Summer Tales

Pic by Ushan Gunasekara

Curved smiles

warm and tender,

Wrinkles smooth and grey

Ripples that twist and turn,

Dazzling oceans,

Sands of time ,

Kisses caught-

in cloud and rock,

Clustered beams and

Butterfly wings,

Of red and green

glittery rainbows,

Magpie songs

tuned and pitched,

Spring whimpers

new summer tales 

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Strings and Stringless Days

Human emotions cannot be put into words at times. Even the strongest is uncontrollable in front of those they like and appreciate the most. People come and go in life. There may be a reason for that . I’ve never questioned as to why it happens. They live for seconds, minutes or a few hours and get blown away. They disappear for years. Some never come back: like those kites that lose its direction and get tangled in a faraway tree or a roof. Never seen. Kite runners would never know where their kites are . They are gone. Gone forever, leaving hearts aching.

Darwin is a truth. It’s about survival of the fittest . We all struggle. We get crushed. We fight to acquire  things. Even people.

The 14th, three days before it was Vesak. There were buckets hung on a tree by my neighbor. They looked nice when burning that night. It rained later. On that rain drenched Vesak, the next morning I saw half of the buckets on the ground. Torn and in some just the kambiya was left . Nothing hard to contemplate on. It’s easy. This is what Buddhism talks of, that everything is impermanent. The law is ancient. Cannot be changed.

We are unborn young and demise unplanned. Skies never know when it will rain. When will the sun shine. We are not informed of droughts, floods or a Tsunami. They just happen as nature allows. Sun rises from the east. We all know . Can’t the sun wake up from the west ? just for once? It might if nature wants. We never know. We like sunsets. We admire sunsets even being adults. Not because of the purple red , yellow mixed orange patches that are seemingly beautiful but because they are fleeting. Very fast like those day and night stories of people who walk in and out of our lives.

The day was bright. Everything was fine and neat. Things were full, even the trees with leave. Unlike the other days the wathusudda tree on the side of the street was white all over. There wasn’t a single branch one could spot without a flower. Sun rays had fallen to the ground. The brownish sand sparkled. I liked his smile. The cheeks puffed out with wrinkles around .They were clear and heartwarming. A widened mouth with neatly arranged teeth. He remembered his younger days. He told me about the people he know. Asked a few questions. I don’t remember. There were smiles and giggles that met each of us. They broke the silence. We came to know our selves. Lines that kept us alike. I was too amazed to speak. He played with my hair. Fingers cuddled with affection. We were tied from string to string. Hearts blended together. Like the glass powder coated manja, an abrasive string entangled and gummed around fingers of kite runners. But that wasn’t meant to be pulled. Our kites weren’t meant to be cut and captured.

But they were  carried off by somebody who really didn’t like strings. Tears ran down my cheeks. It was another wet day in December. The rain drops pricked the earth with heavy noises. The air gulped my breaths. They were too fragile , who alone could make me fly or bring me down.

( Featured in “ The  Nation" newspaper , 25th May 2014)

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Caress

Eye to eye

Lip to lip

He stole kisses

Mischievously

Wall to wall- 

hidden beneath

Love cuddles- cuddles not

Threw hearts

Into breathless winds

Of words

Of joy and tear.

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In Memory of Many Gemunus

Gemunu Kumaraya is much celebrated. An energetic, warlike prince. The one who unified Rajarata. Later projected his power across the country .Overthrew Elara. He embraced Buddhism. Garned Buddhism. Was delighted by the maha sangha. Even made Ruwanwelisaya to house Buddha’s people.  Gemunu is a success story of war, a war between two nations. They were the Cholas from India versus SriLanka.

Starting from the tidbits of Ramayana, when Ravana fought with Rama for Kidnapping Rama’s wife – Sita, comes all the way to 1980’s where Tamils and their political leaders begin to wane. 1983 marks the watershed of the ethnic conflict following the killing of 13 soldiers in Thirunuwelli.

We ended the war. Prabhakaran died in 2009. But still the pieces seem to be lagging.

We’ve heard of America, we’ve heard of their alleged human rights, we’ve heard of arbitrary arrests and killings of the British Army.  Does anyone bother to question them?  Ironically, we have become the heat of discussion for months and months. We tried. We lost though.UNHCR approves the U.S backed resolution calling an independent inquiry into the alleged war crimes of SriLanka. Pakistan denies, India abstains.

We were born into this war. We curled on beds with killing horrors. We were dragged away from schools by our desperate parents, in broad daylight when there were rumors about bomb- blasts. Every inch of the road was guarded by green or brown suits. No man was allowed to any premises unless they were monitored from clothe to shoes, passports and identity cards. We have lost kins and friends to bomb blasts at bus stops and train stations. We’ve lost someone for this war. I do still remember the blast in Nugegoda. I had just left the bus halt and walked up to home when that dreadful noise was heard. Only a SriLankan would know how comforting it is to not to know or hear about bomb blasts in 8’o clock news.

