Manshark's Random Rants

Moved!!

2007-03-30T10:22:00.000+05:30

I've made the change..from blogger to wordpress..and so far, me likes it much better!! :D

From henceforth, I'll be here.

Isankya Wins the Gratiaen Prize!

2007-03-27T16:21:00.001+05:30

Isankya Kodithuwakku, who used to blog as Turtle a long time ago, has won the Gratiaen award for 2006 for her book of short stories The Banana Tree Crisis. The awards ceremony was held at the Trustee's CEO's quarters in Colombo (I think!). The award for 2006 was given jointly to Isankya and Senaka Abeysinghe (for his play Three Star K). The fact that I am ecstatic about Isankya being given the prize of course is obvious seeing as I was a fan since way before..and I'd say the book truly deserved the prize..but then, I might be accused of being a bit too biased! :(

The book, when it was shortlisted a couple of weeks ago, was described by the judges as "…neither patronising nor self absorbed, unpretentious yet poetic and very simply, compelling and beautiful". The shortlist was Isankya, Senake, Ashok Ferrey (for Good Little Ceylonese Girl), Rita Perera (Coalescing with Omega) and Vihanga Perera. The shortlist announcement is here. Will update this when more articles appear about the prize.

A lot of the people who I talked to at the ceremony kept saying it was obvious from the start it was going to be a winner, including a couple of the judges and Ashok Ferrey.. So perhaps my bias is justified :oD

Anyways, If Isankya's still hanging around the blogosphere and reading this..Congratulations!! and you are a complete idiot for saying/ thinking that you weren't even going to make the shortlist! :op

Child Sex Tourism - WHAT is being done?!?!

2007-03-05T08:04:00.000+05:30

I wrote on the issue of child sex tourism (CST) a while back (CST in Sri Lanka) and was reminded of that again by a comment left there by Brandix a few days ago...which got me thinking. Before I returned to Sri Lanka, I was under the impression that CST had suddenly, at last, become a “problem”. There was some kind of child empowerment ad released, etc to not only empower kids to say no, but also to create more awareness of the issue within society. Yet, since I’ve been back, I find that nothing seems to have changed. People are still, on the whole, unaware of the problem or are happy to look sad to 2 seconds when the topic comes up before moving on to “let’s talk how to resolve the national problem”. A problem that continues to traumatize and destroy whole future generations is not an issue that is national enough?

What bothers me is the fact that I can’t see anything that’s being done – by anybody. I’ve not even seen so much as an ad – to empower or just simply to create awareness/ eliminate its ‘taboo’ tag. WHY IS THAT?? Where is the NCPA? Whose children do they protect? Do people really not care? Have we stopped caring and have started to rationalize so much to the extreme extent that we’re afraid of at least trying to do something today for fear of it not achieving all that we expected tomorrow?

When I talk of CST, even in passing reference, the reactions I’ve seen makes me think people are generally divided into 3 categories on the issue:

1. Those that just don’t care - the kind who think “it’s not my problem”. These types of people are not worth anyone’s time or space so I’ll not waste my blog space on them.

2. Those that care. They say “oh yes, sad thing, no?” and/ or “something must be done about this”, but think they themselves are not capable of “doing anything” and so they don’t. Or they find it sad, etc, but the subject is still kind of too “taboo” to be really talked about. These people are the most important from an activists' perspective simply because they can be used to the advantage of the issue just the way a floating vote is used (exploited?) by a politician. If they are shown/ told how to make a change, if they are made aware that taboo-ing it and sweeping it under the carpet helps no one, there is always hope for change.

3. Those that reason and rationalize, sitting on cushioned arm chairs – literally or metaphorically. Those who belong to this group are generally “high up” types who carry some clout socially or politically, etc. There are two types within this group, those who listen patiently and then (very logically) reason “they are all good ideas, but where’s the money for all this?” The second type who rationalizes “…but I don’t think ‘solution x’ will work” before moving on to ponder ideas which will work such as a military solution/ peace talks to the conflict.These type of people actually have the contacts and experience to at least try to implement mechanisms to make a change...so why don't they?

And for me, being the tiny individual that I am right now, it’s doubly frustrating that not only do I have to put up with such shocking reactions, but there doesn't seem to be anything to get involved in to at least try to make a change..and it makes me feel like I, too, can’t to do anything about this at all..except for ranting about it every once in a while :(

Frozen Tear

I picked an Araliya off the mounds
That lay at my feet scattered around
The soft yellow white violently creased
You turned away scowling, quite displeased
For in that bloom you only saw
Its “fall from grace” to sands below

You don't see the defenselessness
Of crushed petals in that browning mess
You point only to the disapproved
Ignoring lost moments, almost unmoved
By the childish fragrance openly stripped
By the smiling face of a nondescript

You tell me not to overreact
But were not the blooms cruelly hacked?
And while the sun chooses to turn away
Will not the bud forced to flower early today
Be judged tomorrow eons before birth
Like an illegitimate child by the mother’s girth?

You see no debris; but only taboo;
Proffering reason to think things through
You crush the helpless, unaware,
You advise blindness of their despair
If your reasoning is what you don’t feel;
Is my frozen tear, their sole appeal?

Perverted or Repressed or Plain Psycho?

2007-02-26T13:19:00.000+05:30

If you've lived in Sri Lanka long enough, there's a very likely chance that you/ a girl you know has been "eve-teased" - either groped on the bus/ in a crowd, or at the very least have had a few well-chosen words/ remarks aimed at you/ her as you/ she walked past a group of men. (This though is not just in Sri Lanka, but common in the sub-continent.)

Anyway, sometimes you get told by adults to "dress properly" (=conservatively) to avoid such harassment. This has no real grounds though since even older sari-clad women complain of being masturbated on/ rubbed against on the bus. Why is this? Because men here are generally perverts who get a kick out of harrssing women/ girls? Or are men here so repressed that this is their only "outlet" so to speak (no pun intended!)??

Ravana kept asking in this post, are men here really so repressed cos "why are all these men so excited by the tame sight of [the] dancer’s cleavage?" No one really gave a very satisfactory answer to that. And I continue to wonder, these kind of men - are they perverts? Or "the repressed"? Which category does this guy (that I'll tell you about in a sec) slide in to since he wasn't bothering a girl dressed "provocatively"? Was he neither your general pervert or repressed but simply a random psycho?

Last evening, a friend and I went for a play - an adaptation of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet directed by William Scott Richards. It was held at the Hilton Garden - a very nice setting had it not been for the terrible (and cold) winds, the blast of vehicles on the road outside and the at least 10-minute long ringing of the temple bell from the Gangaramaya (I assume?) in the middle of the performance. Nevertheless, the performance was fantastic - I really loved the alternative uses of symbolism, clothes and lighting. Ironically, before I left home, as usual, the dad threw a mini-fit about "it's not safe to go all alone" for which I retorted "it's at a 5-star hotel for God's sake!". He replied, the hotel bit he was fine with, it's the getting there he worried about. He finally drove me there. I collected my ticket at the counter and they asked for my ID to verify that I am indeed the manshark (as the ticket said)..before I proceeded to join my friend who was already sitting inside.

What happened during the performance was shocking - and that is a gross understatement. In the ball scene, the actors broke out in dance to a fast song. The cast was very young and the dancing very “modern” - what you'd find at a club. Within these youngsters, there was a man dancing - extremely vulgar moves, thrusting his pelvis forward, gyrating. He stood out (even if it were not for his disgusting dancing) cos he was in a white t-shirt emblazoned "Oregon" in red and brown pants with brown (very, very shiny) dress shoes - and, without meaning to sound elitist, he just didn't seem to be part of the audience and looked more like a 'helper' - with the equipment, etc). The cast was in jeans, runners and white t-shirts which had quotes from the play written on them, unlike the oregon dude. Anyhow, the dancing over, the play continued. The Oregon dude sat at the edge of a stage (there were 3 positioned at 45 degree angles to each other) very near a 14 /15 year old foreign boy (British, I think) who was sitting in the row in front of me. He then proceeded to slip his arm around the back of the chair, lean in towards the boy and mutter things to him, staring intently at the boy’s face the whole time. He honestly looked scary - his eyes wild, his head bent, chin tucked into his neck, the eyes rolling around "peeking" at other people every few minutes. Perveted or freaky? The boy mostly ignored him, except to swallow hard a couple of times and move his neck forward when the hand touched him . There was a Chinese mother and son (a 3/4 year old) sitting beside me, and at one point, when the mom sat the boy down next to me and went off for a few minutes, the kid promptly jumped up and was running about. When he accidently knocked into this psycho’s knee, he grabbed the boy by the neck of his t-shirt, brought his face close to the boy’s face, his mouth in a kind of leer and for a second I seriously thought he was going to take a bite, I swear. I grabbed the kid's hand and pulled till he landed in the chair next to me again and I whispered "sit here till your mother comes back" as fiercely as I knew how and held on to him till the mother came back. More perverted or freakier?

The play ended half hour or so later, and the last scene was (an alternative addition after the death scene) was once again of the cast dancing to a fast tempo. Psycho dude jumped up and began the gyrating, staring at the British boy, 3 feet away from him. And as the music started tapering off, he walked up to the boy, lifted his Oregon t-shirt, thrust his pelvis in the boy’s face and gyrated, leering. The boy looked terrified till his mother (sitting beside him) punched the psycho in the stomach, to which he leered at her before joining the cast to watch them (the cast) hug each other, etc off stage. The boy's mother was almost in tears. And the worst thing was, no one seemed to have noticed, not even my friend (sitting beside me!) till that last dance. Perhaps cos the play involved the audience quite a bit (they pulled a few front-row-seaters into dance with the cast as well, etc), perhaps they thought this was part of the play? But seriously? And who could that boy complain to? The play director? The cast? The hotel? I honestly had no idea and it was frustrating that it seemed there was nothing to do. The mother turned around, her face red and teary and said "that man was bothering my son all night! Who can I talk to?!?". I asked her to try both the cast and the hotel management. The only thing I did was leave my name and number with her in case they got treated with the usual "but it's your word against his" quip if they did choose to complain, and needed a witness.

And this made me realize that, in reality, maybe not even 5-star hotels are actually safe since this psycho made it in. And I wondered, was this a stalker/ hotel employee who'd had that boy in his sights for some reason (far-fetched but possible)? Although if that was the case, wouldn't the mom/ boy have "known" him at least by sight? And why did they not complain in the middle of the play? I suspect they didn't want to make a scene and figured if they ignored him long enough, he'd go away.

Or was this a random pervert who made it in with a valid ticket, or otherwise? Was this “a repressed” whose only outlet for his gay tendencies (but perverted anyway since normal gay guys don't gyrate at random people) was to show up here? Or a random paedophile? What was going on and more importantly, what could that boy have done? Hit him? Have complained in the middle of the play? If so, then to whom since there weren't any hotel employees around and it seemed there were only the cast (who did the lighting and the moving of equipment themselves) and the audience? Or ignored him (as was done till the last scene) and endured the groping and muttering? My own behaviour disgusted me then and continues to disgust me now since all I did was to observe this whole fiasco and only get angrier and scared-er and ended up only offering to be "a witness" for them, before choosing to walk away. Couldn't I have done more? Complained myself (after or in the middle of the play)?

I guess these will only be abstract questions now that it's all over and done with. But I must say, selfishly I guess, next time I go out - no matter where - I'll take my dad's advice and have a safety net. Perhaps lots of friends around in case there are more of these perverts/ repressed/ psychos around and next time, the crime goes further and the victim turns out to be me.

Update

Apparently this psycho is a part of neither the crew nor the cast of the play as assured by Benvoleo ( a member of the cast) who had left a comment here and also by another cast member which Sach very kindly shared with me thru e-mail.

Living for the moment

2007-02-14T09:43:00.000+05:30

We always look for an end, a goal, a conclusion that sometimes the means to that end is forgotten, and perhaps left unenjoyed. But what if there was no end? Would we enjoy the traveling more? Would we still be as enthusiastic about every step, every skip, every tumble?

Sometimes when we meet someone, we look, even unconsciously, for a conclusion. A conclusion in the form of a good business deal, a special favour, a perfect friendship, the soulmate. When we meet people, or are catapulted in to situations, then that initially imagined goal becomes a series of stepping stones – profit, happy relationships, growing old together while the gold bands on each other’s fingers slowly grow dull with time. But if that end could not be, does it make the path any more rugged? Does it make the traveling any less sweeter? Isn’t it by looking for that almost ready-made conclusion that the sweet is embittered? When the conclusion is not as glossy as it seemed in the catalogue in which we’d imagined it?

What if we were a spider web - the middle enclosure, where we stand, and the strands, the arms we unravel outwards to the world? For all those bugs and beetles scurrying along the wall, those strands lead in to an interesting, unknown centre..along strands some might slide along with gleeful weee!s while others may find them sticky and cumbersome, and exhale their final breath never really having reached the centre.

Yet to us, those who stand in the middle of that web, the strands don’t necessarily lead anywhere. Could it not be that they lead nowhere, but only exist to balance that inner circle more firmly? Then is it realistic to expect each strand to leave us with explosions of realization which, even for a moment, reach grand unexplored epiphanies? But if that explosion, that epiphany was not actively searched out but left to surprise us if be, would we be as happy? For isn’t happiness found in our minds, in our hearts, only when we imagine that explosion and see the beauty of rainbow sparks? Isn’t it the fact that those sparks never exist outside the realm of our minds that leaves us disappointed with people and situations we might have otherwise found perfectly acceptable?

And so if that final goal which we found in the catalogue of our imagination was not looked for, would we not pay closer attention to the strand stretching outward? Appreciate the gentle diamond glisten of dew drops that balance minutely defying gravity? Realize, before it’s too late, the dust which had begun to accumulate along that fine thread till it was a heavy rope which we lugged around unknowingly or complainingly, had silently snapped long ago?

They say that life is a dew drop balanced on the edge of a grass blade. We’ve all lost someone, by distance, by death, by a sudden cool breeze, in the blink of an eye to know that this goes undoubted. One wayward breeze, one careless footstep and that drop of heavenly water ceases to live.

Then in that infinitesimal moment, between balancing on the tip of the blade of grass and being greedily drunk in by the thirsting earth, should we not endeavour to enjoy every diamond, no matter how small, that lies perched on the strands we unravel outward rather than crane our necks, bending over backwards, in the hope of an end that might very well have ultimately been only imagined or presumed?

URGENT pet rescue needed..PLZ, plz help!!

2007-02-12T15:48:00.000+05:30

A kitten is stuck inside a 10 foot PVC pipe. It's a vertical pipe that has a deadend and runs through a cement wall, hence can't be got at from the bottom opening. We've already tried letting down a length of cloth hoping it'll clutch at it and climb up or at least get a grip on it so we cna pull it up. So far, no luck..I think it's too young to know what to do!! :(

If anyone knows anyone who does pet rescue stuff who can help..or has any advice about how to get this little guy out..plz leave a comment on this with a contact number..or e-mail me at manshark@gmail.com and leave a msg.

It's urgent since the kitten would very likely die if left over night :'( PLZ help!!

Update (at 8.30pm)

Thanks to the heaps of people who e-mailed and the couple who left comments here with advise..esp the Anon who had some very ingenious rescue ideas! :oD

Kitten was rescued and is safe, sound, traumatised and asleep. Went through Al Juhara's blog archives searching for pet rescue team info..and finally this page led me to this Padma lady who very nicely put me in touch with another lady who called the pet rescue dudes..they showed up in 15 minutes - two dudes: one a creative rescue man and the other a vet surgeon (for care after rescue) and in less than 20 mins the kitten was out! Very, very impressive!! :o)

If anyone needs pet rescuing, shall post their info below for future reference!

PetVet Clinic and Emergency

2599799/ 2599800 and Emergency no.: 0777738838

Clinic at: 421/5 Malalasekera Mw (aka Longden Place, I think), Col 07.

Scary checkpoint - why?!?

2007-02-07T15:28:00.000+05:30

We’ve been told check points exist for our own safety and I’ve so far accepted that without a second thought. When my car was stopped in the past, they asked for my ID and then I was sent on my way. I don’t know if this has changed because the other day the process was longer and, moreover, scary.

I was on the way home along Galle Road and a bit past Barefoot I was stopped at a checkpoint. I was asked to park the car and walk up to the sheltered box-like structure under which an army guy and 2 police officers stood. I handed over my ID and was asked for the license as well. One police officer came out of the boxlike structure and stood closely beside me while the other officer proceeded to write down my name, address and what not in some sort of ledger. The officer beside me studied the license closely commenting on the license photo as compared to how I look now. After this thorough examination of the ID and license I was asked to sign beside my name in that ledger.

I thought it was quite strange that we’re now asked to sign ledgers and thereby have to get out of the vehicle. My dad said, sometimes they search the car (including under the driver’s seat) and hence asks the driver to get out…but in my case, the car was glanced at once (to write down the license plate number) and that was it.

The issue I have is the fact that I, a girl (a very tiny one at that), needed to leave the relative safety of my car to walk to a box like structure manned by 3 men. Unfortunately, when you've been forced to see the ugly animal-istic side of the male species, even a man who stands too close to me in the supermarket queue quite honestly makes me call upon all my will power to stay standing while every cell in my brain screams to run fast in the other direction. Therefore, that day at that checkpoint, I was so scared, when I signed that ledger I couldn’t remember for the life of me what my signature looked like and ended up printing my name in a very child-like scrawl. And on the way home as soon as the checkpoint disappeared from my rear-view mirror, I needed to pull up and calm myself down.

