The Game

His palms were sweaty, and his knees were weak. “All I need now is some spaghetti and I’m in an Eminem song” he thought to himself and chuckled. At 24, Rishad Jaffar looked like any other average teenager. Only those with trained eyes could see that there was more to him than met the eye. Having come back home from a full day of work, Rishad was eagerly anticipating the night ahead. “This is gonna be so much fun” he said out just a bit too loud. “What was that, Rishad?”, his mother looked up from her book and asked.

“Nothing”, said Rishad, with a barely conceivable glint in his eye. For now, everything was going according to plan. With a swish of his hair, Rishad turned his attention to the matter at hand. “Things are about to get very very interesting”, he smiled and thought to himself. In front of him was a large display with images of several females on it. Each character looked even more alluring than the rest. Rishad’s breathing was almost a pant now. Excitement was flooding through him. “So much choice, so little time”, Rishad thought to himself.

Would he go with the lithe form of the first character? Her outfit was by no means skimpy but was tailored in a way that left very little to the imagination. The second image showed someone with a bit more ‘oomph’ to their body. “Them hips”, Rishad mused. He had had his eye on her for a while. Should he go all out and satisfy his cravings for her? Or leave it for another day? In a battle between heart and mind, his mind, for once won. Still Rishad wasn’t disappointed. There was more where that came from. The next form, swift, graceful, powerful, but also deadly. A titillating combination. That was followed by the image of someone cute, innocent and positively childlike. But they had a temper that was almost unbearable.

Rishad felt himself getting more and more excited. “The time to make my decision is approaching. Soon, everyone will know my name”, he thought to himself. What he was about to do, no man, woman or child had dared do before. He could feel the sweet taste of it on his lips. He was euphoric, giddy even. The results of what he was to do was palpable.

Taking a steady breath, he calmed himself of his excitement to focus on his primary objective for the night. A quick look at the clock above his head showed that the opportune time was almost upon him. “Soon, my brothers will join me, and we will relish in the delights that await us”.

With that glint in his eye, Rishad pressed a button on screen. The screen went black for a few seconds and came back on. Tribal music played softly from the headphones on his head. “You guys ready to do this?” a voice spoke through the headphones. “Aye, this shit is gonna be f**kin lit, yo” another voice replied. “Remember, we do NOT divulge our identities, ever. This is a secret we take to our graves”. A moment of silence hung in the air. Rishad and four others as if connected to the same hive mind nodded in unison. This game of League of Legends was gonna be a killer.

Cinderella

Singing has always been a staple part of my life. From the young age of 8, I joined the primary choir of St. Peter’s College and then proceeded to sing in the College choir, and the Peterite Chorale. I also was part of the various choirs in church. That was the one thing that stayed constant. It also meant that I was exposed to choral music and very few types of other music such as  Barbershop quartets and the likes. OK, i’m getting carried away here. Let’s get moving.

I first met Natasha Senanayake (whom I now fondly call “Nats”), when she walked into the place I worked at previously (Redline Technologies) to meet Thishan who was one of my best friends and who was also my co-worker. Natasha had just released her EP “One Tuesday” and I remember listening to it on replay and I managed to get an autographed copy of it. Seeing her in person was akin to me coming face to face with a celebrity. The three of us got talking and maybe a few weeks later, she came to the store again in a panic with a issue in her laptop. Through a humorous mix up, she had somehow managed to minimize a window in Sibelius and couldn’t get her music to play. Me being the tech nerd I am, managed to fix it without too much hassle and we all had a good laugh about it.

It was here that the ball started rolling. Thishan told Natasha that I have a singing voice and that he “thinks that I can sing”. To this day Natasha thinks I got offended when she asked me if I can sing, whereas in reality I was shy about it. Moving on, a few months later, I got a call from Natasha asking me whether I would like to be a part of her next musical project. Ever curious about music, I immediately agreed. She then told me that I had to audition. A mild panic set in. I am an introvert by default and being antisocial is my nature. That being said, singing in front of a crowd also somewhat terrifies me. However, I made up my mind, and agreed to it. Auditions for “the production” had already started but I was unable to make it to any of them due to work constraints. However, we both agreed to a date that was flexible and I would have my audition there. If I was selected, I would have to stay for the practice immediately afterwards.

