No Strings Attached

Seeya had died in 1986.Never seen or heard him except in those old black and white photographs. It’s been 29 years since his death. Today we had a Dane (alms giving) to bless him with pin. To wish him a better afterlife. Perhaps a common practice among SriLankan Buddhists. All my uncles, aunties and family friends got together. I was a part of it too. I went. I saw .I heard. I learnt.I was humbled.

Once the Dane was offered and received by the maha sanga, Lokuhamuduruwo gave a little speech on the event, discussed the merits of giving and those duties to be fulfilled by children to their parents which was once told by the enlightened one in Singalovada Sutta. It was then time to chant pirith.The voices raised all in one. I liked the resonance created by those high and low end notes. They were sung in such fashion with pauses and spirituality. I like pirith recitals. There is some beauty that harmonizes all backgrounds.

A  few words went on .

“Ayu waddako, dhana waddako, siri waddako, yasa waddako, bala waddako, wanna waddako, sukha waddako hothu sabbada”

The words are from Gini Piritha. They wish long life, prosperity, beauty, strength  and power. Thus prays for a life full of comforts. These reminded me of a conversation that took place sometime back between a few relatives of mine.

“I wonder how much of pin I have collected today, my total pin. I give people as much as I can, so I will have more comforts” one of those old aunties remarked three years ago at an alms. Among them was another distanced relative who blindly follows Buddhism. Not even kills a minute ant. Speaks high of Buddhism but always fight for the Kos that falls off a huge Kos tree they’ve got right infront of their house. She thinks that big Danaswould give more merits than for a little given.

 Dana isn’t anything unusual for Sinhala Buddhists. We consider Dana or giving as the best way to practice letting go things and to put halt to “asava” or craving. The question is whether we do it right.

We give and give thinking that generosity will erode greed gradually. But inch by inch we tend to crave more. We expect something in return. We wish to be born again with more comforts. We wish to be in heavens. Aren’t we in need of more the more we dispose? We are still entangled in thanha.

Alms givings and charity projects are all over. CSR’s and CCR’s are often heard in the business community. Cooperate Social Responsibility has now become the science of fixing long term sustainability in businesses. But sponsorships are often dedicated for high budget sports events or cultural shows.  CSR is not the art, the culture or sport. It’s a way of enhancing the quality of life. To reach hearts of those who are in need. Interestingly some companies deny sponsorships just because it isn’t profitable or not competitive enough for benchmarking purposes.

Big or small, profitable or not isn’t the matter. Giving is all about being happy with what is given. We need not to expect gifts in return. We got to shorten the sansara .End the suffering.  Not to be born again and not a life full of luxury.

We got to  break strings, apart those flesh tight drenched in thanha…

( Published on the 30th March 2014 in " The Nation" )

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Lessons Learnt

We are all connected. May be in thoughts or else in action. This is why I believe that strangers are awesome. Having encountered some, I think it’s adventure. Random people are just those who are yet to come to know. There is something that we can breach off from those who come to us. It’s a balance between life and death. No life is a waste when spending with people. Because there is something good to know always.

I’m not a rich traveler. I’ve just made a few to Singapore, Maldives, and Malaysia. And longtime back to Belgium too. Traveling is fun. It always gives us something new. I just got back home two weeks ago after spending nearly two months in Thailand. It was my second time in Thailand. But this time the trip served something very different.

When did you ever get satisfied thinking that “everything will be ok very soon “. This is crap. Once we achieve a thing, there is something else missing. Working on long term goals don't bring happiness. I knew it. The present is all what we have. Never postpone things. Grab things as much as you can whenever there is a chance. Breakaway the risk. Live the moments now. And now.

