Einstein - " Ape Deiyya"

“Deiyya” or “Dewi” refers to God or Goddess. Our society believes very much in gods.We consider them sacred. They are our guardians ,our protectors during those fractured days in life. Healers at a time. They can even be evil. They will turn on the “yaka” hidden within our souls and make us suffer. Grandmas often make the notion that “its an evil spirit “when some things cannot be healed or cured. Despite their evils we worship them day and night. That’s tough love now. Buddhism says Gods are in need of more “pin” to live longer.

 Anyway, I’m not here to talk of Gods.

A little while ago, I met Einstein, Albert Einstein.  He was as usual with the messed up hair. A part of his brown jacket was torn and the pieces were plastered in white. I brushed my fingers across his torn jacket. Being a Mathematics student for one year before shifting to Arts, I fondly remember him for something I learnt. Time is a variable, not an experienced quality. I remembered Relativity. That nothing travels faster than light. The faster you travel, the slower time moves. The heavier and longer, the things become shorter. Physics requires abstracting away from one’s experience.

Those science haters never believe in Physics. It is senseless for them now and then. But this time we got to believe Einstein a little bit at least.

So the next time your plane approaches an airport in bad weather, you got to be wondering, what good is basic Physics?  Think of Einstein and the Global positioning System (GPS) fixed inside the cockpit. They help out Pilots to a safe landing. GPS is a mix of Einstein’s relativity, where a few distanced satellites are identified to deduce one’s own location, to receive speed stats and even weather forecasts.

Einstein’s world is absolute. Everything is perfect. Perfect circles, straight lines and so on. But the real world is too far from this. It isn’t straight. Full of irregularities. A keen observer will know it.

Science tricks us at times. You'll learn Force at the science class today, but will not be able to float a half emptied bottle across the room to you. Life isn't rocket science. It’s a  knowledge based – sensitive system. It is where one is reasonably prudent as well as aesthetic. No reason wins always, some things should be felt by heart too.

Einstein teaches us life with straight lines  and space without matter , a little less than the volumes of poetry  where there is no music  but  more complex.

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Little less of a soliloquy , a gecko talks

Pic by Hiranya Rahul

Ratter – tatter, the drops fall by

caressing the red polished dust

Giving tingles,

Fractionating the roughness

From the tender heel

Again, again and again.

Darkness rise,

 he snuggles

Clutched to the edge,

Of the icy blurred window

Startled by the wintry floors

Clambers up

Un – bedimming the bedim,

the streaming waters

scratched his petite claws

with flattened chin,

hushed  the mirror

Are there walls soft and warm?

Are there walls slender and tall?

( Inspired by Hiranya Rahul Photography)

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So the President’s Macaws returned, did anybody hear their stories?

My news feed was full of different stories that day. Some posts on avurudu, then the toy pistols in Hambantota and some political commentaries. Among them were some Macaws which caught my eyes. Never knew that the President was a Macaw lover! However the urge to find them back was quite funny for me. And now the latest is that they’ve been found. It made me laugh more. Just wondered if President was scared that the Macaws will divulge the state secrets. What if they flew to Cameron’s home? And even Obama’s, if the Macaws had enough petrol to fly across Pacific. Anyway President won’t mind it. Even then he invited Jonathan Miller for a tea, when Cameron and the channel 4 brashly announced of the human rights violations. Done or undone, whatever! But if the birds did fly, they would have surely been the President’s Angry Birds.

Pic by Ushan Gunasekara|Ushan Gunasekara Photography

Leave away the Millers, Camerons and Obamas. Leave away that heavy politics .Poor them. They are trapped inside the metal cages again. I was reminded of Federico Garcia Lorca’s “House of Bernada Alba” which was read and even watched by me four or five years back. Bernada sees Angustias – the eldest wearing makeup. Upon the fact that Angustias would defy her orders to remain in the state of mourning, Bernada violently scrubs the makeup off her face. Maria Josepha, the elderly mother of Bernada announces that she wants to marry. She even warns that she will turn her daughters’ hearts to dust if they cannot be free. The “makeup” is a mark of freedom of the Generation 98 culture in Spain at that time. There was freedom growing in Spain, little by little. But not in Bernada’s house. Bernada was desperate by the traditions, the so called conservatives. It is not Angustias who matters the most. In my head Adela, the youngest of Bernada was recalled by these escaped Macaws. Instead of remaining in mourning black, Adela wears a green dress contrary to norms and even threatens to run away in streets in search of a man to marry.

Lorca’s Adela and Angustias are just book characters. But we all are Adelas and Angustias at some point in life. None of us like to be locked in houses, not to have talked with people, not to have enjoyed or not to be heard by people. A part of our souls always urge for new things. To explore the world, to meet new people, to try things, to fall and get crushed, to stand straight and brave. Even to go a little bit away from norms.

So do the Birds. Even those Macaws.