As usual, my mind went into overthink mode as I thought of what I would sing, what would happen if they didn’t like my voice and what if I just made a fool of myself. Having all these thoughts at the back of my mind, I said “screw it, imma do this anyway” and on the 22^nd of May 2017, I made my way over to Nat’s place.

After I walked into the house, I was introduced to Natasha’s sister Anushka and we chatted for awhile and then it was time for me to sing. I did my bit and patiently waited. A few anxious moments, and that was it. I WAS IN!.

As I waited for the first ever practice, I also realized that I had no clue what I was singing for, or what I would be a part of. Nonetheless, I took my seat and waited patiently for the others to arrive. Speaking of which, despite Natasha reciting the names of the others in the cast, I had absolutely no clue who they were apart from Harin Amirthanathan as we were good friends. The rest of the members all came and we were all introduced to each other and we sat according to our respective parts. Me being a Bass, I was with Harin and Aushadie. Once the music was given to us we ran over one or two songs and sorted out the various parts and put them together. So far, so good and we sounded pretty good as well. The second half of the practice was where Anushka came into play.

“We are all actors, dancers and singers”. Those were the first words she told us. She spoke with intense passion for acting and theatre and it made us feel that anything was possible.

Apart from this, Anushka or Anu as we fondly called her, taught us a lot about team building and theatre tips and tricks and most importantly, taught us how to keep our energy levels up and feed off each other’s positive energy to improve ourselves. As we only had around two months for the entire production, this essentially meant that we would be practicing from right after work to late night till the show was over. Despite the fact that this would mean me needing to find ways to balance my work life, I was up for it.

Anu’s next announcement was that the Saturday following the first practice would be a movement practice. My worst fears were confirmed: I would have to dance. Now to others, this may not seem like a problem. But I have abysmal dancing skills and equally horrendous movements skills to boot. Still, I was up for the challenge and Saturday dawned, bright, early, and somewhat loud as the next door neighbors were up to their construction work.

I made my way over to the practice. It was there that Anu introduced us to Umeshi Rajeendra, aka our Choreography director. She started off with a series of warm ups that in all honesty made me feel like I had run a marathon. In just 30 minutes, I was a sweaty mess. As I looked around, I realized that the others were too. While the warmups did make us feel energized after they were done, during the warmup, I was aching in places I never knew I had. After a small water break it was time to get down to brass tactics. Umeshi taught us a few steps that felt easy to learn at the time, but they she kept going, and going, and going. By the end of it, we had a total of 7 dance steps that we had to remember and master. I learnt them all and performed them with the grace of a baby sloth. I actually had half a mind to drop out of the dance-y bits and just be a part of the chorus but something kept telling me to go on, and so I did.

Days became weeks and we attempted to master both the musical and dancing portions of the production. The biggest scene for us to master was the Town scene for a song called “The Prince is giving a ball/Now is the time”. I would play the role of a merchant who had a cart he would push on stage and then run into Sachi, who was selling newspapers. After a brief altercation, we would go our separate ways and carry on with our work. The town scene required a LOT of energy and almost mechanical pinpoint movement which would look horrible if not done correctly. Once this was done, it was time to move on to the next big scene: The Cinderella Waltz. This is where Cinderella and Prince Topher aka Christopher Rupert would have their first dance at a ball held for the prince to find a suitable bride. When I was told that I would be in the Waltz, I almost fell over laughing at myself. There was no way in heaven or hell that I would have the physical capability or knowledge to remember all the steps for a waltz. Umeshi seemed to read our minds and took a compartmental approach where she made sure we were confident in one section before moving on to the next. The first few lessons were confusing and also awkward for me. Fortunately, my dancing partner Roshalie was pro at this and with her help, I managed to remember most of the steps.

Now is the time, the time to act. The infamous town scene that we were determined to perfect.