We make attempts. Not the first, not the second, may be the seventh will let us jump the wall. When things go wrong we forget the fundamentals. Instead blame the destiny. But impossible is nothing. It is a matter of working up your ass off. Not just to sit and screw up the entire life. Mat was one of those German friends I met during the journey. He often talked about the hard times he had while doing his bachelors. The several times he had to go from shop to shop asking for some little job to earn his living , the time spent walking miles and miles late in the night peeping into supermarkets . He recollected them. He didn’t want to bother his parents. “They weren’t much educated”, he said. But today he holds a Masters in Physics. He is a Science Researcher in one of those reputed Universities in Germany and is eagerly waiting to complete his PhD. Besides he is a rich traveler.

Something interesting now. Yes, internet can be harmful at times. I know. Too much of technology can even lead to distress according to psychologists. But Internet is the greatest thing. Google maps and google translator helped me all the way to Thailand. To talk and travel was easy. Not everything is bad. There is something good about anything we have got. It’s just a matter about how we use things. Attitude crap!

I realized that life is not only what we see in the books or the T.V. Go, get out and do something with people. Seeking out people with different cultures can teach a lot. It could be to speak hearts loud, to listen others or to respect ones feelings. , whether you like it or not. See, there is a lot to know!

The 45 days in Thailand ended this way. Wait, the lessons aren’t done yet.

It was the 1st of March. A Saturday. To leave all people was some kind of an ache. Sarathchandra once said  Lovehi aththe yaam eem pamanayi (Life is all entrances and exits). Where ever we go, what we will carry is the memory. Not that time again. Not those people again.

My flight got delayed that day. I had to spend another 7 and half hours to get to home. I was standing near a departure board when I met a random man. He was from Bangladesh. The long conversation perhaps cheered me up. We talked about Thailand. Many a times he had visited SriLanka. That was something good to know. He was eager to know about my plans for the future. I went on talking. He was married. He had been holidaying for some days in Thailand. And now it was time for him to head back to work in Kuwait after a 5 hour transit in SriLanka.

There was something striking in our meet up. Traveling alone would excite us always. His was different.

“Holidaying is different. You know that after a few days you are back in home with your people. But working in your own in another country for years is different. How much it could be interesting you will always miss the people you love. Imagine being alone, miles and miles away? You never know when you will be back in your home country. You’ll Skype them, chat them every day. But the need for affection, security and validation is something you’ll never achieve. This will knock your heart someday. A day you settle down in a country away from people who you love”

Everyone needs the same thing. Everyone needs love security and hopes for a better day. There is no difference in billionaires and a common man.

He gave me his business card. His name, address and contact numbers were all printed. He assured that I can see him if by chance I visit Kuwait or Bangladesh.

I landed to katunayake airport by one ‘o clock in the morning. I put my hands into the pocket. The card was missing. May be by mistake it fell down. I was sad. I will not meet him some day. I don’t remember his name. All I know is, he was a nice man.

( This story was carried in " The Nation"  newspaper under the title " Lessons learnt by a Traveler" on the 20th April 2014)

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People I have known and loved

He asked me why I laughed and at times why I smiled at things he says. This all happened a few weeks back when I was in Thailand for a teaching project. He was Mr. Panya Lawan. The headmaster of Wat Makham School. The school in which I taught .I didn’t know what to say. My smile was a thing for fascination. Even confusion.

 I loved math as much as I did for literature. Spending a year in the math stream I later switched into Arts. I still didn’t know what would sustain me, math or arts. I even spent a month in the commerce class. Perhaps I was such an addle pate.

There is a teacher I love. Mrs. Dithika Hidellage.She was my A/L Logic teacher. She would tutor me on every Sunday. One of my school mates joined me too. I was very good at deductions and derivations in Logic. They were all math. She knew I had better brains to deal with numbers and x, y and z’s. She often regretted me doing arts. All because a math degree would give me more opportunities. But I convinced her that I’m happy with what I’m doing with a genuine smile. My smile was one of those sweet and submissive things, Mrs. Hidellage exclaimed again and again.

