Night in a haunted bungalow!

By Aditha Dissanayake

Remenber how even a falling leaf scares Shaggy and Scooby of Scooby Dooby Doo fame, to smithereens? "I'm made of stronger stuff", I tell myself while packing my bags to spend a night in a haunted bungalaw.

But first I encounter horror in another form at the Central Railway Station in Fort. The night-mail, that will take me to Nanuoya, is delayed by two hours, says a gruff male voice over the intercom. I make up my mind to stay on my feet with my bag hanging from my shoulders. I am determined not to keep it on the ground even though the floor looks clean and well swept. But one hour later, when another male voice announces the train would be further delayed by forty-minutes, I dump my bag on the ground and sit on it and stare at the rubbish on the railway track, bored to death.

A train at night is different to a train in daytime. I try not to stare as I walk through several compartments trying to locate my seat number. There are men all over the place. Most of them look like office workers. Some are clutching the edges of their sarongs with their teeth and unbuckling their pants. Some stand around brushing their teeth. Others are already curled up or stretched out on their seats, waiting patiently for the commotion to end and silence to descend. Now I know why so much has been written about travelling by train to Badulla during the day but nothing about travelling by the night-mail. The entire train seems to fall asleep long before it pulls out of the station.

Then occasionally I suppose an insomaniac like me gets on board. From the hostile glances they give me, I feel my companions are silently urging me to conform, to go to sleep like them. They probably feel vulnerable to have one person awake and conscious while they slumber.

I try to stare out of the window and see only my own face reflected on the glass. But gradually my eyes begin to pick objects outside the window. They fall on marshy land, bushes, coconut trees. Seeing them at night means seeing them in black and white. Most of the houses we pass by are lit by a single light bulb hanging over the porch or the front door. The rest is in darkness. The whole world seems to be wrapped in the throes of sleep.

The train stops at numerous stations. Starts. Blares its horn. Sways. I begin to listen to the "dunkuda-dukan-dukan" sound it makes. I stretch myself out. Suddenly shouts in my ear. "Nanuoya! Behaganna" (Get off! It's Nanuoya). I glance at my watch. Three thirty in the morning. I have been asleep for three hours. Insomniacs take note. An uncomfortable seat in the night-mail to Badulla could be your cure too!

I am grateful to see my uncle waiting at the station in spite of the early hour. But I can only offer sleepy groans when he questions me about my journey. All I can think of is a pillow and a bed and sleep. No ghost would be able to keep me awake for what is left of the night.

I spend most of the day on my own. My uncle, a planter, is away at work. When he comes home in the evening he takes me around the bungalow. He points to a hole in the ceiling of the sitting room. "That's a bullet hole. A former planter shot himself with a revolver. The bullet went through his skull and through that hole in the ceiling." I keep watching his face trying to detect at least a tiny spark of humour. But he is serious. In the front bathroom he points to a red stain in the middle of the bathtub. "That's blood. Blood which can never be washed away." I touch the red patch on the white porcelain and try to scratch it off with my finger. It's not paint. It's not ink. And I can't scratch it off.

"My mother slept in this room once and saw somebody standing at the foot of the bed. No one has slept in it since then," says my uncle taking me to a beautiful, immaculately neat bedroom. When we come to the door of the room in which I had slept the previous night, he says, "This is of course the one where an Appu (butlers in the upcountry are called Appus) hanged himself. See that hook on the ceiling? Appu was found hanging from a rope tied to that hook. His body was half decomposed by the time they took it down. He had locked the room before putting the noose round his neck."

"But I thought that was a hook used for hanging mosquito nets. How could it hold the weight of a grown man?" I ask him in disbelief. He merely shrugs. "Ask my own Appu if you don't believe me." His last words however, before he leaves me to turn in for the night are practical. "If you want hot water, keep the tap running for at least ten minutes. It takes time for the water to come through the pipes from the geyser."

I prepare myself for sleep. But not for a moment can I take my eyes off that hook. I picture Appu hanging from it. His eyes bulging out like the eyes of squid. His tongue sticking out. I begin to yearn for the familiar noises of Colombo. The noise of the traffic, the sound of the gatha from the temple, the sound of rap music from the room of the teenager next door. Out here all is quiet. I close my eyes but keep the light on. Seeing Appu in bright light is better than seeing him in the dark, I rationalize.

But my pride keeps nagging me. I do not want my uncle to see the chinks of light under my door, telling him I had slept with the lights on. I decide to go out on to the corridor to see if the light could be detected from under the door.

As I open the door and step on to the corridor I hear the sound of a tap running in my uncle's bathroom. I know Appu and the rest have gone off for the day. Only my uncle and I are inside the bungalow. Then I begin to hear noises from the room next to mine. The one which is never used. Somebody sighs. Mutters under his breath. A door slams shut. Slipper-clad feet begin to move in my direction. If only my uncle and I are in the bungalow and if my uncle is in the bathroom, probably having a shower, who could this be? I turn and run back to my room and lock the door. I hear the footsteps coming my way. I wait for them to stop at my door. They don't. The sound disappears into the night. I cover my head with the blanket and begin to mutter "Ithi piso... ithi piso.... ithi piso...". To my utter frustration my mind refuses to remember the rest of the words.

The hands of the clock on the wall above the fireplace move like the traffic on the 154-bus route. When they finally reach four in the morning I go in search of Appu for a cup of tea. I intend to catch the first train back to Colombo.

In the kitchen, Appu laughs at me and says the Podimenike arrives only at 9.55 a.m. I return to bed and try to figure out what had happened last night.

Enlightenment comes with the first rays of the sun. The voices of my uncle and Appu assail my ears.

"Appu, what have you done to the towels?" asks my uncle.