While I admit my own reaction at the time may have not been normal altogether, isn’t there still something inherently unsafe about one girl having to approach three men standing in a alcove-like place? The idea is that they are there for my security, for my safety, but at the end of the day, while they are members of security forces, they are also men. And they are people almost twice my size. And I, unfortunately, cannot live in a bubble-like make believe world where people ideally never hurt each other. They do. People known to you, that you trust for whatever whacky reasons, can turn around and in one second leave the rest of your life nightmare-riddled. And that day, I felt extremely vulnerable standing before these three men while they looked me up and down and studied my ID.

Maybe I don't know enough about security matters and counter-terrorism measures, but is there really no better way to provide us with security without heightening our sense of personal insecurity?

The Mating Ritual of "Clubbing"

2007-01-26T07:07:00.000+05:30

We all know that animals have various forms of mating rituals which are unquestioningly accepted by us “higher animals”. And we also know that us higher animals also have various forms of mating rituals which come in a variety of labels. But this was something I “knew” but didn’t really think about. Till I went clubbing a few weekends ago and “observed” the crowd.

The Onyx experience, being a girls’ night out, started off well enough with a round of Margaritas. It was way too crowded to dance and the girls refused to dance seeing as we'd likely get crushed to death in there. And so while we hung about waiting for the crowd to thin a bit I “observed” a lot. Then a couple of weeks later, at H2O, the boyf was meeting a bunch of friends he was seeing in ages and hence wanted to sit, drink and “talk” (meaning shout at each other) and so I was once again on the couch “observing” (and seriously contemplating trading in the boyf for a younger model who actually liked dancing to “talking”..grrr!). Since this was the first time I’d got a chance to watch the crowd rather than being a part of it, thought I should make some good use of it.

There were bunches of girls/ guys dancing and, more often than not, a few from these groups would glance a few times at a member of the opposite sex who was dancing nearby/ standing at the bar/ getting drunk with friends. And when this glancing succeeded in catching the target’s eye, the former would look away fast, but the grinding seemed to be done with much more enthusiasm than before. Then the glancing, trying to catch his/ her eye would resume till at some point, one approached the other (here, for some reason, it was mostly the girls doing the grinding,and guys the approaching). From then on, I can’t say what happened because my attention would move to another similar ritual happening nearby.

What struck me was that so many people seemed to be “meeting” others for the first time and seemingly “hitting it off” although anything that one communicated to the other had to be purely physical since the blare of various rhythms assured that no two people in there could “talk” to each other. And this is what got me thinking. Mostly because I suddenly made the connection between the couple grinding on the floor and single people I know who go clubbing hoping to meet the right girl/ guy.

Some people seemed to go clubbing not just to dance and have fun, as I had thought at first, but also to either pick up or be picked up (not just for the night, I mean) and come away disappointed when neither happens for some reason or full of hope when “something happened”. Since I've bene back, I've met so many single people who go out hoping to “meet the one”…and I suspect this is also why “just a dance”, a fling, a one-night stand will never do for them...for their goal is only for a longer dance, one that lasts a lifetime, it seems. Then is this not a mating ritual of a kind?

And it seems the difference between a person who takes part in this ritual and a person who does not is in the purpose/ intention of going clubbing – those who go out to have good night dancing with friends (old and new) and those who go to pick up/ be picked up with long-term hopes.

In these “modern” times, clubs open up, hire a DJ and dole out alcohol and whatever substances they can get away with making money off. And the music, the substances, seem to help move along this ritual.

For some reason, realizing this made me sad at first. But now that I’ve thought about it, there isn’t anything sad about it at all. It’s just another way I suppose of “meeting someone”…albeit having to have your first conversation shouting at each other…but then again, perhaps this sets the tone for the (hoped for) marriage. There doesn’t seem to be any rational reason for being sad about this for if any of these “matings” that happen on numerous dance floors in numerous clubs go the mile, then is it not indeed a perfectly natural ritual?

Why it seemed sad at first I think is perhaps because it reminded me so much of the peacock and its desperate, lonely dance when it would stand alone amidst dry, brown foliage, nose in the air, yet with tail feathers fanned out behind in all their glory. Proud, magnificent, yet desperately hoping someone would notice, stop by to say hello and dance the peacock dance with him.

Grief

2007-01-23T07:03:00.000+05:30

I watched a movie recently of which I didn’t think too much…maybe because the entire plot was pretty obvious within the first 2 minutes of the movie and the rest had to be spent suppressing yawns. However, one short scene got me thinking..

Grief

A widow dances.
The empty arms of his shirt
Wrapped about her
As rains wash away the hurt
She dances; smiling,
His old warmth all-embracing

Most of us have been touched by grief, in one way or another. I always wondered how people can say ‘X’s grief is worse/less than Y’s’ and not know that they lie. One’s grief is not relative for one’s pain is not relative. One hurts as deeply as another – not more, not less.

When pain hits you, and darkness starts closing in, the only way back to light is to dance. In the rain where you don’t know if you’re crying, in an embrace that feels as warm today as it had yesterday. But that light is not real; it only tries to relieve the darkness a little. It comes fast, like a lightening streak out of a stormless sky, for it lights up the darkness and then is gone, leaving us gasping, groping, knowing we need to find a longer, stronger light.

That longer light comes with the realization that the arms are now empty, the warmth has left and the rains that came with duty, with friends, has now ceased for it cannot rain forever. Rain only patters about softly for a little while before you must be left alone to find the sunshine again. This light comes like the sun over the horizon – softly and so, so slowly you wonder if it’ll ever rise, if it’ll ever take over the sky.

And then, when the light has risen, the blue sky seems yellow hued again. Yet, a lined hand, a warm touch, the tilt of a head, a scent from childhood in the breeze, a familiar chant…and the darkness beckons once more. And the temptation to give in is strong, to curl up in the darkness, to wait for those around you to forget you were ever there.

Yet we refuse to give in. Is it because we’re afraid of being judged by the rains that will surely surge around us if we were to give up and give in? Or are we afraid of losing our way, of forgetting the path, we’d struggled so hard to find?

Galle Literary Festival – the good, the bad, the ugly

2007-01-17T07:20:00.000+05:30

I can't give an account of the entire festival for the simple reason that I was not there on all 4.5 days. I spent the entire day at the festival on Friday the 12th of Jan because I was forced to choose one day as there was no accommodation left that was within my budget.

I’ve spent quite a few days wondering how to write this post without sounding peremptory or too negative for it was a mixed experience for me due to various aspects of the discussions that took place and the festival itself. So my personal feelings on Friday the 12th of Jan:

The day started with a discussion on Jane Austen by Yasmine Gooneratne and Marie “Another Lady”. While the discussion was pretty good, I didn’t find it to be particularly stimulating. But then again, I’d woken up at 5am (a definite shock to my late-sleeping self) and driven 3 hours to Galle to arrive 5 minutes before the discussion got underway and so I might have not been in a particularly good mind-frame. On the other hand, it was said during the discussion that the era and the life style depicted in Austen’s work is relevant to us today because that’s where Sri Lanka society is at the moment. However, there are much more relevant aspects that were ignored. For example, Sri Lankan (maybe even canonical) writers such as Thotamunai Sri Rahula Himiyan, Martin Wickremesinghe and Ediriweera Sarachchandra were wholly ignored by the festival. The first wrote in Sinhala true enough, but the Salalihini Sandeshaya was translated to English a couple of years ago and I’d loved to have heard a discussion on how much was gained/ lost in translation. Ditto for Wickremesinghe. And Sarachchandra’s Curfew and Full Moon I thought was beautifully written for that time and also loved the characterizations he created in With the Begging Bowl. And I for one would have loved to hear a commentator/ writer talk of his work rather than a dissection of Jane Austen’s work!! But then again, maybe that’s just me.

Next, “Language and Writing Life” was discussed by Carl Muller and Elmo Jayawardene. Muller, of course, was in a rollicking rant mood (or was being himself, I guess) and really made me wish I’d brought along a tape recorder – he talked of everything – his life, his books, the Gratiaen award, Sri Lankan publisher and anything else that caught his fancy along the way and was hilarious! A few snippets that stuck were he (very rightly, I think) advocated that the Gratiaen award should be judged by an international panel instead of “writers who first published in one year being a member of the panel of judges the next year” and even worse the judges being part of the same clique that some writers (who submitted their books for the award) hung out with, which made one question the neutrality of the judges. He also questioned the logic of not awarding the award posthumously (since the award was in recognition of good writing and not on being alive or not). He asked (would-be writers) why they would want to submit their manuscript for the award because then the book (once published) would sell on account of winning the award rather than solely on it own. All good ~~arguments~~ rants though I wouldn't particularly agree with everything!

Secondly, he ranted on about Sri Lankan publishers (citing Vijitha Yapa and Godage in particular) who now asked that the writer pay for the publishing of the books because this apparently streamlined the actual publishing of the book. This then means that the publisher has today turned into a mere printer. Any “writer” who can afford to pay to print a few thousand copies of his book would be accepted. Therefore the absence of the risk factor for the publisher meant bucket loads of shit ended up on bookshelves to deceive readers. I must say I quite agree with that conclusion after having come across so many really bad books. However, he failed to also say that these same publishers also publish the old-fashioned way where they do take a risk and publish a first time writer because they think the writer is good enough. Therefore, I guess it’s not a general premise.

Muller also mentioned (on an aside of course) that the current President, despite an “impressive chinthanaya” has so far brilliantly managed to do nothing well at all excepting appearing on all forms of media daily. He said he came across a dude who (newly) made strawberry jam, up in the hills of Nuwara Eliya, and proudly stuck a label claiming “home made strawberry jam”. Muller had thought he should stay with the times (and sell more) and so had advised him to instead proclaim on the label “strawberry chintanaya”! :oD

Elmo Jayawardene was not too bad, but was sorely (and quite cheerfully on his part I must admit) overshadowed by Muller. I finished reading Sam’s Story last week and was left with the feeling that it was a bit slapdash and bits struck a false note at time. Frankly I didn’t think it deserved the Gratiaen Prize (2001) and would have done better to have had a good editor go through it a few times. However, I think perhaps Jayewardene somewhat agrees with this for he explained the reason behind writing this story: he’d taken 5 years in writing a novel, The Last Kingdom of Sinhalay (State Literary award 2005) and it turned out to be almost a 1000 pages which, he felt, was way too many for a first time writer. Therefore he set out to write a small simple story first and once it and his name caught on, release the longer novel. Hence, the rushed and false bits I suppose. I’ll have to go read the longer novel, which won the 2005 State Literary award, before I can say if that’s much better!

In “Outside Inside - Sri Lankan Literature & Beyond”, Nuri Vittachi was meant to explore Sri Lankan literature in the outside world. He somehow didn’t quite make it except for reeling off a few statistics about why being an “Asian” writer is good these days seeing as the world was craving writing by “Asian” writers. However, he, being true to his stand-up comedy self, was very entertaining in his anecdotes of being a Sri Lankan abroad and although it never got to the exact point or made much reference to literature as was meant, I loved it just because it was hilarious! :oD

The “First Word: Breaking the Ice” was a discussion with first time writers who made it big in Sri Lanka – Ashok Ferry, David Blacker and Manuka Wijesinghe. The discussion was moderated by Ameena Hussein who said she wanted to get a smooth discussion going between the three, but didn’t really succeed. Therefore it turned out to be a Q & A of the writers, and it wasn’t too bad altogether. David Blacker talked of how he stumbled into writing unexpectedly when he thought he’ll “give it a go and see” and Ferry talked of how he would never give up his day job (designing houses?) even if his writing paid well enough someday. Again, I felt both Blacker and Ferry were somewhat overshadowed by Manuka who stole the show with a discussion on the discipline that was required of her to research and write the book (which took 5 years) and ended laughingly throwing “you can’t keep a good woman down I guess” at the audience and also got a round of applause for saying “we have to take care of this country”, in whatever way, because after all, “what else do we have to call our own but this land?” At the final stages, Blacker was asked why he joined the Army. He said there were many reasons of which one was to see what it would be like to see what the violence was like (or something along this strain) and a gentleman behind me exclaimed (quite loudly and I’m sure with a sniff!) “that’s not a good reason!!”. While I agree that it wasn’t a good reason, it was another’s decision and I guess kudos to Blacker for his honesty!

Something that came as a huge shock to me in this panel was the answer to one question Hussein chose to ask. The question was put to all three writers – if you were stranded on a deserted island, what 3 books would you want to have with you? Seeing as this was a literary festival and there were three writers from whom to ask the question, a more normal question might have been “what 3 authors/ books do you think influenced/ guided/ inspired you or you hold right up there”, but then again I guess it wouldn’t have made much of a difference because all three writers gave the same answer “NOTHING comes to mind right now”. Had I not been sitting down, I’d have surely fainted I think. Is there not one single book that they’ve read that comes to mind?? Not one?? Not even something non-fiction? The only conclusion I can come to is that perhaps they’re not big readers, which I guess is perfectly fair and it was my bad to have generally assumed most writers read vociferously! Blacker, however, got smart a few minutes later and quipped he’d choose 3 books he’d never read – no matter what they were.

Finally, in the best event for the day, in “Telling the Tale: Fact or Fiction” Kiran Desai, Romesh Gunasekera and Suketu Mehta talked of the existence of a line between fact and fiction. Mehta had a lot to say on the two genres while Desai held that fact gave way (and formed a base) for fiction and therefore to an extent fiction was a blurring of fact. Gunasekera didn’t quite agree with Desai and said that in the few times he’d based his fiction on fact, he’d ended up taking out and substituting so much detail that the “facts” didn’t exist at all in the final product.

Desai also went on to talk of how hard the 8 years it took to write the novel. She quite honestly claimed that the novel was “a mess” and consisted of only bits of prose and writing that made no sense when taken together, but finally the need for a final product had made her sit down and put everything together to form a coherent story. At the time I found this claim amazing since I didn’t think that was possible. Since then, I’ve been reading the novel, The Inheritance of Loss, and it (so far) follows so smoothly that the amazement has grown ten-fold! This was the best event of the day not only because the writers didn't quite agree with each other but managed to make so much sense, but more so because the discussion was taken over so completely by the three writers and flowed so smoothly that the moderator didn’t get a chance to utter a word! I absolutely LOVED it!! :o)

One thing I didn’t really like that stood out like a sore thumb (at least for me) was the almost non-interaction of the attendees with each other. In other festivals I’ve been to (outside Sri Lanka though), the people who attend talk freely with perfect strangers because they were brought together by a common passion. Here, there was a tight circle of “writers, publishers and other such important people” who talked with people who approached them, rather than mingling or venturing out too much to talk to others themselves. However, I've been told that this was not so on the weekend and there was quite a bit of mingling and fun..Secondly, the “international school kids” hung out together too in a tight clique, but I think this might also have had something to do with their age judging from the questions that were put to the writers by them during the discussions!

However, that is not to say everyone there was cliquey (or shy) because I met a few people who were quite happy to talk randomly and turned out to be pretty well-read – the sad thing was that the majority of such people were non-Sri Lankan. There were, however, a few people from Colombo Uni and a few who studied outside Sri Lanka (holidaying in Sri Lanka) who were quite open and comfortable talking to absolute strangers about what was said at the discussions and most seemed to know what they were talking about so not all was lost!

Two things that disturbed me about this festival was firstly, the (extreme, irrational) reactions of idiots who pretended to know better and wiser. For example, the Mawbima newspaper carried an article on Sunday the 14th (page 38), the essence of which was the fact that the festival, being a celebration of English Sri Lankan writing, was a useless exercise and everyone involved need be ashamed. The article failed completely in giving any reasonable reason for its rant except (in one line) that some canonical Sri Lankan authors were ignored by the festival (as I pointed out above). If one were to read between the lines, the article simply says Sri Lankan English literature is not a valid form of literature simply because it’s not Sinhala literature (which can be understood by the majority) and all who subscribe to such literature are worthless and exploitative. The huge double standard within this view however is that it claims it’s unfortunate that among these worthless, exploitative beings who were a part of this festival, there was also (to paraphrase the writer) Booker Prize winner Kiran Desai, internationally famous photographer Dominic Sansoni and popular English writer Romesh Gunasekera. Therefore it seems these three are far above the rest. If the writer had stopped to think for two seconds he’d have realized that Kiran Desai is an Indian who writes in English and Gunasekera a Sri Lankan who writes in English. The only difference I see between these three and some of the other writers present at the festival is that they’ve won international prizes. Therefore if one were to win an international prize, then it really does not matter if they “unpatriotically” chose to write in English? Then isn’t the writer’s argument defeated by the simple fact that “international” standards (measured usually by “exploitative foreigners”) are the acceptable standard we must all endeavour to achieve? So the writer, being the “patriot” he pretends to be, subscribes to the argument that international standards are better than local Sri Lankan ones?? Perhaps he’d be better off giving up penning groundless contradictory arguments and using that time to have his head checked. Ditto for Prof Sucharitha Gamage who claims he’s glad he was not invited to this festival because he’d rather not waste listening to the nonsense spouted by the Sri Lankan English writers (and the sour grapes continue to hang above in all their fat juicy glory) and goes on to proclaim that all he knows is that literature in Sri Lanka is dead. Seeing as he’s a literature professor, perhaps he can keep the above Mawbima article writer company at the doctor’s office. *end of my rant!* :oD

Secondly, an article which was forwarded to me today questioned the “appropriate[ness] for a registered charity dedicated to Sri Lanka’s December 2004 tsunami relief to sponsor a foreign literary festival” the details of which kind of soured things. This post is too long as it is, so I’ll leave you to read that article for more on that particular aspect!

