Who knew there are toilet spells???

DABBE was...absolutely refreshing in terms of horror fare. Unusual, original, authentic, wildly unpredictable, (which is difficult when one has been there done that in terms of every kind of nightmare film or book around...) and set in one of my favorite lands, Turkey. From the first few minutes you knew it was going to be good. Theres much to resonate with the Eastern horror fan that you dont find in any kind of Western fare ( including massive clumps of damp decompsing "drain" hair being vomited by people and decomposing cattle skulls- which I know is a thing in Sri Lanka because my husband said he had offers for the skulls of his family's buffaloe herd when they had got ill and died) ....this was absolutely fascinating for me, because previously Id always thought of ddjinns as rather standardised and regular...and Id never watched a film featuring a Muslim excorcist!!! Move over Nun, Polterguiest and frankly any other western fare, because this tradition was way more familiar, where I come from. DABBE is also, terrifyingly, based on actual events and Nadeesha and I had to dim down the audio because we didnt want any part of demons invocation in original biblical languages, to enter our living room! and turns out thats a good thing because I later learnt that some of the demon voices had been retrieved from actual tapes from the cases!!!....(For good measure we decided to play Buddhist prayers and watch a comedy afterwards, thats how effective it was!) Twelve out of ten in terms of halloween horror fare, although it lost a point or two for its exaggerated shaky cameramanship (Blair Witch style) which always makes me nauseous and is the reason I could never get on the computer games bandwagon...and also there were inexplicable and much maligned pythons at one point just put there to add effect to anyone with snake phobias which didnt work on us because we love reptiles...(naga ganaya anyone?) But.....overall,  if you want to be scared shitless and absolutely not know whats coming next and also be affected in a visceral way, this is a treat worth waiting for. What can I say, dont do this at home, alone ....

  LOL-Demon.jpg

Cultural Horror from Turkey

Dabbe" (also known as "Dabbe: The Possession") is a Turkish horror film directed by Hasan Karacadag, released in 2006. The movie has made a significant impact on the Turkish horror genre, and it stands out for its unique approach to supernatural horror and its deep connection to Islamic and Turkish folklore.

The film's plot revolves around a group of individuals who find themselves ensnared in a series of inexplicable and horrifying events. The central characters, Kubra and Harun, along with their friends, become the targets of a malevolent supernatural force. As they delve deeper into the mystery, they seek assistance from a religious scholar, a psychiatrist, and a psychic to comprehend and combat the sinister presence that haunts them.

What sets "Dabbe" apart is its profound exploration of Islamic and Turkish folklore, particularly the concept of "dabbe." In Islamic belief, "dabbe" refers to malevolent supernatural beings capable of infiltrating the human realm and causing harm. This concept serves as the core theme of the film as the characters experience increasingly disturbing and unexplained phenomena, including possessions, hauntings, and mysterious deaths.

The film excels in creating an atmosphere of tension and fear, keeping viewers on edge throughout the narrative. Hasan Karacadag's expertise in the horror genre is evident as he seamlessly combines elements of Islamic theology and Turkish superstitions to craft a genuinely eerie and unsettling experience.

"Dabbe" has played a pivotal role in shaping Turkish horror cinema and has even spawned a successful franchise of films exploring similar themes. Its success can be attributed to its ability to resonate with Turkish audiences by blending supernatural horror with cultural elements deeply rooted in local folklore and beliefs.

The Significance of "Dabbe" in Turkish Cinema

"Dabbe" is a groundbreaking film in Turkish cinema for several reasons. It represents a shift in Turkish horror cinema by embracing supernatural and occult themes, which were relatively unexplored in earlier Turkish films. While Turkish cinema has a rich history of horror films, "Dabbe" introduced a new dimension to the genre by drawing inspiration from Islamic and Turkish supernatural beliefs. This approach made "Dabbe" both distinctive and culturally resonant.

Islamic and Turkish Folklore Influence

One of the most striking aspects of "Dabbe" is its profound connection to Islamic and Turkish folklore. The film takes inspiration from Islamic theology, Sufism, and local superstitions to create a narrative that taps into deeply ingrained cultural beliefs. The concept of "dabbe" is central to the film, and it derives from Islamic eschatology, where "dabbe" refers to a malevolent creature that will emerge in the end times.

The film draws upon various Islamic and Turkish cultural elements, including verses from the Quran and references to djinn, exorcism, and the evil eye. These elements are seamlessly integrated into the story, adding an authentic layer of cultural significance to the horror narrative. "Dabbe" effectively explores the fine line between faith and fear, and it engages with the audience on a cultural and psychological level.