As time went on we moved into the month of July and things were slowly and steadily coming together. Practices usually involved the sections where we had both movement and song so as to perfect them. This ranged from a march, to the town scene, to the ballroom waltz, to a pursuit in the forest, complete with lanterns and also a call to arms announcing a banquet. The rehearsal space we were at almost our third home (the second being the Senanayake residence). We would practice in one area and then quickly head over to the other side as they had just switched off the AC and the cool air was still present in the room. We also worked out a system to bring food such as fruits and biscuits along with water so that we could energize ourselves during rehearsals.

Practice alone, a production does not make. One must also take notes on how to perfect one’s actions

To say that things were smooth sailing would be a lie. From Danny slipping and chipping his tooth, to me spraining my ankle, to us forgetting dance moves, we had our share of mistakes, mishaps and accidents. We also had our share of happy memorable events. Perhaps one of the most memorable ones is when a dancer, Jemiah by name, had an accident that sprained her leg. The sheer amount of pain she was in was unbearable to watch. Fortunately, there was a doctor close by and we did all we could to soothe her pain. At that point, we all felt united. A single body with one heart and we all did what we knew best: we sang. We sang and sang and sang. We harmonized, we improvised and we bloody well-made Jemiah feel loved beyond anything. I actually recall stopping for a moment and just watching the TJ chorus (Theatre Junction Chorus) united as one singing and bringing happiness to this girl who was in pain. It truly was a magical moment. We were still singing when the doctor walked in and he even commented saying that we sound amazing.

Birthdays were another reason for us to sing. The moment the birthday boy or girl walked into rehearsals, we would spontaneously burst into a 4-part harmony of “Happy Birthday” which usually made the recipient cry tears of joy or just stare open mouthed. We would also do an impromptu Whatsapp voice recording of whatever song popped into our head and then proceed to harmonize to our heart’s content and then send in on the Whatsapp group. As you can see, we clearly were a musical bunch, mostly jobless and with way too much time on our hands, but musical nonetheless.

Like I said, we were jobless. Musical, yes, but jobless too.

We even managed to organize a Paan party at Cult Studios during one practice. If you don’t know what a Paan party is, it’s basically a bring your own food kinda thing. The key ingredient of course, was Paan or bread. Just picture a group of 20-something year olds, sitting in more or less a circle, eating to their hearts content and just having an absolute ball of a time. The food ranged from parippu, to chicken to pol sambol and even a concoction of brandy infused iced coffee (courtesy of yours truly).

The last two weeks of July were the most exciting, and also the most exhaustive. We were also introduced to the orchestra and our first rehearsal with them was nothing short of mesmerizing. Because we were so used to practicing to Nats playing the piano during rehearsals, hearing the real thing in real life was mind-blowing. It also made us realize that “Holy shit, this is actually happening”. Day by day as we practiced, Anu, Nats and Umeshi would take notes, tighten up any loose ends and drill it into our heads so that everything would be perfect.

Tec week was probably the most magical (apart from the actual show dates themselves) as we could see the actual props and sets that we would be using for the play. From brilliantly crafted trees, to Vishan’s beautiful costumes, everything was falling into place. Before we knew it, we were at opening night. I was excited, scared, nervous and happy at the same time. After our makeup and costumes were done, we gathered in the main rehearsal room and spent a few minutes recollecting and thanking the Lord for the opportunity that he had given to us.

Towards 7.30PM, the hype was building and we were ready to show our talents to the audience. Adding to this was the fact that Opening Night had been completely sold out. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Nonetheless, we kept our cool and performed to the fullest that we could. The result? A standing ovation on opening night. This was it. All our hard work was paying off. In fact, out of the 6 shows that we performed, 5 were completely sold out (the remainder being the matinee performance).

Being on stage made me realize indeed how truly blessed we are and that with a lot of hard work, perseverance, and a little bit of magic, anything is possible. Looking back over the past two months, and given the chance to go through it all over again, I would do so in a heartbeat. It’s amazing how close you become to people who share similar interests and who have so much in common. They say that friends are the family you choose for yourself, well, the people I met because of this production have a special place in my heart and they are my family. In fact, one of them is literally my family because I found out that she’s my cousin.

