Promises and Promise Keeping

When was the last you made a promise to someone?

‘I’ll take out the trash after dinner next time’

If you are the Boss in a workplace, there’s something your co workers will always like to hear. ‘I promise we’ll give you a promotion in six months’. How often have you done this?

We make commitments to others. Most often. But the question is – have you kept your promises? It is impossible to follow through on every single promise you make in life. But knowing how many you break and how much you handle is important. It will tell you who you are and what you are. Breaking promises communicate many things. It can make the other party feel that you don’t value him or her anymore. Even when you break small promises, others learn that they cannot count on you. Even tiny fissures in relationships that we build are marked by broken promises. Not keeping a promise is more the same as disrespecting yourself, I think. And at the end it can damage our self –image and self esteem.

Promises were pumped up. Heavily. A month ago. There was stage talk. A lot. It was quite a time for politicians to reminisce the forgotten promises. That’s how things are when elections are close by. But they are not ‘promises’ always. Politicians often forget what they  say as time passes by. So who on earth are they convincing? This is the election dilemma. Elections are commitment games. But they are not necessarily. Voters will support the most appealing policies. But who knows whether they will follow through? All we have is their word. Their assurance. Election promises are there for breaking .

Sure that voters weigh up the honesty of a candidate. But honesty shouldn’t be the only factor to determine who will be the best. Potential of a candidate matters too.

Anyway we have chosen who is going to lead us for the next few years. . It’s over. Finally. They have made their day under the sun. Ballet boxes gone. Some won. Some lost. Elections are like anything that we play. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes we laugh. Maithripala was lucky. And guess who did the trick? It’s like a bonus for many who wanted a change. However, it’s high time to shut up ourselves now. It’s done. Dusted.

Dusted?

Well, not apparently. People still sing and dance about the win and lose. Celebrations aren’t over. It’s upsetting to see what’s happening in Face book and other social media sites. Some throwing hate speech among each other on Mahinda –Maithri politics. Some utterly worried about the yahapalanaya. And some talking of separatism again. There’s something we have got to do. We need to throw away the word ‘separatism’ from our dictionaries.Badly. Those who talk of separatism and those trying to bring back terror need to understand a few things. LTTE is gone. Terrorism is dead. We’ve not heard of any unofficial use of violence since the day it was ended. That was in 2009. No bombs. No curfews. No roadblocks. So it’s quite obvious that the Northerners do need peace. And they have accepted peace. This is not time for racial politics or party politics. All we need is a unification of everything. And look forward to an uncorrupted and developed country.

In bringing all the change , development and what not , Maithripala has promised us a 100 day plan. 100 days are going to be hard. Some would be even harder unless there is enough money to drag in. And look at the cabinet. It’s not the kind of thing most people wanted. Sounds like those who couldn’t make their wishes come true have already made them. Be careful. What you wish for might not be what the voters want. Cabinets aren’t there to make wishes come true or for demotions or promotions. There again qualifications and competency matters.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve learnt that Maithripala won majority of the mandates. Thought it was him who defeated Mahinda. But things are confusing. I’ve heard some saying that old elephant story is back again. It’s more or less a Ranil show. Well, he under wooded things so far . Then what will happen to Maithripala’s promises? Will he do them by himself in coming days? Or are they going to happen the way Ranil wants?

Having said all these , let’s forget not carp at what is been done so far. There’s more to come. We are eagerly waiting to see the so called ‘ change’. People are watchful than ever before. Good luck with everything boy!


(Written for Colombo Telegraph , 26th January 2015)

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That Indifferent Mathematician*

He was only known through 'Committee Marys', 'Karate Mummies' and 'Avrils' wearing Gucci or Pucci or whatever. He came in colors. Soiled. Woven in thread and stitched between line and space .Who would know that the authorities don’t cut an unpaid telephone bill if you are white? According to him if you are white and you are in Colpetty, authorities won’t do that sort of a thing. Remember. Upali – who is expected to cook wearing Ralph Laurens, is a picture never forgotten. It fondly reminds me of an uncle, wealthy and has just got down from the USA, to whose room I broke into by mistake and came across a huge cupboard full of POLO shirts, draped, ironed and neatly hung.