All in all though, from the one day’s experience I had at the festival, I’d say if there was another one, and the line up was good, I’d definitely go again. But this time I’ll know better than to expect too much because I guess first steps are never too easy to take perfectly and at the end of the day, it seemed a superb effort! :o)

The bad news was that I wiped out most of my savings buying books (although I couldn’t get my hands on Muller’s book of essays) and had to turn down a (very good) invite to party on Sat seeing as I was completely, utterly broke! :o( The good news though was that I got to instead curl up in bed with Desai’s “The Inheritance of Loss” with a sickeningly full mug of hot chocolate..which reminds me, does anyone know where I can get those itty bitty marshmellows?? :o)

How we see others…

2007-01-11T06:05:00.000+05:30

If we were to take a palmful of water from a freely flowing river, can we use that palmful to know the river? Does the colourless still water tell us that the river was a dull brown-green? Or do the mini rainbows arching within the water tell one of the silvery sparkles that danced on the surface of the river? Does one ever know how deep and long the river flows?

Isn’t that what we expect and accept when we meet people? We take a word, a phrase, a story they gave us, or we stole, and seek to find the whole person within that one word and one story. Don’t we see that person in a lovely mauve shade or a dull grey only because we ourselves are looking through a mauve or grey shade instead of a clear one?

The palmful of water snatched from the river merely conforms to the contours of our palm. It takes only the hue of our hand and the depth of the crevice between the pads of our palm…

It seems obviously unwise to judge the river by that palmful, yet we don’t hesitate to see and judge a person from one story, one inference, one rumour.

But at the end of the day, maybe it doesn’t really matter. Maybe it doesn’t matter if we judge the river by the palmful or not, for it doesn't change what is real. For that palmful of water will seep slowly through our fingers till there is not a trace left. But the river! The river may continue to still flow green brown and the sparkles may still wink; but all the while, it will continue to run along laughing, laughing for its hidden unknown depths are still masked by what we choose to see in the palmful of water we hold.

Above River Pic by Turtle

The most beautiful bride EVER!!

2007-01-07T11:41:00.000+05:30

I’ve known Desh for over 12 years now and she’s the sort of person who makes the whole world smile when she smiles (literally and metaphorically!) and so when she got hitched last Thursday it was quite expected that she’d make a gorgeous bride...but oh boy!! She looked so stunning that ‘stunning’ doesn’t even start to cover it! She’s the first bride I’ve seen who really did glow on her special day!! And this was at 8pm in the evening…after being dressed from noon and going thru hours of photo-taking and a church wedding!!

She looked so happy I wanted to cry!! (But I couldn’t remember if the mascara was waterproof..so had to resort to blinking rapidly instead..bloody make up getting in my way! :(

With the proud parents

Glowing, glowing, glowing! :o)

Everyone made it! :o)

And the whole time, I was thanking god I’d got a early flight and made it here in time..cos had I missed this, I would have seriously hanged myself! :oD

Hehehe :oD

..and off she goes! ..STILL glowing! :oD

Congratulations Desh and Hemaka!!

..love you guys heaps! xox

Not really being there…

2007-01-02T03:40:00.000+05:30

A couple of days ago, I went along to what was meant to be a special day for a friend…and found to my dismay that I was only one of the 2 people who bothered showing up…despite the fact that the invite list was much longer…and this got me thinking..

Why do we expect people to be there for us, to stay loyal and true to us… Is it to fool ourselves into staying happy? Feeling cared for? Loved? Is it not our own vanity that makes us think that friends, family and other loved ones will always be around us, in days full of light as well as those in darkness?

If you take a minute you’d notice that perhaps we don’t always think about it, but our shadow seems to always be around. It seems that the shadow never leaves the heels of our feet, but walks along with us, indiscriminate of how we feel and who we are. But this is only an illusion we hang on to as we plod along because we don’t bother to really notice that shadow…instead, we leave it to sway in the periphery of our vision…and only see it when it’s not there, or when we need to see it to dispel the loneliness.

In reality, the shadow clings to our heels so loyally only in the light. Depending on the light and its angle, the shadow grows and recedes. It dances to a rhythm we can’t control for it listens and knows only the music of light. But we always find that when there is darkness, the shadow is no more…for when the music vanishes, when the notes are tuneless, the shadow knows not the steps anymore.

If even our own shadows cling to us only in times of light, why is it that we expect people to be with us, for us, in our times of darkness? Why do we expect people to materialize out of nowhere for even a short waltz that’ll help us smile for a few minutes a day, when those who are closest to us hears the music no more?

The Forgotten: He who died for me

2006-12-18T12:30:00.000+05:30

There was always something that bothered me about the man in olive fatigues holding a gun who stood at the top of the street. I think this is a feeling that was/ is shared by a good many people in Sri Lanka over the last years and now. The fact that he stood in the sun, two wet streaks running down the sides of his face, while we scuttled to find a shady spot bothered me then. It bothers me now.

But I’d never really been able to put my finger on why it exactly bothered me. I rationalised that in a country where there was a war, someone had to die, someone had to give their life. For if I didn’t think like that, I guess I would need to take up arms and give my life too for ‘the cause’ whatever that was.

Yesterday, I found why it bothered me so much. I went for a concert held as a fundraiser to fund a housing scheme for soldiers. At the start of the concert two minutes’ silence was observed for those who gave their life for us. And images I’d seen in the media rose unbidden while I stood thinking, being reminded once again, that every day of my life I stood on the blood and tears of so many men. And though for a moment something snapped within me as it always does at the end of this train of thought, this wasn’t the powerful moment. That was to come much later.

In the middle of the concert a soldier, who had lost his leg to the war, sang a couple of songs too. After the singing, he hobbled off stage – stiff-legged, leaning heavily on a metal cane, concentratingly watching his feet put one in front of the other. That half a minute he took to painfully walk off the stage brought home the fact that no matter how much we thank the forces, no matter how much we give to ‘them’, it’s never enough. Never.

We thank the army, the navy, the air force, the entire thrivida hamudava. But how many of us remember that it’s not a ‘people’, a mass we must thank, but one person at a time? One person at a time? A person who will live the rest of his life without an arm and/ or leg that was familiar to him as much as my arm and leg is familiar to me now?

When we observe those two minutes of silence, when we see images of the dead, our dead, we think of them as those who died for us, but forget to see that it was he who died for us.

And I guess that is the reality of war. Not that someone had to stand in the sun so I can stand in the shade, but that when I pay tribute, I pay tribute to a lot of people. Not really to the one person who watched life expire from his limbs, lungs, loved ones.

In reality then, doesn’t that one soldier, that one person who died forever, or in bits and pieces as he was de-limbed, therefore remain to me forever nameless? Faceless?

Forgotten?

Dimi tagged me..Grrr!

2006-12-17T18:25:00.000+05:30

Ok, so I have to do this weird tag thing all because of Dimi..

To do:

1. Grab the book closest to you.

2. Open to page 123, go down to the fifth sentence.

3. Post the text of next 3 sentences on your blog.

4. Name of the book and the author.

5. Tag three people.

Done:

1. Grabbed

2. Opened. Fifth sentence found.

3. "The serfs, as it happened, believed rumours then circulating that the new king, Alexander II, intended to liberate them unconditionally. They smelled a rat. They did not spot Count Tolstoy's pretentiousness but feared, rather, his (non-existent) business acumen, and flatly refused his proposal."

4. Paul Johnson, Intellectuals

5. I tag Turtle (whose uni work is not half as important as this!), Jokerman (who will finally kill me for this surely) and Evil (who will either find this distraction useful in his new dis-tobacco-ed state OR never visit this blog again!).

And Dimi, you ain't getting any chocolate from ME! :op

Going home - the scary and the hope :o)

2006-12-14T07:37:00.000+05:30

Tonight I go back home to Sri Lanka and I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit this week. There are things I look forward to, but there are lots of things that also scare me. This fear, I think, is rooted in the fact that I have come to realize that I don’t really know Sri Lanka. I grew up in Colombo, and I don’t think I knew the real Sri Lanka except in glimpses here and there. It is as Arthur Jarvis said, in Alan Paton's Cry, The Beloved Country, of growing up in South Africa:

“One can ride, as I rode when I was a boy, over green hills and into great valleys. One can see, as I saw when I was a boy, the reserves of the Bantu people and see nothing of what was happening there at all… One can read, as I read when I was a boy, the brochures about lovely South Africa, that land of sun and beauty sheltered from the storms of the world, and feel pride in it and love for it, and yet know nothing about it at all. It is only as one grows up that one learns of the hates and fears of our country. It is only then that one’s love grows deep and passionate, as a man may love a woman who is true, false, cold, loving, cruel and afraid.”

What I know of the real Sri Lanka is so little because as a teenager growing up, one lives (at least I did) in a bubble where there’s so much going on – school, exams, sport, emotional roller-coasters – that you don’t let yourself really open your eyes and look around you…except for a brief cursory glance. It really is when you start growing up that you learn of the real storms thundering around you. But I did that growing up elsewhere, outside of Sri Lanka. I saw bits of Sri Lanka through these new “grown up” eyes during holidays – but that’s really what they were in the end – holidays in which I saw things, heard things, but left behind at the end of the month.

I did my growing up and the real seeing and hearing in Melbourne. I did find a lot of 'good' here, but in end, I can’t reconcile myself to accept the pile of bad no matter how sparkly the pile of good glitters. Men arrive on these shores with only the clothes on their back, for fear of their lives, and are locked up like common criminals; and families which were victimised and broken apart by fundamentalists elsewhere are once again victimised and broken apart by liberals here – again and again. There's nothing as painful as watching a grown man cry for his wife, for his children; there's nothing as uplifting as promising him you'd find a way; and there's nothing to compare to the fear that keeps you awake night after night afraid of other men's policies that'll make your words drown in nothingness. In some ways, I'm leaving because I know I don't want to stay.

When I return to Sri Lanka, I return to what I'd seen only in glimpses here and there over the last couple of decades. But also buried deep within those slightly thundery unsure images and the “golden beaches” of brochures and postcards, I also carry a few special images; rare glimpses of real radiance like the complete untouched beauty of the morning fog over Lokgaloya. I found that unexpectedly, the breath caught in my throat, as I passed through on the way elsewhere.

So I leave behind the country I could not really connect with, the country that destroyed my faith in simple humanity. I know I will never return to Melbourne. For me, that golden ball of fire in the sky here is a hypocrite; lighting the blue skies whilst a dark thundery cloud lies hidden on the horizon; firing mundane trees to blanket whole areas in thick grey fog.

Yes, it's inevitable that I’ll see such dark clouds in the blue skies of Sri Lanka too. Yet that is MY country and right now, that seems to make all the difference. And so here's hoping for real love for Sri Lanka in the coming months and years. And maybe, just maybe, even real and dramatic enough to be “deep and passionate, as a man may love a woman who is true, false, cold, loving, cruel and afraid.”

Painting: Monet's Red Kerchief

Too damn hilarious! :o)

2006-12-10T07:56:00.000+05:30

You know how you see something hilarious and think, damn, why didn't I bring my camera? Well, this friend of mine had her camera and captured these on the doors of the Ladies and Gents bathrooms in (I believe) Amsterdam :o) Apparently, a friend who was with her was embarrassed she chose to photograph this, but as she later told me, "but how often do you see things like that???" (That quote's in pink cos she's a pink sort of person :o)

The Ladies:

The Gents:

Just too damn funny!

Both photos: Viola Lobert

Note for Viola: Thank yoouuuu for letting me put these up here! :o) Remembering that you're a "pink sort of person" made me miss you more now!! :'o( xox

Do I really want to be a lawyer?!?

2006-12-08T08:22:00.000+05:30

Next Tuesday I sit for (hopefully) my final exam and so this is probably not the time to question the point of the last four years…yet, now that I’m almost at the end, I do question it. I wanted to read and write, write and read all my life, yet law was tempting and when it knocked, I gave in and bid it welcome. And now that I have to decide on a career path and find a job, I really do wonder at it. At the choice I made. And more at the choice I might have let slip past.

There’s a path before you, a path that ends at a cliff, a path you have not walked before. Once you start walking it, you know there can be no returning, not to what you leave behind. So you make a decision to walk, you find someone who makes the sunshine a little bit brighter around you and put one foot in front of the other.

You take their hand and walk, the sweet scent of the world wafting around you. Little stones prick the soft soles, boulders lie across the path, flowers bloom prettily while thorns run down their green stalks. You choose to walk around the boulders, furtively wipe the blood off your fingers and ignore the pricks of pain for if you did not, that path would be walked alone. Alone, in the dark of night when pain is unseen, in the monsoons when tears invisible.

At the end of the path lies the cliff, with the ocean below, yet out of sight. And you don’t know if the waves roll in softly or thunder against the rock. You don’t know if the water is warm and light-dappled or icy and deep. Without the safety of knowing, you need to jump. For you said you would. You took a foot off that cliff, that promising hand in your clammy one, and know now it’s too late to refuse. Too late to run to the footsteps you now suddenly hear behind you. The foot prints you had not stopped to examine before. But it’s too late to run back now for you have committed yourself too much.

If a drowning man clutches at straws, a falling man grabs at anything that floats past. And when you take that jump, what else do you hang on to but optimism? But optimism can be reality’s worst nightmare for it creates hope. It’s the softly fading rainbow of the man losing sight. It makes you search the vacant air for a stray parachute. It keeps the water warm, the sand soft below. And hope never dies. Not till the icy water numbs the pain and you lie on the rocks below, your head splintered, unseeing eyes staring at the empty blue of the sky arching above. Only then, only then, will hope die its silently shattered death.

But who’s to say the parachute will not come?

Now back to the studying...ack!

Hope on the Edge

2006-12-06T08:01:00.000+05:30

When you’re a kid, there’s this game some adults play with you. They hold out a fist to you and ask you to guess what they hold within. So you guess – a chocolate! a marble! And some adults give you whatever it is they brought. But there were others. Others who made you peel back their fingers, one by one, till you can see the treasure they hold, till you can grasp it within your own small fist.

Life is like this I think. A fist held out to you, fingers to be peeled back one by one. Yet the difference is you’re no longer a child. You hope for the chocolate, the coloured marble, but somewhere in the back of your mind you know there could be something nasty, something sick. Yet, since hope is a funny thing, you peel back the fingers anyway.

Some are fast enough to find a glittery treasure within a few minutes, whilst others spend their whole life without once catching sight of anything beautiful. Some catch sight of a pretty shade and grasp it only to find that the colour fades too soon. Some peel back the fingers to find that the fist held nothing at all.

However, there are lucky ones among us. The ones who find the marble. The marble with the stripe of colours held tight within the glass. In this marble of life, that stripe is a Mobius strip – one-sided, one edged. Bits of it we walk the right way up, bits of upside down, but all of it on the same path. There’s only one very small challenge in walking through this colourfully marbled world. Whether one breaks into dance on the right-way-up bits or gets too dizzy on the upside-down bits, we need to stay away from the edge.

For beyond that edge, hope does not exist. And fists will never be extended again.

Doggone love..will it work out?

2006-11-30T07:38:00.000+05:30

I was going through some photos I had and came across these.. thought I'll put them up here with the story behind them..

At home, we have this dude called Chico, also known as Dingiri Appo. He's a blonde lab/ alsatian and has almost nothing upstairs (this was the way he was born, apparently). He doesn't know he's a dog, and thinks he's human (I think). He used to have gender issues and couldn't decide if he should pee like a boy or a girl and for a long time did it both ways, depending on the mood. I'm not sure if he has resolved these issues since I haven't seen him in a few months! He also insists that we include him in anything and everything we do - including the "family discussions". For eg, when a few of us pounce on a topic and sit around talking, wherever he may be, Dingiri Appo, aka Chico, comes running in, heaves himself onto his chair (to which ownership has been claimed by force) and sits there with a face expression which says okay-you-can-start-talking-now-that-I'm-here-and-all. This is a classic example:

This particular photo though was taken by Turtle earlier this year, during one of Dingiri Appo's mad fits (which he has right after a bath) hence the kinda themichcha kukula look around the neck!

Anyways, earlier this year, Dingiri Appo was on a desperate girlfriend search. He developed a thing for a girl doggy who was quite, quite unacceptable to the family. So after many attempts to convince him of her unsuitability, it was decided that we must introduce him to someone more suitable. So, answering an ad in Kelaniya for a "free to good home" girl dog, we went and fetched her for Dingiri. This potential-girlfriend is called Timmy (yes, after the Famous Five Timmy - we didn't choose the name, the previous owners did) and her most beautiful feature is that she has white whiskers on the right side of her face and black whiskers on the left like so:

Is it any wonder it was love at first sight for Dingiri Appo? (sometimes he's so arrested by her, he even forgets to pick up his empty-plastic-bottle-toy and run around like a mad thing):

But

, perhaps we got the nakatha, etc wrong, for she rejected him outright at the time. Poor Dings! Now, however, I've been told, they are friends and take their siesta, etc, together like so:

So in conclusion, fingers crossed, here's hoping that she'll come around in time and they'll live happily ever after as ~~dog~~ man and wife.

(All pics courtesy of the

Turtle)

Today ;o(

2006-11-24T12:58:00.000+05:30

Borrowed a car from a friend cos I needed to get some chores done (which could not be done on the bus!)..and I should have known something bad was gonna happen cos the entrance to the highway was closed and had to start my journey reversing more than 500 meters down the road to get to the next street since my street is one way.. Anyway, so on the way passed two dead birds and was starting to kinda wonder wtf was going on today when two streets before the destination, took a wrong turn, crashed into truck (an 8 wheeler!!) and got myself well and truly wedged between the engine bit and the loonnnggg bit that carries things (and I can't be bothered looking up what those bits are called so shall just call 'em "bits").