I am eternally grateful to Nats, Anu and Umeshi for bringing us to where we are and for all their support and advice. As Kumudini David or Kumu sings in her song, “There is music in you”. So I say thank you for the music and if music be the food of life, then by all means, do play on.

A Birthday Wish To The Strongest Woman I Know

Another year, another birthday, another year older. Even though people jokingly wish that you would be wiser than the last year, I for one, believe that to be very true. Compared to last year, you indeed are wiser. Also, in case you’re wondering, this year I’m doing something a little different. No fancy cards with flowery letters. No cheesy lines with balloons and teddy bears. Just me doing what I do best: expressing myself in words.

The last year has been tough, there’s no doubt about it. The year before that, even tougher. The loss of papa left a whole in our family that little can do to fix. Fast forward to this year where Kelly also bid farewell to us and the grief just seems to increase. But, what that has also taught us is how strong we really are. Despite what you’ve been through, when you think that you can’t go on anymore, you somehow find the strength to go on. Whether it be by crying your guts out or just closing up all the pain, the strength you have to go through all that life throws at you is an example that I try very hard to follow.

I thought long and hard about what to get you on your birthday and I realized that you already have everything you could need. You even have two angels looking down at you wherever you go. One is also waiting at the Rainbow bridge playing with her friends.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, this is my honest birthday wish to you. Please continue to be the strong woman you are. No matter what life throws your way, always face it headfirst and don’t look back. There will be times when you want to give up and throw down the towel, but as Dylan Thomas, a Welsh Poet says,

“Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

This, thus far has been one of my most favorite pieces of literature to date. Its meaning is simple. Even when faced with the harshest of realties, do not go down without a fight.

Happy Birthday to you, the strongest woman that I have ever known in my life. May God, in his infinite goodness and kindness grant you his choicest blessings, and give you the strength that you require to be the pillar of strength you are to me.

The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you.
The Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.

The Last Battle

Having a pet is no walk in the park. Although it certainly does involve a walk in the park, perhaps multiple.

So was it my life when Kelly entered our lives. A small timid puppy who bunched up near the front door and refused to move from there for a good day. I initially thought that she was sick and/or dying which wasn’t something I was ready to accept. Fast forward two days where I was alone in the house and I suddenly heard this puppylike howl of despair. It took me a while to realize that it was actually the puppy howling. On one hand, I was relieved (she wasn’t sick). On the other, I was terrierfied on why she was howling (see what I did there?).

A week down the line the puppy (henceforth christened Kelly V2) proceeded to “make herself at home”, as it were. This included peeing and pooping all over the house, and also munching on two of my earphones, printer cable, three pairs of slippers and countless other things. I didn’t care. (Well, actually I did, but hey, she was still a puppy).

As the days went on, we realized a few things about Kelly V2. She absolutely hates being left along. She hates it more when she’s inside the house alone. Where we usually would leave a dog to protect the house and take care of it when we stepped out, here we had to get someone to stay with the dog for her to protect the house.

Taking her for a walk usually ended up in either ammi ior I being walked by Kelly. For such a small sized dog, she had an amazing amount of strength, especially in her tail which would wag at the slightest inkling of her name or when we walked past her and she was asleep. The standing joke was that if we could harness the energy that she put into wagging her tail, we could probably power up all the appliances in our house with it.

In addition to an ever wagging tail, she also had a big heart and a bigger appetite to go along with it. She loves to eat anything and everything that we ate. This included murukku, biscuits, even the karapincha leaves that you found in said murukku packets. She had a special love towards my dinner and i’ve lost count of the times that I’d given her a portion of my food to her (despite being scolded by my mum and grandmother). She also loved to drink Horlicks and plain tea, sometimes right out of the cup or poured into a saucer. We were amused by her antics, which possibly made us (especially me) love her more.

Loving a pet. Strange thing ain’t it? You take the dog in for the sole purpose of it being a guardian of your house. You promise yourself that you won’t get too attached to him/her when you know that deep down, you’re only lying to yourself. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t;t love your pet. Rather, by all means shower him or her with all the love and attention you can possibly give, in order to make their life on earth a memorable one.