Supernatural Horror with Cultural Authenticity

"Dabbe" excels in creating an unsettling and eerie atmosphere, setting it apart from typical horror films. The movie is not reliant on jump scares or gratuitous violence; instead, it builds tension and fear through an intricate narrative and a profound connection to cultural elements.

The film's approach to supernatural horror is deeply rooted in Islamic and Turkish beliefs, making it an immersive and authentic experience for Turkish viewers. By incorporating these cultural references and folklore, "Dabbe" resonates on a level that extends beyond typical horror movie tropes.

The Influence of Director Hasan Karacadag

Hasan Karacadag, the director of "Dabbe," is a central figure in Turkish horror cinema. He is known for his expertise in the horror genre and has contributed significantly to shaping the landscape of Turkish horror films. His dedication to exploring the supernatural and his ability to create a sense of unease have made him a prominent figure in the industry.

"Dabbe" is one of his most notable works, and it showcases his skill in crafting a tense and suspenseful narrative. Karacadag's ability to blend elements of Islamic and Turkish culture with horror themes is a testament to his talent as a director and storyteller. His influence on Turkish horror cinema is undeniable, and "Dabbe" remains a standout example of his contributions to the genre.

Impact and Legacy

"Dabbe" has had a lasting impact on Turkish cinema, particularly in the horror genre. Its success has led to the creation of a franchise of films that continue to explore themes related to supernatural entities, demonic possession, and unexplained phenomena. The "Dabbe" series has gained a dedicated following and has further solidified the film's place in Turkish popular culture.

The film's unique approach to horror, its cultural authenticity, and its ability to tap into the fears and beliefs of Turkish audiences have made it a significant landmark in Turkish cinema. "Dabbe" has shown that horror can be a vehicle for cultural exploration and reflection, and it continues to be discussed and celebrated by both film enthusiasts and scholars.

In Conclusion

"Dabbe" is a Turkish horror film that has left an indelible mark on the country's cinema. Its exploration of supernatural horror, demonic possession, and cultural beliefs has set it apart as a unique and culturally resonant work. The film's success, the influence of director Hasan Karacadag, and its impact on Turkish horror cinema showcase its significance within the industry.

"Dabbe" is more than a horror movie; it is a cultural exploration that engages with Islamic and Turkish folklore to create an authentic and unsettling experience. Its legacy as a groundbreaking and influential film in Turkish cinema is well-deserved, and it continues to be a point of discussion and admiration among film enthusiasts and scholars alike.

BLISS in the here, right now

- Chandrika Gadiewasam

From human birth to death, in a maddening cyclical pattern of infancy, childhood, education, graduation, marriage,  reproduction, aging and continuous drudgery  to survive, through a whirlwind of meaningless traditions and festivals, milestones, new years, birthdays,  weddings, and  funerals, sickness and health... The human creature constantly seeks happiness and fulfilment and that SOMETHING….

But…. are we ever content with what we get ? Are there moments when TIME suddenly stands still near a lake, with just the wind in the trees, and the moon above, where we suddenly stop to think and wonder about the meaning of life?

Where is this happiness or satisfaction that humans search for? How long does it last and how do you make sure that you can hold on to it? Haven't you actually tried until you cried? Wouldn't life be just perfect IF ONLY, if only you had that promotion/partner/child/ property/vehicle/ recognition/or appreciation  that you couldn't? And then by luck, just as you finally got what you wanted, it turned out as unsatisfying, as aggravating and as plain empty as a soap bubble in the wind? 

And yet….paradoxically could happiness in fact be found in the acceptance of just such emptiness and in the fleeting beauty of a rainbow coloured sud? 

Let me explain.

Last week though I was privileged to accompany a set of seekers led by a different kind of teacher, on an intense journey into a higher consciousness. 

The venue was among the heritage sites of Anuradhapura,  the land of ancient kings and of power and splendor, now mercifully left mostly deserted by latter day Sri Lankans who prefer the noise and traffic of modern cities. 

The group was mostly a modern crew of successful Colombo/Kandy professionals, many from stressful highly paid jobs, a number of adventurous youngsters who were searching for something different to the usual, and some ordinary middle aged people like me who had seen a lot of suffering and needed to find escape from the continuous pain within.

The lockdown of Colombo a few months ago had taken a frightful toll on me, dragging me through the valley of death in my mind;  curfews, lawlessness and injustices triggering long suppressed memories of terror, helplessness and abandonment and leading to full blown anxiety. ( I'd been in a bloody  military coup in Kenya where curfews held implications of tyranny, torture and terror) The current too was a period of extreme stress in terms of work, income and health, usual unsatisfactory human conditions common to us all, but not any less painful for their familiarity.

