Some books are made in heaven

 In late June I received a text message to my phone. It said:

Hi, exams are starting from next week. Did you know? Time tables are up.

With a deep sigh, I went looking for a CR book on my table. There were subjects written on its back cover, which I was supposed to take in the second year. Six subjects .Turning pages from front to back, there wasn’t a single note. Next early morning the first thing in my list was to go to university. As I climbed the steep mountain like road to the Faculty of Social Sciences, my calf muscles were aching. There were farewells exchanged on the way and a few questions and answers as to why I’m not to be seen in university. I said nothing, but just smiled. It is like meeting people after a year or two.

I go to university. I’m lazy to attend lectures and prefer to hang around with ‘long-time-no-see friends,’ read some poetry or fiction or at least to be inside the AIESEC office.

I rushed through the time-table. Saved the dates in my phone. I had to look for notes. After several calls, I made my way to a friend who lived close to University. Got a few notes photocopied. Some on International Economics, International Law and the rest was on Human Resources Management. That was very little though. Wonder if one could even answer a three hour paper using them. Three more subjects were pending notes. Hardly anyone could help me with finding notes this time. It took me another three days to find notes on a module for Mass Communication. A Graduate from another University helped me with it. I barely had an idea of what to study. In fact, I didn’t know the syllabuses.

Things get lucky at times. Some friends are gifted. Just a call can fix things. I felt privileged.

I heard that the university library has past paper collections for every subject. It wasn’t easy to find them. I had to take down past paper questions for subjects that I didn’t have notes for. At least, questions will guide me to find things to study, I thought.

Answers for the questions in past papers didn’t appear on Google. Even after typing key words in different ways. It did work for International Economics. I learnt the Production Possibility Curves, the Indifference Curve, Ricardo’s Comparative Theory, Smith’s Absolute Advantages of International Trade and many more online.On such days, I regret not continuing A/Ls in the math stream. I took physics, combined mathematics and double maths for A/Ls. It took a year to realize that Arts might treat better because of the little commitment I had. I like numbers. Numbers make me more comfortable. Less theory. Practice will get things going.

There was a lot more remaining to know. There were 10 days remaining for the exam.'Usas Adyapanaya' is a big word. For many Sri Lankans. I will call it killing and torturing. People learn and learn, repeat the same questions at exams and the majority are parrots that vomit things out on a piece of sheet. They go out of Higher Educational Institutes and file cases at courts where law may not even permit remedy for such an instance .I don’t see any new knowledge coming out from University. Heads are rather blocked. We only think of a way to escape assignments and exams. In University terms they call it 'kota udin yama'.

Every now and then, the Colombo Public Library serves me better when exams arrive. Creeping through heaps of books, I found what needed to be studied. When reading through texts, answers were gleaming. There were broad smiles. Consequently, I knew things. Photocopied notes did nothing.  I read every book and noted down the needy facts. There is greater wisdom in books, believe me. When books fell open, I fell in. Grabbed everything as much as I could. Learnt everything possible.

The second year’s first semester exams are almost done. For one and half year’s time, books in the Colombo Public Library saved me for exams. Even this time. When lectures were set aside. Life is good that way. 

Some books are made in heaven.

Featured in "The Nation" on 27th July 2014

http://www.nation.lk/edition/free/item/31592-some-books-are-made-in-heaven.html

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Absence

Your absence has gone through me 

Like thread through a needle. 

Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Woven in distance and tear

To my heart and me,

it's only you.

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An Ode to Drummer

Aye!

there is forgotten wound

and blood clot

in thimble

and musicology

to the drum and canister

that resonates beat

in reverence

to the guardian deities,

heart pounding and titillating,

heart fingers to diminish evil

stiffened by cane

and fractured palm.

There is no break

during 'thevava'

to your wrinkled feet,

spinning head

in eye blink ,

topknot that flourish in air ,

majestic and arrogant,

because it is

honor bestowing

privilege than business.

