By Rihaab Mowlana

A few years ago, Colombo’s idea of Halloween was bored teenagers huddled together to enjoy a horror movie marathon. Today, it’s a month-long moodboard featuring haunted brunches, ragers, themed cocktails, and photo booths elaborate enough to summon the actual dead. Somewhere between the plastic skeletons and pumpkin lattes, fear became fashionable. And profitable.

Halloween was once a foreign holiday we watched in Hollywood movies, filed under “things Sri Lankans don’t really do.” But like most Western imports, it didn’t take long for us to give it a local remix that was part commerce, part content, and a generous dash of FOMO (fear or missing out). It’s no longer about horror stories; it’s about Instagram stories.

So, when did Halloween stop being spooky and start being strategic?

The Business of Boo

For restaurants, bars, and bakeries, October has quietly become the new December. Everyone wants a theme, and everyone knows it sells. Cafés dim the lights, hang fake cobwebs, and rename their drinks Bloody Mary 2.0. Event planners pitch “haunted experiences” that promise goosebumps and come with a service charge. Even your corner bakery gets in on the act, selling ghost cupcakes at prices that would scare your accountant.

“In Colombo, Halloween isn’t about tradition, it’s about traction,” laughs one event planner, who admits most clients just want an excuse to fill their reels. And she’s right. Fear may not be in the air, but branding certainly is.

From corporate parties to five-star hotel soirées, the market for Halloween-themed everything has exploded. Imported décor flies off shelves, costume rentals are booked out weeks in advance, and restaurants now design full “spook menus” not because anyone’s asking for them, but because no one wants to be left out of the trend.

The Gen Z Effect

If the city’s businesses are cashing in, Gen Z is the one running the show. For them, Halloween is less about fright and more about the flex. It’s a season for content -  for elaborate makeup, thrifted outfits, and moody shoots in candlelight.

Photographers offer “Halloween specials,” makeup artists advertise “ghoul glam,” and influencers post carousel after carousel captioned “When the real world’s scary enough.” It’s theatre, yes, but with ring lights.

This generation grew up in a digital culture where every celebration is performative. Halloween simply fits the algorithm. It’s the one time of year you can look unrecognisable and still get likes for it. In a way, it’s less an imported holiday and more a social ritual. A marker of belonging in a digital Colombo that loves a theme.

Fear Sells, Especially When Life’s Already Scary

There’s also something deeper and a little ironic about paying to be frightened in a country that’s lived through its fair share of real fear. Maybe that’s why this version of Halloween feels almost cathartic.

In a place where fear once meant fuel shortages, power cuts, or political chaos, the kind that comes with candy and cocktails feels refreshingly manageable. For a night, you can scream about ghosts instead of taxes. You can laugh about zombies instead of the cost of eggs. It’s escapism, pure and simple, packaged with glitter and dry ice.

Psychologists might call it “controlled fear”, the kind that gives you adrenaline without actual risk. But for most of us, it’s just a chance to play pretend in a world that feels heavy enough already.

The Price of Participation

Of course, not everyone can afford to buy into the fantasy. Halloween in Colombo is still largely an urban, upper-middle-class affair. It’s the same crowd hopping from one themed event to another, swapping wigs between venues. For others, it’s just another reminder of the city’s cultural and economic divide.

Many older generations dismiss it as “unnecessary foreign nonsense.” But for younger Colombo, it’s less about ghosts and more about gathering. Another reason to dress up, go out, and momentarily forget how exhausting everything else feels.

Maybe that’s the real trick, the illusion that everyone’s invited.

The New Face of Fright

Halloween has quietly become a mirror of modern Colombo itself - playful, performative, and always ready for a good photo. It’s not about horror anymore. It’s about hustle. Fear is no longer something to survive; it’s something to sell.

So as the city’s bars fill up with fake blood and overpriced cobwebs, remember: the scariest part of Halloween might not be the ghosts. It’s the bill.