Anuradhapura has always been to me a vaguely remote, dry far away Sri Lankan place with old earthen stupas. They are pretty amazing architecturally but I never understood what pilgrims want to see there, and frankly I still don't.  I don't think I particularly want to live there, do you? The water is horrible, and infrastructure is not all that great, though the scenery is divine. Any Buddhist temple or really any place of worship is just as good as the rest, to me, I enjoy the cleanliness, silence and  atmosphere and the leafy Bo Trees or any trees for that matter, and I can feel peaceful in the environment for a few hours maybe: but that's about it.

Then it begins. 

That maddening internal monologue. 

That voice in my head which tells me what I should be doing, why I have failed, why I should have done things a different way, why I could have been better if only someone or something did not  cheat/abuse/obstruct/ aggravate me, how I am much better or worse than the next person, why these things always happen to me..until the voice tells me to hate people, to hurt myself, to try to be someone I will never be...and tells me that I would be happy anywhere else but here, and now. Have you heard this voice talk inside your head until it becomes deafening? Well...that just the way it is and it turns out that voice is a hallucination, and we can after all make it stop torturing us. 

And that after it actually becomes silent... There comes a pause, however small, however light, of such brilliance, and such simplicity that we KNOW, in that moment. 

And we know nothingness.

And somehow our awareness breaks beyond the skin of our earthly bodies and expands infinitely outwards...in a shimmering celebration of the limitless human potential for joy and fulfillment in the moment called the present.

And then we understand, it is possible to find bliss, in the here, right now. 

……………………………………………………..

For more details on this life changing program you can contact me at hanwella7@gmail.com

Photograph from https://vocal.media/journal/basawakkulama-tank-sri-lanka by Zeloan

The Second Arrow.

Life after Rape: Stay away from the Second Arrow.  

In Buddhism we are told that the mind is the forerunner of all conditioned things. A lot of pain is caused by our minds- which is indeed strange considering how many millennia we homo erectus spent trying to evolve a bigger and more intelligent brain. Have you seen a dog with TVT? It's a disease where the animals private parts become cancerous and end up becoming a bleeding, jellied, skinless, formless mass, you can google TVT dogs, if you want the visuals.  I sometimes think that if we are to believe in reincarnation TVT may be the punishment meted out to reborn rapists. And I think of them with definite compassion.

But have another look and you will realize that many of these animals don't seem affected by this horror, not even as badly as we are as onlookers. This probably isn't because they don't feel pain. But it could be because animals, way lower though they are in terms of intelligence, have not reached the stage where they are able to mull on the reasons for pain or to dwell on the effect pain has on their ego. Animals generally are good at living in the present moment. You give them something to eat, or they see a potential mate and everything else is forgotten.

If you have ever been raped, there is a theory that an alternative thought process might help you. It tries to help with the emotional pain. The physical pain will probably end in a few days or weeks, our human bodies are quite resilient that way. Have you experienced a protracted childbirth or a chronic UTI or yeast infection? Those hurt like hell itself. After difficult childbirth there are sometimes perineal tears or fistulas which take months to heal- or maybe never do.  If you talk to someone with a UTI or yeast infection, or kidney stones, the pain is real, maddening, and continuous. I've personally spent hours contorted into fetal position, on the bathroom floor writhing at the pain of a full-blown UTI, simply crying helplessly and I imagine other people have too.

This doesn't mean for one minute that a violent gang rape is any the less horrifying. But there are two aspects to rape or in fact to any kind of pain and it can be said that the second aspect or the assault on a person's integrity, to her emotional autonomy is much more prolonged and horrifying than the physical aspect. It involves the affront to one's ego, the perceptions of stigma attached the whole "how can I face society again?" (Which is well fueled by Eastern society's attitudes in particular) and the inevitable resultant hatred of the attacker(s) "how dare this person do this to me?" as well as incredible amounts of self-loathing. "I should have/could have done something different to avoid this attack, It's my fault."

This is what the Buddha meant by referring to the Second Arrow. This pain is actually in the mind and so will hurt much more than the actual physical pain of the assault did. This pain is a memory of pain that is not in the present moment. And this secondary pain is preventable. It requires two things, a change in attitude, and continuous mindfulness. The mindfulness part is needed to catch yourself going down those well-worn mental pathways that you always travel.  It isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination. But this is a good example of a situation where loved ones, society and above all your own mind can become your worst enemy.  The metaphorical second arrow is preventable pain, the pain that arises in the mind following physical pain. Often the physical pain is long gone and only a faint and uneasy memory, but the nightmares, the perception of that pain and the ego affronting circumstances of that pain are what torture us into the future. That is the second arrow which we refuse to take out. Needlessly. How can we begin to change that?

