobs of citizens and their offsprings – ice cream wrappers, biscuit wrappers, food wrapping polythene and soft drink bottles and what not, thrown all over the city by people who clearly thought that Vesak was an excellent an excuse to litter compulsively.

Road sweepers were spotted dazedly trying to manage the damage the next day. It was as though a small religious cyclone had hit the country. So much sheer CELEBRATION! 2600 years of SAFEGUARDING Buddhism , we DID it! its all because of US that Buddhism is still around here!! The PURE SORT!! NO one else even knows what Buddhism is like, so much as we do! Sri Lanka is the one place in the world where pure Buddhism is safeguarded. Says who? Well, says us of course. Its true its pure and its safe here, if the noise is anything to go by, if the carnival atmosphere of jubilation is anything to judge by- we succeeded!!

I wonder if the Buddha would have agreed.

I fantasize and picture Him coming down and walking among us, dressed in normal clothes so as not to arouse suspicion.

He would probably be thinking “these poor people, I told them about suffering about impermanence and about being at one with the universe about being kind to animals and to this earth we share. I told them to live good lives and be kind to people and try and find a way out of samsara; What in the WORLD are they doing with all these blinking lights ? They are missing the whole POINT!! Jesus! ”

Child abuse, suicide and alcoholism rates are the highest in the civilized world,according to the WHO and UN but according to us we have the "purest" Buddhism. We measured it, on a kind of authenticity scale... Traffic accidents caused by the negligence of regular civilians who could not care less for the life of their fellow man are some of the highest in the world. Women throw babies in rivers, grandfathers rape baby girls, people eat the meat off cows legs while they are still alive, hakka patas traps kill wildlife slowly over weeks, corruption, lies and thuggery are all so normal we simply live with it all and ignore it like the mosquitoes, unaware that there are other non Buddhist countries where these things don’t happen. Countries where perhaps there is not so much noise and light and polythene for Vesak. Where, you know, the Buddhism is less pure.

What am I complainng about you wonder ? Who is this fancy author to tell people how they should celebrate the birth of the Buddha ??? what a party pooper!! Vesak balanna giye nadda?
Well- Im not that religious. I prefer to sit and do silly, lazy things like meditate in my little rented annex . And read old Dhamma books. And plot for a way of going as far away as possible from this madness the next time it comes around.

A SMALL BUT IMPACTFUL ADVERTISING SOLUTION

When you flush do you know how the soap and detergent goes into your land? What did people do before soap? Have you thought about how your day to day life affects the world? And can you just imagine how the invisible waves around us, the so called SIGNALs must be affecting our heads? Will the whole of humanity find out too late that the results of the greatest biological experiment of all time – is quite ugly ? who can tell?

These are the interesting things I discussed in a chance interview with a fellow called Niranjana Wicremesinha the mind behind the striking, award winning CMEV NO TO VIOLENCE poster ("PRACHANDATWAYA EPA"), who heads his own Advertising gig called MEDIA PLAN.

Niranjana seems an ordinary chap but in quite a few ways has extra ordinary thinking in that he dosnt think the way your “typical sri lankan” does and has a very questioning and creative mind capable of lateral thinking – very refreshing in the local atmosphere.

You can contact him on mediaplansrilanka@gmail.com and 777749924 and 717749924 for any out of the box idea solutions with a definite sensitivity to sri lankan outreach which is something I believe the big advertising firms sometimes over look since their talent is more cosmopolitan.

Airtel & Knickers,

This week I received a forwarded email of the craziest thing Ive seen in a long time, camera phone shots of a woman's legs taken secretly from under a table, which are supposed to belong to a pretty Airtel Employee, whose regular photo was also sent with her face circled. looking below in the list of people who had forwarded it there were womens names and the name of another Airtel Employee.

well, being your regular unshockable broadminded lady writer, I admit I do get a lot of porn, tasteful and otherwise forwarded by various hyperactive friends..but this was a fellow Sri LAnkan, and the photos were taken clearly without her knowledge, and these were so pathetic, just photos taken under a table of a womans legs
predictably yours truly lost no time in telling them what she thinks of them and is sure they wont even by mistake send her such emails again...
but can you beleive it, the men justified it saying it was to correct her...
heres one reply:

I read your mail with mixed feelings. I am sorry that I cannot fully agree with what you have said in this regard. We have to consider both side before we form an opinion. And we cannot be bias based on our genders. Here I think you have formed an opinion based on you being a woman. Guys may have got other things to say.