At some point we have all wanted to travel through time. To meet people we’ve read, lands, animals and so on. That’s natural. We can visit people and places. If we want to. Time has a way of doing so. Time can bring you surprises. Thrill you at times. If you are lucky enough, it can bring you people and places that you have only seen in books or pictures.  And it just happened. It was a Monday morning. Quite gloomy. But a perfect Colpetty experience.  I met the Heraths, the old fashioned aristocrats, better halves and Colombo’s most eligible bachelors like Themis. All in one. In a nifty house. Old but colonial looking. With my bare feet on the cold floor. And framed pictures hung around.

 Now he lives in Colombo with his wife, his cholesterol, two kids, two six feet long garandias (found sometime back) and two dogs. Oh wait, the effing sugar levels too.

He thinks that everybody has a story. And that they should portray life in the way they see it. Not pre- conceptions or pre-recorded things or how an outsider sees it.  This is what he does all day and night.  He writes, reads and tells us stories. Perhaps he threads profound pathos, old age, ceremonies, the past, the present, the natives , the  foreigners , the absurd and those who are struggling to filter roots.

Ashok Ferrey, SriLankan born, was raised in East and West of Africa. He was packed off to boarding school at the age of eleven, in the wilds of Sussex. Ashok read Pure Math at Christ Church Oxford University. 

‘It was quite hard to find a good job over there. I went around London doing bum jobs and ended up in Brixton. I started restoring houses during the Thatcher Years.’ He said.

 He comes back to SriLanka later and continues to design and build houses. And in the meantime works as a visiting lecturer for City School of Architecture. He is a failed builder, an indifferent mathematician, barman, unpaid film extra and a personal trainer to the rich and infamous of Colombo. This is what he calls himself.

 ‘Not even in my wildest dreams I wanted to be a writer. I’m a building mathematician. A Pure Math nerd. I am shy.  I didn’t even want to do a reading of my first book when I was asked to. I was nervous’ Ashok interjected.

Everything starts for him in year 1999. When his father was diagnosed of a cancer. He remembers that it was actually distressing. ‘My mother was in pieces. I had to take Father to hospital. Stay near him. Doctors even refused to operate a defect valve he had. Some even told me to get ready to go to Raymond’s.’ There were days to think a lot. He says. There were days of sigh and quiver. Some days were discomforting. Nights were too long.  And eventually his writing was a catharsis. All the good and bad times were noted down carefully.

‘Things just poured out of me.The thing is, the more stressed I am, funnier the things I write’ laughingly he told.

He added that the twists and turns in life can be the most happening thing. He loves that kind of revolution. He believes that if he hadn’t welcomed the change he would have become a wealthy and boring Actuary by now.

Having lived and worked for 20 years in England, his writing is devised from his own life experiences. Like how it felt to live like an immigrant in a foreign surrounding, being trapped in different cultures and not being able to serve the bond with their homeland. He steals things from real life. And it’s mixed with some imagination. Real life people are disguised. Art needs a human touch. He thinks.

Ashok says we are as same as the Greeks. We have an amazing ancient culture that reached perfection 2000 years ago, and which now hangs over us.‘There is no way we can equal it today –but the sheer presence of it gives us a huge inferiority complex. Ancient things are held up for compare and comparison. We got to have great courage not to let it worry us. Instead to go ahead and do our thing’

He has been under the radar for quite a while. Literary Festivals and weeks of workshops have made him quite busy. He likes workshops because it’s enlightening to work with the young crowd. Above all being the curator of ‘Colomboscope ‘he wants to encourage youngsters to read literature and to write more and more.

‘The young are immersed in technology. Even those who read rely on online versions. They are condensed. You don’t get the real grip of a story. I believe that literary festivals and book readings can make people feel more enthusiastic about literature. There’s a lot happening around the world. But I don’t see such activities much in SriLanka.Sadly. India is even ahead of us’

Ashok does the illustrations for all his books. That’s the part he enjoys the most. He says. He noted that the Ashok Ferrey show was another initiative to encourage young SriLankans to take an interest in Arts. All too often our parents encourage us to take up a science or Maths, and the artist in us breaks through only much later. Ashok affirmed confidently. He fondly remembered the AF show days. The fun times. How strangers use to come up to him saying that the show helped them improve their English. The nitty gritty of television, how he was driven mad when he was made to look like a ‘bonikka’, plastering the stuff on , make –ups , the particular side he had to sit on and the days when director went mad when he sat on the wrong side. Everything has been new to him. They were days of new learning. He reminisced with a good laugh.

Hobbies?  Going to the gym. He does a lot of writing while gymming. Perhaps he mind writes them. He even conducts work-out classes at home. He likes to play Bridge a lot. He thinks that if all else failed, he could make a living playing Bridge for money! Ah, and it also includes pushing the car when it is out of petrol.