Consider a woman who has had a protracted messy childbirth involving about 20 hours of intense pain, and blood and tearing. Human society finds a way to make this noble, heroic and the woman will come out of this rosy-cheeked, talking about how anything is worth it for her beautiful baby. The human mind, in the interests of successful procreation even numbs the memory of it and soon the same woman is ready for her next experience of childbirth which although it involves her body being torn in half and her private parts bleeding and being mangled, society has forcefully labeled as "joyous".  There are women who cannot conceive spending years trying to get to this stage even if the expensive attempts end in bleeding miscarriages (not to mention years of savings being spent on it). But because it's a part of what we women are supposed to be doing all of this is acceptable. The complex human brain too colludes in this trickery: have you ever heard of a woman reliving a nightmare of a protracted childbirth? Never because apparently, there are chemicals that work to completely erase that memory.

We are not so blessed when it comes to sexual assault, and even a relatively minor incident of unwarranted groping we receive on public transport can keep us traumatized, depressed and hollow for days.  

I can say to let it go because it is a metaphorical arrow not a real one, and I realize that may not be as easy as it sounds.  

But you need to take control of your mind and prevent it from working against you. 

It can be done.   

MY QUANTUM PORTAL TO HELL

Fifteen years of messing with proposals and deadlines and an uncoordinated head office- and this was officially the last straw that broke the camel's back.

This cartoon is from Morten Morland Times

So last week my team told me they were all working feverishly on a deadline to submit a bid to the United Nations supplier portal. You just have to upload it, they said. It will be ready very soon and we still have a day more, they said. Only you can do this techy part, they wheedled. 

Well, I do know a thing or two about USAID and EU submission portals online, so I was suitably uncomfortable. The previous year a colleague and I had been struggling till 4 am in the morning ( which was a more reasonable time in New York) fighting with dodgy broadband and the tedious UN Atlas portal but we had had about a week to get familiar with that. Even then I had vowed I would not do this again. 

Now the bad news was ATLAS had been shut down and QUANTUM had taken its place and I had only about 24 hours to check and edit the documents we were to submit as well as to get a grip on the portal. 

If you think you can upload your proposal in one of these portals a few hours just before the deadline, think again. 

First off we couldn't get through because someone in the office had the passwords and no one knew who. 

That's a long story itself. So after half a day hysterically trying to break into my own forgotten email accounts and find old passwords the local donor representatives informed us that the password was with our Executive Director, a brilliant man who on principle does not involve himself with IT functions. And why should he? But then... the next question is.. why should he have the passwords? That intellectual giant was in the middle of a string of high level policy formulation meetings and didn't fancy passing OTPs to me with annoying regularity. That's a different problem which we solved at the end of the day by begging for our own account. Until then if you left the computer for about half an hour the whole portal shut  down and you had to call the person with the OTP passcodes. If you think you can have lunch or go for a bath or even take a decent dump during this process, perish the thought. Do you want to keep disturbing a grouchy workaholic non -profit Executive Director ...?

But what about Tec Sup you may ask? For this proposal we had some wonderfully co- operative Sri Lankan officers - but then 1) for transparency reasons they cannot actually go inside our profile to help us and 2) during the previous submission during the new year season there was no one contactable and we were advised to write to Bangkok ... one letter took 4 days to reach us- my question being why cant the portal be made straightforward in the first place. With large buttons at the crucial points. with highlighted emphasis on the important areas and without standards letters from the UN taking up half a page.? 

Steps to the Countdown

• Start by watching the 2 hour webinar on how to work with the portal. You need to watch the whole hundred minutes whether you want to enter a fully fledged 3 year contract to construct a dam in Burkino Faso or whether you just want to supply bananas at the canteen. Then there's a hundred and eleven page user guide which if you follow carefully, promises to explain this insanity. Even if you know your Office software and three programming languages this is still torture.