People come and go. Sometimes the most interesting ones leave sooner. These two were such I have met and known. Mr. Panya is a recent comrade. He is different from Principals I’ve met in life. His greatest assets were the broken chair and a low wooden chair like desk on which he use to keep his laptop. He had his separate room. Neatly kept. Air-conditioned. Decorated with a golden Buddha statue. But the room was just kept closed all the time. He preferred a packed little room where four or five teachers used to sit. He talked to his heart’s content. Sang as much as he wanted.  He had the habit of singing while running through files and documents. He didn’t wait for others. Rather he worked himself. Did his documentation.  He did his own writing and printing. Even watered the plants and helped cleaning the school. He was something more than presiding over a school. He use to make fun of little kids. Hug them, squeeze their noses, fight them and celebrate glory. He was a father. A soul mate.

I don’t know his age. Probably in his sixties. He is young in heart. I loved the way he often use to make fun of pretty ladies. Even those beautiful teachers in the school. He was a cheering aid. His action and drama thrilled me always. His favorite was imitating animal sounds. He’s an animal lover. Full of energy. Every evening he has soccer sessions with his mates. He is handsome. He is the kind of man I like. Benevolent and easy. Relaxed and tongue – in – cheek.

There is something that I’ll never forget in him.  They are the stories of a Prime Minister. Of one to become a Prime Minister. He enjoyed politics. Rather he dreamt of “Lawan” replacing “Shinawatra”. He acknowledged his country. He was humbled. 

I’ve been writing this article many times. In my mind. There are no pictures I have had with them. But for those moments spent. The happy hours. These words will restore the nostalgia.

There is hope that I’ll see Mrs. Hidellage. But who knows whether I‘ll ever get to see Mr. Panya again. Whether I’ll ever go to Thailand again!

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Hell is women for those infidel ?

There were slight rain showers outside as I came out of the washroom after a bathe. It was a Saturday, a long day after heavy soccer trainings. I laid down on the couch with a plump of files, to browse through the remaining notes as the finals were coming ahead soon. Contracts to Criminal and then back again to Family law.

Family law was one of my favorites. It was nothing but for those thought provoking disclosures of  Sir A.H.M.D  Nawaz, one of the Deputy Solicitor Generals at the Attorney General’s Department that kept me liking the subject. Every single theory behind family law was some interesting stories. They were stories for life. Stories never to miss.

There are no countries with restrictions, formally or informally. Some embrace them happily and some do not. Some reject the Divorce; some bitterly chuck infidelity while the others are smart about them. Monogamy is what is accepted and expected. Hardly one could voice that being infidel is adventure, a way to form needs that are unfulfilled or a way to be happy for the unhappy. I was told and taught in school: that infidelity wrecks life down the years and so does divorce at times. But later at Law College I was questioned: “dennatama ekata inna bari nam mokada wenne?” (What would be if both the partners can’t stay together?) .

After all it’s the attitudes that create walls; stop us from jumping walls, or to cry our hearts loud of what we really feel. There was one colleague who raised himself. ‘If two partners cannot stay together, one cannot tie their legs by law, after all we are humans, feelings change, circumstances change, sometimes maturity diminishes with marriage. He feels that he is too young, too old, too fat, too thin, too poor, too stupid, or too whatever to be desirable and thus tend to go behind someone else other than for his legal partner. Therefore marriage shouldn’t be an entrapment.’ He is correct. Although many might disagree with the thought. Couldn’t it be that culturally and socially marriage is linked with morality rather than a pure civil contract in the hands of law in this country?  Not surprisingly the damage is worse when a marriage is irretrievably broken for little reasons.

Keep away the marriage aside.Mr. Nawaz was one of those men I liked. I liked the way he taught. Obviously it is the experience that mirrored his words. He had his favorite quotes. “No hell a fury like a woman scorned”. This was one such. The quote was a bit familiar and sounded very Shakespearian to me. Man was I wrong! Later research taught me that the words were taken off by William Congreve’s play named “Love for Love”. There was something gripping about the quote. I was in love with the quote as much as Mr. Nawaz did.

