|A kinithulla story
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|Author:||Guest [ Tue Jun 17, 2008 7:42 pm ]|
|Post subject:||A kinithulla story|
A kinithulla story
Narrated by GAYATHRI HEWAGAMA
@ LBN /25May2008
This is a kinithulla story. Oh no! This is not about the little kinithullas that pester stray dogs that you see here, there and everywhere. This is about a particular two legged kinithulla that one gets to see here, there and everywhere, one who constantly dreams of making the female body its permanent habitat.
Once upon a time, there lived a two-legged kinithulla who used to frequent bus-stops, roads, shops. ‘No kinithullas allowed’ boards could never keep it away. It used to climb up the railings alongside roads, it sat on pavement edges, and it clambered up little benches near shops and waited… And once its waiting was over at midnight, it went back to its mud hole and came back up early next morning. The wonder of wonders was that this kinithulla could SPEAK! Now, for the ease of reference, let’s call it, ‘kolla’. (Substitute ‘inithu’ with ‘o’ and you get k+o+lla= kolla).
So, this kolla suffered from a one-of-a-kind illness in its head (and in certain other essential organs of his body) which was in fact due to an age-old curse that was put upon him centuries ago by the underworld (the local yamalokaya). Each time it saw a female human being (mostly aged between 15 and 30 years), the yamapallas (the universal ‘demons’) of the underworld who constantly kept watch over it, made sure that they tickled its posterior. This tickling thereafter sent signals (beep! beep!) through the nerves of its body to its brain. The yama signal was then transferred from the brain to its mouth which in turn tickled the vocal chords into producing speech. Poor kolla! Whether kolla liked it or not, the tickling of the posterior made the speech-production automatic and therefore out of his control.
Thus, each time a female passed by, phrases such as the following were articulated quite unknown to the kinithulla: (Note- The kinithulla language is translated into English according to my abilities, for the benefit of readers)
“Kelle, dekkama badaganna hithenawa”- “Feel like embracing you, girl”.
If the female frowned at it, “Thaththa policiyeda?”- “Is your father a policeman?”
If the female is seen all by herself on a deserted road, “zip eka arala, karana heti pennannada?”- “Shall I open my zip and show you how to do it?”.
(Did you say ‘cheeya’? Now, if we gals can hear it everyday on public roads, can’t you bare just ‘reading’ it in a newspaper? Drop your prudery and read on will ya!)
If the female is wearing jeans/pants, “onna zip eka arila!”- “There, your zip is open!”
If the female looks ‘westernized’, “ah, Americawen da godabesse?”- “Have you come down from the States?”
“Sha! Maru kalla gedara geniyanna hithenawa” - “Nice item! Feel like taking her home”.
“Mara baduwa, keeyada gana?”- “Nice item, what’s your price?”
At times, the signal did not end its journey at kolla’s vocal chords but was transferred to his hands as well. So sometimes, kolla himself tickled the posteriors of the females.
Thus, the curse worked its full course so well that kolla could not find any useful employment for himself than working according to the dictates of the yamapallas.
Then one day, the kinithulla met with an accident.
On that fateful day, it came to its usual bus-stop early in the morning to get its posterior tickled as well as to tickle female posteriors. It stood at the edge of the pavement turning its head from side to side. There came a female-in-pants and the yama signal took over.
” Nangi, aiya gedarada? Ada saya amathaka unada?” (Is your brother at home today? Did you forget your skirt?), said kolla.
With that, it extended its hand to commence the tickling process and with a sudden swish of a wind, the kinithulla lost its balance and fell, right in the path of the female-in-pants! Not even a sound was heard as it landed on the ground like a semi-deflated balloon full of wind. And then, with a sudden motion, the female-in-pants took a detour to cross the road. Time suspended itself. A dog barked. A crow shat on the head of a passer-by. A squashy little sound was heard. “Chus!”
And the kinithulla lay dead under the weight of the female-in-pants’ shoe-heel.
Oh! No! That’s not the end of the fairy tale. So this dead kinithualla was reborn in the underworld as an assistant to the yamapallas. And it happily lives to this day, excelling in its talent of tickling the posteriors of the rest of the two-legged kinithullas that have managed to have their hold in the human world.
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