• The whole QUANTUM PORTAL does not allow bookmarks or links (because they want to be more secure than even HSBC) so there is no way to save any reference point to be able to get back to it - you will have to memorise the entire pathway of each time you want to reach a page. If you make a wrong turn you end up in a dead end and you cannot go BACK (there is no back button) Theres a DONE button but thats different. It means you did whatever you wanted to do but it doesn't navigate you away...
• Click Supplier portal in the Cover letter . It will be your launching point.(But it wont be in large letters or highlighted or anything. You will have to read the whole page to locate it ) It might be slightly blue, but there are other blue text bits just to make the whole thing interesting. Like various email links...imagine searching for it an hour away from the deadline
• In the Supplier portal at the left hand lower corner under NEGOTIATIONS, click MANAGE RESPONSES. This is a very important first step and of course the words will be discreetly hidden at the bottom of the page to throw you off.
• In the MANAGE RESPONSES page click your RFP (this is after you have searched for half an hour for the relevant RFP and then expressed your interest in it) There isnt an easy search feature. You have to adjust variables regarding the region, time period and whether you were invited to bid- one wrong answer and nothing happens. In your REQUEST FOR PROPOSAL PAGE you have to click CREATE RESPONSE. You may want to know the difference between MANAGE RESPONSE and CREATE RESPONSE, because ultimately they seem to do the same thing (-which is draft your bid in stages- and thus could simply have been called DRAFT YOUR DAMN BID). Well its another of those mysteries and it was just done to confuse things. Just do as they say, after all Donors Know Best  
• In the CREATE RESPONSE PAGE most of the page is taken up by a standard letter from the UN  but there there are 4 discrete links in the left hand corner - Overview, Requirements, Line, Review...
• If you click OVERVIEW you get a page which is mostly white space but you can put the reference number and save  something-and send any comment to the UN. That seems to be the whole point of the entire page. That and hosting other buttons which were repeated on all the other pages...
• In the REQUIREMENTS page in the right hand side is a tiny drop down menu with five sections - General /Administrative/ Bidder Declaration / Technical Proposal /Financial Proposal - each has sections that need to be edited and attachments need to be uploaded where I found a tiny discrete dull black plus sign (+) like my cats anus when she's not suffering from Irritable Bowel . Unlike her ass, the plus sign is about the size of a sodding match-head so that you need a magnifying glass to find it, if you even begin to guess that an ass-shaped plus sign could be so fundamentally important. But without it you cannot begin to upload stuff  Of course you would know how important it is if you had read the %#$@ manual, all one hundred and ten pages of it, but remember the deadline for uploading is only twenty hours away, thanks to miscoordinations between Admin and Finance etc etc  
• Then also in the REQUIREMENTS page there is a tiny line FONT SIZE 6 or something which says  Kindly upload financial proposal documents in financial section (Financial Evaluation - Commercial) only. If your financial proposal is visible in any part of the technical section, your proposal will be disqualified.  NICE TOUCH United Nations, NICE TOUCH! although this probably also disqualifies anyone over 45 because we cannot read text at that size! oh wait, did you know that if you hold down CTRL + Scroll you can adjust the size of what you are reading? No? Ok, well I did and it didn't really help me!  
• The LINES page is because the UN sometimes needs one whole page of webspace to enter the budget total into one tiny box one inch across/ sometimes if they feel frisky they will ask for a breakdown based on deliverables... 
• Most of the dialogue boxes are the size of one large sentence of text and have unwieldly scroll buttons, but the page is large and bare: In fact overall the whole QUANTUM portal has a lot of white space that feels as soothing as a strobe light in a mental asylum. I can feel my left eye twitching as I write this.

Im sure the IT Crowd who developed it will have lots to say about their lovely secure portal. Trust me I welcome a debate on it: I WANT  to be proven wrong by people who have used the site and found it lovely, functional, practical. 

What I did hear though is that a number of grassroots organizations (read, simple genuine people with actually functional ideas who don't know about the portals made-up jargon) with proposals drafted in advance had given up bidding when they came to the portal simply because they didn't have technical people who could figure out that twaddle with a deadline looming over them.(or perhaps couldn't read the important print in font size 6)   

And these are just a few of my experiences over the space of 36 harrowing hours trying to upload a last minute proposal to help drought and/or conflict-ridden third world communities. 

The more evil comments I feel like making have been self censored. 

I will need a month of meditation to get over this one. 

hanwella7@gmail.com  

The housewives guide to competing for freelance work

The housewives guide to competing for freelance work

• Chandrika Gadiewasam for Kathru.com

How to actually find rewarding work from home? 

Be available. Be dependable. And deliver on time! 

You know who they are, they sidle up to you at various functions and say that they are looking for work, and giggle bashfully and say can you send some work their way. 

Comfortable looking, slightly frumpy stay-at-home moms, previously smart, professional,  gainfully occupied women, now stuck at home with a kid, a dog or more challenging- a husband. Suddenly they want work, they want the money, but they are simply incapable of understanding that dread word " deadlines."

Well, deadlines are deadlines whoever you are, and companies have to work with deadlines. That's how they make the money with which you are paid. You have to understand this. Frankly I've personally had it with employing housewives to do my sub-contracts. Here's why. As an employer I'm completely fed up with the pall of apathy that falls over them once they are in the domestic environment, shielded by the comforting financial security of a possibly bossy husband and the large and incredibly varied list of excuses that they can effortlessly manufacture at home. The list of excuses I've been given by housewives who fail to meet deadlines they have sincerely committed to, is painfully inexhaustive (though exhausting to look at) and boggles the mind. 