I just think of a similar situation where a man shows off his genitals in an office environment or a public place for becoming sexy, what will ladies say or how will women behave in such a context? In Sri Lanka, according to criminal law, a man can be punished for showing off his genitals in public, but not a woman. (What a fair justice!). Being a woman, you can just show off your private area to me by raising your dress up or put down your knickers, but if I do it to you, I will surely be charged in a court and put into jail. I personally think as a society where both genders have got equal rights today bear equal responsibilities for decent behavior and decent dress in an office environment or in a public place. If a girl can ignore what she displays or to what extent she exposes her private body parts to others in an office environment, I am sure her male counterparts won't be possible to work there by concentrating their minds on their work all the day through. Ultimately, the company will be bankrupt sooner or later. I also think the company has equal responsibilities to enforce a dress code for all its employees where normal decency levels are protected and guaranteed. If not, sooner ladies will come to work in bikinies and guys in their jocks. I closely watched the last picture in order to ascertain whether this girl has worn a panty at least to cover her private area sufficiently. But I doubt she has at least worn her kinckers as this picture clearly shows. What a pathetic situation! Or else is this another fashion of THIS INSANE MODERN SOCIETY. This kind of STRIP show OR BODY EXPOSURE by a working girl in a working environment cannot be accepted by any means.(If so we also need to ignore a guy showing off his penis under a table in pretext of cooling off his genitals in an office or for mere fashion). Also taking undercover pictures by her own stafff cannot be approved on the other hand. You see the pros and cons of such a situation. I cannot say anything if an over-sensitive guy started masturbating in this office once he saw this girl unlocking her tighs wide open time to time without any concern for men around or even ignoring the fact that she has not even worn an underwear. In Sri Lankan culture if you have a daughter, sister, wife like this, I think you should be honestly ashamed of her insensitive and careless behaviour or else you should commit suicide. It is o.k. for anyone to behave as they wish behind closed doors or in their private places, but not in public places like an office. If a girl cannot wear enough to cover at least her private parts, what will happen to our next generation. Young men will come wearing see-through pants where their privates parts can be seen easily. In this type of environement, do you think you can make your son a good man with fear to commit sins. Any young guy with natural feelings won't be hide his feelings before this type of hot exposures by an opposite sex even under a table. We know how men feel and women feel. Psycologically too both genders are different in sexual arousal. I think we should teach young women how to dress in public places and guys how to ignore mere nakedness of sexy & horney women in their work places in first place. It does not matter you have sex with anyone you prefer, but you need to ensure that society's age-long norms are protected. You cannot do certain things in public and can do it privately. Just because your body belong to you, it is not ethically correct to show off each and every bit as you prefer or wish. Remember you have got your freedom to circle your stick until you reach other's nose. Otherwise, this society will be a place where wild-ass freedom prevails.This is just my thought. You have the right to agree or disagree.

a month in Allys life

20 7 2009 : Rat emergency in ceiling – smell goes up they say
20.7.2009 Went to Trinco with team. DS fighting with AR in the backseat because she touched his hand. Saw CK, He is cute,like a hobbit.
22.7 2009 Asked David Blacker for a kitten. He said he had already given one away.XX corresponded by SMS and said the hotel I had recommended was lovely
22.7.2009 Mrs AS asked me to find her a job. Broker TF kept proposing to me
23. 7 2009 Got a kitten from a strange woman in kotikaawatta. Patchy happy
24.7 .2009 RS says “I don’t know what is happening to me”
25 7 2009 Mrs AS leaves home finally and tearfully
27 7 2009 ASIW fights about chair and dosnt talk to me all day. I found how not to take men seriously from now on. Have two and switch when overdone.
27.7 .2009 C akki went back to USA – I didn’t go to see her this time I feel terrible,
278.7.2009 DS gets interested in NR
31.7.2009 RS says “will you marry me?” unfortunately he is already married
2.8.2009 back in touch with Dancer Dayan after so long
4 8 2009 WJB falls down the stairs in his socks.
9.8.2009 MB says his friends father died
11 8 2009 Major L texts from Indonesia saying would I like anything. Im honestly touched.
12.9 .2009 read up on UNIFEM (Bill and womens charter)
25.9.2009 Mrs AS catches her husband doing something to a woman with a metal stick.
26.9.2009 Mrs AS justifies paranoia saying she is stuck in this “gost prisan”

Life is a Woman

Life gave you to her.

you grew inside a woman
you were born tearing her apart,
grew drinking her blood..

life gave her to you and night after night
you found heaven through a woman
and kept tearing at her flesh,

but life fades,
you will one day be old and weak
and a woman will guide your clutching,frightened hand.

did you ever stop to wonder if
Death is a woman too,and she will
lead you -gently-to your judgment?