And then, one fine day he puts Colpetty People on manuscript, which one of his aunties wanted him to submit to the Gratien trust. He was ashamed and shy. He thought it was crap. But lucky him. Colpetty People was shortlisted for the Gratien Prize in 2002. This remains the biggest selling book even today. Maybe his thoughts and the wry humor took him a long way. He is not  just a ‘lucky one’. His work has brought prominence, blessed and made us laugh loud.  His recent book – Serendipity was short listed for the State Literary Prize. And his most (most) recent one; ‘The Professional’ is now out there.

He reminded that he was arrogant back then. Probably a wrong bend he took. He failed in many. He now discovers that being open to everything can take a long journey.  

Let his words take him far more, across seas and lands and tell us more about old kandyans , weird aunties , sarong-ed men in Beckham hairstyles  and the Colombo gossips- as per him where everything happens!

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Laughter makes you lighter. Did you Know?

There was this boy who liked being funny and annoying people by cracking jokes. He was a quiet one when he was a kid. He wasn’t much popular in class, didn’t give much concern for social interaction. He was that one who got As and Bs. This happened only until he was in secondary school. Things changed once he got to High School. May be that he wanted to make up the years of solitude he had been experiencing.  He started jumping from one to the other in the class. He didn’t bother about what others said. He launched rockets and paperclips at students and made fun of pasting pieces of stickers on other’s back, while others laughed. He was just trying to be rebellious.  He was the class clown. Students liked him for his jokes and easy-going qualities. He had lots of friends.  Do you recall being a class clown? Not everyone would. 

Being a class clown takes a lot more effort than one think. It’s not an easy task.  You’ll definitely have enough memories to laugh about later. And there are enough of bad days for them. Especially, when teachers went hard on them or got punished. The worst could be getting suspended. Class clowns are funny. And sometimes, being funny works. Having a keen ability to make people smile or chuckle will break the ice and allow them to feel more comfortable in your presence. Having a good sense of humor — for whatever reason — makes people feel that you are trustworthy. Laugh can do wonders. It can bring people together.

Most people take life too seriously. Life is about how we face problems, how we see things or it could be success and failure. There is a limit that our bodies can bear. And when the line is crossed, it all becomes stress. Too much of pain and headache. It can even break at times. Stress is a result of how we see things. We are always concerned about making and achieving goals. Take simple things. We plan what to have for lunch. When lunch is done, we plan the dinner. And then what to eat for next morning  etc etc. We calculate  deposits needed for another 10 years. We formulate what to be done in 2 or 3 years’ time.  We frame things. Life is an exercise of programming and executing. We line up things to be done.  Every day.  And if one of them fails, we keep grieving all day. This is too much. And this is what makes people fall mentally ill.  People rarely see the brighter side. A loss is always a failure. Being able to see a way out through humor and laughter can make life easy. No worries. It can let you fight life for a good long time. Those who know to make a good laugh out of their mistakes and pain take life as it is. While those who weep are unsuccessful.   

 I was a fan of Reader’s Digest years back.   Still there is collection saved on a side of my working table.  I remember lying on my belly at our living room with a copy of Reader’s Digest. The first to read was always ‘Laughter the best medicine’ section. And I use to relate them to Aththamma. She had a good laugh hearing them. I felt good when she was happy.  Feeling happy is always good, instead of fear or worry. You tend to laugh when others laugh. Even without reason. Don’t you?  You laugh looking at photographs. Or you’ll laugh seeing someone who looks like in hysterics.  It happens sometimes.

Laughter makes everything good. It helps us forget unhappy days.  This can be kid logic. Have you notice that it takes a long while for a grown up to smile or laugh? They feel shy. Or they think it’s unnecessary because of their grown up view over life. Sometimes they feel it’s immoral to take life light heartedly. This is why what’s funny for a youngster may not be funny for an adult. Most often.

Laughter is the best medicine. The Reader’s Digest was true. Do you know that laughter reduces physical pain, cure heart disorders and improves lung function? Do you know that it helps maintain healthy pressure levels and can make you live long? People aren’t having much fun. But it’s always good to crack something hilarious now and then. Make yourself a laughing club.

May be we got to be grateful to laughter. It helps us a great deal.