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Drum dies with Drummer

Drums are not to be seen much in streets now. Not even a beggar who could entertain passersby with a drum. Instead, I came across some beg… sorry, some flutists and some with mouth organs recently. Music is like the beat of drum that keeps time with our emotions.

Drums can look dreadful and deadly. They did for me. Some big and tall, heavy and fat and barrel like or bowl shaped.  And there was wonderment. There was questioning as to how drummers can get hold of such heavy instruments. I was dumb back then.

Growing up doesn’t necessarily mean you are not going to be dumb anymore. I could be dumber than I was as a kid, now.Two years back, I was 20, when my family made the journey twice to Kandy. Once it was alms offered to Dalada Maligawa by a relative. The second was the Katina poojawa organized and financed by one of the family friends. Unlike the alms, Katina had more things to be done. There was so much of preparing. We stayed in Kandy for two days. We were obliged to carry out the thevava (daily rituals) in Maligawa, in other words to offer Gilan pasa before night break and kiri pindu poojawa at dawn. Of everything I saw thevava grabbed my ears and eyes.  It starts with the hewisi pooja, the drumming at the hewisi mandapaya at the Pahala Maluwa. The drummers played continuously for hours and hours. No tea breaks or breaks for water. Even then I wondered how drummers spot the exact place to get the rhythm going, do they know if they are playing the right note and aren’t there palms and legs going hurt when playing for hours and hours? But these questions were kept in heart. Thevava is not done just for a day, but every morning and evening. I realized there will be even more drumming on days like Pasaloswaka poya, Perahara and Wednesdays, where a special thevava is conducted.

It is exciting to see another drumming. It is a pleasure to listen and admire an expert drummer’s improvisations. Especially to see the hands and heads moving in an eye blink. There is so much power and presence that hits the backbone and pulse, makes us sit up straight, stunned and eyes wide open. It is mysterious and will always be a mystery. I learned that drum is like heartbeat, the breath, the rain and thunder. There is blood pulled in and out the capillaries of hands that touch it’s taut membrane. There is big noise at once, lowered again and runs fast touching  the tip of notes and slowly drifts putting a halt to the show. Drums are fascinating; drummers are a spellbinding creation for me. For example, the drummer will always know the notes by heart and for the listeners, some beats are unforgettable.

Recently, a photograph captured by Hiranya Malwatta, a friend only known through Facebook, got stuck in my mind. She had captured a ‘hewisi drummer' at Ambakke Dewalaya in Kandy. There were more pictures of drummers. The photograph took me all the way to the thevava in Dalada Maligawa, the drums and drummers I witnessed. The recollection ended with a little note to a drummer in the imperfect English I know.

Aye!

There is forgotten wound

and blood clot

in thimble

and musicology

to the drum and canister

that resonates beat

in reverence

to the guardian deities,

heart pounding and titillating,

heart fingers

to diminish evil

stiffened by cane

and fractured palm.

There is no break

during “thevava”

to your wrinkled feet,

spinning head

in eye blink ,

topknot that flourish in air ,

majestic and arrogant,

because it is

honor bestowing

privilege than business.

I don’t know the technical aspects of drumming, but there is ‘talking drum’ about what we believe and our traditions. There is a lot of learning, like patience and gratitude. There is humble culture and people connected with drum. I learned that one drummer‘s style cannot be followed by another. It’s always different.

Above everything when the drummer dies, the drum dies too. Because only a drummer will know his beats and the degree of pace to keep with his companions.

(Featured in "The Nation" on 2014 July 20)

http://www.nation.lk/edition/free/item/31372-drum-dies-with-drummer.html#sthash.kfhwbZh8.dpuf

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Civil Bomb

There is unknown corpse

with a 

Known ‘bullet’

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On Burning

I'll erase

the heart scars

with sandpaper and white chalk

but,

did you know

there is fire burning

even thicker than

the candlewick?

( Inspired by Sajana Ratnayake's photography)

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Law College is doing it again!