Kelly is now 8 human years old. Roughly calculated, that’s 54 in dog years. Despite the number suggesting that she was an old lady, she was anything but that. At 8 years, she would still run around the garden, bite us and get us to chase her, and also chase her tail (yes she still did that).

It is for these exact reasons, that I hate to see her leave us.

Kelly was initially diagnosed with an ear infection and one thing led to another and her system grew too weak to combat the disease. Even as  I type this out, memories of her sleeping on my bed, licking my nose in the morning and jumping on me flood my mind and one if not several tears are brought to my eyes.

It seems unfair that after all this, this is the way it ends. She had so much more to give us. We were not ready for her to leave us. Why does it have to happen to us? These are all questions that we ask ourselves in order to find solace in our loss.

Perhaps that’s all there is to it. Pets, be it a dog, cat, parrot, goat, cow, tiger,anything for that matter, come into our lives to teach us that loving them is what makes us human. We care for them so much that when we lose them, we feel as though we would bleed to death with the pain of it. There’s no need to hide our sadness. Rather, we should feel happy. As Dr. Seuss says, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”.

Don’t cry because your beloved pet is no longer with you. Rather, cherish all the good times and even the bad times you had with them. Smile because you took an innocent being into your household, nourished it, treated it like your own child, and then when his/her time was up, you helped him/her get to the other side. Smile because that’s what Kelly would have wanted me to do. Smile because it happened.

I also found this poem on Pinterest and Tumblr that sums up the loss of a pet. It does speak volumes.

If it should be that I grow weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then you must do what must be done,
For this last battle cannot be won.

You will be sad, I understand;
Don’t let your grief then stay your hand.
For this day more than all the rest,
Your love for me must stand the test.
We’ve had so many happy years –

What is to come can hold no fears.
You’d not want me to suffer so;
The time has come, so let me go.
Take me where my needs they’ll tend
And please stay with me until the end.

Hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time that you will see
The kindness that you did for me.

Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I’ve been saved.
Please do not grieve – it must be you
Who had this painful thing to do.
We’ve been so close, we two, these years –
Don’t let your heart hold back its tears.

 

 

School Life

School life; just the utterance of those two words brings back a flood of memories doesn’t it? The struggle was indeed real. You had to wake up early morning, get dressed, and stuff down your breakfast in an attempt to race against the van driver who would stop outside your gate and honk and honk whilst you tried not to choke on your food and block the yells of your mom “Go go men. What are you doing? The van is here”. Once you get into the van (all embarrassed because you caused the entire van to get late), you had to deal with all the teasing of you getting late and numerous other things.

For me, saying my school life was awesome would be an absolute downright lie. My 14 years of school life was a dread. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to survive. Even the flashes of school life I have are either me getting in a corner or just walking away.

For me, the day of dread began in the school van. True enough the driver was a really nice, polite gentleman. He was a very good friend of my uncle and thus shared similar traits such as a good sense of humor and an overall jovial atmosphere. I had two, maximum three people I associate with in the van. I called them friends and they were pretty much the only people I would interact with. They took the last row of seats in the van whilst I made myself comfortable in the jump seat in the row before the last. We would talk about random stuff. He was a fan of Charmed and later Harry Potter so we would quiz each other about Harry Potter till the time came for either of us to get off the van upon reaching our home.

The days that I had no one to talk to in the van were dull, gloomy days where I would lock myself up in a cocoon of my own thoughts and let my imagination run wild picturing unrealistic van chases, possible alien abductions and even the sea waves rushing ashore to drown all of us. Yes, from that age I wondered what it would be like to die. This was countered by the thought that my parents and family would miss me if they survive or vice versa. This again was countered with the thought that they would all die at the same time, thus no one would miss me and I would miss no one. In my mind, that worked out and I was happy about it.

Reaching the school gates obviously meant the end of my imagining spree and I would be brought back down to earth with a rather uncomfortable thump. I would say that I liked all my school teachers, but I didn’t, and i’m pretty sure they felt the same way about me as well.

