BUCKET LIST.

BUCKET LIST.

Autumn colours seemed to be dashing away from my view on MI highway whilst I was seated on the back seat of my daughter’s car along with my granddaughter.

As a self-proclaimed excellent driver, I have never been habituated to travel on the rear seat but, on this day I enjoyed the company of my teenage granddaughter while savouring the English landscapes flashing by.

My granddaughter, a bookworm was totally engrossed in her book, while I had my eyes fixed on her. Sweet memories of my daughter’s childhood flashed in front of me. From the day she was born to the day of her marriage, all major events flashed by. It was like in a movie where I was one of the actors.

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Best Man at my wedding was planning to get married to his longtime sweetheart in Colombo. During this time I was stationed at Talawakelle and when his invitation came via post, I was faced with a huge problem for the date clashed with my wife’s delivery of our second baby.

Even though he would definitely have understood my plight, I was quite keen in attending the occasion. The baby arrived a day before and I took the next train down to Colombo and straight to the party.

Friends from my previous employment with the then CTB gathered around one table comparing notes of our lives now scattered all over the island. A late comer approached us with a girl clad in a beautiful saree and started introducing her to us.

“Friends, meet my girlfriend Pancha”

“What...Is that her pet name?” I showed my surprise at such an uncommon name

“No...That is her real name”

“Are you serious or kidding” I was still not sure.

“I am serious”

“Ok..My wife delivered a baby girl yesterday and I just found the right name for her”

My baby girl became Pancha and to this day I love that name.

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Late seventies, it was the annual trip organised by the rebellious faction of the Tea Research Institute at Talawakelle. That year we decided to camp along with our families within the world famous Yala Sanctuary where wild beasts of all types are rampant. Enthusiasm was running high and while the bachelors were hiding behind a facade of Faked gallantry the familied ones were being extra vigilant at protecting their loved ones.

My son was around 6 years old and my newly born daughter at around 1 year were sleeping inside the hut and we were seated around a campfire expecting to hear the growl of a bear, the trumpet of an elephant or a roar of a leopard. With lost hopes of adventure we were only listening to the chirps of crickets, croaks of frogs and screeches of bats. Occasionally we heard the bellowings of deer.

When the effects of alcohol started running through the veins of the witty lot mockery erupted through their voices. One of the hard nuts were saying that it would have been better if we had camped at Galle face green in Colombo where we could have listened and even caught some chicks. Another high with booze was cursing at the animals hiding behind the trees.

“You fucking assholes hiding behind the trees watching us, we have no guns, only cameras to shoot you and you bastards are not showing up”

When all hopes of seeing a wild beast, leave alone the dangerous ones, at least a deer faded away I approached my two little children sleeping on a mat inside the hut. The sight of two Tarantulas probably in copulation just inches away from my daughters head froze me on my steps.

I was totally dumbstruck but gained enough senses to signal my wife who was just behind me to remain silent. Taking my baby girl quietly into my hands I handed over her to my wife and retrieved my son. Very quietly I tiptoed with my wife to safety and told one of my friends the plight and asked him to use a slipper to smash the 2 tarantulas.

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Suddenly the sight of a stray dog on the road caught my eye but, since I am attuned to the presence of stray dogs on the roads in Sri Lanka it failed to make an impression even in the UK. Must have been the dying brain cells due to my age.

Although the instantaneous distraction disturbed my memories for a while, when I looked back at her, she was seated dressed as a bride. Suddenly we were in Sri Lanka on our way to a reception hall for her wedding. My daughter on the wheel, grown a bit old and my wife in the front seat. We all were in a very happy mood, although my wife had wet eyes.

In the background, Sunil Edirisinghe’s voice with soft music filled the air inside the car. “ Duwe numba mage pranayai, Sebe wunu suba sihinayai”. History is making a re-appearance in front of my own eyes. My eyes were moist and I felt a lump in my heart. This is the day my wife and I as grandparents had been waiting for. I felt a bit of jealousy when the thought of not having the opportunity for leading the bride on to the “Magul Poruwa.” My son in law had that once in a lifetime privilege which I enjoyed decades back. On that day I inadvertently wiped my hands off after leading my daughter to the poruwa. From that instance, my daughter belonged to my son in law.

The car suddenly stopped and the voice of my daughter brought me back to reality.

“Come on, get off guys we are home.”

I realized that it had been an important daydream and not just another one. It was not a stray dog that I saw on M1 but, a live fox. Life itself is a dream.

One can make it sweet or sour only by your actions and attitude.

I put the whole scenario into my BUCKET LIST.