The Dancing Lady of Ceylon
A Sri-Lankan Disappearance
The liquid in my tea-cup is actually a gentle Irish cream, so let me apologize in advance: while I would love be drinking chai this evening, I had to both be practical AND keep my eyes open.
A chaotic day for my children is coming to an end, and their father is singing them Hebrew lullabies. The house-hold’s quiet; clothes are (mostly) put away; lights are off for relaxation.
But I still have cabin fever.
I want to get away from things. To not have to cook 3 meals at the same time, doubling the turmeric in all my recipes to strengthen our immune systems during this time of Corona. To not have to worry when my son walks out the door that he’ll bring his skateboard but forget his mask. To not have to worry that even if we do everything right, things could still go terribly wrong.
For those new to some of my work, my name is Könchok. Our family is part of the new-working-poverty poor. It doesn’t bother me. Being poor, that is, because what welack in fancy gadgets and Kardashian designer wear, we try to make up for in kindness, compassion, and love.
To escape my restlessness in the wretched last throes of 2020, I want to close my eyes and sit back. Please, sit beside me: you may not be here physically, but there is no distance between us. When I close my eyes, I will see Ceylon, and you’ll be there with me, looking for a dancing Tamil lady who may never have existed.
Sri Lanka is a stunning island nation located south of India, where the crime rate is almost non-existant and tourists in pre-COVID times could enjoy their safaris, walk with elephants, and seek at least a glimpse of the leopards that lurk inland, in Sri Lanka’s gorgeous jungles. One could also visit the tiny nation’s various Buddhist ruins, many of which were built more than 2,000 years ago.
And then there were the stunning Sinhalese dancers, performing their mesmerizing art-form with the smooth sway of hips, practiced arms adorned with bangles and jewelry, and almost equanimitous expressions. The dancers were adorned with tiaras, clad in silken garments with pops of color so bright that they rivaled any young blooms in Sri-Lankan gardens.
In 1937 (Sri Lanka was still Ceylon back then), a group of Englishmen visited the island and came away from their experience with a story so whimsical that today, nearly 80 years later, it still titillates the imagination.
At that time, a trio of Western men had come to tour the island. Katagarma Temple was their destination, and the three watched with fascination while Tamil and Sinhalese villagers performed their sacred dance.
Among them was a young woman. Tamil, most likely. Her looks were so stunning, and her countenance so unusual, that the three foreigners decided to photograph her. Her affect was such that she seemed to be ‘entirely consumed in religious ecstasy’.
The first man, a Mr. DeZilwa, took two or three photos showing the young lady framed between two male dancers. The second, English artist Brooke-Farrar, took 8 photos, and their companion Mr. Smith had the presence of mind to make a short film.
The mystery began when the three tourists retired together and had their film developed.
The exquisite Tamil dancer was nowhere in their photographs or the film.
Aghast, they scrutinized their images, but the beautiful woman was nowhere to be seen. Yet that couldn’t be possible, the comrades agreed: they had seen her. All three of them. And from different angles and varying positions within the crowd. She had absolutely, positively been there. None of the three had had anything to drink and all had reputable backgrounds, so how could it be that the mysterious dancer they’d ALL seen didn’t show up in any of the photographs?
Could she have been a ghost?
Unwilling to consider such a clearly superstitious idea, the men decided to go back to the temple and question the villagers there about the mysterious dancer. Surely, others had to have seen her. But as the story goes, the Ceylonese inhabitants questioned by these tourists became tight-lipped and silent. Many would not speak to them at all. It was as if the mere mention of the dancing lady had ignighted the subtle fires of inner fear.
DeWilza, Smith, and Brooke-Farrar were quickly getting nowhere with their attempts at interrogation. Just as they might have considered giving up, though, a villager was cornered who finally expounded on the mystery. He claimed not to know of any dancing lady, but declared that every year, a ‘death-woman’ would dance on the temple steps.
All who saw her, according to the villager, were accursed.
Quite unceremoniously, this is where the mystery ends. The three English tourists had been forever affected by it, however, so much so that they planned to return to Ceylon to look for her the following year. But as far as can be gleaned, there are no documents or reports verifying that they did go back, or that the mystery of who this dancing lady was had ever been solved.
It’s well past evening as I put together the last touches for this piece, and I’ll be honest: mysteries like these can plague me for weeks. Sometimes, it’s all I can think about: what exactly happens to people who simply disappear? And in this case, was there anything supernatural involved?
The possibilities of who this lady was are few. If she were actually present, then she should have shown up in the photographs. One could argue that photography wasn’t as polished back then, and that the men had perhaps focused wrongly. I find this theory unlikely. It might be understandable for her to have been missing in two, three, or maybe four images, but there were more than ten overall! And if she was a hallucination, how was it that all three men had seen her, independently, and at the same time? Could she have been an angel, or the spiritual imprint of a devoted young woman who had once worshipped the Buddha or Hindu gods with her ecstatic dancing at the temple?
I have a few of my own ideas, but as with any tantalizing mystery, it’s unlikely anyone will know for sure. And, of course, I hope that the three tourists who experienced this ethereal beauty lived full, long lives — free of any curse.
Source Material: www.anomalyinfo.com