PusheeKat Diaries 10

December 7th
Disaster, Tragedy, DOOM! I didn’t know my life would come to this. They put beautiful Patchy, of the long fluffy fur, the love of my life, that irreplaceable cougar of my dreams, into some kind of large LUNCH BOX with slats and put cellotape around it and then carried her off in a three wheel! I couldn’t believe it and I didn’t really notice her and then I turned around and she was gone…
I spent some time hoodling and howling through the dining room window making the Family uneasy and they shouted at me to shut up, and stop worrying that she would be back. Yeah so they say. They had better be correct.

10.00 am So Im waiting.
1.00pm Its lunchtime .No sign of Patchy.
2.00pm Could not bear the suspense and did some more sniveling and youwling at the dinning room window. No one seemed bothered. No Patchy and No Mistress Ally.What do you think they would have done to my poor darling? And mind you Pitchoo was not at all concerned and had his lunch as usual, if only Patchy knew how little he cares about her and how much I care, she would not favor him, that scoundrel!! I did not eat my lunch today in protest. I don’t know if anyone noticed but I couldn’t .

Im trying to understand what has happened. Apparently Patchy has had a little blob, which is not very normal. So they have to go to the Wet, who has to Hoperate and take away said blob. I don’t know what the fuss is all about why cant hewmans not complicate things and not worry about blobs etc.This procedure even costs a lot of hewman money and they have to take her to a country called Bhattaramulla where all the best wets are. Ally and the Marmar were talking to each other on the long distance talkies and I was listening outside the bedroom window that’s how I know.

6.00 pm
They brought her back sleeping in a cardboard box. She is quite tipsy and did not recognize me and allowed me to look at her. She looked terrible but I was so happy to have her back I had to do more yeuwling. They chased me away with brooms, but I had a spot to look through the windows. They gave her milk and samon. They tried to give her medicine so she clawed them properly so they finally crushed the pills into kudu mixed it in honey and rubbed it on her left backside. That’s because anyway she is so clean and cant stand anything sticky on her coat so she licks it all off, and that way drinks her medicine. Ha ha, devious…
December 8th
Patchy of course spends her time jumping onto things as if she has a lot of important work to do, which is dangerous with the stitched tummy- but isn’t she lovely…shes back , shes alive and my life is all right again….(even if she dosnt notice me)…shes on her way to getting better that’s all I care about ; and if I ever meet that Wet I shall shake his paw oh yes I will !!
…………………………………………………………………………….
http://colombopetrescue.blogspot.com
NB Pusheekat Diaries are the thoughts of Peechy, an ordinary grey house cat who lives in a hewmie dwelling in Wellampitiya with 2 other adopted strays and a very pompous half Persian princess cat named Patchy. Although he is a cat of very refined qualities she does not return his affection and prefers the company of a thuggish, battered and diseased street cat named Pitchy. This leads to philosophical musings on all sides.

Parenthood Licenses

Whats wrong with this photo, you may wonder? its one of those quick sudden camera phone things and you see a dad with three, repeat THREE helmet-less children, helmetless, racing to school or work... and if you look closely, the feet of the child in front are above the crashbar a couple of inches from those hefty 60mph tyres.

True it takes a few months and a bit of bribery and corruption not to mention some "rustifying" at the RMV to get a bike license...but the funny thing is that to procreate and produce confused and innocent life is still a choice available to anyone whos gonads are functioning without any social censure.
and in Sri Lanka oddly you can take these life forms around without minimal precaution, on an obviously dangerously overloaded death trap,in rush hour traffic, without even bothering to check where their feet are.
But, Im sure if interviewed the gentleman has a perfectly valid and innocent explanation for this.
I think as usual its women who will have to put a stop to not only the neglect and abuse of children but the unjustified reproduction of offspring that arrive to a world of chaos and injustice on the invitation of misguided humans who think that children are the "done thing"
http://gpso.wordpress.com/2009/12/08/one-womans-answer-empower-women-slow-population-growth-bulletin-of-the-atomic-scientists/

PusheeKat Diaries 9

November 30th
Such a shock . Suddenly the hewmies have gone away. I think that perhaps our world is over. I don’t know what to do . I don’t know what I have done. One day they were here the next day they were gone! In that metal chariot, you know. Marmar has given up on us. I couldn’t even eat today . Well, mostly because the food was horrible with the boring harlmassas boiled by the kusssi woman. She never really liked us. But for some reason she came over and gave us all food. That’s all. The house is silent and cold and there are no lights. This is very very scarey.