They just would have wanted to see what’s happening around. To break the bars like Adela did. What would a cage bring them? Will they see the sun rising from the eastern skies? Will they at least see the stars up? Do they know about Cameron?  Or at least heard of Miller?

I doubt…

(Published in "The Nation" newspaper , on the 27th April 2014)

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Litigation with a little interest

Eppawala mines sound long gone and dead. Did they find Phosphate? Battaramulla was quite famous sometime back. Waters’ Edge was built. Did the fish find their homes? Homes were taken away around Waters’ Edge. Paved streets were turned into water drainage systems. Inevitably land was altered into a wetland. Did the innocent tears bring back the land to the owners?

Damages done to the surrounding, commonly known as” pollution” is not new to us. Every day we hear about trash being dumped into streams .We hear people complaining about disposing garbage on either side of the streets. We hear about the mono oxidized and carbonized air removed from factories. People protest .They form committees. They bring interim orders. Do we still see clean streets or clean water streams?

A healthy environment is a right for every person. True enough. We all like to breathe clean air. We like to bathe clean water. We all like to live healthier and longer. This is no difference from an average man to a Politician or a President in any country. There was Rachel Carlson, the one who was first to talk of a human right to a healthy environment, in Silent Spring published in 1962.

“Man has the fundamental right to freedom, equality and adequate conditions of life in an environment of a quality that permits a life of dignity and well-being, and he bears a solemn responsibility to protect and improve the environment for present and future generations.”

Leave the average citizen of a country. Just think, aren’t Politicians and Presidents humans? So  they are bound to protect the environment too, in terms of Rachel.

But the story is different.

Cartoon by Awantha Artigala

It is pitiful that the so called Statesmen and Upper Guardians of a country are promoting pollution. Rather they have little interest about their surroundings and even for the rest of the people living in.Nothing else but some “fast bucks” is what matters them. This is why the Eppawala mines were digged with the help of a few suddas.In 1980’s  when such mining was attempted , J.R Jayawardhane denied approval because  he was shown the irreparable damage that could be done to the historic waterways in Anuradhapura .Even about 2600 families were likely to be affected. Twenty years later now, again the project is reestablished. Secret activity is taking place in a forested area in Eppawala. Despite the damage that can happen, the project has received cabinet approval. International tenders have been called out for collaboration. The public is distressed. Fundamental Rights applications are pending.  After all this is importing crude oil through State to Private Agencies. When did the LPL or the cabinet of ministers claim mines to be their private property? Mineral deposits are of this nation. For the benefit of people of this country for centuries to come.

The same happened to Waters’ Edge Golf Course in Battaramulla. Chandrika Kumaratunga failed as a public officer, much less an Executive President. She betrayed the trust bestowed upon her by the constitution, the constitution of the people of this country. The said land was covertly transferred for flood retention purposes. Land was taken by the people, where a loan was given as compensation. They think loans or a nominal sum can bring back the fish alive in water streams which were turned to drainage systems little months ago. Crazy!

The Urban Development Authority (UDA) had a plan to lease Galle Face Green to E.A.P Edirisinghe Group and bring in a hawker street style theme park with food, music and other entertainment. Galle Face Green is public property. Everyone has free access. There is little commerce. We see the mudalalis who sell isso wade and amba achcharu (mango pickle).The Environmental Foundation Limited (EFL) crossed UDA’s plan. They upheld that Galle Face will be a place for customers and money machines generating rupees and cents, where the space for leisure will be gone. Only the elite will have the chance to come and enjoy. There will be no kite flying. No isso wade will be sold.UDA denied to release official documents of the agreement made.UDA didn’t have ears for the public outcry.

We are sovereign. The preamble to SriLanka’s constitution in big letters mentions so. Government of the people, by the people, for the people. But the ironies of sovereignty are a brimming laughing stock in this country. There is public interest litigation. Only a little though. Instead we find litigations, more litigation done to seek out money bills. There are plenty of NGO’s committed to serve the public in SriLanka. But they feed their pockets. NGO’s are fat cats with billions in their hands.

The rights are clear. Plenty of laws are brought in. We often talk of sustainable development. But the judiciary is confused.

Politics play things. Religion covers things.

Another comes into mind.Rathupaswala ended with deaths, injuries and damages to property. Authorities claimed that industrial effluents are likely causing damage to the ground water. Board of Investments and Central Environment Authority were blamed.

Anyway if we are to change things, we need to make a difference within ourselves rather than blaming others. We need right Politicians with right attitude and right authoritarians with enough training. Real wealth is food, fertile land, buildings or other things that sustain us. In terms of Economics, if one thinks that turnovers, capitals or assets are real wealth, that’s wrong. Not knowing the value of sustainability, it is potentially the fatal kind.

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For seas and skies , a change that counts !

I do not remember who left the book on my palms that day. Four or five years back. It was Romesh Gunasekara’s Reef. It reached me with a few words. They said, “It’s touching and beautiful, you will like it!” There was no name on the book. It rested with me for three years.