One afternoon we were interpreting a few divorce cases. Mr. Nawaz came up with horrendous situations where women were acting “the gonibilla” in front of their men. There were women who slapped and chocked, those who threatened with arms and fire and even those women who brashly took off the man’s pants in public. The women were so desperate to know that their men were sleeping with other women or having sexual encounters. I was left with pity for men. William Congreve was right. Women can give hell even worse than hell. Especially when they are rejected or spurned. The fact was just plain and neatly parceled in those women in the few cases.

One could say it’s right for a woman to fight over his man. Not to have his man shared by many. Because natural instincts still govern human relationships. But I believe that “Dhamma “governs everything. Whether we like it or not or even if we could hardly comprehend its dimensions. As a habit, every morning “bana” is being played in radio at our home. I was the last to leave home that day. There was a statement made by the priest. Quite similar to Congreve’s quote. He was questioning as to why women are despaired by their men who go out with other woman. And some even think of dying because of such men. We know things. We know how thunder causes, we know the directions. We know from where the sun rises and from where the sun will set. But there are things that are abstract of which the processes are mystifying and obscure. Why bother over a soul not resident? It’s Thanha that leads to assertion and claim. Why suffer over husband’s karma? A man’s desire for such infidelity is some inherited karma, a collection of sins in previous lives may be. No woman is ought to carry her partner’s karma or vice versa. Let the man have the life he deserves. Let the other women share his body.  Divulge from attachment   and “ashawa” that causes suffering.

One could arguably say that the man is wrong. He betrays the woman. But at times karma is too complicated that we got to twist and turn things to see the full picture. Buddha has always emphasized that one may inquire to himself to confirm things and not just to depend on books or what somebody said. One may interpret infidelity,Thanha or attachment in many ways as possible. This could be one way to ease the pain of seeing another or a partner being infidel. Just saying. That’s all.

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I heard . I saw. I thought

“120/Kmph “was noted on the dashboard. My eyes moved between the big numbers of the speedometer. He was super-fast. Was quite steady in driving.  A jump into the Thai tollway was breathtaking. I liked the way the highways interspersed from one another which took me higher and higher. The tall buildings that pierced through was a stunning picture. After one hour’s drive, he stopped me in front of a Medical Center. But it wasn't the place I wanted to go to. Several times I told him that I need to go to Rang sit. Instead he was pointing at the building and was jabbering in Thai. For some time I was staring at him. I ended up with little gags for myself.  I found him smiling gently at me. At times not being able to talk the same language or not being able to understand an outsider can boil one’s veins until it give away bubbles. I knew the way I had come was wrong but he did not. But my android was left for something better.

I googled a few pictures of the Bangkok University in Rang Sit. That’s where my dorm was. I drew my phone at him. A careful look at the pictures made him realize the place I wanted to go. He suddenly came up with a big “OOooh” along with a laugh. He was too humble enough to admit that he had driven me a long way to somewhere else.  I was quite surprised to see a taxi driver not knowing places by their names. Or was it that my pronunciation sounded weird?  The question recurred in my mind until I got off the taxi. It would be funny to take away tourists to unknown places, to give them some adrenaline hypes and fear them like hell. I remember someone  telling me that Thai taxi drivers would make fun out of tourists at times by circulating them in the same route just to make the distance long . And the interesting thing is outsiders could hardly notice it unless one is capable of positioning the buildings around carefully.

There was something very SriLankan except for the wide and complicated highways. The vehicles drew with much discipline on the toll ways. But not on the normal road. Twice I met with angry drivers who often blamed drivers around him. Even did they try to drive fast as they could and hit the gears on ground vigorously. So an average Toyota car would even turn into a GT-R in seconds.

Once I made several phone calls to Thilina ayya , a friend of mine ,to get to one of the offices in Colombo. He went on describing buildings with colors. Most often we don’t remember the names of the streets. It’s more like that we don’t bother or make effort to remember every crap we see. Rather we would draw lines with colors, pictures or posters which can be identified easily. The journey alone to Khaosarn in Central Bangkok was a haywire. I stopped at many tuk- tuk’s and taxi drivers to ask directions to my hotel. Nobody gave me the proper details. A Policeman that my eyes caught was my next thought.” Go straight, count ten buildings to your right from here. Turn to your right once you reach the tenth. Pass a few shops that sell Chinese products. You will see board names with Chinese characters. Then you’ll get dirty building with a 7-eleven. Cross the road to your left. You will see your hotel “, the Policeman said .This is how most of the Sri Lankans give directions. People differ from place to place but sayings and doings can reflect a part of our homes sometimes. It’s gladdening.