Did I die? No. But there was enough crunching to make me think I probably was dead even though a voice in my head kept sayin omg,omg,omg,omg over and over again ;o( A dude passing by stopped and drove me around the corner to a nearby petrol shed seeing as I was hardly managing to stay on my feet, nevermind get myself behind the wheel again. After this kindly stranger left, after making me promise that I will call a friend to pick me up, I proceeded to sit in the petrol shed for 45 minutes shaking..with that damned voice STILL going omg, omg, omg,omg..

I've been driving for the last 8 years and have never even come close to hitting something (nothing spectacular enough to remember at least), on Sri Lankan mad roads too mind, and then have to fucking wedge myself in a truck here on these neat wide roads a couple of weeks before I leave the country!! Arrgghh.

After all that drama I get home to a neat note left by the housemate which says that the internet at home won't be reconnected till at least mid mext week. Which means I'm going to have to live with this bloody omg-ing voice for the next 4 or 5 days without any other distraction, by the end of which I will surely be a raving lunatic.

Shit.Shit.SHIT.

A crazy day in a crazy country

2006-11-15T14:55:00.001+05:30

You know it's time to get out of this mad country when you wake up to glorious sunshine..

..followed by rain..

..followed by hail..

..bits of ice everywhere..

..bits of ice on the grass..

..and then blue skies once again..

..a multi-season day in the middle of Spring..

..that's Melbourne for you!

Who is "mad" - me or she??

2006-11-13T08:03:00.000+05:30

Last week I visited a friend who introduced me to her grandmother who was apparently "not quite right". She certainly seemed all right to me, but apparently she wasn't. Since I didn't know the grandaughter too well, I couldn't really question her, so while coffee was being made, I talked to the "not quite right" grandma. Or rather, she talked to me.

The news was on and there was a man talking about the failure of the war in Iraq, to which the grandma listened quite patiently beofre suddenly sayin - we don't realize that everything we do, we do only for ourself. Even when we help someone, we help them only because it gives us the satsifaction of having done some good. And only God does things for others without looking for personal happiness. Not exactly how I see the war in Iraq (!!) or God for that matter, so was this what made her "not quite right"?

No, 'course not cos when the chick came back with coffee she decided to show me just how "not quite right" her grandma was. She proceeded to ask her grandmother a series of questions. What year is this? After much thought the answer came back - 1982. How old was she? 55 (she was actually 79). How old was the granddaughter? 'you graduated last year. 24' (correct). Where did she live? An address so far out in the suburbs I had not heard of the place (though they actually lived very close to the city). Where was grandpa? Glancing at the clock on the wall, 'at work' (he had died about 20 years ago I think) and so on.

Throughout this questioning, this chick found these answers hilarious. And the questions got wackier till I told her I didn't find it funny. I don't know what exactly the grandma had for she remembered some things quite correctly and other things so very incorrectly..but what disconcerted me was not the errors the grandma made, but the fact that this girl I had thought was quite "normal" was so entertained by her grandmother's "madness". Wasn't that a much worse madness than whatever the old lady had?? And is the fact that I find the girl "mad" and not at all hilarious mean that I myself is afflicted with some sort of "madness"?

Why is it that we are so quick to see madness in others but not in ourselves? Why is it that we must always point to that mad person and not to this mad person in the mirror? Is it because if we start seeing our own madness, we can never surface from the dark labyrinth we are dragged into? Is it because we start seeing people in the dark alleyways that hitherto ran empty in solitude within us? Maybe it's because when we start seeing those that hover in the twilight of our hearts, we expect others to see them and we want others to see them. When they cannot, we are disappointed. Maybe it is to shield ourselves, from this disappointment, from that feeling of utter aloneness we feel when we realize that we are alone among those ghosts within us, that we refuse to see the madness within us and are quite happy to pass judgment on others.

Ho hum..what boredom can do to one..

2006-11-08T11:18:00.001+05:30

I've been accused, that I've not posted for a while on this thing, by my one-member fan club (yes, it's still only one ;o( ..but then again, how many members does a manshark fan club need anyway?!)

I've spent about 5 days at home now and it's driving me stark raving mad. I see why people are asked to go out and meet other people..it keeps the madness at bay for li'l while at least. BUT omg, what I realized when I did go out yday. Since I started this blog I now think of myself as Manshark..in the third person!! Omg, omg, omg..

Firstly, yday I was at lunch with a friend and, referring to my headache, I said "poor li'l manshark's head" (!!!) and he's like "WHAT?!?" Arrgghh..almost stabbed myself with the butter knife...(btw, there was this schizophrenic dude who actually committed suicide by stabbing himself with a butter knife..Okay, you didn't need to know that as interesting as it is, but I just realized that the direction my thoughts were progressing in may not be too safe in the long run..mmh).

Secondly, I have now started thinking in the third person too..such as..manshark is hungry, etc..which is doubly wierd since I never referred to meself in the third person aloud or inside my head even before the advent of manshark..What the?!?

Thirdly, I'm convinced this is a contagious disease I've caught from that sexy-boot-wearing-Turtle, who by the way, has promised to get me some of 'em very nice elmo socks (ernie would do too) for my next b'day (to keep away the maduruwas and such in Lanka)..so reminder for Turtle..you now have 139 days..I suggest you forget all that reading and uni and things and get out there asap..

Fourthly, apologies to those who've been reading this blog like it's a so-very-important-doc to fool the boss..but I'm fast running out of anymore mind-boggling, jaw-breaking things to say here so I reckon I'll wrap this up..

Fifthly, if you do, however, need to still pretend to keep reading, then stare very hard and intently at the pic of the flame on my profile bit on the right..if you're doing it right you will see the flame wavering..enjoy!

*Manshark runs off muttering to herself*

Do NOT try this at home!!

2006-11-03T08:01:00.000+05:30

One of the first blog posts I ever read (no idea whose) was about how the older (Sri Lankan) generation has given us a shitty li'lcountry with a lot of shitty problems and now we, the new generation, are going to have to deal with the end result of all that crap. Now I was e-mailed this li'l experiment early this mornin which I thought might just be relevant:

What you Need:

- 1 cage

- 1 banana

- Some stairs

- A water hose

- Lots of monkeys (at least 10)

What to Do:

Set up the cage with the banana hanging inside and the stairs placed under the said banana. Next send in five of the monkeys. Now be patient (and have the hose ready). Soon one of the monkeys will move away from the group and start to climb the stairs to get to the banana. As soon as this happens spray water at all the monkeys (and thereby detering the adventurous monkey as well). In a while more, another monkey will try to go for the banana - repeat as above and douse them monkeys with water. Let a couple more of the monkeys go for the banana and repeat process. Soon enough, when a monkey tries to go for the banana, the rest of the monkeys will attack it to stop it even if you don't spray water on them cos they expect the water anyway. Now comes the interesting bit.

Take a monkey out of the cage and replace it with another (who does not know this process obviously). Now this new monkey will try to go for the banana. And the poor monkeys in there who still remember the water will attack the new dude to stop it. This will happen everytime he tries to go for the banana. Then take a second monkey out of the cage and replace it with a new one. New one will go for banana, others will attack..including the first new one who has no idea why he's attacking - he just knows he must stop this new dude cos all the other monkeys think so. Then take a third monkey out and replace him. This third one will be attacked by 2 monkeys who have no idea why they're attacking him and 2 old ones who remember the water. Then a fourth one - he will be attacked by 3 monkeys who've no idea why and one old monkey who remembers. Then replace the final one. This will be attacked by the other four (= all) monkeys - though none of them really have any idea why exactly they're trying to stop him. So there's no more need for water cos none of the monkeys will go near the banana again without being attacked by the others.

What to Think:

Why is this? Cos that's the way things were done, and that's the way things should continue to be done.

What to Question:

Now, can we really blame the old monkeys who remembered and not the new monkeys who fell in line?

However, seeing as I don't know just how intelligent monkeys generally are, I can't say how far they're capable of any independent thinking really.

Top 5ive things I hate...

2006-10-31T17:38:00.000+05:30

...about living in the land down under. I’m only writing this to give you poor souls a break from all the politics, mayhem and what not. At least that’s all you need to know. (Note to Manshark: this is for reminding you things you might forget if Sri Lanka were to start driving you mad someday in the near future).

So, the Top 5ive things I hate about living in the land down under:

1. When the sky goes all blue and rains down blinding sunshine and I, like the fool that I am, run out (and still miss the damned bus!) without a jacket and freeze my butt off since the cold wind won the contest over the sun

2. People who have no respect for running mansharks and beep their horns and scare the living day lights out of me

3. Crazy tram drivers who ding-ding-ding! at running mansharks and scare whatever remains of the living day lights (what are living day lights? The number of ‘light’ of days one lives? So does that mean manshark shall now only live at night?)

4. Vicious, lunatic magpies

5. People who run over possums and leave their carcasses (the possum's, not suicide-ed people's) in the middle of the road (okay, I'm not asking for a sob-fest burial here, but at least leave 'em on the road side so the rest of the possum-brood won't possibly get run over looking for mum)

6. (Hyper) footy crowd at Richmond station on Sat arvo – no, the stink of beer is just not attractive

7. People who say ‘she’ll be right mate’ instead of giving me a hug when I tell them I have failed my exams

8. Big, neat roads with polite drivers that make driving such a bore. Now, in Sri Lanka, it’s a bit different, y’see. First, when you manage to nudge your way on to the main road from the itty bitty lane you were on, there’s the exhilaration of your first triumph of the journey. Then comes the mad go, stop, go, STOP!! (fucking three-wheeler full of grinning dimwits), go, stop, shit that dimwit-full three wheeler is after me, go, go, GO!!, stop, apologize to the biker you almost ran over (yes, it’s always the non-bikes that are at fault), go, stop, etc. Then comes the best feeling of all when you reach your destination: knowing you achieved, albeit verging on near insanity now, all that you set out to achieve and have gone the full distance of the journey you set out to travel. THAT feeling is just not there in the land down under.

9. People who find tiny ~~people~~ mansharks cute for they not only selfishly withhold (much deserved) hugs, they also selfishly don’t understand how much time it takes to try to get a good foothold just so I can at least see the bloody exam paper that’s on that abnormally high desk from the abnormally low chair

10. Lack of humidity – when my hair doesn’t go crazy people mistake me for a normal sane ~~person~~ manshark and tell me normal sane things about their normal sane lives which are just too normally, sanely boring. Well, except maybe "Bob" who lives on swanston street and once told me he knew I was one of ‘em the minute I stopped to listen to his crazy li’l songs (I actually stopped to pet the lab who lives with him, but why burst his bubble?) Besides, "Bob" hates chocolate so I don’t need to share my choc waffle with him while I listen to the stories 'bout people he’d met who have fires in their head ("Bob"'s been places you've never ~~dreamed~~ nightmared of!)

I know I said “5ive” above, but once I got started, there were just so darn many…Why did I not get my one-way ticket outta here earlier??

Go give your mom a hug! ;o)

2006-10-28T22:47:00.000+05:30

A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie...

- Tenneva Jordan

Now go give your mom a hug!!

I gotta wait two more months!! :'- (

Painting: "Mother and Children"

Future of Sri Lankan Elephants: the wild or the sheltered?

2006-10-24T19:59:00.000+05:30

I was watching a tv prog today about Sri Lankan Elephants. And what did I learn from it? I really don’t know for it left me asking more questions at the end than I had at the beginning. Especially since I’d just heard that SB Dissanayake had requested Ranil W to appoint him as the Assistant Leader of the UNP. Kinda funny ain’t it? Me ! Me! Did I say Me?

Anyways, to get to the Elephant story:

Elephants in Sri Lanka are respected and held in high-esteem. One man (in the tv prog) even went as far as to say that if there are no elephants, there is no country. However this sentimental view is not wholly shared by villagers who can’t sleep at night for fear of elephant attacks. They don’t see the elephant through the rosy hue that others do. For them, it’s not about the “elephants”. It’s about the one elephant that terrorizes them every night. The Wild Elephant.

The Wild Elephant, the one that is unloved for his uncouth ways. He does not fit in with the elephants that are respected at all those dignified Perahera’s. So what do the people think should be done to him? Killed? No, no, a village woman says. Elephants need not be killed. Just this wild uncouth one must be removed so that they can get on with their lives in peace.

A conservationist later talks of the problems brought about by elephant orphanages – they were meant to be (and still are) institutions which care/d for orphaned elephants. However, the elephants within those gates have doubled and tripled over the years and none of them can now be released into the wild for they were born “in captivity” and could not survive “in the wild.” What a conundrum this is. But then again, nevermind elephants, even men with the best of intentions, born in captivity and shelter, can't really and truly survive in the wild these days can they?

There was more in the prog about people and elephant migration and several what-to-do's that were not all that interesting, hence shall not be repeated here.

But, now I’m left trying to answer questions I had not thought of before.

At the end of the day, which ones are the best?

Those born in shelter who knows not the ways of the world?

Those born in the wild who knows not common decency and self-respect?

Elephant and Baby - Wasgamuwa Park (Dec 2004)

Pregnant men and such..

2006-10-23T19:34:00.000+05:30

So. I was browsing thru the website of Lee Mingwei - the man who is pregnant.

What bothers me most about this issue is that there a lot of people out there who think men were never meant to have babies and therefore must not. How does this reasoning work though in this day and age when we put so much money and effort into finding ways and means of prolonging life and comforting bodies that don't wish to go on?

There are those who think Peter Singer is the devil's incarnation for his views on euthanasia - for all life is special and no one has a right to decide to take it by will and anyone who believes otherwise is damned. Peter Singer is a blog post by itself (which I will get to at a date in the near future cos yes, I'm a big fan!), but why I thought of him now is cos he says some "lives" are not worth living and the (huge) opposition to that statement say oh, but they are so very worth living. Then my question in this context is, is life so very special only when it is brought about by those things with which we are famailiar with or taught as "right"?

There's the (very common) religious argument against men having babies - cos it's against what God/ Bible said. Perhaps, but I can't really answer that question seeing as I don't know enough about God/ Bible to say what He said or didn't say. So I'll leave that as it may and go on to the other) argument that I can not understand.

This protest runs along these lines (got off the comments on the website): "..wondering why you would want to mess with human life? If males were meant to have children they would have been able too have them. If a man wants a child he can adopt there are enough poor children in the world already with out a home that need one. Leave the human body they way it is suppose to be. Don't mess with it..."

Firstly, does this mean then that we must not research and find new medicines/ procedures, etc? Or maybe even, throw all those medical researchers, doctors, nurses and medicines (yes, even the panadols!) into a bottomless pit so they will stop "messing with human life" so we can all die of disease seeing as the body was meant to be prone to disease and hence we must leave it be? But even if I were to be less extreme, this attitude still throws out IVF and other such procedures cos some men/ women have bodies that are not "meant" to produce children. Wtf?!?

Secondly, should we also perhaps ban any more women from having children seeing as there are so many poor children in the world already without a home? At least till all the homeless children are adopted? Would not that be the "moral" and "ethical" thing to do ?

Of course there is some hope for (possible future) pregnant men for there are men who actually think it would be a beautiful enough experience if it could be done successfully. But I wonder how many Lankan men would ~~be threatened by~~ share this thought? ~~Boys??~~ Men??

On a serious note though, what I'm curious about is (and on which I couldn't find info during my cursory reading of the website)>> "Oral doses of female hormones were administered to Mr. Lee to make him receptive to the pregnancy."

(1). Would this be the same as hormones taken by men who undergo gender changes?
(2). After the birth of the baby (fingers crossed), would the man still be a "male" hormonally?
(3) Is "hormonally" a valid word?!? ;o)

Anyway, at the end of the day, the common reaction seems to be - men shouldn't have babies cos it's "wrong" or just plain unconventional and therefore must not be attempted. At some point in history, wasn't a woman choosing to ride her man thought to be unconventional (not to mention sinful!) too? Do men regret this "unconvenionality" now? Do they still believe 'missionary' is the best way?

the Only way?

Lee Mingwei's site here.

With my own two hands..

2006-10-22T17:46:00.000+05:30

I can change the world
With my own two hands
Make a better place
With my own two hands
Make a kinder place
With my own two hands
With my own,
With my own two hands

I can reach out to you
With my own two hands
With my own,
With my own two hands

I can hold you
With my own two hands
I can comfort you
With my own two hands
But you got to use

Use your own two hands
Use your own
Use your own two hands

With our own
With our own two hands

With My Own Two Hands - Ben Harper (Diamonds on the Inside)

Here it is!!

2006-10-20T01:40:00.000+05:30

I do believe I said I was going to do a review of The Banana Tree Crisis months ago!! And how time has flown since then! But I shall get to it in exactly 2 weeks (after exams) I promise!

BUT

..since I wouldn't want you to hold your breath or anything till then, here is a much better (than I could ever write!) review of The Banana Tree Crisis which appeared in last Sunday's (15 Oct) The Nation newspaper by KNO Dharmadasa!

This can also be accessed here!

..to whom if I were to speak, I would not understand.

2006-10-17T12:07:00.000+05:30

And 'tis DONE! Finished the damned thesis mid-day yday!! I did dearly want to do a jig of celebration but since my feet felt like lead thought I'd sleep it off first, do the jig second - and I wake up 13 hours later now and both my feet and head feel like lead. Is that normal???

Anyways, checked out Turtles Blog (as per usual) and decided to steal a few of her pics (as per usual).

This one (which I stole) I will put up here, cos it represents my life right now (and I suspect for the next couple of months to come):

A tangle of roads, heading towards a bend around which I cannot yet see; some look green and luscious, others bare and wanting, but all surrounded by daunting, daunting hills. If I had expected bright yellow signposts along the way, it seems there would be none. And coming from around the bend is a lonely man, to whom if I were to speak, I would not understand. I would not understand.