(Courtesy - The Nation newspaper , 11th January 2015)

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On winning and losing *

It’s the election night. And I’m writing this now. All campaign rallies are over. Not too noisy. No more trumpet sounds. Everything sounds peaceful and calm. Things are  better than I’ve thought.  Everyone has voted.   Almost many I think. We’ve done the duty for the day. It’s more than a duty though, a civic right. Perhaps. And so many promises to be   embraced. Some to be lulled at. Things are not too far away. Tonight and tomorrow we will assess and ponder about them. We will soon get to know who’ll be the leader. Who is going to lead us for the next few years.

Election is not just about patriotism. Or how much you love the country. Or the ground work you’ve done to the country. It also carries some other criteria. Track records of candidates are not enough. A creative manifesto is also something perceived by a voter. Or in other words who could bring a change. And in doing all these, campaigns are necessary.  Campaign powers are crucial. Because that is how candidates make aware an electorate. What voters come to know about their candidates are secondhand from newspapers, posters, flyers, television and radio.

The law says all candidates should be given equal opportunities in elections. They all should be kept on equal grounds.  But it never happens. Election is like a horse race. The one who makes it faster, the better. This is why you never can keep candidates on the same ground. One will always go ahead another. Political coverage is like a sports show. Likely elevated to the color and drama of an athletic event.  Content is what wins the day. The more it’s appealing and attractive, people are convinced. The tension, the drama and everything makes it an athletic contest. We live in a world of marketing and advertising.  And thus it’s inevitable. Visits to villages, orphanages, factory gates and toxic waste dumps are the life blood of electoral politics. Sometimes the number of leaflets and advertisements will win the day and the party who did not impress people that way might lose it. But you never can say it’s always the same.  Political coverage has its unexpected plays. They can create an uncertainty in the outcome.

It’s quite alright to do what the candidate likes. Using posters, advertisements or anything to reach the people. And whatever said and done, when the decision is made, it should be accepted with  decorum . You don’t win always. And you don’t always lose either. That’s the beauty of sport. Sometimes you laugh, and sometimes you cry. Same with anything in life. Even politics.

Winning and losing takes me  to Meerigama. Where most of my vacations were spent.

I often played cricket with cousin brothers. And out of them was the 8 year old cousin, Matheesha who always wanted to win. He needs to win. Winning, by whatever means, evokes a feeling of pride in young ones. Losing makes them feel ashamed. When playing games, they take pleasure in their victory and make fun out of our defeat. They make up their own rules , changing them for their advantage . And if they lose, they will throw game pieces , insist a do –over or refuse to play. These are earliest of my memories. And quick learnt lessons in life. That winning is a gleeful triumph. It’s something to brag about. Or boast.

We are mortal. We die unplanned. Things get lost .Things decay. They perish. People rise.  People fall. Like kites that fly high and fall back. When kites fall, we will pick them up and fly them again. All we need is some determination.  Defeat is nothing to be ashamed of. Defeat is nothing bad .  Defeat will let you know where you have gone wrong.  So the next time you won't  do that again.

There will be days where there is no wind. There will be days when there are no stars. Some days will be too dark. Too dark to even walk alone in the garden. But it won’t be the same always. There will be days you see stars moving, pulsing up the sky. There’s hope. There’s always a next time for those who lose this time.

We will get to know the winner and who loses. Sooner .And the one who loses will have to leave all things aside. Power, money and what not. Leaving things aside is ok. Because it’s a fleeting world. That is  why Buddha told Venerable Ananda this way just before his parinivana: ‘vayadhammā sankhara appamādena sampādethā’

( Nothing is permanent in this world , work hard for your own salvation)

The loser should retire with grace and the winner should treat victory with humility. That's the first step forward.

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Meanwhile in a parallel universe

Nights have been too noisy these days.  Rallies mostly. And some woo hoo –ing about   Maithri- Mahinda politics on streets and what not. Dogs barking. Horns. Chatter near the handiye kade. Viren stepped out of the veranda.  A dark shadow moved outside. That was Erath .  This happened just two days ago.  Erath  had a cup of milk. And Viren had his coffee.  9.00 pm from their time .They ditched dinner. Instead talked talked  and talked. This time it was different. They didn’t exactly talk about  University   stuff Neither aboutThaththa’s loku akka   , Amma or Nangi. Just got the transcript from Chandare, who had suddenly broken into Viren’s house for some invitation. In a parallel universe.

‘Oh darling! See how we’ve lost democracy’. Viren sighed.

‘ You mean that Demo bugger who works for Demo cars?’

‘What?’