It’s not the name, the address or the number that matters us most of the time. It’s the shape, the color, or the appearance of a person that sticks with us more often. And even the memories joint with certain towns, cities or any specific place make us remember things well.  The policeman made me realize that pictures talk, pictures dance, they form into different shapes just to make us not forget things. Even the minions we see. Life is not logic or numbers. There are things to be sensed with picture or beauty. Even ugly things play their part.

I’m now back home after 45 days of stay in Thailand. I could still recall the way to my hotel. I bet I could give directions to someone else even staying at home.

Somethings are fixed and memorable. Even hard to remove with a little glue.

(Published in " The Nation " in early March 2014)

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A Note From Thailand

(Written while in Chaiyo, Ang Thong Province, Thailand)

So this could be the starting point of an adventure. The advent of being alone, to walk alone in a strange city, to smile at the not known, to greet in the “Thai” way, to talk a bit loud , laugh loud and to drag the words  when speaking   , it was weird  on the first day I met  “Mea Won “. Talk a blue streak and no one here would understand a single thing. Perhaps they are gentle and slow in what they do.

Formerly it was known as “Siam”, meaning the dark or brown because the Thai ancestors were black skinned. Interestingly all men and women in the country are whites now.  The black magic of the African ancestry is no longer there in Thailand. The Lao and Chinese origins have brought about a mystic combination in Thais. Thai women are well formed and tempting. So does the men! The two days of my stay at a friend’s apartment in Bangkok brought me down to a room with a stuffed dressing table.  Every semi – liquid cream was a skin whitener.  Little tubes of Pond’s cream, the half emptied bottles of Fair and Lovely and even the Face wash, the moisturizer, exfoliate washes, and sunblock consisted of “whitening agents”.  Ever in my life have I given a second thought for cosmetics, creams or whatever it is? The second encounter sounded like a bomb shell when an old Thai woman questioned me for not having any curls in hair neither any lipstick when every Thai woman is a fashionable craze.

Their owned and diverse life styles are a must to have known. Some those who have found shelter in Northern Thailand   from war in Burma dictates that young girls are fitted with brass neck rings to ward off evil spirits. Over the years the weight of added rings crushes collarbones and ribs. Now tourist dollars impel long – necked woman in Thailand to again collar their daughters. They say it’s a dying custom of the Padaung (Burmese) people. Bangkok is pretty different! The “too short “shorts and t- shirts are often the uniform for women. Huh! Even the men prefer wearing shorts. Hardly one would come across men in trousers here.

I just wondered would they ever care dying of a heart attack or getting end up with high blood pressure. Heaps and heaps of meat they gulp shocks me every time. They just don’t mind whether it’s duck, octopus, the pig or the bull. Terrifying mouths and awful stomachs they’ve got! I still couldn’t finish up eating a whole chicken leg for the 21 days I've spent in Thailand. Food never ends here. Every inch you walk will have a hut full of deep fried meat, sausages and other kinds of weird food which is hard to describe of what they are made. But I’d tell you, one should never miss the food here. It’s one of a kind. Thrilling and tempting! Big cartons of milk and various drinks for 10 or 15 baht is worth drinking. They can quench your thirst for nearly an hours ride you make.

A few Thai parties I witnessed were a singular opportunity to discover the essence of Thai life. We have our Dj’s performing and providing entertainment for us in home. But here the “Karaoke” is something exceptional. Every party or a gathering will never miss singing Karaoke among themselves. They will have the music provided by a record player. Loud and creaky music is what they like. They are phenomenal dancers too!