They say that you can never truly hate people, but I did. My grade One teacher ridiculed me in front of the entire class during a parents meeting and told my mum straight to her face that I would’t pass my O/L exam because I couldn’t speak sinhalese and that I would be a failure in my life. To this day, the hatred I have towards her has never dulled. It so continued from Grade 2 to 3.

In all honesty, the only two teachers I liked and admired were my grade 4 and 5 teacher and sir (respectively) who were wife and husband. They taught me well and I learnt a great deal from them.

Most of the friends I would consider friends either kept going to other school, going abroad or simply getting switched to another class. The first day of each grade pretty much had me scouring the name list to see which class in the grade I would be and if I knew anyone in the class. When I say “know” I mean that I could associate with them and vice versa rather than me being alone, which invariably was the case. From grade 6 onwards I made a couple of friends and we used to hang out together, chill at each other houses, watch movies, get invited for spend-the-days (which were a rage back then) and so on and so forth. That was pretty much the only time I was happy in school.

I will not deny that I was bad in my studies, my only saving grace being that I had a good knowledge of English, in so far as that I won the 3^rd place for English in grade 8, the grade prize (which is the highest for the grade) for English in grade 9 and continued to win prizes for grade 10 and 11. I also joined the choir. My family is musical and singing is at our core, so it seemed almost natural for me to join the choir. It was there that I made new friends, some that I still keep in touch with, and some who I have no clue have gone. Either way, they were good, we shared similar interests and 16 years later, I find out that my best friend was actually my uncle, but hey that’s another story. Guess life is weird that way.

The ascent to pre O/L (grade 9 and 10) were possibly the worst of my life. I remember dreading each day of those years where all I wanted to do was just run away and hide. But I somehow pulled on through, call it courage, call it dealing with shit, call it what you want, I made up my mind that I would go for class. Believe me it was no easy task. I was the target of a few bullies and I hated them with every breath I took. Let’s just say that if I saw them on the road, I would run them over, and then back up onto them just to be sure. Whilst everyone had their cliques and “gangsiya” in the class, I was pretty much the loner and therefore was devoid of a place to sit. I recall having to hunt for a desk and a chair around 3/5 school days, and trust me that’s no fun. The teacher mock you and even scold you for disrupting the class. The worst was when you DID find a desk and chair, either the chair would be broken halfway, or the desk would have a leg missing or leg loose so if you’re not careful enough, the entire thing falls, year trust me, that shit is no fun. By the time I got to Grade 11, I was all but done with all this shit. My lameass attempt at being rebellious would be to not do my homework which in turn resulted in me being out of the class. I distinctly remember walking out of class and just staying out during the Commerce period. For one I despised the lecturer, secondly the subject, thirdly, homework as a whole. When my O/L results were released I was 110% sure that I would have failed in Commerce, but the powers that be decided that I would pass with a simple pass, I didn’t complain. After all, seeing the joy on your mothers face after learning that you passed O/Ls at the first attempt is indeed a happy thing.

Post O/L was the great debate. To do A/Ls or not to do A/Ls? That was indeed the question. Much to my dismay, I was told that I would be doing London A/Ls, my only comfort being that I could offer IT as a subject which at the time was not a subject for local A/Ls. Needless to say, that was my favorite subject and I remember eagerly awaiting Saturdays to attend the class. The lecturer was good and he loved his work. I learnt a great deal from him, especially with regard to coding and developing websites. I recall using the transactional database that I developed back then to implement another system for something else I was doing, and it worked perfectly.

The rest of the subjects were not so hunky dory. I gave up Accounts as I was doing the required three subjects. That left me with two more, Business studies and Economics. Blah, blah, blah. That’s pretty much what I thought of them both. So what if the retirement age in the UK was raised to65? Who gives a flying fish about what IKEA did to increase their demand and supply for furniture? I mean WHO. GIVES. A.DUCK?  *insert crude swear word that rhymes with duck there*.

I knew in my heart that this was not the life I wanted to lead, but I was caught in a trap. This shit was expensive. You can’t just drop out because you don’t feel like it. So I did what I had been doing for 12 years of my school life. I gritted my teeth, and went for the exam.