Sigh.

Let us Celebrate Our...

2006-10-16T11:16:00.000+05:30

Military Victories!

One small (very small) regret is these boys' mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives, girlfriends, sons, daugters won't be able to join in the celebrations. Or listen to all those victory speeches.

But that's okay I guess, Cos apparently we can win this war (oh no, don't say that! GOSL defence really is so strong now it can weed out every LTTE-er. There IS no such thing as driving factions underground to turn up stronger). C'mon MR! Let's do this!

I can tell my kids, look what we left for you...your country...oh, sorry, does it look like rubble to you? So what? At least I got to be proud.

I got to listen to all those victory speeches. I got to celebrate.

Life was good then.

Dogs can sniff out cancer!

2006-10-15T18:32:00.000+05:30

Yes they can. That's what a few years' worth of research has shown. Cos science relies so heavily on machines and their data analyses, scientists, doctors and cancer research foundations obviously raise their noses at such unbelievable notions based on mere anecdotal evidence.

However, generally when there is some anecdotal evidence, cancer research and other such foundations fund labs and researchers to find tangible evidence. In this case though, no such funding was forthcoming. So for more than a decade there's been only anecdotal evidence. But about 5/ 6 years ago (I think) a researcher published his findings that dogs can sniff out bladder cancer. Problem with the study? The dogs sniffed it out only something like 45% of the time. That's not good enough. However, the research was conducted to prove a principle - dogs can be trained to sniff out (at least some forms of) cancer.

Since then there's been other studies on dogs' ability to sniff out breast, prostate and lung cancer. The success rate has been astonishing. An article that was to be published in March this year in Integrative Cancer Therapies did this study: 5 household dogs were trained over 3 weeks to sniff out breast or lung cancer by sniffing breath tests of patients. The study found that dogs can sniff out breast or lung cancer with an accuracy level of 88-97%.

A tv prog called Can Dogs Smell Cancer? (SBS) shows a research team in California (I think) that leaves a breath test done on a lung cancer patient FIVE years ago (which was since then left in a non-airtight container in a garage all these years) with some breath tests of non-cancer patients and the trained dog sniffs it out!! Something no machine on earth can yet do!

A sceptical oncologist from the UK Cancer Council who was interviewed (on the same prog) said ONE BIG problem would be that patients would not trust and/or rely on a dog sniffing out cancer.

Considering that right now it's doctors who "sniff out" the ~~cash~~ cancer (in terms of suspecting something to be cancer or sth like that to order the relevant tests) why not dogs? Esp considering we use dogs to sniff things out in other life/death situtations in this terrorism-filled days? Besides, a lot of doctors today are people who seem to forget their oath and moral codes at will. For eg, when my grandma was really sick the doctors, after keeping her in hospital for over 2 weeks said they wanted to do a bone marrow exam on her. Based on what evidence? Well, cos they couldn't find anything wrong with the patient, but the patient was too weak to get out of bed or even open her eyes. So the doctor suspected a form of bone cancer (since my great-grandma might have had had it from the symptoms my uncle recalls). So my mom asks what the good doctor was planning - long term. Well, comes the answer, it's likely that if we find cancer, it'll be quite advanced now so we'll have to treat it with chemo. But considering the age of the patient (86), it's unlikely she'll survive chemo. Right. So again, WHY are we doing this test? Certainly not in the name of 'curing' the patient. At least, not in this particular case. This is only ONE of my personal experiences with doctors who use patients as their very own guinea pigs/ research projects. You don't want to hear the rest. Or the experiences of other people I know.

And anyways why should doctors/ researchers be so afraid of encouraging the use of dogs in early cancer detection? Isn't timing everything in cancer?!? And doctors will have their fair go anyway cos dogs only "detect" - they don't "cure" or "treat."

If I had to choose between trusting a dog or a doctor to detect the possibility of cancer in my body, give me a dog anytime! At least I know it's not thinking "what other tests can I order that'll bring in the $$?" and/or "how many more times can I ask this patient to come back to see ME, the expensive "specialist"?"

Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god

2006-10-14T12:58:00.000+05:30

My thesis is due in five days! 5! Five! FIVE!!!!!!

Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god

OH MY GOD

I can either

1. Sit dow and Just Do It

2. Find a thick rope and hang myself

Option 2 is tempting, but I must resist. I mean, what would everyone do without moi?? (ie, once the celebrations die down)

(Don't you dare answer that!!)

To rant a blog or to blog a rant? That is the title.

2006-10-13T13:26:00.000+05:30

A 30C day was forecast, hence off I went about my chores in a skirt and rubber slippers. BUT I forgot that winter had made my feet dry and soft and used-to-socks. Hence 15 minutes into the walk there was a blister on each foot.

Having limped the last 20 minutes to my destination tragic realization hit me- I needed to walk back all that way home again! No can do.

So I walk into a pharmacy to buy bandaids.The lady behind the counter very politely tells me that bandaids don't come in ones or twos but in 25 bandaid packs. Err..excuse me, lady, I have two blisters, not twenty-five. And apparently the pharmacy also doesn't take Eftpos for purchases under $10 and there was no ATM in sight. I pray and hope tmrw's newspapers will report that a lady pharmacist was found dead from having mysteriously acquired 25 on blisters on each foot.

And for all of you who saw me limping home (a green-skirted manshark, that is) thank you very much for offering me a ride. I hope you die of blisters someday soon too.

For all of you who stopped me to ask if I had a blister, and cluck your

tongue in sympathy - that did not help. A bandaid might have.

And to the Russian-accented dude who sympathised with my limping around the dvd store just before proceeding to tell me 'I think you are gorgeous' (as if there was such a thing as an ugly manshark!) - go fuck yourself. Next time you so much as look at me, I'll have you shot (mafia links are easy to acquire around here).

And while I'm on this rant, let me also tell you all the things I found annoying during my (slow) walk home: every fucking song on my i-pod (it'd now be at the bottom of a river had I found one), the sound of housekeys jiggling around in my bag (why do I have so many keys when there's only one door to my house?), people who don't pick up their dogs' shit off the pavements (have you tried manoeuvring - how the fuck do you spell that word?!? - around such piles with blistered-feet?), Magpies protecting their young in trees who swoop down at you for walking under (well, excuse me for living!), supermarkets that run out of chocolate wafers (no, vanilla will not fucking do), and finally when I find a million e-mails waiting for me at home from people who send millions of friend requests/ messages to my Hi 5 (one of these days, I'm gonna shut down that site and all you losers are gonna have to find yourselves a job!).

Aaaaarrrrgggghhhh.

Pretty Proud Doggy!

2006-10-11T19:26:00.000+05:30

While Turtle stalks dogs across New York city, I stalk dogs in my neighbourhood. Esp the blonde droopy-eared tailess cocker spaniel next door. Don't balme me, she totally encourages it - sitting out on the porch till whatever time I decide to come home and say hello - even if it rains . After then only will she will scratch at the door (of its owners) to be let in. Very, very lovable.

Now there is this other doggy, Bella, owned by my other neighbours who is just too cute for words (Bella, not the neighbours). BUT my god, her pride!! When I talk to her, she looks the other way - how rude. If I hide and watch her (no, I'm no lunatic, this is perfectly normal behaviour according to Psychotics Anonymous) she actually starts craning her neck looking around - but only till she sees me watching her. Then she promptly turns her face away with this I-wasn't-looking-for-you expression on her face. How much ruder can you get.

So today, I was sitting on the back steps having my dinner (it was 32C - way too hot when you live in a house - without a fan - that was sealed up for winter) and spied Bella SPYING on ME while sitting with her back turned to me!! The damn cheek!! So of course I did what any normal person in my place would do - I set up my camera to try to capture the out-of-the-corner-of-her-eyes looks she was shooting me while I pretended to ignore her. After a dozen or so blurred bad ones here's the best one I got:

The flash goes off, and what do you know, she turns out to be a poser!! And proceeds to very obligingly sit quite prettily while I snapped away, not once looking away. Aint't she pretty??

This is one chick who puts that kohl pencil to good use! lol

Why am I writing this? Cos exams are on in a week & hence am procrastinating (as per usual).

Isn't the real question, why are you reading this?

Movie "Anjalika" IMO!! ;o)

2006-10-07T13:34:00.000+05:30

This post will be about the Sri Lankan film 'Anjalika' - so those not interested, you can bugger off now.

It was screened here down under last weekend & not being too big a fan of very commercial movies, I was in a dilemma - to go or not to go. Those who'd already watched it fell into two broad groups: "Ooohhh!! It's goooorrrrrgggeeeeoooouuusssss!" or "the story/plot isn't much but the photography, etc is beautiful." Hence what could I do but resort to (v.v.v.bad!) reviews of the film! One review in the Observer narrated the entire story for 2/3rds of the article before gushing on about that fantastic performances of not only ALL actors/ actresses concerned, but even of the editor, music director, make-up artist, art director AND production manager who "have done justice to their assigned jobs." A Daily News review carried much of the same gushing praise. Righto.

BUT another review in The Observer left me in shock. The writer had clearly not understood that his job was to review the bloody film - and not make personal attacks on the actors. This review included asking Channa Perera to get beauty advice from his "beautician wife" and advice to Anarkali that acting "means a lot more than just showing off skin" and "cleavage." To think there are editors out there who feel justified publishing such utter rubbish.

Anyway, so off I went to watch the masterpiece. This is my take:

I quite liked the screenplay (by Channa Perera and Mahesh Sathsara Maddumaarachchi) cos it was quite well-written and the humour was actually funny without resorting to the under the belt type. The plot/ storyline I guess was keeping with this genre of film - complete with a twist at the end that was so twisted it was quite unreal (and did kinda come apart). However, the nature of the story required such a dramatic twist to keep with the 'happily ever after' end and I guess if one looks for a realistic end, then one cannot always expect the 'happily ever after' and so I will keep an open mind and accept the ending in the context of the genre!

The actors. Firstly, the main lead, Pooja, was simply brilliant. That's all there is to say about her. But the other female lead, Anarkali, quite tragic cos she just cannot seem to express any emotion. While her character in this movie actually gave her some room to bring out any talents she may possess - she unfortunately failed utterly - even her crying struck a false note. At the opposite end of the line is Sanath Gunatilleke - grossly over-acting as usual. One would have thought he was playing Macbeth on a stage! I don't understand how this man still gets employed. In contrast is the performances of the smaller roles - those of Anjalika's parents and NARADA (!!) himself! Very, very commendable. ;o)

I left Channa Perera's performance for last cos I found it the most diasppointing - not cos he wasn't good - he was - but cos he fell far short of his potential I thought he had (has?). The love scenes were fine, but the emotional scenes after Anjalika's death that were so disappointing!! His grief was just not heart-breaking. TPerhaps this was due to some rude interruptions to these potentially 'emotion-stirring scenes.' At the peak moment of grief after Anjalika's dead, the camera zooms in on the bloated, eyes-popping-out, flesh-melted-off face of the corpse. Any emotion one might have felt is very quickly turned in to a silent scream of horror. Then later there is a beautiful song (set in Malaysia), with a very "grief-stricken" Channa and while he's battling this grief (and you're kinda starting to feel sorry for him) he sees the Anjalika-look-alike in a temple and subsequently breaks into a very jarring rap/ Iraj-Ranindu song in some sort of club - coloured lights in the background, misty smoke, leather-clad. WTF?? I just did not get that. I haven't seen Channa in anything else (except for a occassional glimpse on a tv drama my mom was watching when I walked past), but I do remember him from a TV drama (maybe 10 years or so ago?) where he played a character called something like "podi aiya" - the brother of some sort of disabled boy. His character was stubborn, at times cruel, in it and he pulled it off well enough to have run the risk of getting shot on the street. So he has (at least had) potential. Unfortunately none of that passion or depth of feeling came thru in this movie. A good place to have brought it in was perhaps some silent crying when his love interest died - but this moment was passed up instead for a scream of "Annnjjjaaalllliiiiikkkaaaa!" resonating over the misty hilltops. ;o(

All in all, while my above comments may sound quite harsh, the film wasn't too bad and very far and above the crap the SL commercial film industry has churned out in the past. The photography was beautiful though I found some of it a bit contrived (but then again, perhaps this is in keeping with the genre).

If I ever meet this Channa Perera dude (who was also the director), and I could make one recommendation to him (cos of course the world always listens to moi!), it is this: he'd do well to stay away from these "popular" actor-types like Sanath and Anarkali whose only talent seems to be to magnify the talents of their colleagues in contrast to their own!

Finally, if anyone were to ask me if they should go watch the movie Anjalika/Anjelika, what would I say? Definitely go see it cos it made me realize that, whatever its shortcomings may be, there is hope for the Sri Lankan film industry!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a post script to the above post. From some of the comments this post got I might have been misunderstood. I AM IN NO WAY SAYING DON'T WATCH THIS MOVIE. The above is merely some of the things I liked and things that could be built upon. I don't see the point of praising a movie (or anything else for that matter) just in the name of "encouraging" cos that's being blind to the things that could be improved.

Like I said in my last comment, PEOPLE SHOULD GO OUT AND WATCH THIS MOVIE cos at the end of the day, this movie is very far ahead of a lot of SL movies at the moment. Therefore, other directors would need to meet this sort of standard to stay in the industry with some credibility. Channa Perera has lots of potential and I don't need to say that cos it's pretty obvious. Even more talent would be to learn from this movie's weaknesses and give us another movie of even higher standard. At the risk of sounding corny, I have faith he'll get get there at some point! ;o)

One thing I forgot to say though, when the movie finished ppl I was with walked out saying "oh, what a beautiful country we've left behind, nae?" and I thought "you, you, you!! cos I'm going BACK in 2 months! YIPPIE - DO -DAY!!" ;o) he he he

"Protesters" "protest"

2006-10-05T07:49:00.000+05:30

This is so bloody hilarious I absolutely had to post it! ;o)

So the Govt and the LTTE have once again agreed on talks. The JVP is once again getting their knickers (or is bloomers the right word?) about 'foreign intervention' and what not. Nothing new. What's so funny though?

This: there were protests outside the Norwegian embassy with protesters carrying banners saying things like "Hands off Sri Lanka", "We must defeat the LTTE" and "Don't divide power."

"But protesters said they had been bussed in by the Marxist JVP party and were unsure why they were there.

'Our political party informed us to come here,' said 48-year-old farmer Hiram Ariyadasa from north-central Sri Lanka, holding a banner that read "Hands off Sri Lanka".

'I don't know what it says. I don't know why I'm here,' he added, before JVP handlers ordered journalists to stop talking to demonstrators." (See this report on AlertNet)

Well, nothing new again I guess.

Excuse me while I go fall off my chair...he he he

No, I'm not dead..yet!

2006-09-23T14:09:00.000+05:30

For those of you who might care - no, I'm not dead (..yet! Though I have been considering the option of shooting myself in the head just to see if it would kill me - but the way my luck's going atm, it prob'ly wouldn't and instead would prob'ly only leave me just a bit more brain-damaged than I already am!) ;o(

Anyways, my internet provider's packed up and left (I assume) and so till the net is back up at home, no blogging.. but I will definitely be BACK (not that I would want you to hold your breath or anything!)

Ciao!

A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts

2006-09-17T17:11:00.000+05:30

This weekend I came across a story called "A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts" (written by Dennis Reader) and promptly bought it. It's a children's book - 13 pages with very little writing and LOTS of pictures! But I found the story so interesting I thought I'll share a shortened version of it here:

"Once, on a little island, shaded by a single coconut palm, there lived a happy man. Across the water lived a greedy king who was always looking at the little island thru his binoculars. The king wanted the man's little island for himself.

'Why do you want his little island?' asked the queen.

'Because I want that lovely bunch of coconuts,' said the king.

'That's all he's got,' said the queen.

'That's all I want,' said the king.

... One day the king took action. He summoned his champion Olympic swimmer, his head gardener, his pet vulture, his cousin the pole vaulter and the palace cook. 'I want that island,' said the king. 'One of you must get it for me.' He pointed to the swimmer. 'You first.' ...

The champion Olympic swimmer didn't really want to go, but the king's word was law and so he dived into the water... But when he reached the little island, the man hit him with a coconut. The Olympic champion swam back with a bump on his head...

[the gardener tunnel-ed his way to the island, the vulture flew to the island, the cousin pole-vaulted to the island, the cook sailed there with her most terrible trifle, but they all suffered the same fate - they were all hit by coconuts and sent packing.]

The greedy king looked all about him. he had lost his champion Olympic swimmer, his head gardener, his pet vulture, his cousin the pole vaulter and even the palace cook.

'I'd like to come over and talk peace,' shouted the king. The man smiled and beckoned him across.

'You put up a good fight,' said the king. 'Yes,' said the man. "Have some coconut.' And they ate the last one from the tree.

'He seems a nice fellow,' said the king to the queen. 'I won't take his island after all.'

'Because he's a nice fellow?' asked the queen.

'No,' said the king. 'Because he hasn't got any more coconuts.'"

The story ends with the king watching the man sitting on his island under an de-coconut-ified palm tree.

BUT there is a twist.

What the king does not see is a stash of coconuts almost as tall as the man's house hidden behind his house, well away from the king's line of vision.

None of the violence worked, but the peace seemed to. Yet, while the 'peace talk' was going on, all along there was that HUGE stash of coconuts hidden from view.

Made me wonder how many other people could be out there who stashed piles of lovely coconuts away from view while they talked peace in full view of the rest of the world?