Pic by Ushan Gunasekara 

There is some hope for us. There will be better days. Roads are coming up, schools are been built. Industries, hotels and hospitals equipped with the latest technology are in construction. People travel north and south often now. Viden is a friend of mine, studying in Jaffna University, born and educated in Colombo. He travels on and off to Jaffna and Colombo every weekend. He chats me often about their kovil visits to hear lord Murugan, the sunsets in Nandikadal lagoon, visits to Iranamadu tank, sangili nadagam shows, the cleansed water wells in Aiyyakachchiya and the evening tea retreats of university students at a saivar kade followed by Tamil songs. Indeed they are living epic moments, despite who is Sinhala  or who is Tamil. He says it worths a life time. People are safe and fine except for living conditions like housing and infrastructure which is yet to come. But they’ll have it soon. They’ll be happy, perhaps.

Tamils aren’t new people to us. It’s just that we missed them for thirty decades.

Development and reconciliation is possible. Remember that it cannot happen overnight. It’s a continuing process. One need to work up a lot to make things happen. So the roads are open. It’s a matter of getting worked up a bit for the good sake of this country. Yet our parliament is a sump. We lack responsible and accountable people. Criminals everywhere. They only know to grab commissions to their pockets and let the work happen for several cheap bucks.Many of them are busy cooking tales to divide the people covering themselves in a so called blanket of “harmony “and” co – existence”.

So where can be a development when it’s very owned people create separatism?

However despite all these we still respect people like Mr. Lakshman Kadirgamar or Muttiah Muralitharan. Both are Tamils by birth, some rare kind who attempted to restore peace through foreign means bringing all people together.

I’m not supportive to any political agenda. War is a bitter story and the stories of a thirty year war are going to be unpleasant. But I would make a humble request to all SriLankans and even my international friends to be mindful of what is been set up before you by any media, news or whatever when making a judgment regarding this matter.

While this could be a headline for many people out there, war was a horror we lived through and some of us even made it alive.

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Are we going to be too blind on this Vesak also

Three years ago I was seated at the very back of the class listening to some commentary made by a teacher. It was on a literary piece which was prescribed for A/L English Literature. If not mistaken it was by Chitra  Fernando. I cannot fix the plot into its exact places. I have forgotten. Inevitably . But I remember that the story has much connection to the Buddhist Doctrine.

It is the month of Vesak. The time we commemorate the birth ,enlightenment and parinivana of Siddhartha Gautama. Officialy the day will end in a few hours. But the festive mood will be there. Religious activities will continue. People would have dansals. There will be vesak koodu competitions and even thoran (pandols) which will be open to the public even later in May. Out of all these, the most noted is the shraddha that occupies one’s heart. They give higher respect to “thunuruwana”, the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha.

Yesterday evening I was invited for a gilanpasa poojawa by a friend of my family.  It wasn’t at temple. The poojawa took place at the budu medura, which was built on the roof top of my friend’s house. White – washed , neat and elegant it was. There were a few  tiny lanterns hanging in blue , yellow , red , orange and white and some buckets hung on tree pots. They lived in Rajagariya, the road in front of Mc Donalds.Living a little less away from Colombo’s heart , there was lullness preserved. There was moon, round and big in the total black out.

Ven. Mahanama Thero performed the rituals. Gilanpasa was offered to Buddha including the maha sangha. In two hours time the poojawa came to an end with the rathana sutra and maithree bhavanava. There was less crowd. Just their relatives and one or two close friends which included me. There was peace diffused . I was happy.

In this short run a woman made an account of several offerings she has made. This is how it went.

“ sathiyakata kalin man loku loudspeaker ekak pansalata pooja kara. Pereda ape gedara thathage dane thibba. Eka nam hondata thibuna . 200k withara senaga hitiya. Mata hari santhosayi.” ( A week ago I offered a loudspeaker to the temple and day before yesterday we had the alms giving for my father. It went well. Nearly 200 people were there for alms. I am happy)

Swiftly she moved to another topic.

“I found a girl from Nawalapitiya to work for me. Only 12 years old. I look after her like my own daughter. But see what this girl did to me. We made kavum for the alms and there was a lot remaining. I left them inside a tin. Yesterday I realized that half of the kavum was gone. The girl had eaten. I slapped her. Otherwise they try to cling on our shoulders and benefit from us”

This reminded me of Chitra Fernando's  Loku Nenda who considers herself to be well conversed  in Buddhism yet fails  to understand  greed. She collects and collects. She never wants others to have her things.