• I had to cook for my son (the guy was about 15 at the time mind you)

• Weekends I have to do the laundry/ bathe the dog…

• My husband and I had a trip planned for the long weekend 

• We had an almsgiving

• I have to wrap my kids' exercise books for next term…

• my internet isnt working (for the last 3 months)

I'm sorry and please consider me a completely insensitive, cold hearted, spoilsport who doesn't understand. If you expect to be given freelance work and if you aren't among the echelons of the great and famous freelancers who can afford to turn up their noses at decently paying work - then my dears, you have to be available, be dependable and be able to deliver on time.

I'm not saying to agree to unreasonable nonsense from employers. Low payment is one set of nonsense and nasty deadlines are another. A potential contractor once told me that I would get four days to proofread his entire annual report and said the previous proofreader had passed away. Why am I not surprised? He probably tried giving him a two day deadline and the man likely had a heart attack. Don't agree to nonsense like that. But within reasonable pay and reasonable deadlines and with a sense of empathy for the employer's point of view, please do your best to budget the time you need, add a comfortable margin for unexpected but inevitable domestic chaos, and quote in a way that is fair to you and fair to your contractor.

Another thing, when you work from home the home folks tend to think they can still expect the usual attention from you, which is not fair on you because you will be multitasking and you will be stressed. So before you agree to a contract, please do enlist the support of your mother in law, husband, children and perhaps even the dog, by explaining to them that for a while your work will be priority and they must support you, be quiet and get some of their own stuff sorted. Lock yourself away in a studio or take the laptop to the bathroom if needed, where you will not be disturbed. Promise everyone a reward after everything is over, and reward yourself too! 

That way you will make a reputation for being dependable, which is the difference between being hired, and being passed over. Like a number of very sweet, earnest and enthusiastic friends of mine, who I would never actually dream of doing business with…

  
…………………………………………….

Also read this article to understand why women's participation in the labour force is good for everyone. 

WAY TO GO, ROVER

WAY TO GO, ROVER 

written and illustrated by Sakuntala Sachithanandan – 2023.…

Book review by Chandrika Gadiewasam

Rover arrives at Gamini's house unexpectedly, bundled out of a bag – much to innocent Gamini's delight but to the intense annoyance of granny Siriyawathie. He is a very small puppy ,found on the street  by an uncle.

He is very small, lonely and terrified and he pees uncontrollably when he gets scared which is quite often…Many things scare him including the huge angry broom-wielding Siriyawathie.  Sriyawathie thinks Rover is a filthy cur because  - simply because he is  a dog and she did not wish to spend her valuable time on looking after dogs. True enough, somehow, her grandson has brought him to stay, but  she mistreats him, screams continuously at him and generally starves him.

Quoting Zelda, the clever lizard watching it all from next door and creeping over to Gamini's garden now and then, "she absolutely hates anything that walks on four legs or more, or flies. Most of all, a doggy who wags his tail, rolls on his back and grins". 

Though he has been rescued from certain starvation and/or being crushed under a vehicle in the cruel world, sometimes Rover's  home  life seems worse than death. Rover is a baby after all and only wants some love and freedom  to run and play and may be an old shoe to chew on because he is teething. But he's left  locked up all day in a small wooden prison in his own pee.

In the next door garden,  Zelda the lizard , a kingfisher, Pilihudda and the next door pets, four doggies  and plump pampered feline Chickadee, discuss his existence sadly and hope that things will improve for him. 

When I got my hands on this book the first thing  that impressed me was  the collection of  attractive watercolor sketches  by the author, then the simple refreshing writing style which was a delight for the adult reader too. But this book isn't just a story or cartoon, it has a much, much deeper message and I for one do hope that this will find its way to being translated into SInhala to reach as many children as possible!

Life isn't a bed of roses, as even children have to understand. In Way to Go, Rover, author and animal welfare activist Sakuntala Sachithanandan is speaking with great sensitivity of the common  fate of thousands of innocent puppies in Sri Lanka, where people often do not spay their animals due to religious reasons but are happy to abandon the litters on the road to die starving, be eaten by predators or be mangled by speeding vehicles. The book is released in an era where animal cruelty has reached hitherto unheard of heights. With her detailed, sensitive and occasionally humorous commentary on Rover's life through the eyes of two garden creatures, Zelda and the king fisher  Pilihudda, Sakuntala hopes to instil love and concern for animals among the younger generation, and unlikely though it is in the real world, show how at least Rover can escape his sad destiny. 