There is blue sky. There are petalled hearts. There are bees with winged wheels, flying far away. There is stick and hand that beats to the whimsical tunes. There are words. Words that I die for. I like the word “ensconced”. Once I used this word in a poem titled “hearts”. There was repetition of “ensconced”. I read the word again and again.

“Ensconced” means to settle someone in a comfortable place.

Words come in different textures. There are sad words, happy words, angry words, words that surprise us, hate words and then words that annoy us. When all words get to gether, there is discussion and debate. There is art of doing things. Even to talk, to discuss and debate. There are people who enjoy talking; some can entertain others through debate and talk, while some will make others relaxed and peaceful. Such ability is innate, I think.

Romesh De Silva is one of the lawyers I love to see talking. Especially when trials are taken up at courts. Well-disciplined and gut feeling. His words are power ridden. They are intense and exciting. He knows the art of talking back. There is no serious hurting. Beautiful! I was retold an incident that had happened in courts sometime back when Romesh De Silva took up a case before a judge.

“The Judge was furious. Romesh was not too old in the profession. The Judge knew that Romesh could do rebels in court. These young puppies should be locked in kennels, the Judge screamed. Romesh calmly stood up and said, it’s time for old dogs to be taken away from the kennels sir. There was anger boiling within. “

This is what one should master. Not necessarily to hurt somebody , to fight or to bend heads down when critisisms come in your way . In the profession, one should know to keep their heads up. It’s a blood sport. Your words are your weapons. Good lessons for every Lawyer and Lawyers to be.

The SriLanka Law College, since its inception, have been conducting moots, mock debates and debating tournaments to teach the art of talking and arguing. English debating is rare in the Higher Education System of SriLanka. There is a need to create a proper debating forum at University level. Thus Law College is now in its way to bring all Local Universities together. Hulftsdorp Debates are coming soon!

“Hulftsdorp Debates “is an effort of the English Literary Association of the Law College. This year’s competition will mark its third tournament in the running as the premier Higher Educational English Debating challenge in the Island. It’s very first competition was won by the Law College in year 2012 after a tight fight with the Arts Faculty of Colombo University , University of Kelaniya ,University of Sri Jayewardenepura and  University of Peradeniya.

2013 was significant with many changes that occurred in the competition. A Novices championship round was introduced for the teams that did not qualify for the championship round. This was officially won by University of Jaffna while Law College became the Runners Up. Novices were exclusively for any two teams that haven’t participated in tertiary level debating competition. This was an effort taken by the debating organizers to encourage debating, provide recognition and opportunity for the participants.

Law College being the initiative of such competition, they are happy that participants are increasing now. The Law Faculty of Colombo University, University of Jaffna, University of Sabaragamuwa and Kotalawala Defence University also became a part of the tournament last year. That year Arts Faculty of Colombo University became Champions while Moratuwa University were  the Runners Up.

Hulftsdorp Debates 2014 is scheduled to be taken up at the Law College premises on the July 26th and 27th. The Debators’ Council like last year will oversee the tournament.

Debating is popular in the field of Law, Politics and Humanities. But it is important that every one of us learn to articulate our ideas despite what career we may follow up. Because learning to believe your ideas and being brave enough to put them out is what gives birth to honesty and genuineness.

Let’s wait and see how words will ride heart chariots, twist tongues and turn heads at Law College soon.

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"Athak Dunna fun Ekak" *

You and I would think that the heart is important than anything. There is membrane. There are valves. If you sob and sob, membranes might break. Because they are too tender. Yes. Heart is important. It is what keeps us alive.

Day before yesterday SriLanka Law College celebrated one of its prestigious events in the academic calendar. It was “Vihangasara”, the singing competition of the year to select the best voice of all those in Law College. I was once a competitor for” Vihangasara”. That was last year. But this time I decided to become a spectator and listen to one of my favorite voices in Law College. That is Nissanka Ayya’s. Many eminent artists were there. There was Nadeeka Guruge and even Upul Shantha Sannasgala. Sannasgala’s speech was somewhat remarkable. This is how a part of it went.