Soon, I handed it over to someone, who possibly knew the owner of the book. I remember those late nights, when I use to fall on my bed and turn page by page reading the words divulged by Romesh. I ate them! They were fascinating.

Two months ago, I was on my way to Kanchanaburi in Thailand by train. Either side of me were greenish rivers that stretched along. Steep mountains that reached high. Tall trees with dry, brown leaves crept inside the train as it swiftly moved. But there was something unlike my home. Not even those hot, exotic beaches impressed me. The sea in Thailand was not the same like the sea near Sri Lanka. Ours was better. Some things pinched my heart.There’s no place better than my country.

Some chunks from Romesh Gunasekara’s Reef poured down my brains. There was a distinct difference in beauty in the two countries. The vast waters that rush into shore and disappear, the underwater corals sparkling and brimming, the fisherman rolling on the surf, the gleams of sunlight that crawl underneath the coconut trees that lengthened along the shores is ardent beauty. The blues mixed with red, orange, yellow and purple patches color a perfect tropical noon in Sri Lanka. I’ve never seen such beauty in other countries.

There was a time when those sparkling reefs were taken away. The waters were overtaken by death squads. Fire was lit. Portuguese, the Dutch and the British came full of the promise of cinnamon, pepper and clove; struggled a bit to take Sri Lanka into their hands. But we were released later. It is ironic that independence from the British led to brutal violence even worse than what the British did. The violence tore apart the paradise. It was in the 60s, 70s and 80s. It was a time where one could only have pleasure by firing another bullet. Destruction was normal, like for those heaps of reefs taken away to make cement, the structure of the sea is destroyed, the sea will come straight in and demolish the land. It was a time when politics and religious turmoil even dragged away the comfort of the thin breeze.

But, after 30 years of conflict we see the beauty appearing again. Rays of hope unrolling across the country. Life is back. People are enjoying the waters washing away shores. They are actively engaged in daily chores. There is no alarm about bombs. No black skies. No gun smoke running up. Hot red evening skies are back to be seen.

Time has made such a difference. The diastolic past is done.  Even the seas and skies have changed.It’s time for us to rise, lead and unite, to make Sri Lanka a better one. 

( Published  in " The Nation" newspaper on the 20th April 2014)

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Malinga is a lucky chap

Sunday the 6th of April was a joyous day. There wouldn’t have been a single SriLankan in Dhaka who kept calm. There would have been noisy cheers, screams with overwhelmed happiness. That Sanga- Kohli hug was a moment of harmonization. Kohli after making the 77th score in a losing cause still managed to bear the defeat. It was true sportsmanship. A rare celebration particularly coming from an Indian!

Malinga jumps into the crowd. Mahela hugs Dilshan. Dilshan hugs Sangakkara. They finished it in style even when Kohli came up with some terrific batting. Mahela and Sangakkara deserved a better ending to their T20 stories. Rather it was Malinga’s day. Even a day where Chandi (Chandimal) was raised and gladdened. Chandimal humbly passed his captaincy. Malinga held it.

I cannot think of a bowler becoming a successful captain in a few nights. It requires a lot of craftsmanship. To SriLanka it did though. Malinga was once condemned by a letter –writer. He was criticized for his indecent looks. Malinda’s hair became a terrible issue in grounds. But I bet he receives more love from the international crowd. Later days he claimed the sexiest cricketer in the world. Need I say more? Those unruly ginger curls of Slinga did it.

Malinga knows his roots. His early cricket was at Hikka beaches . He played with coconut bats and rudimentary husks. Little matches that were fixed on the west coast were gradually uplifted. The stage was set for him at Darwin’s Marrara Oval and then Dambulla. They were the debuts of his Test Cricket and ODI’s. He broke the social barriers. Became one of those exciting “Yorker” throwers. He devised his own picture. Frankly, he can have any hairstyle he wishes therefore.

He is proud. And he is meant to be so. His hair speaks of a hidden “mane” within him. The stubborn golden streaks picture a lion on charge. Strong and aggressive. Even those deliveries he make.  They trigger memories of an unusual slinging action. Truly symbolic.

We won the T20 Cup. It would have been strange. One would have even thought the selection committee was crazy to make Malinga the captain. The committee was confident.

There was nothing experimented. Neither did Malinga. Rotating bowlers was a challenge.He used Senanayake for Yuvraj, he used Herath to bewitch the batsmen, Mathew was out early. He executed his yokers to the fullest. None of the Indian batsmen scored over 30 runs. None.

Chandimal missed the last few games. Even then came into grounds with sheer joy. He was unadulterated. Held Sangakkara with much delight.Chandimal’s modesty was Malinga’s joy.

Malinga did his part. Ended it beautifully. Much to his momentary and victorious captaincy. That is his story.

Malinga was a lucky one.

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