Based on a hundred and one true stories, Way to Go Rover is a children's book, but it should definitely be read by adults too. Not just to take you back to easy going narrative and attractive illustrations - but because it gives a very human and empathetic look into the life of a living, breathing little being, man's Best  Friend,  who would otherwise have been  overlooked. Though Sakuntala has targeted children and therefore tried to keep the narrative light and humorous in the dialogue among  the other garden animals, if one reads between the lines, the suffering of Rover is quite difficult to bear. The reader hopes desperately that something will change, and Rover will somehow find safety and love. Will he prevail and will he be able to run free at last? Children and adults will want to read this story to the end to find out!

A lawyer by profession, Sakuntala is also a poet and artist and WAY TO GO, ROVER includes her delightful watercolour  illustrations which are a treat to the eye.

This book is on sale at  S.GODAGE & BROTHERS (PVT) LTD.  No.661,675,675, - P.de S.Kularatne Mawatha,  Colombo 10

 

 

WHERE ANGELS FEAR - Chandrika Gadiewasam ( written at age 11)

WHERE ANGELS FEAR 

PROLOGUE 

"I remember the mountains in the morning. They caught the sunlight when it first appeared. The tips would become orange and then red and I would shiver because I remembered the meaning of life. The location was somewhere in Central Asia – I cant tell you exactly where, arid , heart-rendingly beautiful and cruel. It won't be any use trying to name it you won't find that name on your map .I warrant you cannot even pronounce the name . I remember the smells of early dawn, there were smells of small herbs that were growing on the side of the mountains  the wild weeds which Babushka used to make into her concoctions ``…I call her Babushka but i'm not sure that she was Russian .She was a blend of so many races , her ancestors must have come from all corners of that continent .She prayed many times a day to Allah but her blue eyes were slightly Mongolian and her hair  the color of the Steppes. Her skin was indeterminate, darker than really beautiful and sweet smelling like the herbs she delt in. She would have been so beautiful when she was young. I know of course that she is old but I cannot say by looking at her how old .

  "She knew many stories from many countries because when she was young she had traveled so far and wide and lived among so many famous people . I suspect that she had been a courtesan… but I must tell you that neither would I be surprised if she had said she was a nun…. Really my babushka was a mystery as deep as the sources of the mountain streams in that cold beautiful asian land I told you of …

"So let me tell you about the tips of the mountains…They became red before the rest of the day. And what is so remarkable about that ? Well it thrilled me as I sat shivering in the darkness of the valley below .It amazed me to see that while standing in what was essentially night I breath up towards the light of a new dawn .And I imagined that from the top of the mountain a person standing in daybreak could still see down into the blackness of night below , like we spy into the fearsome dark corners of our souls and wait for them to fade into dawn. And let me come back again to the herbs….I don't actually like plants but all of nature pleases me in the peace it has to offer.

"Some of these herbs Babushlka used to cure illness some to cause peculiar changes in the psychology of people …the stories she told me may indeed have been told by the delirious patients whose cuts she quietly sewed up and whose broken bones she firmly set .They were stories about life, you see.

'The other stories were probably her experiences. This I suspect because the main characters always happened to be beautiful and fearless young girls with names like Razina ,Sebira, Sukena  and so on .Underneath their different responses there was always a certain similarity of character .

"I am sure however that she never wished for anyone to suspect that it as in fact her experiences she was talking about : her mother had belonged to an unforgiving Asian cult which maintained that one of the great sins was to gossip and spend precious time in bragging , spreading rumours and being idle. Storytelling on the other hand was permissible if it taught one morals ,provided happiness and kept the author gainfully employed…"

 At this point in the hakhawathi's story he was abruptly interrupted by their act of topping a nearby ridge in the terrain. A most breathtaking sight awaited the travellers.

The valley below resembled a huge and infernal graveyard. As far as the eye could see there were more structures shaped like the parts of skeletons of indeterminate creatures.

Gruesome. twisted and sun bleached , they imitated on a giant scale . the bones of failed monsters and djinns shaped by centuries of wind.

"Then the famous valley of the Bone Mountains…"breathed the hakhawathi. 

" I have heard , "squeaked Lou, tremulously, "that  there are mazes which trap travelers forever and it is the rock in their bones which adds to the size of the mountains. This is a place of death!"

"Well, he knows just how to boost our morale!" complained Ibn Jibbal sourly.