And more laughs!

2006-09-12T10:06:00.000+05:30

Following on from Sam's hilarious post..thought I'd continue the trend of Udurawana stories ;o)

Udurawana goes to the doctor. The doctor asks "what will happen if one of your ears was cut off?"

"I'll stop hearing from one ear sir," Udurawana answers. "What if both were cut?" "Then I'll be blind sir." "How is that?" the doctor asks. "because then my glasses will fall off sir."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A tourist from the US asked Udurawana: "Any great man born in this village?"

Udurawana : "no sir, only small babies"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Udurawana was doing an experiment with a cockroach. He first cut one of its legs and said "walk, walk" and the cockroach walked. Then he cut a second leg and said the same. The cockroach walked. Then he cut the third leg and said the same. Finally he cut its fourth leg and ordered it "walk!" But the cockroach didn't walk. Suddenly Udurawana said loudly, "I found it. If we cut a cockroach's four legs, it becomes deaf."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Interviewer: just imagine your in 3rd floor, it caught fire and how will you escape? Udurawana : simple. I will stop my imagination!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Udurawana was filling up an application form for a job. He filled the columns titled NAME, AGE, ADDRESS etc. Then he came to the column Salary Expected: After much thought he wrote: Yes

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Udurawana proposed to a woman. She said "yes if you bring me a pair of crocodile boots."He sets off to Africa and disappears. Finally a search team found him hunting a huge crocodile. He walked over to the reptile, checked its legs and angrily exclaimed "71st and again bare feet."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once Udurawana driving his car with one of his friends there were a big traffic jam because an accident was ahead.His friend asked " Udurawana what's the mishap ?" Udurawana replied " no mishap, just a lorry and bus hap "

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Udurawana rushed back angrily to the grocery shop from where he had purchased a packet of butter a few minutes ago. "Where is my free gift?" he shouted at the shopkeeper. "But Sir, there is no free gift on the purchase of butter," the shopkeeper answered politely. "Don't fool me," replied udurawana, "it is clearly written on the packet of the butter 'Cholesterol free' but you gave me only butter".

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Udurawana got up in the middle of the night to answer the telephone.

"Is this one one one one?", asks the voice. "No, this is eleven eleven" Udurawana answers.

"Are you sure it isn't one one one one?" "No, this is eleven eleven." Udurawana answers.

"Well, wrong number, sorry to have woken you up on the middle of the night."

"That's all right, mister. I had to get up to answer the telephone anyway," Udurawana answers.

That's all folks!

Boiling the Frog..what does it mean??

2006-09-09T16:28:00.000+05:30

Recent convo with a friend ran thus:

Friend: bla bla bla..it's a classic example of boiling the frog I tell you!..bla bla

Me: Wait! What does 'boiling the frog' mean?

Friend: Oh. You say it to mean sorta culturing people to think or feel a certain way. Without them knowing that this is being done to them. Ok?

Me: Ok. But what does the phrase itself mean? Why frog? Why not..er..boiling the ant? Or elephant?

Friend: Dunno. That's the phrase. So listen.. bla bla bla.

The convo ended thus. My question then was where is this phrase rooted??

And at last I've found the answer!

Apparently (I've not tried this and have no wish to and hence will rely on hearsay) if you throw a frog into a pot of boiling water it'll try to jump out cos it'd rather not get boiled to death. But if you throw it into cold water and slowly bring the water to boiling point it will not realize it is overheating and will die.

Apparently this is cos frogs are cold-blooded and so takes on the temperature of its surroundings. Hence the frog will continue to warm, adjusting to the temperature of the slowly boiling water till it overheats.

So, this could work in terms of implicit prejudices- over-exposure to the same bias can cement it unknowingly or at least till it's too late.

Let's see if this works in other contexts:

If someone (let's say a govt for the lack of a better example) announces: Today you will go to war. Today your loved ones will kill people. Today your loved ones will possibly die.

There could possibly be lotsa people jumping up and down protesting just as the frog will try to jump out of the boiling water.

BUT if someone (let's use say the govt again! Just for fun!) were to say it thus: people such as you and I have been wronged. They're being hurt and continue to be hurt (by whatever way). So let us go save them. Let us go defend them. Now, that that is done, let us go see if we can defend some other parts/ peoples. Some of your loved ones can die doing this. Let us go on an offensive to retake what is yours and mine. It is only cos of your loved ones that today we have what we have. Let us thank those who died for us.

The frog never really stood a chance, did he? Poor sucker.

Now, this works with frogs cos of their cold-blooded nature. But we humans are warm-blooded creatures. Therefore we should not (biologically) take on the temperature of our surroundings.

Now think.

Warm-blooded? Cold-blooded?

Frog? Human?

Yellow to Red to Orange

2006-09-04T22:51:00.000+05:30

It's weird how you wake up in the morning and go about your day not knowing that you're going to meet someone and when you meet him, he'll say something to you and BOOM! your life will change.

This is what happened last Friday.

And when you wake up the next day you realize that everything in your life has been stupid, stupid, stupid

It's like life barrells down in yellows and then someone comes along and leaks a bit of red into it and it all turns orange and there's nothing you can do about it except see everything else for the rest of your life through that orange, orange haze

And I have finally understood most of the song Misere (Cat Empire):

/Do you ever look around/ turn your ear to the ground/ show your face to the sky/ on a night when the skies echo sounds/ from inside of your mind/ on the stage that you shone/ where the sun did become you/ and move with your thoughts/ through the sighs and the scenes/ of the worlds you have seen/ and the sights that have been/ your reflection in shadows and dreams?/

Did you ever see a man/ who did walk down the street/ white robe with no shoes on his feet/ and on top of his head place a box/ with two slits/ and the sign from his neck said/ ‘I do not exist’/ or a woman who could not remember/ her name/ did stutter and stutter/ again and again/ and saw you and called you her son/ her eyes said/ ‘my being is gone/ but still I’m not dead’?/

/Miserere/

/Have you ever seen a sound/ have you listened to an image/.../ have you ever told a lie/ that was true more than truth/ because truth it had lied/ all its life when it spoke to you?/ And what did it say/ it is that it is this/ this goes here here is there/ it is not yes it is/ it was dulling your senses/ your eyes they were bound/ have you ever my friends/ been looking around?/

/And the other replies/ with a wave of a hand/ I am already here/ in this promised land/ but not by a god and not by a king/ and not by a spirit/ deep from within/ I am here/ because a miracle’s a whim/ it’s a flash of glory/ it’s an empty tin/ and maybe might lets you in/ not to save you/ but to keep on looking/

/Miserere/

/Do you ever look around/ and find what is yet to be found?/

And so henceforth, through this newly acquired orange haze I will notice the man who does not exist, the woman who exists without a being, the truth that has (so badly) dulled my senses cos a miracle is indeed a (very) empty tin and I've now realized that it's there not to save you but to only make you keep looking.

And hopefully everytime I want more I'll remember to stop to look around; to see that which I am looking for.

Finally!! A Review of The Banana Tree Crisis!

2006-09-02T16:36:00.000+05:30

The Banana Tree Crisis, the book I've been going on about was reviewed last Sunday (27 Aug) in the Sunday Times (Plus Section - Books) by Ayesha Inoon.

See the review HERE!!

Enjoy! ;o)

A National Government? No, no, it's a PLOT!

2006-09-01T01:55:00.000+05:30

SB Dissanayake sees a plot in MR's invitation to the UNP to form a national government. Give me a sec, I need to go laugh.

Yesterday's Daily Mirror gives SB's analysis of the motivation behind MR's invitation "as far as [he] can see, this is an attempt to create unnecessary rifts within the [UNP]" followed by "the President was planning to go for a snap general election by April next year, after weakening the UNP." As far as he can see? It certainly can't be very far then.

The primary problem here apparently is that MR's letter was sent to Karu J and not "the leader" himself. So again for the UNP, it's all about the party & its leadership first, the country second. (Was it possible MR sent Karu J the letter cos Ranil was abroad at the time? Noooooo, not possible. What is possible is it that it is all a PLOT!)

National governments are usually formed when a country is faced with a threat/catastrophe. In such a context, the democratic principle of having a 'strong' opposition doesn't apply since unity is needed to first face the threat. MR is asking for a national government now cos this is precisely what Sri Lanka is facing right now - the first "thing-to-do" in everyone's agenda is an end to the "national question" . At least I would hope it is the first.

Surprisingly, the JVP & JHU came up with winners this time around - "The JHU said it would welcome the President’s move for a national government..." & even better from Anura Kumara Dissanayake "the structure of the proposed national government is not important. Only the objective is important. A national consensus is needed to defeat terrorism and build ethnic harmony among all the communities" (both from The Daily Mirror, 28 Aug) but the surprise was shortlived for now it seems the JVP is saying no, no, not till you do exactly as we say first!

In an article in The Sunday Times (27/08), the writer talks of the 1965 national govt - the UNP, under Dudley Senanayake, won the most number of seats but it wasn't enough to form a govt - & hence the national govt. This national govt consisted of (I quote):

* K.M.P. Rajarathne, the symbol of Sinhala extremism,

* S.J.V. Chelvanayakam, the symbol of Tamil extremism,

* G.G. Ponnambalam, who had once asked for fifty-fifty representation in Parliament,

while

* Philip Gunawardena, the 'Father of Socialism' in Sri Lanka,

* J.R. 'Yankee Dickie' Jayewardene, the greatest proponent of the open market economy

were in the same cabinet.

That govt stayed in office for its 5 full years.

(Sourced: Sunday Times (27 Aug) - "An Exemplary Political Guide" by Dr K.Kodithuwakku)

But today's UNP? Still "considering" the issue of national govt to see if "[MR's] policies tally or have only little difference with our policies" (Tissa Attanayake) though GL Pieris said on Tue "we should assist the government in power, to arrive at a solution." Then today SB's discovery of MR's Plot.

I would have hoped the UNP would learn from its ancestors. But then again, how does one learn from ancestors it never knew? How could one learn from ancestors when the pot is so mixed up with all the hopping around people seem to do these days that they themselves would have no idea who their ancestors were?

Child Sex Tourism (CST) in Sri Lanka

2006-08-24T19:03:00.000+05:30

Recently the Sri Lankan Tourist Board & UNICEF launched the ‘Zero Tolerance for Child Sex Tourism’ campaign in Sri Lanka.

CST rarely happens cos a 'tourist' looking for sex happen upon a child & offers him/her a gift in return for the favour – though it apparently does. It’s a wide-scale problem cos of the commercial nature it has taken – a ‘business’ run by a person ‘employing’ children & selling them off with a tidy commission for himself. There are even employees to ‘market’ the children. Apparently there are websites where paedophiles can actually ‘order’ children –by colour, height, age–I can’t verify that at this point though. There isn’t much that gets more twisted than this!

SL Stats: 100,000 children (6-14 yrs) are kept in brothels; an additional 5,000 children (10-18 years) work in tourist areas. (Sourced NCMEC)

The 'Zero Tolerance' campaigns through TV/radio ads(see pic), billboards, banners, car stickers, flyers, in-flight mags & disembarkation cards which publicize the msg. Well, kudos for the initiative. But, is it enough?

To see these ads, banners, etc one must already be in SL; to see the in-flight magazines one must already be in-flight! Would a paedophile read the notice & get off the flight or take a return flight back or just be extra careful? It is an underground trade after all! And how many peoples would arrive for a sunny holiday & suddenly be tempted to use a child for sex?

Realistically, without the poverty issue being resolved it’s unlikely there’ll be a significant change. CST is an underground trade – and will continue to be so. Skills training is catching around fast so there is hope!

Other Do-ables:

1. A tip-off system - tip offs to authorities who act IMMEDIATELY

2. Ban paedophiles. How? Stamping a holiday visa on arrival may encourage tourism, but it also encourages convicted paedophiles (either in their native countries or elsewhere). Technology which link international offender databases do exist. Scan a passport – scroll down past sexual offences – & wave him bye-bye!

3. Most importantly - empowering children. As Yasmin Haque (SL Unicef) said– “We…hope…the children…are able to say ‘no’…that they feel safe in saying ‘no’ to being pulled into the sex industry.” (my emphasis)

The ‘Zero Tolerance’ campaign needs to be commended for drawing attention to the issue. But we need MORE. Fast. Where are the funds? How about the private sector?

How much would it cost SL to gain access to such technology?

How much would it cost SL in the loss of childhoods? In traumatized future generations?

Must we sell our children to boost our economy?

Papers due..aarrrrrrgggghhhhhh!

2006-08-22T17:03:00.000+05:30

Sorry, there won't be much blogging in the coming few days.. 2 papers due on Monday!!

aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!

Another Sri Lankan First!!

2006-08-20T08:21:00.000+05:30

An hour ago AlertNet reported this:

"Long associated with sectarian violence in the Middle East, the suicide attack has been refined by Sri Lanka's secularist Tamil Tiger rebels into a sophisticated weapon of war.

Analysts generally agree that the Tigers pioneered the use of the concealed suicide bomb vest -- a technology now used to deadly effect across the world.

'There is no doubt about it, they have perfected the art of the suicide bomb,' said one Western diplomat.

'Security experts say the Tamils have adapted the strategy to battles on land and, most notably, at sea, where suicide "swarm tactics" against the Sri Lankan navy have been highly effective.

A survey of suicide attacks worldwide between 1980 and 2003 found that 24 percent were the work of the Tigers, outpacing such Middle Eastern armed movements as Hamas and Islamic Jihad." (My emphasis)

Another Sri Lankan FIRST!!

Painting:
The Scream,
Edvard Munch

Finally!!

2006-08-19T16:50:00.000+05:30

AND I've finally updated my profile!!

I forgot to be eclectic!! ;o)

2006-08-19T16:12:00.000+05:30

You know what I realized today?? This blog, since of late, has become more politically-oriented and not at all eclectic as I had intended!!

Oh, what tragedy!

Henceforth, I shall endeavour to keep future posts as eclectic as possible!

(ok, you can stop celebrating now)

AND I got that book of short stories (The Banana Tree Crisis) yesterday! Await my review (unbiased I promise!!)!

What happened in Sri Lanka Yesterday

2006-08-17T22:10:00.000+05:30

This is what happened in Colombo, Sri Lanka yesterday:

"On Thursday, around 1,000 people marched in Colombo then gathered in a park to urge an end to the fighting. Reuters journalists said scuffles broke out between the peace activists and hardline Buddhist monks who oppose concessions to the rebels.

The scuffles turned into an open fight after the shaven-headed, saffron-robed monks took over the stage, forcing religious leaders from Hindu, Christian and Muslim communities as well as other Buddhist monks to flee.

'They were saying we should go to war,' said pro-peace monk Madampawe Assagee. 'We like to listen to other opinions so we let them do that but then they started fighting and we couldn't control some of our people.' There were no reports of serious injuries."

Full report here.

It's not the scuffle I find so bloody ridiculous. It's these three words: hardline Buddhist monks.

I thought Buddhists were advised to take the middle path, to not go to extremes, to say no to violence.

Guess I thought wrong.

OR maybe Buddhism gives different advise to those monks who live in temples and those who sit in Parliament? That must be it. So no worries then.

And in other news, the South African cricket team has flown home due to a security report on the state Sri Lanka is at the moment. Today's Daily News headlined the departure as "Shame: South African cricketers chicken out" while the Daily Mirror stated the South African team flew out "amid fears of losing rather than bombs."

To all of us who looked forward to the cricket, after all the endless reports of killing - what disappointment. We, who've lived all, if not most, of our lives during the war, the security situation is not one that makes us think of fleeing the country asap (if we possibly could). This in itself is sad cos to some extent it means we're immune to violence. And even more sadly, there are so many people for whom the war is "in the North" and of no real concern - unless a bomb blast in Colombo either injures/ kills a loved one or catalyses a curfew when they were so looking forward to going out clubbing..what tragedy! *Manshark rolling eyes* (not a pleasant sight!)

To most non-Sri Lankans, or even Sri Lankans who've left the country, fighting in Jaffna, fighting maybe even 300 or 400km away is so scary they'll be shitting in their pants. *Manshark rolling eyes again* So how can you blame the South Africans?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a postscript to the above post.

I just read this (the article on the South Africans leaving SL) - the website title should have alerted me - but guess I was a bit slow today. Anyways, this article claims the South Africans left SL cos "the past happenings in South Africa indicates that some political elements in the country having a hidden political agenda in promoting and sympathizing with the LTTE Tamil terrorists. The top ranking murders of LTTE have been given rousing welcomes in South Africa. Is this plot a part of their hidden agenda to provide undue publicity to ruthless LTTE terrorists who don’t have a scant respect to the human lives and children rights."

Where/ what do these fuckwits crawl out of?? Seriously.

The CPA said..in Memory of K. Loganathan

2006-08-16T19:02:00.000+05:30

The Centre for Policy Alternatives (CPA) said:

"We will have a demonstration this Wednesday (16th August) at 4: 30 pm at Lipton Circus to protest against the ongoing violence here. For this week we would like to ask everyone participating to do a board of their own focusing on a person, friend, individual or any other group that have been killed or assassinated because of ethnic conflict.

We will do about 15 with names of people who have been killed for those who do not have time to do their own. Please do one of your own choice if you have any. We would like to focus mostly on unarmed, civilian activists, politicians who have tried to intervene in this conflict and have been killed as a result.

This protest is in the memory of Kethesh Loganathan who was killed this Saturday and the many others like him.

Please bring any one else who may be interested in coming."

A Story from Another World

2006-08-16T14:39:00.001+05:30

I don't know why I'm writing this blog and this story, but I needed to - perhaps cos I think could this have been my sister? My fiance's sister? My best friend? Me?? In another life?

