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| Wednesday, 29 September 2004 |
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The Dragon roars Although in our village there was a lot of talk about the 'Yudde' it was still a rather distant thing to us - in spite of the local lads strutting about in uniform. And then suddenly one Sunday morning, on the 5th of April 1942, the Dragon really roared. It came in the form of a fleet of airplanes. They flew over our lands in impressive formations with a drone - a dull eerie kind of drone-like the distant roar of a dragon. We had never seen so many aeroplanes in our skies, and in such impressive formations. We children were delighted to see so many 'ahasiyantara' in the skies and we were looking up in bewilderment and joy until our craniums ached. But the elders were looking glum, exchanging glances of concern among them. "Must be some aerial exercise....," said some. "Can't be, we don't have so many airplanes...," said others. "This is serious. Really serious. Don't expose the children... put them in a low-lying place like a ditch... Don't let them run around...." Some knowing person sent the word around but the kids were not to be found. They had all gathered in the open paddy fields, fallow after harvest, and they were straining their necks looking up at the skies, chatting and chattering excitedly. Finally the children would have been gathered up and put away in safety, I am sure. Awful truth Soon enough we came to know the awful truth. Colombo had been bombed. Bombed by the Japanese - the rascals: All kinds of stories spread like wild fire... All of Colombo is destroyed. There is not a single person remaining alive ... Dead bodies are heaped all over.. Colombo is like a ghost city...
The eldest, "Newton Aiya (Loku Aiya to Akka and me) had gone to Colombo for something or the other although it was Sunday. (Loku Aiya was doing some job in the Marketing Dept. of the time, headed by one R. H. Bassette, a white man who later wrote some stories about 'Mariya, The Jackal - etc. if I remember right) the second male, Dharmaratne Aiya, who was schooling at Kelaniya at that time had gone to his school on some special duty and the third male, Nissanka Aiya (Ratu Aiya to us) was at Nugegoda, boarded at our Kudamma's sister's home, schooling at Ananda Sastralaya. My poor Akka was in inconsolable. I was scared more than anything else. With all these stories going round we had come to the conclusion that all three of our brothers would have come to harm. The most vociferous and the most agitated one in our home was our Kudamma (Step mother) whom we called "Mother". There was no end to her berating my father, who was calmly engaged in clearing some shrubs in the garden. "Look at this man.." She wailed. "Wielding a mammoty in the garden with no concern for our children.. You must be a heartless man... Some father you are..." There was no end to poor Kudamma's laments. Meanwhile Akka and I would run to the dirt path that led to the town from our village, again and again, hoping to see someone coming from the town, who would have some good news for us. My silly mind would conjure up all kinds of images.. A cart wending its way on our dust path, and my three Aiyas in the cart, not dead but badly wounded, yet smiling with courage.. Or, some unusual miracle, some kind Deva had brought all three of our brothers to our very own doorstep, totally unharmed.. and then they (the Devas) have departed as secretly as they had come... And again, they have been dropped in our very garden, by one of the very aeroplanes that flew over us in the morning.. You see, they, the Japankaaraya, had realised the worth of these wonderful brothers... and brought them home... Makeshift kitchen Meanwhile it was past noon and my father came into the makeshift kitchen (We had rented out our two houses to families that had already fled Colombo, and was by now, living in this makeshift home) pouring with sweat after his labour in the hot sun, poured a glass of water for himself from the Kalagediya, drank it in a couple of mighty gulps and sat down - on a makeshift bench in the kitchen. He cleared his throat and looked amused and good-naturedly at Kudamma, and at the two of us too, who were covering behind the makeshift doorway. He was smiling which made us even more cross with him. "Look here Aslyn..." He declared gravely to Kudamma. "Look here children..." Most often our father called us by name, he seldom addressed us as 'Lamaya' or 'Daruwa', but here he was calling us "Look here", children and for a moment I was delighted. "Look here" he continued. "No harm will come to any of my children. They will come back home in the evening, safe and sound. Don't anyone of you worry..." He declared emphatically. And then he went on to relate a Jataka story, where a certain Brahmana who was absolutely sure of his son, declined to accept all kinds of 'proof' that others brought to him saying that his son was dead. They brought bits of hair, bits of teeth and bone, bits of cloth and all kinds of things, but the Brahmana refused to budge. "I have never committed a 'sin' in my life. The Brahmana had declared. "And no harm can come to any of my children..." I was not all that interested in the Jataka story my father related, but I was very much impressed by his confidence which ran through me like an elixir. True to my father's words all three brothers came home by night fall - even Nissanka Aiya, from his Nugegoda home. Loku Aiya, looking very wise and serious, as he always did, debunked all the nasty rumours and assured us that only parts of Colombo, had been hit and the damage was not very serious. Not only that, he assured us that some of the Japanese pilots and their fighter craft had been shot down by our boys. **** Back **** |
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One never knew how the rumours spread and who started it all. Nor did
anyone try to find out in the heat of things. All I remember is that we
were scared out of our skins. We had reason to. Although it was a Sunday,
three of the family - all my three elder brothers were in Colombo.