The happy city is always awake. The clubs and pubs are crowded with those who would like to have a fine dine, get drunk and whine or if you are lucky enough, even to make some casual love.The country is fine even behind the dark holes of Thaksin’s politics. Every step made is gripping here. There won’t be a better place than my home. But I know I’m engulfed with the land’s natural beauty. The sandy lanes, broad highways, glittering nights and softer hearts add more delight.

Last Tuesday was an action packed day. Had so much to do with the little kids in school. That evening I drove myself to the market with my roommate. It was 6.30 in the evening when we were walking back home. Twilight had already settled down on the Chao Phraya River when we were taking the bend.  It was shining in bright red and luminous orange on a yellow mixed magenta canvas fringed beneath the faded bluish patches. No way it was an irresistible picture. I looked back again, again and again until the sun disappeared from my way.

Thailand is seductive, much to rouse a man! A few words poured down my brains. But it wasn't the sun or the sky I saw.

The more I flirt, the more I love Thailand. I gently bent down my head and smiled from one corner of my mouth as I entered the house.

 ( Published in " The Nation" in early february 2014)

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Waiting For Godot

Formerly it was known as “Siam”, meaning the dark or brown because the Thai ancestors were black skinned. Interestingly all men and women in the country are whites.  The black magic of the African ancestry is no longer there in Thailand. The Lao and Chinese origins have brought about a mystic combination in Thais. Thai women are well formed and tempting. So does the men! Fine dining and attention to detail are the hallmarks of the Mandarin oriental. Bright colors—from umbrellas, clothing, and wares—brighten the muddy water of the Amphawa floating market in Samut Songkhram. Fruits, vegetables, flowers, and food tempt buyers are at floating markets across Thailand.

The twilight settles on the Chao Phraya river around 6’o clock. Chao’s sunset is the most beautiful I think.  A rare view of the sun, so closer and perfectly round in shape. It dazzles with bright red and luminous orange on a yellow mixed magenta canvas fringed beneath the faded bluish patches. Climbing for some 140 meters high and approximately 50 meters wide, recline the gold plated Buddha statues guarded by thick forests.  It is a mark of Buddhism underlying the khama in daylight along Pattaya and Phantong beaches. Thailand is mesmerizing. But not for its yellow mixed magenta skies or the bright waters of Amphawa or the tempting cuisine can cool down the boiling war between Thaksin and Bhumibol (The King of Thailand)

The wars fought against Cambodia, Laos and Burma waxed off the Kingdom. The Burmese held up. It was time for Thaksin! Since the day Thaksin became the Prime Minister he has been a busy man. He bought and sold England’s Manchester City football Club, acquired a titanium mine in Zimbabwe, started a lottery in Uganda, acquired a Nicaraguan passport, met with Vladimir Putin and met Nelson Mandela.

Wait! He is still busy doing things.

He now dreams of becoming the Head of Thailand. Thaksin is a successful mobile operator. A silicalite chip running with signals. What matters and mattered him was   the increase and decrease of figures. Law was second hand. Moral values weren't a part of him.  He was happy when the GDP increased. He enjoyed the comforts when the debts fell off. Perhaps a typical business mind turned into politics. He was a proud owner of many developed transport systems in Thailand,   A bombastic figure of the highways and Airports in the country. But did he ever smile at the corruption? the authoritarianism? the money he laundered for him and his family through government commissions?

He was a total crook  who artificed a bleeding heart. Many men of the country are being fooled by his money. He confidently announces that he wants to come back to Thailand and serve the people.  Why then escape?  It should be remembered that the tongue can lie a many but not the heart can be duped easily.

Money has turned out to have a better heart than for the virtues of a man. This is why Thaksin is still energetic, ambitious and alive among many Thais. He empowered the long ignored voices of the countryside. He managed to develop funds worth 1 million THB (Thai Baht) to help the poor. The Rice Subsidy project raised by him became popular among farmers but eventually resulted cash shortages. Yet there will be more about Thaksin, Thaksin and Thaksin running up in the lips of people in years to come in Thailand.