I felt sorry for the little one. She stole probably because she gets less to eat. No wonder. So this is what all the posh aunties who give away big dana do. They call out the entire village for alms, offer loudspeakers to temple, tell the whole world that they are generous and slap their workers for eating kavum when they claim to treat them as daughters. They even prevent from killing thinking that they will have a position in Thusitha Heaven.

 There is no shraddha as such today. But there’s a lot of showing off. Showing off one’s religion. Just beguiling to put the notion on others that they follow up Buddha’s words.

It’s simple as this. Just think of those who observe sil. The majority doesn’t know what they've observed even. At the end of the day they have been spending 8 or 9 hours talking about their grand daughters , grandsons , the next door men or the man who married their neighbour’s daughter.The sil redda is a mere token of true shraddha. Their souls are empty.

In two words I would call this religious hipocracy.

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Remembering Uparis and Gal Pilimaya

It’s been ages. Haven't talked or written to my Uncle for a while. He is domiciled in Australia now. I remembered him over something three months back.

Anyway, I will dispatch my virgin feelings over a little trip I made recently. Uncle always fondly remembers his  childhood home in Polonnaruwa. He grew with those tender winds that brushed the lush greenery and cultivated fields. There was sun, more gorgeous, dark reddened and perfectly round when it sank down the Buddha statues, made of kirigarunda that stood far away touching the sky.He was lucky. But some things will surprise him.

The scorching April sun made me sweat, wetting my t shirt. We stopped at a little shop for tea. Mudalali discerned that we were from Colombo. He claimed that the temperature was 40 Celsius just two days before we’ve arrived to Polonnaruwa. He was disturbed by the weather. He wept over the wild animals and even those rabbits who die without water. Even the waters in Minneriya  have gone. Almost sucked up by the blazing sun. Flowers have turned black. They ‘ve got burnt. Only if Mahasen knew their pleadings for rain. In least if Bodhisattva knew a medicine to heal the starving stomachs. We are blessed to have been born and brought up in towns, nurtured with all facilities. They are unfed . Dryness is running over the rocks standing against the Parakrama Samudra. Brownish and clumsy.  There is life simple. Nothing too tight to cling, so they aren't loss of anything.

A dramatic change has taken place in Gal viharaya . The “sathapena pilimaya “is different from what I saw in “Gal pilimaya saha bol pilimaya”.There’s no sunlight shedding on the stone , making its dim spots glow in the heat of rays. Those red brick walls are replaced by cement tables to offer flowers. Even a sophisticated white ceiling is coming above them. They say it’s to prevent the statue getting wet from rain. It is terribly becoming artificial. The ancientness is gone. When will the modern man reconcile with history? Even trying to stop nature. The flowers were rotten . Probably those ones which were offered the previous day. There was no care taker to clean the dirt. Not even the visitors bothered to.  I was taken back to Uparis in Gal pilimaya saha bol pilimaya, the trustee care taker of Gal vihara who bestowed his duty day and night, considering it as dewa rajakariya. We don’t see men like Uparis today. Regrettably, Uparis effort and hard work was useless when people started worshipping the fake statue which looked more elegant than the original, even those days. The transition in thoughts are clear. So even today what matters is some gold polished, neat looking, carefully crafted thing .Whitewashed shrines and buildings. No single scratch or a patch they would call beautiful. We run behind flowery and the synthetic. We happily greet the mockery. Are we that foolish to spurn the existence? It’s a shame.

We should worry ourselves to be called “Buddhists”. The Department of Archeology once exclaimed that 66 military personnel, 34 Buddhist priests and 30 odd Police STF members were caught for stealing Buddha statues and even the deities. Robbers are cracking open moonstones. They are taken to England. What shall we call as our past? Is there anything left for us to see? We are inviting ourselves into Hell. In a country where “Addinnadana “is preached and chanted every morning and night, this is what happens. We should kick our buts for hearing them.

There is  very little people who love this country . A little who treasure and talk proud of history. The majority are giunea pigs, trying to grab every buck into their pockets. They know how well to grin at others when the faults are within themselves.

Times have changed a lot. Even history is been altered with the very artifacts. We are been beguiled.

Things are different now, uncle. I’m forloned.

  

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Where life is not just sitting next to a working desk

Frankly I’m lazy to walk into University. With much effort and pain I attend lectures, may be to sleep one hour or two, to take away the weariness over an exhausted journey starting from Borella that ends with a little less traffic in Kelaniya. No , wait! I do not sleep in lectures. Usually being a bit late to enter the lecture hall , I am always welcomed by the lecturers to sit in the very front. Pity me. I don’t get the chance of having some fun at the back.

But there’s a few who makes me come to University. I often receive messages in this way.

Dear Pamodhi,

There will be a Local Committee meeting today at the Career Guidance Unit, your attendance is very important. Please be punctual.