December 1st

Today also. There is no one! I think the world has ended. Except for the kusi woman. Suddenly I want to throw myself keening at her feet. What if she too forgets us. What are we going to do. We might have to live on rats again. Why did they go? What did we do that they left us here like this ? Where could they be; its very selfish and heartless what they are doing…

December 2nd

Third day without the hewmies. I am almost dying of some kind of unease, it could perhaps be loneliness –Im not sure . True they descended from apes and are generally far inferior to us but they were kind of busy and interesting, they were company sort of and the food was much better when Marmar personally supervised it. Im disappointed. Did I do something bad to Marmar . ? Except for tearing his socks, putting paw prints on his windscreen and marking territory on the rice bags, I cant even think of something properly bad I did to him, anything REALLY unforgivable….

December 3rd
Oh praise Bubastis, they are back today!!! I was so happy I head butted their legs till I lost fur on my head! Oh my dear precious hewmies. They didn’t go away .Life is happy again. They didn’t leave me. They wouldn’t , they know how much happiness they get from giving us nice stuff like saman. I know they cant live happily without us. But whatss this I hear? They went to a place called Yarlar looking for a BIG CAT ?Whats this ? big deal !why do they want a big cat?Dont we do enough damage as it is?I mean we put paw prints on the car, we go and dump in the front yard, and we do a lot of fighting in the night on the roof, to keep them alert, we are much more active than the neighbourhood cats so why do they want a “lepperd” or something. Im daring them to bring one here, I shall not eat at all and I shall claw its eyes. What is this world coming to I don’t know – I don’t want any dirty big cat here apart from Patchy. LEPOD MY FOOT.

Pusheekat Diaries 8

November 24th
The week started funny with some news from Rathmalana. The family daughter called in some hysteria to say that Hish , the teenage cublette had taken out some of his earwax and offered it to the dum kitten (named peach) they have there and what’s worse, the latter has happily eaten it.
There was some serious apprehension there as to what could be the consequences of such an act. I personally wonder about the motivation.

November 27th

I swear Patchi’s knows English, that Mother Tongue of the Queen: this evening we were sitting quietly in the living room pretending we were furniture. But Patchy, who thinks she is special and royalty, just because she has a hairy tail, was making a bit of nuisance of her self in the kitchen.
Then grandmommy who normally starts screaming slightly when cats come too near her, suddenly said “ someone put that Filthy Fellow out !” which was not only a mistake regarding gender and species ( “fellow”)but inaccurate regarding status (Patchy is not “ filthy”) she’s the cleanest of us all as she never sits on the floor and has princess attitudes. Anyway Filthy is the name of another cat they had sometime back)
The words were barely out of her mouth I saw Patchy quietly and smoothly easing herself under the side board ; which is only about 6 inches off the ground and makes it very difficult for anyone to remove her unless they perform the land equivalent of the belly stroke.

November 28th -Attack of the Family Rat….

Oh, the shame of it! Well, we call him the Family Rat because funnily enough, while we are locked out in the cold watching through the windows, we can see him scuttling happily about helping himself to dustbin stuff and fooling about with the soap each night.

This is shameful. I bought it up at a recent meaw meaw , but Patchy ( who is the only one allowed in the night) was not motivated; “ Come on, they can afford one rat” was all she said .I have this suspicious that not only is she completely not interested in doing her job which involves the complete eradication of Rat, but she even approves in a underhand way of actually harbouring them. Disgusting!I can almost see its triangular face gloating out at me through the windows.
I hope it gets glued one day or something.

Patchy Translated..

PATCHYS VOCALISATIONS TRANSLATED

“MRRRP” that’s a positive rendition roughly translated as “You bet!” (in reply for example to a question like “how about some feesh Patchy?) or “Of course” or “YES!!’

“fHAAK” negative audio response usually accompanied by laid back ears and twitching whiskers .Lit: “Back off!” or “ It wasn’t me!” or “Crikey it’s a DAWWWg”

“MRROAWUU” quite negative in for example situations like being locked in the broom closet by mistake. This is a reflex expression caused by the presence of the hedious apparitions of souls of numerous rodents which she had bullied to death in her youth when she actually had had the energy to play with her food.

“PRRRRHH” very positive , last heard in 1998 before any of the stray cats were taken into the house. Usually accompanied by kneading motions and an ecstatic simple minded drooly expression like that hyena in Lion King which chews its own ankles