“If you love my brother, will you give his younger sister a chance?”  Once Yingluck Shinawatra led the crowd roar of approval at a camp, leaving little doubt as to whether the Gulf City is home to her brother Thaksin.

It’s a hunger game. Hungry for power. To own the flesh , to earn more and to celebrate the throne. To have pictures and posters of him on the city walls , every doorstep or the clock wall. Its nothing more than the greed , perhaps unending satisfaction. Nevertheless it’s a man’s thing. There is no therapy unless proper medication is found.

 ( Published in " The Nation" in early February 2014)

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On the " fast track" to self destruction

The last time when I was driving through Rajagiriya, what snatched my eyes was the newly opened “BURGER KING”. The restaurant was populated with old grandmas, middle aged men and little kids. Two days back I came across the sub headlines of a newspaper which said “Subway to make Lankan entry in 2014”. I knew they were coming. SriLanka will be a land of fast food eventually. Good for all brand marketers to increase their profits. But pity those hearts without arteries, messed up livers and kidneys. 

In an age where we look for convenience, do I need to define Fast food? Every Tom, Dick and Harry would enjoy it whenever they get a chance.  Indeed they are mouthwatering. A two minute call will bring down pizzas, big burgers, French fries and much more sizzling food at your doorstep. What more can you ask when you are living in a fast track? A loathsome moment entrapped by payrolls, collections, direct calls, counts, sort and file records can be switched to excitement with a little bite from a Cheese N’ steak burger. But did you ever think that this excitement can be deadly at some day?

Well, fast food tastes good but they are not nutritionally balanced. Therefore they can be destructive if consumed in a daily basis. Fast food is packed with calories from refined sugar and fats, specially the artery- clogging and hydrogenated fats which are countlessly reheated to high temperatures for frying purposes. Fast food has a high energy density caused by the excessive use of refined colas and sugars and less fiber and protein. Energy density is the amount of calories in food. Junk food is never huge in portions. Thus the body is tricked by a greater number of sugars and fats from a little round shaped burgher. Research has proven that high density food is what makes one look fatter the day he looks himself in front of a mirror. A thing to regret about being gross and unlovely from a handsome guy.  Remember it’s not just the junk food, but all pre -cooked and convenience food like noodles, canned pasta, cooked chicken or meatballs available at supermarkets are unfit and confuse the brain’s appetite. Becoming fat is not the end of the story. Being obese will result the bodies physically inactive, opening doors to risky diseases like hypertension, heart disease, diabetes, high cholesterol and various cancers.

The message has been passed for a considerable number of years that “trans fat” = “bad”. Trans fat is what piles up unwanted fat and calories in the body. The interesting thing is restaurants and food manufacturers are too smart to fool the consumers. They avoid labeling trans-fat in food packets. Sometimes 5 grams of trans- fat is listed as zero. Further trans-fat is rephrased as “interesterified fats”. The word may not sound like trans-fat but consider both as partners in crime. Interesterified fats aren’t exactly trans-fat but combines food with unsaturated fat, rather artificial which doesn’t exist in nature. Food scientists show that the impact made my interestified fat is larger compared to trans-fat.

In general, trans-fat is stuffed in margarine, pastries, donuts, cakes instant flavored coffee, muffins and French fries. In short consider anything fried bad. The best is to avoid more intakes of such food in your meal plan. The body doesn’t know what to be done with trans-fat or interestified fat. So it gets stored as toxin in fat tissues. Unless you diet or exercise, these harmful toxins cannot be taken away. If not you may end up getting more toxoid with toxics letting harmful chemicals enter the blood stream.

What’s important therefore is to put more fresh vegetables and fruits into your bodies. Often try to eat home cooked food and avoid regular consumption of fast food.