“We all have hearts. It pulls blood in and pulls out blood. We hear the lub and dub that occur in sequence with each heartbeat. Heart murmurs are generated by turbulent flow of blood. Heart is a lump of tender muscles. But I wonder if all SriLankans have hearts. Majority in this country live with conspiracy, lie, anger and hatred. I see that many are heart less. I don’t call every lump of muscles a heart. I think that those who feel the pain of others and those who care others effortlessly are the ones with a heart. “

His words took me to a few days back. Aluthgama created horror and disgust, fear, threat and arguments. Some thought we were heading to another ethnic conflict. Some said it is another Black July. But it happened in June, by the way. In the middle of all these things, there was a significant change in profile pictures on Facebook. Many changed their profile pictures that picked up the line “Stand against Racism” or something similar to this sentiment.  There was hand, fingers spread out. And a tiny map of SriLanka on its palm. It was a simple implication of “No!”. Most of these profile pictures came in a yellow background. Later I came across the same picture with both green and yellow. No doubt, the colors are an indication of Buddhists and Muslims, where both communities were in conflict. Whether it’s green or yellow, do we need colors to represent us?  . We don’t mind our best friends being Sinhala, Muslim or Tamil. Sometimes we only realize that a friend is Muslim or Tamil or Sinhala when they invite us for their festivals. A Muslim won’t simply become friends only with a Muslim. A Sinhalese won’t only become friends with a Sinhalese. Friends are friends. There is no choice of race, nationality or color for friends. The brilliant thing about this country  is the different cultures we share. So many festivals and different lifestyles. Colorful and vibrant. A rare composition. Need I say more?

Let’s leave away this heavy politics and conflicts. While browsing through Facebook, yesterday I came to know of a Community group called “Athak Dunna fun Ekak”. The creation of this group was a result of the” hand” that went viral among the SriLankans against Muslim – Sinhalese attacks. Looking at the page advertisement in my newsfeed, my first thoughts were that as usual people are trying to cry, weep and stand on Facebook on behalf of an entire country.

I was wrong.

The content was different. It was nothing but “atha gana katha”. There is atha (hand) and many sayings related to “atha”.

“Atha bala sasthara kiyanu labe” , “Atha dennata pakilenna epa” , “Atha kasanawa” , “ Dawasata  pas sarayak atha hodanna” . There is so much to do with hands. Hands talk.“Dhana rekhawa” on the palm of a hand will forsee  ones wealth. “Iri thuna” ( three lines ) down the little finger would tell the number of marraiges that a person will go through.  Interestingly “atha” comes in songs too.

“Atha mita kasi panam honda hati thiyanawanam”

“Nona mata atha wananawa- api okkoma eyata ba kiyanawa”

“Athata atha dee  hithata hitha dee , ralla wilasin enna perali”

“Atha dennam thaththe wandi gewanna”

We use our hands so much we never think about it. We use hands to push, to pull, even to measure length or width, to count or keep ourselves organized. We use hands to say hello, goodbye, to show reverence to God, to worship or praise or to show appreciation at a concert. Hands build or destroy, heal and hurt. There is touching, grasping, feeling, caressing, sexual pleasures and more. Hand is common . Often used to imply things . We hear people say “athe sathe na” (no money in hand) when they are running out of money.

Of all things  I have heard ,some say “ eya nathiwechcha eka hariyata nikan athak nathiwuna wage” (Loss of a person is like losing an arm)Loosing hands or having injured hands would cause trouble. It will be hard to accomplish even daily activities like drinking and eating. A loss of something will always cause frustration . So you see , there is hand as equally important as the heart .

I remember an old Sinhalese proverb . “Thama hisata thama athamaya sewanalla”. There is nobody who really helps but one’s hands will. Haven’t you noticed when you get caught in rain without an umbrella, automatically  your hand covers the head?

(Featured in "The Nation" on 6th July 2014)

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