"Well, it is true ,"said Carreras, "one must know what one is heading for instead of walking stupidly into territory where angels fear to tread. There is no bravery when one is unaware of the consequences, just stupidity"

Abruptly he stopped, gasping and looked around himself with an expression of wonder. He began to mutter indistinctly." A desert. Of rocks. A place of red stones. Like bones. !"Abruptly he whipped a chip of a broken mirror out of his pockets and stared at himself in its reflection, in a most demented and peculiar manner. When he turned back , Carreras saw the others staring at him dubiously.`

"You see, before Mokhtazib left us, he looked into my eyes and he saw the strangest things there…eyes reflect the world in front of  a person, and when certain people looked in to my eyes they see at certain times, the land where Al Kasan is travelling. When we were almost entering the Medini Triangle, Mokhtazib looked into my eyes and he saw, not  the silent and barren sand desert I was traversing , but a strange red desert of rocks. He told me this and I could not understand. It means that Al Kasan was here a little while back"

This statement was greeted by a profound silence which was broken by a scuffle as the listeners in a coordinated movement wheeled their horses the better to get a close look at his eyes. Carreras laughed at their eagerness. 

"It is not visible all the time! Only at certain times. Rest assured, I have seen what I need to see." 

His smile died down as he saw the others staring at him pointedly.

It was windy in the Red desert of rocks and their clothes flapped about and their hair blew and whipped around their faces.

Then he saw what they were looking at.

It was his own hair and clothes. They were unmoving, unaffected by the wind.

Chapter 1 -

Moonlight across the dunes. Gentle, ululating expanses of sand. 

This is the scrub dessert surrounding El Thebsi and there is a soft breeze in the air and the muffled sound of hooves in this sand.

A lone horseman accompanied by a lithe desert Saluki gallops his way towards the vast red fortress on the horizon. He is smiling in the moonlight beneath his shawl, the dog is frisking with job ince this is their home and they have been away for months and they long to be back home.

The horse is most eager too, because of its exhaustion - it has traveled uncounted miles

The horseman shouts.

The fortress does not reply.

The dog begins to curve around and whimper, dashing erratically back and forth in anxiety. The horseman, Carlos Romero DeLa Nostra y Carreras - he wheels his horse around the dog and urges it on, suddenly uneasy at the atmosphere that exudes from his home. 

"What has happened? Where is everyone?" Carreras chokes into his face covering, his joy changed in the flicker of an eyelid, into blind panic.

The ancient and heavy gates of the Ochre fortress lie open and from beyond comes the ugly ominous silence of abandonment, tragedy and loss. 

Carreras leaves Saklawi outside tethered loosely to a crumbling post and races after his whimpering dog, his horror giving him wings. The guard posts are empty, no single soul has come forth to meet him and the heart within him begins to thud in unspeakable horror. 

"Ibn Jibbal, where are you? Sebira! Who hears me reply, it is your master returned '' his voice cracked in panic and then he remembered it was best to be silent in case some unspeakable danger waited within to ambush him too. Although he knew that without his family he may as well be dead. His death would matter nought if his worst fears were to be true- that the Ochre fortress had been invaded and plundered and all were ruined and killed including Sebira and the very animals of the place, their bones whitened during the threescore days of his absence… 

His boots crunched loudly as he stumbled across the courtyards, diving in and out of kitchens and stables and stores. His breath came in ragged, disbelieving gasps and his mouth was parched with dread.

But Carreras did not trip over the desiccated bodies of his loved ones nor did the stink of death meet him so he decided that no matter what miseries they had suffered they had to be  alive: possibly kidnapped, and spirited away, perhaps already sold to slavery. 

And if there was no one to tell him who it was, how it happened then he must find the grisly clues himself if this was the last thing he did.

Careras stopped at a well and peered down it.

He threw down a bucket and hoisted this up and was about to drink deep of the cool water, when something, a foul and nightmarical animal, loathsome and hairy jumped on him from behind and knocked the bucket from his grasp. Kesab the sand hound instead of jumping to his masters defense merely wagged his tail rather limply and the hideous animal proceeded to scream shrilly and hysterically into the Spaniards ears, 

Carreras with considerable difficulty peeled the hairy nightmare off  the back of his head and examined it in the moonlight.

"It is as I thought. You little monster. It is Mushkila, Ibn Jibbal's pet monkey! Where is your master, you mangy creature from the pits of purgatory...? Take me to him at once! You hear?" 

It seemed Muskila was agreeable. He crashed off into the shadows screaming and gibbering and Carreras rushed after him, the hound Kesab bring up the rear tripping and skidding. They stumbled across disarrayed furnishings and disordered draperies and as Careras ran he was worrying more and more if that was possible. The monkey was leading him down into Ibn Jibbals dungeons. 

He hoped his friend was alive.

Someone had to tell him who had been responsible for this pillage and kidnapping or massacre if it was one. The fortress was locked and deserted so