The year was 2004.

There was a teenager called Atefah Sahaaleh who was 16 years old and lived in Iran. She had lost her mother to a car crash as a child after which her father spiralled into drug addiction. Her life, amongst the teenage angst we all went through/ are going through, consisted of cooking and cleaning for her grandparents. A psychologist who examined her reported that she was desperately looking for love. Not an unusual story.

On a previous occassion after being seen in a car with a boy, her chastity was called into question. She received 100 lashes as punishment.

When she was 13 she started a relationship with a man, a taxi driver by profession, who was quite a bit older than her (some reports say he was about 51 years old). This relationship, if it was of a sexual nature, would be - in most, if not all, Western countries - what is called statutory rape. She claimed she had been raped by the 51 year old man - but rape is almost impossible to be made out in Iran where the age of consent for a girl is 9 years. Let's assume, there was no rape and she had had a "relationship" with this man. It's still an adult taking advantage of a child. It's a desperate little girl looking for love - from wherever she can find it.

Under the Islamic law code in Iran, a girl in a sexual 'relationship', over the age of consent (9 years) takes the responsibility of having "tempted" a man.

Her documents, for some reason, stated her as 22 - the legal age after which the death sentence can be imposed as punishment. She was convicted of committing acts acts which were 'incompatible with chastity'.

One of her other "crimes" was arguing with the Judge at her trial. (I guess sort of like SB Dissanayake, in Sri Lanka, who was given 2 years RI for contempt of court - an unfair sentence in terms of precedent, in general legal opinion.) The difference though? Atefah had no access to legal counsel.

She was convicted and sentenced to death. The Supreme Court upheld the sentence.

Where were you two years ago (Aug 15th) yesterday??

Two years ago yesterday Atefah was dragged through the town square and hanged - the noose applied by the trial judge himself.

Human Rights live on. So does cultural relativism.

For more info.

If Children = Terrorists - what is "right"??

2006-08-15T08:36:00.000+05:30

This is the ethical dilemma that I cannot think my way out of.

The LTTE claims that the SL forces bombed an orphanage and have killed at least 61 schoolgirls and injured at least 150 more.

The govt categorically denies this allegation.

"It is a lie to say that schoolchildren were targeted," government spokesperson Chandrapala Liyanage told the AFP news agency. "The air force had bombed a LTTE training centre. We don't know if they had moved child soldiers there" - I've sourced this from the BBC.

I think I can safely make these two assumptions:

1. Terrorism should never be tolerated.

2. Children have nothing to do with war - they should be kept as far away from it as possible under the circumstances.

BUT IF (I'm saying IF here so don't get your pants in a twist!) children are/ were being used by terrorists, not as shields, but as cadres - they're being trained to become potential terrorists. If the children are of an age between 15-18 where if they are ~~brainwashed~~ "trained" well enough they are potential suicide bombers, is it still wrong if they are taken out by security forces?

What does everyone think??

What is the "right" and/or "ethical" answer?

What is the "political" and/ or "legal" answer?

Does anyone care about what is right or wrong when it comes to politics and the military and war?

Liberty Plaza Bomb Blast

2006-08-14T15:55:00.000+05:30

The bomb blast near the Liberty Plaza shopping centre, which has taken 7 lives and injured at least 17 is said to have been targeted at a military convoy which was escorting a VIP according to TamilNet news while the Pakistan Foreign Ministry confirmed their Ambassador to SL was targeted.

The blast "came after the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) said Air Force jets bombed an orphanage in the northeast, killing 43 schoolgirls aged 15-18 and injured 60" according to AlertNet. The military confirmed there had been air raids but denied knowledge of such an incident according to BBC though the LTTE Peace Secretariat photos show otherwise.

The BEST book EVER is in stores NOW!!!

2006-08-12T15:38:00.000+05:30

The best book of short stories EVER!!

You can get it at the nearest Vijitha Yapa Bookshop or online here!!

Enjoy!!

Lessons to Learn, Questions to Ponder

2006-08-10T11:02:00.000+05:30

The two films I watched over the weekend were both documentaries and screened here as part of the Melbourne Int'l Film Festival this year.

Iraq in Fragments was a movie in three parts - Mohammed of Baghdad, Sadr and the Kurds of the South. Mohammed of Baghdad is an 11 year old boy who works for a Sunni man as an apprentice. He has failed grade 1 three times and is repeating it again now. He knows only how to write his own name. He keeps dropping out of school so he can work. The segment ends showing him working at a new place - having given up school completely apparently - where he is very happy. In between running around working and getting into mischief, this boy listens to the passionate conversations of the adults around him - most of which claim that while Saddam Hussain gave them no freedom, Iraq was in a much better state then; now Baghdad is not a city with rivers and green trees - it's all red, red, red and bland and people are suffering much more because there are no jobs.

What stuck with me about this part of the film - Mohammed is asked by his school teacher what he wants to be when he grows up - a doctor, an engineer, a pilot? He says he wants to be a pilot cos then he can fly up, up where he can see birds flying and from where he can look at all the beautiful countries that exist; he says he will leave all the ugliness in Iraq behind and fly down into the most beautiful country he sees.

The second segment covers the story of a Shiite youth who is taking on a leadership position in his area. The third segment is about an elderly father and his very young teenage son who are kurdish. The boy talks of going to school and the plans he and his bestfriend has - of becoming a doctor. Later he has quit school and is working in the fields cos his father is too old to manage by himself and there are other siblings in the family to be supported.

What stuck with me about this part of the movie is the father says there has been too much blood spilt between the Kurds, the Sunni and the Shiite people in Iraq. The only way to have peace is to cut the country into three pieces.

Off camera, a little child questions his statement - "Iraq is a country. How can you cut it into pieces? With a saw?"

The second movie I watched was A Hero's Journey - a documentary narrated by Xanana Gusmao - the man behind the birth of the nation state of Timor Leste (translated as "East - where the sun rises"). This is by far the most beautiful movie I have ever watched - in terms of photography and content. It's extremely moving and I cried through many parts of the movie and after it, stood in line to talk to the producer (who was there) about getting the DVD cos it's a movie to be watched everytime one feels the weight of the world on one's shoulders.

In the movie, we are taken, by Gusmao, to the mountains in Timor Leste, covered in misty clouds, where he hid during his guerilla days, and he talks of trying to sleep there, his feet numb in the freezing conditions; he introduces us to an elderly lady who looked after him for almost a year when he had Malaria and wanted to die. He introduces and hugs the man who betrayed him to the Indonesian forces which led to Gusmao's arrest, charged with subversion, deprived of his defense & sentenced to life imprisonment. We're taken to the prison where he served 7 years before his release after the referendum. He talks to the villagers of a village where five men were taken to an open field by Indonesian forces and the villagers were forced at gun point to gather around - then relatives of the chosen five men, mostly fathers and brothers, were asked to shoot them. Afterwards, female relatives of the chosen five men were asked to stab the men just in case the shots hadn't killed them. The village name starts with "M" - I can't remember it now as I cried right thru this bit. There were many such inhuman massacres in East Timor leading upto the referendum and right after it. For more info on the 24-year conflict go to Gendercide Watch.

There is so much to this film that I can go on for days and days. Int'l release of the movie is being sought at the moment and I hope and pray all of you out there will get a chance to watch it too.

This is what is called inspiration. What stuck with me most about this movie - Gusmao takes us to his Presidential Palace - a bullet-pock-marked building that's falling apart - perhaps under all that it has witnessed.

Gusmao is very aware of the responsibility that weighs on his shoulders - but he is optimistic. He says cheerfully, "when you dream, dream big."

As a Sri Lankan, and with all the baggage that comes with it, these two movies made me realize just how young I am and yet how very very old.

Lessons to learn...and ...Questions to ponder...

Me Back!

2006-08-09T19:18:00.001+05:30

And...I'm BACK!!

This pic is SO not me. Anyways, I watched two movies last Sat (what? what? WHAT?? I'm a geek, so what??):

1. Iraq in Fragments (Dir: James Longley, 2006), which won 3 awards at this year's Sundance Film Festival and

2. A Hero's Journey (Dir: Grace Phan, 2006), the BEST MOVIE I've ever watched!!

Will write all about them in the next blog..It's well-after midnight and my tummy's making rumbly-tumbly noises - dinner calls!

;o( ;o( ;o( ;o( ;o(

2006-08-07T18:56:00.000+05:30

Me feeling down and out... so no blogging ;o(

Buddhism

2006-08-03T18:58:00.000+05:30

I was doing what I do best - reading random blogs - when I came across Cynically Yours' blog and read it with growing shock.

A few readers of the above said blog had asserted that such sightings happen not only in SL (or Buddhists) and exist in other parts of the world with other religions. In fact, the bloger herself has had to clarify that she was not talking just of Sri Lanka. There are many religions in the world which are based on faith. Buddhism, as far as I've understood it, is not in anyway based on faith - it's a philosophy which rationalizes a way of life. Therefore, comparisons to beliefs that are held by religions based on faith are unequal and thereby void.

The Buddha was a human being who developed his mind to a point where he was able to let go of the trappings of life. It was he himself who advised and encouraged those who chose the Buddhist way of life to take his word and use it as a springboard to understand a certain concept instead of blind faith in his word. This is the basis of the importance of living a "Buddhist" life rather than visiting the temple everyday to accumulate "merit."

We Buddhists worship the Buddha, in respect for imparting to us a philosophy for living a certain way of life, and lay flowers/ light lamps at his feet, to remind ourselves of the impermanence of the material aspects of life. We do not worship the Buddha or light lamps merely to accumulate "merit." This is why the claim of seeing "budu ras emitting from cement statues...[which]...are supposed to be symbolic" (as Cynically Yours has said so well) is so against everything that is Buddhist and is shocking.

This brings me to a point which has continued to bother me, for a very long time and more so in the last couple of years, about Buddhists in Sri Lanka. I am not talking of Buddhists elsewhere because I don't know enough about their beliefs and traditions to make such comments.

Section 9 (Ch 2) of the Sri Lankan Constitution reads "The Republic of Sri Lanka shall give to Buddhism the foremost place and accordingly it shall be the duty of the State to protect and foster the Buddha Sasana...". Therefore Buddhism is given "the foremost place" in most things including poltical decisions. However, I wonder if Buddhism is given the foremost place in the homes of a lot of Buddhist people?

The JHU lobbied, with much support behind them, to have anti-conversion legislation changed to safeguard Buddhism in Sri Lankan society. But what are we trying to safeguard when we say safe guarding "Buddhism"?

One of the strongest memories I have from my childhood is sitting in the Budu Ge at my grandmother's house listening to the soft-spoken intonations of pirith. Even today, the fragrance of incense reminds me of the getting-dressed-for-school time of my teenage years and the memory of my grandmother sitting on her low stool in front of the Buddha Statue taking pansil.

One of the most important advises, among so so many, my grandmother imparted to me, was to take Pansil every morning - not to receive "merit" but to remind myself of what I believe in as I go through the rest of my day. As years passed, I found that I could not reconcile starting the day with "I shall not take the life of a living being" and eating the flesh and blood of a being whose life was taken by another for my enjoyment/ consumption.

What bothers me about Sri Lankan Buddhists is this - whether they expressly take Pansil everyday or not, pansil is the minimum a lay-Buddhist would, or seek to, uphold in their everyday life.

In a country where Buddhism is given the foremost place, in a country where Buddhists are bothered by the fast conversions happening around them, why are we so ready to preserve something, of which the majority of Buddhists cannot seem to uphold the most basic of principles?

Please note here that I am not in anyway advocating policies and legislation advocating "vegetarianism for Buddhists" - for one thing, that is against the very principles of Buddhism (one need not be ordered or told what to do - it must come from within with one's own understanding) and for another, I am not some fanatic trying to force people to accept my ideas..at least not yet.

I am merely asking why it is that we are striving so hard to preserve in society that which we cannot seem to preserve in our very own homes?

Sorry this is so long!

Ski Pics!!

2006-08-01T21:46:00.000+05:30

I can't be bothered writing anything at all today cos I am tired...and unfortunately I have become incredibly irritating to myself..pity you can't run away from yourself ;o(

So, to save all you poor souls too from my irritating self today.. Here we go with the much awaited pics from the SKIING (of course all you good people out there were waiting for these - you just didn't know it!)

...Ready

..Steady (err.. maybe not)

GO!

What a great day that was!

Manslaughter is NOT Murder

2006-07-29T13:12:00.000+05:30

I'm amazed by the number of people who have said to me (up till now from just yesterday!!) - "this is why Sri Lanka needs the death penalty - cos the courts don't give good judgments! Did you hear that the murderer in the Jonsson case got only 12 years jail time and a fine??"

Why do people take what one person says and run instead stopping to find out the facts??

The guy who was found guilty of killing the Jonsson girl in SL was not found guilty of murder. He was found guilty of "culpable homicide" - this is what is more commonly known as manslaughter.

YES, there is a difference.

Prosecution must show intention (=mens rea) to prove murder as opposed to manslaughter. Manslaughter is, in simple terms, where a killing happens, but without intention to kill. Of course this is a subjective element - though generally it's decided on the principle of "would a reasonable person..." which is meant to minus the subjective element.

However, in manslaughter too there could be intention present - called voluntary manslaughter - where there is a mitigating factor in the relevant facts such as provocation as opposed to involuntary mansalughter where the killing is due to, say, negligence.

In the Jonsson case, the judges found that the prosecution was not successful in showing intention and hence the final judgement of manslaughter - hence the sentence of 12 years + fine. If murder had been found - yes, life/ death sentence. (Please note that nowhere on this blog have I said that the judgment is right/ wrong - this is merely a clarification of the facts as they stand now.)

It's annoying when you have to point these little things out to people not cos they don't/ didn't know (which is fair), but cos they didn't actually find out the facts of the case or the judgment - and are merely angry cos they heard from someone else that a murderer in SL got only this. One of these days, I swear, I will murder (mens rea present!) one of these fuckwits out of sheer irritation (although I wonder if it would hold up in court if my defence were to plead involuntary manslaughter with the provocation factor being idiot-cy of killed party??)

The Star!! For your viewing pleasure..

2006-07-26T09:22:00.000+05:30

While I'm out of sorts, thought I'll upload some pics of Chico, the most adorable dog in the world, for your viewing pleasure:

--------------------------------------------

This is a post-script - apparently I've violated some intellectual property rules ;o)

The above photographs were taken by Turtle.

Turtle's Eyes ;o)

2006-07-25T15:35:00.000+05:30

Henceforth I shall I write in a bigger font in an effort to preserve Turtle's eyesight.

I'm sick! ;o( But the skiing was great!!

2006-07-24T11:29:00.000+05:30

Back from the skiing which was FANTASTIC!! I loved it! ;o)

But am v.v.v sick with the flu hence am gonna head off to bed and drink Peyawa for the rest of the day!

Poor me!

Skiing, Skiing, SKIING!!

2006-07-20T18:01:00.000+05:30

Why oh why have I written two such looooooong posts today?

Cos tmrw I'm going skiing, yes, skiing (!!) and will not be back till Sunday and I would not dream of leaving all you people without ~~good~~ fantastic reading material for that long!

So while you read, I will be skiing (yes, I do enjoy rubbing it in)

PS: Plz pray that I will not break my neck

PPS: You better pray I don't break my neck and die cos how else would you be able to get such an intimate peek into complete psychosis?

PPPS: For those of you who don't know, psychosis is a condition defined as "severe mental derangement involving loss of contact with reality."

PPPPS: Yes, ok, I will shut up now.

Life and Relationships

2006-07-20T16:40:00.000+05:30

This is a photo taken by Pradeep Jeganathan at the Gallery Cafe, Colombo, that appeared on his Flickr page ages ago, which completely arrested me the minute I saw it. Since then, I've been back to check out his many, many beautiful photos, but mostly to look at this pic again. Why? The photographer has called it 'lunchtime' (or maybe this is merely a description? I'm not sure here), but what the photo is, to me, a representation of Life.

Look at the photo for a moment - what do you see? The flower - centre-stage, lit up, beautiful. The ash tray and glass of water pales and are merely 'there'.

Now look again. Take a moment.

The ash tray stuck to the flower as close as it can, is unusual, unique, yet is in semi-shadow.

And in the glass of water, there is a tiny, tiny reflection of the flower.

Isn't this what life is like?

We are all so busy focusing on what is lit up (for us) and beautiful and centre-stage that we forget there are so many things that are in shadow that are perhaps begging for our attention and care too. And how many times in our lives do we take a moment to notice the little reflections in the water around us that our caused by ourselves?

Maybe it is because I have seen so many relationships break up, or have gone so far down the track towards break up, over little things like this that I saw "life" in this photo. But I'm not talking about just couples and marriages when I say relationships. I mean relationships in general - with your parents, siblings and friends.

Life is such that we get caught up in it, in the things that are lit up around us and forget those that are relatively in shadow. We rush through life oblivious to the reflections (however little) that are caused by ourselves.

What I have learnt in my 26 years of existence on this fast-rotating planet is this:

Focus on the flower, appreciate its beauty, but never, never forget the ashtrays in shadow and always, take a moment to notice the reflections in the water.

The 'Da Vinci Code' Movie Ban in Sri Lanka

2006-07-20T07:53:00.000+05:30

All righty, I'm utterly, completely sick and tired of being asked this question which a lot of people seem to find some thrill in asking me. Therefore I will say what I think on the issue with a warning: do not bloody ask me what I think about this EVER again.

The Question: Was it right to ban the Da Vinci Code movie in SL?