Dear Pamodhi,

I need to get the matching list sorted out and discuss how we are going to raise funds. Please meet me at the Career Guidance Unit.

Dear Pamodhi,

We are having an introductory session on GCDP. Will you be able to talk about your experience to the gathering?

Thilina sends me the funniest ones.

Hi,

Need a little favor. I’ll give a bunch of my photographs which might inspire you to write. (A winking smiley at the end)

They certainly know the way to get me into work. Sweet people though. It’s fun to be with them in meetings. To hear the funny conversations ,their cute confessions .To see the brooding, slack- jawed faces of members when talking about money and financial matters. To be with people, it’s enlightening. Worth a lifetime, because there is something good to learn. Everybody has stories. To create living diversity is one of their biggest visions.

INGENS -  AIESEC Colombo North 

When I first met Thilina, he went on telling that they are the largest student run Non-Profit Organization in the world for young people to discover and develop their potential. In addition to providing over 20,000 leadership positions and delivering over 470 conferences to the  membership of over 60,000 students ,they  also run an exchange program that enables over 16,000 students and recent graduates the opportunity to travel , explore and work with foreign people , which is a  fun filled experience.

I wanted to know more about the Colombo North Local Committee (University based branch). Samith Yasas, the current Colombo North Local Committee Vice President for Non Cooperate Development projects was eager to divulge their success stories. With much pride he remarked that the Colombo North has been ranked the 10th best Local committee out of 124 local committees around the world. Further he added that they are the 2nd in the local line, which receives the highest quality measure with regard to their projects and handling foreign interns who come down to SriLanka to work with them. The committee’s projects run in many platforms .Starting from English education to the grass root level in SriLanka, they are committed to health awareness, tobacco and drug reduction, women empowerment ,  to improve social media and  communication , to develop technical and digital skills like photography and filming  and even environmental and energy conservation. They even bring down interns to work with major companies in SriLanka like Walkers Tours, Wild Drift , C3 Magazine , Escape Holidays , Charter House, Life Foundation , Total Amber , CCBT and several others   . The basic idea of providing such internships to young college students is to enable them explore their potential and to improve leadership qualities and business knowledge. This is quite a good chance for young people to get familiar with the working environment even before they walk out of Universities.

Having said all these, just a month ago the Colombo North Committee successfully concluded the Annual Youth to Business Forum at the Kelaniya University premises, focusing on Innovation, Entrepreneurship and Corporate Responsibility. The event was graced by leading Entrepreneurs and business leaders like Mr. Suneth Kotuthenna - the Factory Manager at Unilever, Director HR in Virtusa-Mrs. Chandi Dharmaratne, Non Executive Director of Lankem  Ceylon – Mr Anthony Jeyranjan and many more.

The task is no longer easy. They work day and night, running up and down having endless meetings to make sure every one of them achieve targets. They are up to the slogan “work hard and party harder “. This is very much true if one witnesses their annual conferences and meetings. Quite elegant from beginning to the end with perfect organization which halts with heavy dancing and partying together. This is their culture. It’s a place where one can meet random people, make friends, work together and enjoy moments.

Hard work has paid them. They won the award for achieving the highest growth in Global Community Development program at NLDS 2013 (National Leadership development Seminar).

Samith concluded the story that way.

But he didn’t stop there. He said they’ll pull themselves into better stuff to bring the most exclusive to the young graduates and undergraduates. I like to say this. It is also because of the strong passion and the dedication of some people like Thilina and former members like Sunethi and Dilum have brought success to the Colombo North Committee.

Me being a part of them , it’s a place which always keep my life alive , too see them dance , to see them working like wounded horses , gasping with so much effort. This is what I call AIESEC . Not just AIESEC . It’s AIESEC Colombo North of the University of Kelaniya.

Let’s give them a big hurrah!


( Featured n 'The Nation'  newspaper in early July 2014)

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අනේ වෑ දිය හිඟ වුනත් ...

ඉර ගින්න යන්න අහකට 

ගල් තැලුම් කලුවෙලා 

ඇනෙන වැලි බොරළු කරවෙලා

රිදුම් දෙයි හිරිවට්ටලා 

අජන්තා සිතුවම් රටා 

තිරි භංග පිළි රුව වටා 

දෑඟිලි පිරිමදින කිරිගරුඬ 

සීතලට ගල් ගුළිවෙලා 

දිනකර මදක් අහකට යන්න 

අවු රිදුම් දෙපයෙන් මකා 

වඳින්නට හිත එක් තැන් වෙලා 

නිවන් මග නැහැ පැහැදිලා 

ගල් විහාරෙට උඩින් හමනා 

ඇල් පවන ගිම් නිවනවා 

අනේ වෑ දිය හිඟ වුනත් 

ගිරිතලේ නැහැ අඬනවා

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