Saturday, June 28, 2014

My school has an unforgotten heartbeat*

Somebody told me that in France people kiss in streets. I think that is love, letting all fears go away. Nobody minds stealing kisses in public. Because to the love giver, it is giving. It is giving at any time. I think it’s nice. Love letting is easy. It’s easy with open words and open actions. There are people I have met. Many  left.  One or two are staying inside my heart. There are very few people I love. “One is loved...

Monday, June 23, 2014

Threads and hearts *

Some threads are heart woven. Knitted close to each. Sometimes to pull one by one out is difficult. I’m scared that everything might come out. It should be done with a lot of care. They are too tender. Only those who weave will know the art of pulling and putting them back right. Weavers are made of hard – wearing hands. They are patient, committed and watchful. If they stitch over the other, that would make a dress look ugly. When...

Sunday, June 15, 2014

George , Harold and Captain Underpants

On the left, is my friend Harold in green pants. He has bushy hair that grows upwards. Quite funny. But that’s how it is. I’m George, you see in blue pants. Harold is my best friend in school. We walk together every morning to school. Harold is scared of dogs. I carry big plastic injections filled with water to shoot at dogs that come around Harold. Harold is happy. Harold says I’m his hero. For me and Harold, school is too boring. There is...

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Rain and Heart

It's ten past in the morning in early June And I'm just seated here Blank and grim, A less speaking heart, some things straying inside some vanish like soap bubbles  So fast ,uncatchable. Papers and notes fly in air lost words and the  forgotten. Pen flips, Hands go mad, and it's raining here But one side blue and  the other is grey. I'm sure, Where ever you are it's still morning as mine may be in bright pastel color more warmed and smooth. And, among all flipping pen  , papers , blue skies and greys  there...

Love Things

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 tea...

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

The feet we keep

To the left  to the right the feet we keep  forward and backwards  the feet we keep  in and out the feet we keep on sand and soil  the feet we keep  on rock and cement  the feet we keep thorn and stone that pierce feet smiles and thoughts that fleet in speed ( Inspired by Thilina Brown Photograph...

Land

There is cut and erase of " render", replaced by others And for now it is more than an endnote big sized and bolded shaped in 'Italics', There is transfer and gift, Deeds of trust, Mortgage and recovery, Land acquisitions Title and declaration in millions and billions, in measure of gold, Kidneys for free 'lands for sale' And there is no pay toll for blood vitamin pumped to liver and fingertip So little and prized, I wonder why they wonder why Blood is cheap and land is sky- hi...

Sundown

( After Gordon Lightfoot) sundown , i'll creep into his room to a room he prays every morning  but no confess made in sunset. let there be dark just the moon , a few stars to feel better  in no shame to lie my back on his chest  get fastened to his blue jeans  and be warmed  skin deep . sundown , just hold on let my eyes  rest in hi...

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Track Field and Parallel Lines *

The grubby waters were gushing into the narrow drains. Pipes were cracked and blackish. They were too old. Time for new ones to come. The steaming hot rays wetted my t -shirt. I walked fast to climb up the bridge to cross the other side of the road. The aluminum like metal sheets that were fastened to some rusty wooden planks underneath were shaking. Far away stood some buildings that looked very colonial with huge windows and pillars. They...

Yakku saha Boothayo* ( Devils and Monsters)

After hearing to an year’s family law stories, he is very much ready to reveal  his stories on Administrative Law. He says, “they were lessons, not stories”. He fondly remembers the days. Mr. Nawaz is currently a Deputy Solicitor General. He is busier than a bee , naturally , a Royalist , scholarly and well read. A voracious katha malla too. It’s a blessing to have people like him who are experienced and well exposed. Two...

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Isso Wade

Among the  green, the little cement blocks, magnificent  canons ancient and heroic  is a token of remembrance  of peace and war. And among them  are some umbrellas, some cracked tables fixed together and vendors under the steaming sun disturbed by tears rolling down the galle face sand seated with trays full of newly fried isso wade  scrummy and drooling on market days . oh wait! even the Sundays there's no leave , no leave for isso wade  that tummies gulp in joy one after another to the tempting...

Rock , Weed and Hearts

rock and weed grimy waters sea salt and sea spray historic and labyrinth threadborn hearts bitten and bitten patched , then cross stitched  one- time and some time&nbs...

Friday, June 6, 2014

Things

Of all things, Blood and wire Thread and valve Scattered catacomb, I have saved some  heartbeats for y...

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Night Love

He curls he turns clenched fist to fist he snuggles  tied lip to lip ensconces one  coupled by breath to another  from fatherly notes to nocturnal  songs of kites and rainbows of butterflies and angels that rise and fall the night and day  he nuzzles and fondles skin warmed and ease the moans from nightmares  of all sorts&nbs...

Northern Toll

Under the heating skies of Kankasanthurai the sweat streaked  down my legs . They landed on the neat tarred road  in drops like , there was little wind  that cooled wet cheeks. A little ahead , in Elephant Pass there was sun set one side  and one raised voice "hey you, there is sun rise on the other." A little more to Aiyyakachchiya to the water wells of healing powers, a few more kilometres  drove to Ariyale from the old to new roads, old and new points, teared eyes were gulped warm hugs slipped  sweeping...

Suicide is not the last resort

I don’t remember her name. She was only 16 years when she jumped off a building from its 7th floor, early one morning. Nobody knew she was gone. Not even her dearest friend, until her body was found lying on the ground. This was 10 years ago. There were many stories about her.  She was always neglected by her parents. Often her older sister was praised for academics. She has failed in math, and has been afraid how mad and disappointed her mom would be. She didn’t want to hear her mom’s growls. She didn’t want to get beaten. Things had been...