‘I mean that Demo fellow. Our funny cheeky mate. He is crazy. Always!  Good to have him around for a hearty laugh.’

‘We need democracy back!’ Viren affirmed.

courtesy - www.cartoonstock.com

‘You mean you need some crazy time with Demo?’ Erath chuckled.

‘He’s alive man! Good and well. Why you saw him dying in dreams?  I can take you over there. Let’s go in the noon. Tomorrow for sure. We haven’t been to his for a long time. ‘

‘No boy. I’m not talking about that Demo.  You know what I mean. It’s D-E-M-O-C-R-A-C-Y. That funny kind of Government. Where there are Free Elections, Civil Liberties, so called Political participation and all other nonsense. Don’t tell me you didn’t know these.’ Viren groaned.

‘Oh I see. That Democracy. Wait. I learned it years back. So why suddenly a democracy?’

‘Hmm. By the way, how you see all these? I mean these elections and all drama queens and kings? ‘

‘Why on earth you should bother about all those? You’ve got a roof for sun and rain. You’ve got your kirikiththa’s plot of land for dowry. Enough money to fill your stomach. Two kids. A wife. What more are you looking for? Why? this ain’t enough for you? Well, you have enough space in the house. May be you can get some stray dogs in. How ethnic!’

‘This is no joking. You know. ‘The man was serious.

‘This is what I feel. Whoever comes in, all are the same brother. We never know which is worse. Until the devil comes and play all nadagam. We share this country with gullible coots. Morons everywhere. Especially those who run campaigns. All candidates are crooks after elections. They fall on others feet. Feed their families. And we are just dumb lambs that vote them for lunch. Simple thing. We just got to be blind. ‘

‘So   is it your achchi who is going to feed you rice and dhal every day? May be I’ll also join someday’.

What? Erath retorted.

‘Well doesn’t that mean you and your family has enough to spend? Money won’t win the day. Sorry for the bad news. But then, are we supposed to be puppets and let them dance their ball? Huh? They say its people and peoples’ government. Tell me what they do?’

‘Everyone wants to hang on the line. Save their chair for the next day.  So they will bring manifestos made by the candidates that the people are left to choose from... So, the authority is still with the politicos and not with the people because those are just options that the people get to choose from and not the assortment of things they really want to see taking place in their country. When there is election , this is what happens everywhere.’

‘Greed! Greed! Viren pointed out. That won’t do any good. A change is good. But the sad story is they bring a change for their dead father or to regain military powers. Half way through most of them forgets what they say. Look at them! Are we here to choose the most creative manifesto?’

‘Ok.It won’t happen this time. A change is sure. If you just browse up and down on Facebook, you ‘d trust me! Everyone believes a system change.’

‘Rubbish! Facebook politics is just a waste of cyber space. The only good thing it does is letting people share ideas. That majority in Facebook will not even clean their gutters to prevent spreading dengue. And want to see a change in the country. Especially the young ones. Like you. They are trying to be cardboard weerayo. They just go with the trend. Viren went on with a grin.’

Erath was confident. ‘At least we shout out what people need, let’s say’.

‘Shouting and screaming don’t work. It’s simple as this. You guys clean one side while dirtying the other. I’m beginning to realize this. We are no different from the USA. The crooks and games we play are same as theirs.’

So that’s good news?

‘No, but at least they are our saviors. They wish nothing but our wellbeing!’ Viren relieved Erath.

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I'm slightly materialistic. How about you?

End of November is when you settle all taxes and bills for the year. Same with a Government.  They’ll clear out all payments . Balance the debit and credit . Once this is done  you’ve got a clean state and a fresh start. December is all about fun and  to shop. And you will think of what to buy and what not to buy.  In preparation for the deep breath you are going to take tomorrow, begin to examine the way you approach money. That is a has- to- be done thing in Financing. That’s what   money keeping books say.

To shop and shopping isn’t anything strange.  It’s the shopping time for many SriLankans.  Some getting ready for the Aluth avurudda and some are for Christmas .Go out. Carefully look at the passersby. Even shops. Whether it’s a grocery, a cloth shop or whatever people are flocked in.  They will carry a hand full of bags. Even on rain drenched days. Shopping has no leave. Sometimes you just switch from shop to shop .And  you buy nothing. It’s the experience of shopping or the anticipation to buy things that makes us happy.

Right now my mind is a pickle.

The idea that money can’t buy happiness seems to be a myth. Richer countries are happier than poor countries. Richer people in rich countries are even happier. Evidence is undisputable. Some still think money makes you happy. You just have to know what to do with it. I think.

