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Magazine |
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Going home
for the New Year But he was not satisfied with most of his purchases. They had been too cheap! The shirt he had bought for his father had cost only Rs.125.00. The material was good and he had not been able to find a single defect. But he was still suspicious. He had removed the price tags on all of them, none of which had exceeded Rs.290. Achala felt guilty he had spent so little on New Year presents, especially when this was the first new year he had money of his own to spend on gifts - money he had earned by working as a trainee quality control officer in a private firm in Colombo. Then, he decided this was not his fault. Clothes simply happened to be cheap this year. But at the moment, his mind was on other things. Even though the time stood at ten minutes past seven, Batagaha junction, where he had got off from the bus, was shrouded in darkness. The last bus would have left at six-thirty. With only half an hour left for the nonagathe to begin, Achala knew he had no choice but to walk the three miles home. Five minutes after he had begun walking he heard the sound of a car behind him. As it took the final bend Achala raised his arm, willing it to stop. The brake lights came on, and he waited. The car slowed down. He peered inside. Two boys, who looked to be Achala's age, were seated in the front. At the back were two girls. The younger of the two looked at Achala, said something and started to giggle. The other joined her. The boys smiled. The car reduced speed but went past him without stopping. Achala realized Amma and Thaththa would be getting worried when the last bus would have gone past his house. He had telephoned them before leaving his boarding house. Now he had no way of contacting them. All the shops were closed and his mobile phone said, "no-signal". He walked on wearily. Achala met the white car again at the railway crossing. No one inside noticed him as he went past. They were tickling one another, cracking jokes and laughing at the top of their voices. It was obvious they had come down to stay with a planter in his bungalow during the new year vacation. The train was late and Achala thought it served them right to wait at the crossing. He still thought they could have given him a lift. After five minutes or so, he heard the sound of the car again. His weary limbs forced him to believe they had not seen him, that first time, to stop. He raised his arm again. The road was now deserted. In the distance he heard the sound of crackers signalling the beginning of nonegathe. There were no bends ahead this time. When the car slowed down, Achala knew they would have seen him. It screeched to a halt, a little ahead of him. He walked up to the front of the car and looked in. He saw clearly the five faces staring at him. He waited for someone to make a move. But they simply stared at him for a while before starting off and speeding into the distance. But as the car left him he heard one of the girls exclaim, "How did he overtake us?" The boy in the front seat turned to her and said, "He can't be real. He must be a ghost, who had died on this road, probably in a car accident, last new year." Achala had a
fleeting glimpse of the startled faces of the girls before the car
took the next bend and disappeared from his sight. |
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Copyright © 2001 Wijeya Newspapers
Ltd. All rights reserved. |
village
for the new year, with presents for everybody at home, muttered
Achala to himself as he began to walk the final track home. The
bag on his shoulder was heavy with the new clothes he'd bought from
various "bargain-sales" and "Houses" filled
with clothes in Colombo. 
