A night in a hane pale

 A night in a hane pale

Our great uncle lived in Buttala, Moneragala. This time we went to Buttala for the Christmas holidays. Our great uncle’s livelihood was farming. In addition to the paddy field, Mama also cultivates hay.

Uncle’s hena is located near Maha Mukalana. Hena plants surrounded by punishment are built on a fork on a tree. There is also a rope ladder to climb it.

At my strong urging, Big Uncle took me to Hena one day. When the curfew came, I went to Hena with my uncle. We climbed the plants along the rope ladder.

First uncle wiped the plants clean and then he told me to sit down on the hewn mat that was tied up. Uncle also brought some pieces of firewood from below and planted it.

As darkness fell, Uncle lit a hurricane lamp and hung it at the end of the tree. He then put the batteries into the three-piece torch and set it up. The bonfire was lit a little after midnight when the mosquito howls were heard.

We ate the rice root that my aunt had made. Now the heart is pounding in the sky. Uncle told me to go to sleep if I fell asleep. But I was not even near a sleepy place and I started looking around.

I can see the lights on in the other hens in the hay field. Eve is like a chandelier. Farmers in the surrounding fields sang pal poems as they left.

Uncle took the button hidden on the roof and started playing. Vasandadu Ravaya began to resonate throughout the hen yaya.

Uncle suddenly got up and mounted the flashlight on his head. He took the gun in his hand and began to search around Hena. “That son is trying to get a wild boar into the haystack” Uncle Torch showed me a pig in the light. I thought, “Uncle will shoot him now,” but he lit a firecracker and threw it at the event. In the middle of the night my uncle broke the milk corn and roasted it and fed it. The night spent in the evening will never be forgotten