15 minutes into the paper and before the term “Netflix and Chill” was created, yes I was chilling. The AC at Sugathadasa was so cold that people would just stop writing because they couldn’t grip their pens anymore. I for one had made up my mind that I was well and truly screwed. So in doing what anyone of death row would do, I stared my paper in the face, and gave it my best shot. The result, well I passed in IT, I just failed the other two. Somehow the term flabbergasted doesn’t quite suit the mood I was in; unless you can combine being flabbergasted, being suicidal and just being screwed up as you can be. On the other hand, I was happy. I would not repeat that paper, never in a million years. Did I want to relive another year of my life learning shit that I really didn’t give a rat’s ass about? HELL. FUCKING. NO.

And with that, it was over. Yes there were the teary good byes and the promises that we would meet up and talk about the “good” old times (God knows if there were any). Promises turned to numbers in a contact list which then faded away because you “lost your phone” or “changed SIM cards”, whatever floated your boat man. All I knew was, I was done.

So yeah, that’s pretty much my school life in a nutshell. Nothing glamorous or bad-ass about it. Just a lonely guy trying to make his place in the world.

*2 ½ years later, I hold a First Class Honors Degree in Computer Science and Information Systems from the University of Middlesex UK, I was the 2^nd highest GPA in my entire batch. That two and a half years, was more fun and educating for me than the 14 years I spent in school. Perhaps you DO learn more about the world when you’re out of school than when you’re in it. All I learnt is, I don’t miss my school life.

So, What’s your story?

 

My Mask that always smiled

I was once sad and lonely,
Having nobody to comfort me,
So I wore a mask that always smiled;
To hide my feelings behind a lie.

Before long, I had many friends;
With my mask, I was one of them.
But deep inside, I still felt empty,
Like I was missing a part of me.

Nobody could hear my cries at night
For I designed my mask to hide the lies.
Nobody could see the pain I was feeling
For I designed my mask to be laughing.

Behind all the smiles were the tears
And behind all the comfort were the fears.
Everything you think you see,
Wasn’t everything there was to me.

Day by day,
I was slowly dying.
I couldn’t go on,
There was something missing..

Until now I’m still searching
For the thing that’ll stop my crying.
For someone who’ll erase my fears,
For the person who’ll wipe my tears.

But till then I’ll keep on smiling.
Hiding behind this mask I’m wearing.
Hoping one day I can smile,
Till then, I’ll be here.. waiting.

-From the Internet-

A Letter to Papa

I find myself once again staring at the screen thinking of how to express the feelings I have right now. My attention shifts to a shadow on the wall and I gaze at it. I immediately feel myself going through a flashback of memories of you.

Hi Papa. I hope you’re OK now. How are things up there? I’m guessing you’re hanging out with all your old friends from the Bank and from school and stuff. I’d be lying if I said that we’re doing ok back here at home. Achcha is keeping herself occupied with random stuff. You know, like watering the garden and sewing unwanted stuff and all that. But it’s hard for her. I know. It’s hard for all of us. You were with us for so long and now you’re gone. It may be just two months but it feels like only yesterday that I came home from work and came into your room to say “Hi” and pet Kelly. Some random cricket match was playing and as usual i had no clue on as to what was going on so I would just sit on the edge of the bed with you and achcha while talking about random stuff that happened and Kelly decides to act all bird mode and jumps on to the bed.

I still sit on the very same edge and watch random matches and stuff on TV, the only difference being that one side of that bed is now empty.

I had a horrible sleeping pattern (I still do actually). I would stay up pretty much the entire night on the PC either writing articles or playing games or doing both. So while on the way to the kitchen, I would pop by your room to see if everything is ok and then go about my work. I still do that in fact (sheer force of habit), but you don’t need anyone to check on you anymore.

Its Ammi’s birthday today and we do our usual waking up at 4AM to make Kiri Bath and go for mass ritual. Along with that is the gift and birthday card smuggling that takes place between achcha and I and you chuckle in amusement at the antics we go through to make sure Ammi has no clue what’s going on.

