Christmas at Diyatalawa

I took up my appointment in Diyatalawa in November 1951. Soon it was Christmas time. While a few visitors who had holiday bungalows there came in to spend a cold holiday, most of the temporary residents were leaving for Colombo and other destinations to spend Christmas in their own homes and Diyatalawa became a desolate place.

Our office too was more-or-less deserted - even the employees from Yalpanam taking Christmas leave. Mr. Alexander, however, stayed on to carry on with a skeleton staff. "I would have gladly invited you all to my home for christmas dinner, unfortunately I have no home here...." said Mr. Alexander smiling his mischievous smile as always. "I am also just a passer by here. So let's gather at the club one of these evenings and have a nice Christmas bash...!" Unfortunately the club too was closed for the season and we would have had to wait until after New Year for Mr. A's Christmas bash!

Somehow, out of the Camp Hotel dwellers, Bartho and I were the only chaps who stayed put (Bartho was studying for an exam and I had no place to go to) in Diyatalawa. Our friend Delilkhan too had stayed behind for some reason - most likely being asked to stay behind and look after the work, by the other field officers who had taken leave - and there was one other chap who had not left for Colombo, our mutual friend and tough guy, Donald Wijesinghe.

On Christmas eve Bartho went for a special mass at a church in Bandarawela and got back in time to join us for evening walk. So, Bartho Delilkhan, Donald and I started walking aimlessly - we had nothing else to do. There was hardly anyone on the road and we started walking towards Haputale.

The roads were so desolate, we turned back half way through and were walking back silently when suddenly Donald (whom we called 'Donalduwa' because of his toughness. If we had our own way, we would have called him 'Goriya) started singing loud and not so clear, in his ear-splitting baritone .... 'Saaailent Night..... Hooooly Night....... All is caaaalm..... All is brrrrright....Bartho and Deli joined him almost immediately and we were walking down the road in full throttle.

Unfortunately I coukd join them only in bits and pieces since I did not know the hymn properly. Every time I made a mistake I got a thumping whack on my back from Donalduwa which only made me sing louder but not correctly.

Singing in full throttle

Soon we were on the rail track past the Diyatalawa railway station and for no reason at all we started walking on the track still singing in full throttle.

Bartho obviously knew many Christmas hymns and he started on a new one when we had finished with one - of course after repeating it several times over.

Long time ago in
Bethlehem
The holy Bible says
Mary's boy-child
Jesus Christ
Was born on
Christmas day....
Joy to the world
The Lord is come
Let earth receive her King
Let every heart
Prepare him room
And Heaven and
natures sing...

Soon we passed the Diyatalawa station and we walked towards Idalagashinna. I too had learned most of the hymns by now since they were repeated several times and here was a four-some singing away to their hearts content along the railway line. Very soon men, women and children from the estate lines were coming out of their homes and lining up along the railway line to listen to this strange foursome and we were pleased no end.

We were almost on the Idalgashinna station when we noticed the signals down for an on-coming train from Colombo. Actually we did not notice it until we were alerted by some of the bewildered onlookers. We jumped on to the railway platform and kept on singing - standing in a row and gesturing appropriately. Soon the train came in and stopped at the station. We kept on singing.

Big bear

Heads were coming out of the windows and some of the mouths belonging to those heads started singing too along with us and they were waiving at us. We waived back while the train was pulling out.

We were tired and sore-throated.

We sat on a bench in the platform and little by little our volume dwindled and finally we became silent. A moment later some one was sobbing. It was poor Delilkhan. We let him cry for a while. "Nothing like Christmas Mmmmachaaang...." Deli was sobbing. "I shhhhould have been hhhhome for Chrissstmas Mmmmmachaang.." (Deli too developed a minor stammer when he was excited) We heard Bartho sniffing too while patting Deli on the back. Old Donaldu was growling in a kind of rough-kind manner, rather like a big bear growling at its playful cubs!

The few people who passed us, including some of the passengers who had just got down at the train, smiled with us. They were tolerant X'massy kind of smiles. One of the passengers had passed a small parcel which contained some sandwiches. It was on Donald's lap, untouched. Little by little Deli calmed down and Bartho stopped patting him, wiping his own eyes with a handkerchief that was already soaking wet.

Silently all four of us got up together. We got on to the rail track and started walking back. We had stopped our singing except for a lone line or two from old Donalduwa's baritone, which was much tamed by now. It was more an affectionate growl, to keep our spirits up and I am sure both Deli and Bartho appreciated it.

We were well into the night by the time we reached Diyatalawa town. The cold was biting and we were feeling hungry. There were lights and voices from just a few houses - mostly holiday bungalows. Most govt. quarters were locked up. The cinema hall was closed.

There were lights in one of the PWD quarters and we decided to just look in. We knew the occupant. He was Mr. Tuan Booso from our office. We knocked and Tuan Booso opened the door. "My God!" declared Booso as he saw the four of us looking tired, hungry and cold. 'Come in, come in..." He continued. "Preena!" He called his wife. "Look who is here. Look at them. They look so hungry. Good thing you have prepared 'barbuth' tonight. Let's give them a good feed, Preena!"

And a good feed we had, that Christmas night. We were served with a little bit of Christmas 'spirit' too by Tuan Booso, before dinner.

Thought of the week

I often wonder how we became such avid lovers of this game called cricket. When I say we, I mean countries like India, Bangladesh, Pakistan and many other Asian countries.

The British, our one time rulers gave the game to us. Often enough, we have beaten them in their own game, which is a comforting thought. I am not a totally avid lover of cricket, but like it well enough to watch it at least when 'our boys' (as Arjuna Ranatunga and Sanath Jayasuriya refer to them often) play the game.

They call it a 'gentleman's game'. If that is so, not only our cricketers, but even the millions who watch it live or over TV or even those who listen to it over radio should become gentlemen. I grant that all our players are gentlemen.

How about the rest of them - like those who man, or manoeuvre to man the game of cricket in Sri Lanka - not to mention our neighbouring countries? And how about the millions who watch it? No sir, cricket has not made us any better! We have become some of the most ill behaved, unmindful and selfish people of this planet called earth in spite of cricket. How about fostering another game, say, like Volleyball?

P.S.

Was it a 'silly point' - this cricket thing - in the 'long on'? How could one turn a 'fine leg' with a 'Square leg' and a 'short leg' to boot?

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