( Published on the 12th of January 2014 in "The Nation" )

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Light spills over the blue waters

Light spills over the blue waters

Upon the bent fringes –

Overlapped and veiling

Some golden, pink and reddened,

Gulls trailing after the boat

Calling off 5’o clock

As they switch the gears-

Back to the shore

Rolling up the tide gently

And  down and down

the deep it sinks roughly

imbalanced and erratic

like gentle and absynthal

of breath ,

Here’s to another day

Nets full of “ hurullo”

a few “andas” , And  “salayo”

resting on the seaboard

sweaty and clamped –

together ,

bargaining a good buy

(Inspired by Thilina Brown Photography)

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LADYBOYS – The secret world of Thailand’s third gender

“Oh! Baby it’s raining, raining .Now it’s raining more than ever. We will shine together. I will give you a massage and have sex with you. Do you want to go heaven with me? “

Will he win another man’s heart?  God knows 

A woman with a penis, a surgically constructed vagina, breasts and bottom implants, and shaved Adam’s apple, sounds repugnant. The darker skies behind Thailand’s clouds with no stones is amazing but shocking too! Thousands of steps I kept my way in Bangkok to its subways, highways, and the sky train had something unusual. They were the men in pink and purple shape fitters, body hugging pants and lips colored in dark red and some in bright colors. Wait, they had long hair too! Who are they really? I wondered.

The cashier I met in 7 – eleven supermarket was beautiful, vivacious and stunning. I realized that there was no single hair on her skin. Totally white, just white! My second thought on her was kind of dirtier than the first. She was tempting! I couldn’t resist myself to touch her. Anyway with no repentance I got my stuff off the cashier’s desk and walked away. Her picture remained in my mind for days and days. My third visit to 7- eleven with Mat, my German buddy informed me that the woman at the cashier was a Lady boy. I was stunned for no reason.  It was funny. I really couldn’t figure out the word first. Was it a man turned into a woman or a woman being a man ? I was playing with the word to myself, twisting it many ways.  I hurried to the dorm and stopped in front of my Laptop. A five minute run through Google unveiled a few things about Ladyboys. It read as the “third gender”, a male –to-female who exhibits female characteristics while being born a male. I wasn’t quite sure the kind of information I was embarking on.

Thailand’s Trans- genders are mysterious. Quite well known as “Kathoeys”. They are prominently seen in Go- go bars, beauty salons, horrid slums, Thailand’s five star hotels and choreographed cabarets. I was illiterate about Ladyboys. But, Susan Aldous’s “Ladyboys” which caught my eyes in a bookshop at Khaosarn in Bangkok told me that life of every lady boy is more the same. Most of them prefer to correct their anatomy into a female while some are just happy wearing women’s clothes or adjusting themselves to effeminate mannerisms. Thais much engulfed in Buddhist faith believe that Ladyboys are a result of bad karma done in past lives.

A double take on Susan’s wording in his novel like breast implants, the hormone/ silicone enhanced breasts, vile sex shows, dancing in bikinis, generally satisfying clients with fellatio telling that he is on menstruation, or covering the penis against the lower abdomen or to carefully untape the penis and squat over the toilet to make sure that he will not get caught by his male clients when having a sexual encounter was disturbing.

Kathoeys are risk-takers. Perhaps they are a challenge to their own life and even the society. Ladyboys are competitive creatures when comes to sexual pleasure. The urge to be more feminine is stronger than just being a biological woman I think. Desire to succeed material wise plays a significant role in Thai society. So do many Ladyboys undergo surgeries to be more woman-like to sell their bodies for more money.

Despite the negative effects of contraceptive pills and the fear of getting cancer, Kathoeys or Ladyboys prefer to live happily like a woman with a few years off their life. A shorter life or a sooner death is fine for them, because they know that the silicone injections and pills will bring money to them.

Looks can be the biggest deception. It just did the same when I met the woman at the cashier in 7-eleven. If you just take away the shapes and sizes for a moment, a figure that is focused, and an ethereal beauty that can far excel anything physical will bring material benefits. However at the end of the day what matters is goodness. Susan’s write up about Ladyboys in Thailand illustrate the innocence and courage filled hearts of such people. Sometimes to cross paths irrespective of gender can be incredible.

( Published on the 22nd of February 2014 in "The Nation" )

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