First let me put this into context. The Catholics Bishop Conference, in its letter to the President said

"The movie attacks the very roots of Christian faith and hurts the sentiments of all Christians," and that “it matters greatly to us as it adversely affects the most sacred beliefs of our people when it levels the charge that the Catholic Church is essentially a vast network founded on maintaining the lie of Jesus' Divinity…"

They also said the film must be banned urgently because “the book version has caused confusion between fact and fiction. It is manipulative and is an odious, false, unjust and irreverent portrayal of Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church. It attacks the very roots of our Christian faith and hurts the religious sensibilities of all Christians."

So what the Catholics Birshops Conference is saying is basically that Christians would take the film to be fact instead of the fictional garbage that is so often released by Hollywood and they would assume that Dan Brown’s novel, on which the film is based, is actually a book of fact – akin to a gospel. This is a fictional book, AKIN to Roald Dahl’s “The Witches” and Rowling’s “Harry Potter” series.

Do the religious leaders of SL really believe that the SL Christian community is made up of complete duds who cannot tell the difference between gospel and fiction? I have many, many Christian friends who would not give up or change their faith because they read something otherwise in a book or saw it in a film. What it comes down to is, can you not trust your followers to keep their faith?

In fact, the Auxiliary Bishop Marius Peiris of Colombo, the secretary general of the Bishops' conference, told Union of Catholic Asian News (UCA News) the film "depicts sheer blasphemy and outrageous interpretations of the Catholic faith…. [and said it was]an attempt by Hollywood to achieve ratings by using the Catholic Church."

The keyword here is “Hollywood.” Not BBC, not CNN, not even the Daily News (though the facts in that paper tends to relate more closely to what is a now a genre of writing known as “faction” – fiction based on a few facts..but that’s a different story altogether). There are very people who would take what Hollywood churns out to be the word of God - and those people who do, are not worth addressing in this time and space.

The most interesting statement on this issue, however, came from none other than the director of communications for the Colombo archdiocese, Father Sriyananda Fernando,when he told UCA News that "whenever the church is attacked by such sacrilegious books and films, it is up to the hierarchy to take the best possible action to protect their people {and on the issue of the film being allowed to be screened in Sri Lanka} it would have made the church an easy target of lies and deceit." All right that’s his opinion and I guess we must respect that.

The contention that banning the film in SL would stop the church from being made an easy target and the arguments of the Bishops Conference that the film would confuse the audience between fact and fiction not only underestimates the public’s level of intelligence, but more importantly their faith. But why I found the above statement by Father Fernando interesting (what I mean when I say interesting is that it made me laugh hard enough to fall off my chair) is this further statement from him. In regard to causing the curious to buy the book or watch the film on video, he said “we cannot stop people from reading the book or watching it on video disc. They must be mature enough to differentiate between fact and fiction," he said.

So only those buying the book or watching the film outside of the local cinema would need to use their maturity (not to mention intelligence and faith) to differentiate between fact and fiction?

The question often put to me at this stage of the argument is but what else could they do (other than banning the film) to make sure that those who MIGHT believe the film does not? It's a simple little concept called educating the public. They've made use of the media to express their reasons for banning to film - why not use the media (and more importantly churches) to emphasize the FICTIONAL quality and content of both the book and the film?

My final answer on this issue is merely this: if I were a Christian I would find it extremely insulting to think that the leaders of my religious faith think that my faith is so feeble and insubstantial that they feel they need to ban a fictional film to make sure I keep my faith.

Now, please don't ask me what I think on this matter again! Understand??

(Sorry this is so long!)

???

2006-07-19T18:59:00.000+05:30

Why does everyone seem to have a problem with how much Kumar Rupesinghe is earning??

I don't get it.

Sometimes I think Torture and Death is the best punishment!

2006-07-18T17:55:00.000+05:30

Human beings are the most cruel animals on earth. People like this should be tortured without mercy, I swear.

If you are sensitive, please skip this blog.

This is an article, which appeared in South African newspaper, The Daily Voice. I'm copying the article content here cos the uploaded is too small to read:

"Horrified Daily Voice readers are petitioning to put the owners of burned dog Tammy behind bars.

Animal lovers want the Cape Flats couple to receive the maximum possible punishment for setting their pet pitbull alight.

The heartless pair could face jail sentences of up to a year and fines of up to R200,000.

Beautiful Tammy was burned alive in her kennel this month.

The high-spirited dog used to jump over the fence into the neighbour's yard. But Tammy's carefree days came to an end when her owners decided to punish her.

They doused the dog's kennel with petrol and set it alight.

Thammy was badly scorched on her legs, face and belly, says Allan Perrins of the SPCA.

"Can you imagine being on fire for days on end?," he asks.

And she was also blinded.

Wept

Animal welfare workers wept when they found Tammy.

And Daily Voice readers phoned in wanting to adopt the poor creature.

But SPCA decided she had suffered too much for her to be kept alive.

There are already more than a thousand signatures on the petition.

"Animals cannot speak for themselves," says HIllary Faulman, who started the petition. "They are special creatures who deserve more respect."

To add your name to the petition e-mail Helen at hfaulman@bremner.uct.ac.za

Moragoda a sanctimonious humbug: Mohamed

2006-07-17T19:59:00.000+05:30

...ran the headline on one of yesterday's (Monday July 17th) front page stories on the Daily Mirror.

The article ran thus (this is an edited version of course!):

"Referring to a letter Mr. Moragoda reportedly sent to UNP leader Ranil Wickremesinghe...'There never was so outstanding an example of sanctimonious humbug,' Mr. Mohamed said."

"Mr. Mohamed explained that Mr. Moragoda had made a passionate appeal to members of the party, to rally round the leader, after sending a letter to deputy leader Karu Jayasuriya, in the form of an MoU, under which he supported the latter for his appointment as leader of the Opposition, if Mr. Jayasuriya took action to secure the appointment of himself as the deputy leader of the party. "

"In addition, Mr. Mohamed said that Mr. Moragoda deserves a very special accolade for his role in the unprecedented tragicomedy in the present state of affairs of the Colombo Municipal Council."

Isn't it SO refreshing when someone speaks their mind?? My faith in Sri Lankan politicians have been somewhat remedied..I think!

Clear Glass

2006-07-17T17:56:00.000+05:30

Guess what I did today???

I walked into a glass door cos I mistook it for thin air.

In my defense, it was very clean glass.

Under the circumstances, I would like to make a suggestion to all those people out there who own offices which have glass doors which are very clean: paste a bright red sign right in the centre of the door reading along the lines of "very clean glass - not thin air" so all the rest of us can not bash our brains out on them.

That'll be all for today!

..and speaking of hair!

2006-07-15T18:22:00.000+05:30

..so speaking of hair (in my second last blog) I just remembered something I did a couple of days ago which must be said here.

I decided to cut my hair and after much walking, finally found a place which didn't threaten to charge a government-clerk's-monthly-salary price to snip off my tresses.

So while I sat fighting (successfully!) the urge to swirl round and round on that turning chair (as I could have had I been 20 years younger!), the hair-dresser turned my face this way and that. Finally she sighed, pursed her lips in a satisfied manner and delivered the verdict:

"You must get a hair style that will minimise your nose and long chin."

OMG!! To think I had been going around all this time quite oblivous to my long chin and big nose! What tragedy! What humiliation!! What suffering on all those who were forced to look upon this tragic ugliness! Hence I decided on the spot that I must go under her ~~knife~~ scissors.

I have always believed that seeing as I have had the ~~good~~ fortune to be born in this world, I must do something worthwhile for mankind. Here was my opportunity! It would have been against everything I believed in, all that I held dear, against my very conscience to prolong the suffering of mankind (at least of those that have had the misfortune to meet me). It was time I put a stop to the suffering I had imposed on the world these 26 years by giving it no choice but to put up with my long chin and big nose. Therefore, going under this good lady's scissors was my selfless act for the world. Making sense so far? Perfectly.

So, half an hour later, most of my hair lay on the floor, I'm pretty sure I'd lost at least 2kgs in weight/ hair, and was positively sure that I could expect ~~divorce~~ engagement-breaking papers any day in the mail. To me, in all honesty, my chin and nose pretty much looked the same sizes as they had half an hour earlier.

Why am I writing this on my blog? Merely so that you, my friend (or random-blog-reader), will now have the opportunity to propose my name for the Nobel Peace Prize for my selfless act (or at least for the selfless intention behind the decision for the act).

I will now go Google some plastic surgeons in the region to make sure my chin is shortened and nose is "minimised" in time to make the Nobel Peace Prize Acceptance Speech.

Going Purple!

2006-07-15T18:20:00.000+05:30

Henceforth, I shall write in purple.

Well, at least, till I decide on a different colour.

On the verge of tearing out my hair

2006-07-15T16:45:00.000+05:30

An explanation for "Terrorism Legislation and 'Primitive' Punishments" of July 13:

The point I was really trying to make, in the midst of all that madness (sorry people!) would perhaps be better illustrated by a hypothetical example:

Premise 1: Country A has certain laws and punitive actions

Premise 2: Country B has difference laws and punitive actions

Premise 3: A, being the egotistical maniac it is, continuously declares that the laws, etc of B are barbaric (and even unacceptable in this world) and "primitive"

Intended Conclusion of A: A is so far more advanced than B could ever be and proud of it.

My question: but what if B, having learnt from the past, has evolved to its "primitive" laws, etc over the years? Then does that not make A's laws the "primitive" ones for they are still in the past (learning)??

Why do I get the feeling that this illustration makes no more sense, if not much more senseless, than my earlier blog??

Blogging

2006-07-13T15:46:00.000+05:30

All righty

It is 8.14pm Thursday.

On Friday (tomorrow) I have:
(1). Work from some ungodly hour till noon.
(2). A presentation to hopefully-my-future-research-project-supervisors at 1pm.
(3). An exam at 3pm.

It is now 8.16pm. What am I doing??!??!
Bloody blogging.

Hey! An unintended alliteration! ;o)

Terrorism Legislation and "primitive" punishments

2006-07-13T13:05:00.000+05:30

So it's a brand new day and it is ~~sunny~~ cloudy skies here Down Under. As per usual.

I think I've figured out how to write out one of the two concepts I was talking about yesterday (well, today v.v.v.early in the morning I guess). If you get bored easily, I would advise that you read the next para (= para 3 of this blog) and then go straight down to (let me go count now)..para 8.

There's all this terrorism legislation that's being enacted in some of the Western world. Some of the terms of the legislation is shocking from a basic-human-rights perspective, but quite easy to understand from a security, I'm-so-scared-I'm-wetting-my-pants perspective.

Let me first give you an idea of how dangerous some of these anti-terrorism laws are by some excerpts from the changes made to the Australian Criminal Code 1995 (Cth) in relation to terrorism offences.

S. 101.4 says someone who possesses a "thing" which is "connected with preparation for the engagement of a person in, or assistance in a terrorist act” is committing an offence. Definition of "a thing"?? Not defined. Further, the defendant bears the onus of proof to show lack of intention if such a "thing" is held to intend "to facilitate preparation for, the engagement of a person in, or assistance in a terrorist act" (S. 101.4(5)). What this means to me is, if a security official decides that I intend to assist a terrorist act by using the "thing" (which could be anything) I possess, I will be arrested.

Then S. 101.5 says that it is an offence to collect or make a document with which you "intend to facilitate preparation for, theengagement of a person in, or assistance in a terrorist act." Problem here, like with the above section, is that there's no definition of "collecting" or "making". The only thing that'll save me is if I can show that the collection/ making of the document/s was not "intended" for terrorist acts. Let's put this into a practical everyday situation. The LTTE has claimed that they are ready to attack the Sri Lankan forces with toxic weapons (see this article). I'm such a good researcher (not) that I manage to find info on these weapons and am filing these away in a bright purple file (what?? I can choose the colour I want!!) called "ingredients used for toxic weapons". A friend who knows this tips off the police. I am arrested. Now I must prove that I intended to use this info for an expose, for a newspaper article, to give in for a uni essay, etc. and not to make my own toxic bomb for a terrorist act. How??

Of course, I could have misunderstood the entire section and may have just gone off on a tangent boring you to death. ;o) If so, I apologize.

Eitherways (is it right to start a sentence/ new para with "eitherways"??), this is my point with this concept. Some measures need to be put in place to curb terrorism. Yes, agreed. And therefore, some of my fundamental freedoms (such as the freedom of movement), as I know them now, could be limited. However, this limitation brings with it the bonus of knowing that all those terrorists and possible terrorists, intending to indulge in terrorist acts, are being caught and dealt with, and hence I can go about my day without worrying about being incinerated or de-limbed by some random bomb.

What if, however, these security measures go so far as to severly undermine basic human rights (as the Western world sees it) by say, imposing punitive measures, such as, let's say for the sake of this argument, that if I'm found "intending" to use a "thing" for a terrorist act, my right hand will be chopped off. This is obviously sometime in the future (hopefully, I would have achieved Nirvana by then and will not be re-born in this mixed-up cruel world where people like me tend to randomly come up with concepts that make no sense anyone least of all me). Then at this point in time, would such punishments be accepted by people in the name of security? In the name of peace of mind?

So then, does this mean that the present States that impose such punishments for other offences such a murder and theft, right now, have them because they've already learnt from the past? And hence, does this make the "soft" punitive action (such as mere life sentences for murder or a few year in prison for theft) that other States impose "primitive" and "outdated"?

Does any of this make any bloody sense??

If you need to borrow my pen to stab me in the eye, don't feel bad. I completely understand.

The Concepts

2006-07-12T19:36:00.000+05:30

I'm obviously losing my mind. Or at least what was left of it.

The weirdest two concepts just occurred to me.. Extremely interesting..yet so very hard to think about and get around my head.. Gotta go think, think, think. But I'm too hungry right now to elaborate on this..or do any thinking for that matter! Dinner calls!

I will be back!!

Yeah, like you're going to hold your breath.

Terrorists

2006-07-10T14:57:00.000+05:30

I'm currently reading Sunlight on a Broken Column by Attia Hosain, a novel set in India during the 1930s during the struggle for Indian independence.

What one character says of those going about the struggle by using "terroristic" means is SO relevant in today's climate, I had to jot it down here:

"Children in politics, that is what terrorists are, heroic but misguided."

Random Blogs

2006-07-10T00:57:00.000+05:30

Ok..so I can't watch the soccer afterall..The wind is making SBS jump around..hence no soccer.. ;o( No Cannavaro.. Double ;o( It's 1-all and am comforting myself reading random blogs.

And what random blogs!

I've just read thru all the comments that this blog got and my head is spinning! It's weird though that people seem to keep writing - pulling this way and that so endlessly. But what's interesting is that of ALL those who've commented, only one blogger, "Sophist", has said something sane:

"Don’t forget that the war is a wonderful cover up for the fact that petrol is nearly a hundred bucks a litre, we can’t watch tv after 10 and my girlfriend can’t buy booze. Wake up and smell the Chinthanaya you daft Sinhala fucks…we voted for him no?"

I need to go think about that now.

Soccer Final

2006-07-09T20:03:00.000+05:30

So the soccer final is on today and I'm determined to stay up to watch it.. I planned on watching the 2 semi-finals, but when the alarm went off I sat up in bed and thought what the F#%* was I thinking setting my alarm for 4.30am (Melbourne time) to watch a bunch a men run around kicking a ball??

So why have I been drinking mug after mug of coffee to ensure my awake-ness for the final? I suspect it may have something to do with Italy.. The truth is, soccer, at least to me, is one of the most mind-numbingly boring sports I've ever watched..But Fabio Cannavaro? Now that is a completely different story, isn't it?? ;op

The UNP and the Peace Process

2006-07-08T14:51:00.000+05:30

The UNP came into power in 2001 on a platform of peace and end to the conflict. Subsequetly, they signed the CFA. Recently, as negotiations started falling apart between the present government and the LTTE, the UNP went as far as to ask the government to step down and let them take over so they can "bring peace."

In the middle of this week, the UNP, I guess in it's desperation to see peace in Sri Lanka, extended an olive branch to the government - drop the JHU and JVP, and the UNP will join the government in its peace efforts. The government invited the UNP leadership to talks.

Then yesterday, the UNP's feelings were hurt and angered by the President who had "lured" a UNP-er to the government ranks with a deputy ministership. Therefore, they (the UNP) were pulling out of the talks.

Is it just me, or is there a break down of logic here? The UNP wanted to join up with the government in its peace efforts TO ENSURE AN END TO KILLING AND BLOODSHED AND FIND A PEACEFUL SOLUTION. But all that goes out the window because the govt "lured" in one from the UNP ranks??

So does that mean that the first priority of the UNP is to make sure that those within their present ranks stay with them? Peace in the country plays second fiddle to this all-important priority?

I have heard the argument that the crux of the issue here is about trust - the govt went behind their back. Ok, I can see how that can make sense. But that still doesn't explain how an educated and intelligent lot (this is obviously a general assumption!) cannot see that there are two issues here - one, the peace process and two, building a trustworthy relationship with the govt.

If a UNP-er walked over to the other side, shouldn't the UNP be examining why one of theirs would do this? This is not the first UNP-er to cross over..hence isn't the root of the problem that UNP-ers feel they would be better off on the other side? Granted, there are a lot of people who would change political affiliations faster than their underwear at the promise of better positions. But isn't there also the question of earning loyalty? If the UNP leadership cannot earn the trust and loyalty of its members, how can it not expect frequent change overs?

And I STILL don't understand how a political party, who has claimed SO MANY times in the past, its enthusiasm to finding a peaceful solution to the conflict and has made pledges upon pledges to do what it can to help in this endeavour can throw it away on the basis of one man's decision to change political affilitations!