But things are different now. Before we wish Ammi, we have to go see someone. So we call Najith and tell him to take us to the Nedimala Cemetery. The person we’re coming to see is you. As we huddle teary eyed around your tombstone and light candles and say our prayers, I realize us all that you won’t be with us anymore to celebrate our birthdays. You won’t be there for Ammi’s 50^th birthday next year. Or Maama’s or Mumiya’s  either. The sickness you had was so cruel that it even robbed you of being there for your 50^th wedding anniversary with achcha. We went out for dinner yesterday to China Doll and we had through sheer force of habit ordered a table for 9 whereas it’s only 8. But the plans remained unchanged and I felt as though you were with us in spirit.

I started a new job at Readme at the beginning of October. It’s a pretty cool job. I get to write articles related to tech and interview people. You would have loved it.

We’re starting Chorale practice for the Carol Service in School soon. Maama is planning on doing some of your favourite carols for the service but sadly again you won’t be there to listen to them.

It takes a while to get around to it that you’re not with us anymore. But exactly how long that “while” is, well your guess is as good as mine.

Fate was cruel to take you away from us when it did, and it left a gap in all of us that cannot be healed easily. “Parting is such a sweet sorrow” writes Shakespeare and despite its rather oxymoronic definition, we are in sorrow that you parted with us. But our sweet joy is that one day we will be reunited again in paradise.

Though you have left the earthly realm I know that when I look up at the sky and I see a bird flying or a rainbow or a cloudless sky, I know you are looking down from paradise and protecting us. After all, what better protector can we ask than you who were a husband, father and grandfather to us all?

Requiescant In Pace Avum

Thoughts running through my mind

It’s 9 o clock on a Tuesday night. I’m doing what i usually do; sit on my very comfortable chair in front of my PC checking Facebook. I click on a YouTube video shared by a friend of a flash mob singing the Hallelujah chorus and as i watch it i recall that a similar event was done in Sri Lanka. Well one thing lead to another and I ended up making a blog for myself.

Life is funny that way isn’t it? You start the day thinking that you’re gonna do one thing, but you probably end up doing something totally completely different to what you originally had in mind. Its not a disease or a attention deficit. Its just that maybe some of us are wired that way. We spend most of our days just buzzing in and out, all over the place. We don’t stop to enjoy the little things in life. Cliche as it is, when i was small, i couldn’t wait to grow up, to have a job, be all “loku minihek” and stuff. But now I sometimes wish i could go back and relive those childish moments. “Those were the best days of my life” Bryan Adams says. Then i think, what if, twenty years from now, I look back at my life and wish that i was here, in THIS moment and time?

Life is uncertain. Here today, gone the next. As cheesy as it sounds, there’s this one line from High School Musical that is always on my mind; “I never knew that it could happen, till it happened to me”. This is the TRUTH! Ain’t nothing that’s truer that this. So many things have happened in my life, good, bad and ugly *cue theme song here*. I look back and think “Holy s**t, this actually happened to me. I actually went through this”.

In all honesty, I’m not at all good with expressing myself, verbally or literally, So much has happened, made new friend, lost old ones, fell in love, fell out of love, vowed never to fall in love again, lost three family members (cat, girlfriend and grandfather, in that exact order).

There have been times where I have wanted to just pack it up and go off somewhere (at least wishfully). To be away from everybody and spend life alone in solitude.

Life is funny isn’t it? You’re angry, alone, confused all at the same time, but then, you talk with a friend and it all goes away. You look at things in a different way.

The other day i was playing Minecraft online with a friend and we were discussing random stuff (which is normal) and the topic of life came up (as usual). I expressed my fears that by trying to conform to social norms, that we may invariably end up blocking off a part of our lives and never access it again. For example, it starts with a good results at an exam, then a job, then salary, then a vehicle, then a house, marriage and kids. While this maybe the ideal life for most people, for me it’s a BIT more than that. Life is a journey meant to be traveled. In our quest to attain all these things (money, vehicles) we forget that life is passing us by day by day. Is there all that is to life?

Well, for a rambling this has gone on for a while. but before I wrap this up, I’ll leave you with a few lince that relate to my life and even yours.

Shit Happens
Things go wrong
People change
Life goes on