"They are in the linen cupboard," says Appu.

"Strange I couldn't find a single one last night."

The linen cupboard is in the room next to mine. My uncle would have been the one in the slipper-clad feet. He would have left the tap running in the bathroom and come in search of a towel. Even Mr. Watson would have figured it out.

I sigh in relief and doze off. I had spent the entire night with my eyes open. As I fall asleep, the rest of the words of "ithi piso" came back to mind. But now it's too late. I no longer need them (snore! snore! snore!). I had always known I was made of stronger stuff than Shaggy and Scooby.

Fitting in

Ruhanie Perera and Laila Nasry look at why working out is so popular with young people today

Everyone's talking about fitness. The Stepper, Fit and Fold, the Perfect Gym, you name it - every single contraption designed for exercise is advertised by the hour on television (and they come with special offers like a free exercise video). Gyms are springing up everywhere and almost all offer an irresistible, economical 'special' package. Fitness centres and aerobics classes are also targeting schoolgoers, the working crowd and even families. And for those who can't get out of the house, there are special programmes on TV. It's definitely a case of 'Fitness Fever' sweeping town.

Fitness today, is fast becoming a way of life for many. Everyone wants to look good and have a body others will look twice at. Living in a cellulite-conscious world like ours, all we see on TV. and in the glossy magazines are wafer-thin girls or guys with the perfect 'v' body. However today the focus on fitness has changed; for everyone who works out is not looking to be the next Cindy Crawford or Fabio. Rather they look to fitness to give them that extra strength, added self-confidence and the "feel good about myself" feeling.

Gyms are a number one option for fitness conscious people because all the equipment needed to shape you up lies under one roof and there are people to help you out with the "workout". "Power World"- a popular fitness centre caters to a large section of society. "We have programmes for all ages," says Mr. M.H.Manawadu, the fitness manager of "Power World". He insists that when it comes to new recruits, a questionnaire has to be filled in to help them check the applicant's medical history, muscular capacity and age before a personal programme is assigned.

The minimum age to join the gym is 16 years and the management is very particular about this rule. "We check their I.D. cards before enrolment," Mr. Manawadu stressed. After two months initial training, the client is supposed to report back to the fitness manager who once again checks the weight and muscle content to see whether the desired results are being achieved. "Membership alone is not enough. The proper diet is important, or else a person can lose muscle and gain fat. The diet varies according to the workout and what the person wants to achieve. But essentially carbohydrates at least two hours before the workout supplemented with proteins and other energy boosts are vital."

Aerobics classes are fast becoming another popular option and although "to the side, two, three and four", may seem a common utterance at such classes they are sweet music to the fitness-conscious. "Exercise is important for everyone, whatever age you may be - primarily because it's good for you and leaves you feeling good," says Rohini Wimalasuriya of 'Rohini-Aerobics'. In her opinion attending aerobics classes is just one form of exercise and there is no real necessity for a person to have to go for a class in order to get some exercise.

Rohini's programme concentrates on a complete workout, which involves cardiovascular exercise, strength training and stretching. However a person can get aerobic exercise by doing a particular activity continuously for a minimum of half an hour at a certain intensity - " you can do some power walking or put on some fast music and dance to it."

Rohini is very careful about those who join her classes because being a group activity they are not suited to those who need special attention. Those with various kinds of injuries, back problems, heart problems or even high blood pressure need moderate exercise and individual attention. But for the rest, aerobics can be a lot of fun. "You have a good time at class and you end up feeling like a million dollars," says Anusha, an 'aerobics addict' who with a laugh adds, "at one time I felt that I would just die if I couldn't make it for my aerobics class."

The type of exercise classes that Vajira (of dance repute) conducts are not just good for the body but also for the soul. "While the objective of exercise is to keep every part of the body supple" - there are special exercises even for the eyes. "What is different about this form of exercising is that your mind is not disturbed by day to day happenings. The technique is similar to meditation. The mind concentrates on the breathing pattern; thus it's a kind of relaxation where you don't dwell on either the pleasant or the unpleasant. Having your mind on a completely neutral plane cultivates a very calm attitude. That's why this exercise is not just exhilarates, but it also relaxes you," explains Vajira.

Ruvini has been working out for the past five years. Going to the gym has done wonders for her, she says. Not only has it reduced her weight and given her added strength, it also de-stresses her both physically and emotionally. This, she says, is a wonderful plus in the face of an extremely stressful job. The workouts are rigorous but all the same rewarding for she claims in one workout she burns up around 300-400 calories. "It has absolutely no side effects for me. Physically and mentally I feel very good and I think I am stronger than most of my colleagues."

"Working out is important, not just because it helps you look good, but also because it's part of a healthy lifestyle," says Safra who has been working out, losing weight and keeping fit. The aching muscles at the very beginning did not put her off and now she feels much better, satisfied and not guilty anymore.

Just as much as there are those who are all for working out, there are those who haven't as yet put fitness on their priority list. Nevertheless they've jumped on the bandwagon just like the rest and have joined a gym. Says Suren,- "I still haven't had those refreshing feelings, but I've felt a lot of body aches." They certainly understand that each person has his own objectives for working out, that it disciplines a person and can be quite a lot of fun if you are with a group. "Otherwise it can be rather a tedious task - I got sick of it and I began to hate it because it was too boring going on my own."

Whatever the mode of fitness you choose, one thing is certain–working out gives you a healthy body and a healthy mind. Carrying a gym bag and bottled water and heading to "Power World", buying the latest gym equipment or working out to "Jane Fonda" tapes are statements in themselves. Not only do they say "I'm 'in'" but more importantly "I'm fit".

More Mirror Magazine

Return to Mirror Magazine Contents