Stop buying too much stuff.

Try to spend more money on experiences. We think that experiences leave us with nothing to show to others. Take simple things. Experiences are often shared. First when they happen, then again and again we tell our friends. But are you ready to share what you buy with others? Or you think you enjoy what you buy over and over again?

Festive seasons are a testimony for this.  As the trend goes by, irrespective of gender politics and status everybody shops. Some shop in sophisticated super markets and some will stop at Pettah or Pamunuwa, well known for cheap stuff. Cheap or expensive doesn’t matter. You go on buying and buying. After the fun of Christmas or Aluth avurudda you are left facing a hefty bill. Some over shop and wrack up credit card bills to be backed by a parent or their partners. It can be hard to avoid credit pay in the festive season. But saving in the run up or buying what is most needed can soften the blow when all the fool is done and gone.

Things wear out, they get dirty, they perish, they get lost, and they break or get torn. When fixing isn’t possible we got to throw them. You‘ll buy a rug because it looks so pretty. You‘ll admire it the first few days. And time has a way of making it just a ‘rug’ thereafter. You aren’t happy with it anymore.

Buying is momentary happiness. And then you keep paying bills, loans and settling credit cards. Finding that paying is harder than buying. You’ll have to go through night shifts, extra working days or long hours of working. Especially for lower income earners. This makes us sad.  Think of a time you’ve bought some equipment because it looks pretty. Later you realize there is no purpose. Then it goes to the bin. How many billions would have we wasted this way? It would have been much nicer to go on a trip with all that money. Spend time with someone you love or like to have around you. They make us happy. Moments will be treasured later. Definitely. It won’t be a waste. Never.

If you  are slightly materialistic , nothing to be happy or to pat yourself on the back. Instead ask yourself  whether you can justify the materialism you engage in. If you are materialistic , you ought to think of a way to control it. Life is a collecting exercise, we know this. Some collect clothes, some vehicles , some lands , some gold , silver , furniture and what not. But we should be more decent about buying and collecting.

Have you noticed that what makes us more happier is the act of buying? and not about how we use things ? That’s experience. Especially when comes to things we merely want and not for what we want.

I realized a while ago that I’m slightly materialistic. For techie things. I feel ashamed. How about you?

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It's a fleeting world , I realized

There is a girl who is fond of little things. Little things like feeding ants sugar cubes. Ladybirds thrill her. She likes to watch sundown. Even sunset. She wants to know how spores turn into fungi so soon. And how   wind can turn into a tornado in seconds. She fell asleep earlier than usual one night. Before anybody else she was woken up the next day.  Gleaming rays of the sun were playing on her eyelids and woke her up.

Staying curled, a while on bed her eyes got tucked in a cobweb, shining like gold. Sunrise has casted orange on it. There was a brisk wind sweeping outside. The cobweb rocked back and forth.

Glass panes illuminated with colors made by the sunbeams. They changed time to time. From pink to blue. Looked yellowish at times. She leaned onto the window. With toes up. Gazed outside carefully. Her nose flattened against the glass window. The sky was filled with shades of red. From palest to deep crimson. There were splashes of pink rays. And some purplish blue patches. Here and there. Like spots formed from leaked ink.  Alluring.

Pic by Akila Peiris

She withdrew herself from the window. There was a nose print of hers left on the glass. The glass was misted up. She felt moist. The girl wanted her fingers on the print. But it didn’t take a long while. The mark vanished. In seconds.  The quick disappearance puzzled her.

Walk outside on a cold day. You see your breath as you exhale. And disappears in the air. It comes and goes in every new breath you take. When you take a hot shower, the bathroom mirror fogs or steams up. How long will you think this lasts for? Not hours. Probably. The mirror will soon get back to its original state. Clean and clear. If you have ever driven on the road on a rainy day, there’s something you would notice always. You will see fogged car windows. When windows are fogged you won’t see anything outside. This is why vehicles turn on their Air conditioners. To fix it sooner. Air conditioners remove the moisture inside the vehicles. Every time it fogs, the windows are been cleared. The process happens so fast.  Calculating isn’t possible. Sometimes we just don’t notice it happening.

You can write with your finger on fogged windows. Have you noticed that it won’t last long? They get washed away with new raindrops that fall on it. And then the fog forms again. Again you draw. And again it disappears. All happens at a rate of knots.

Say it’s a hot day. And to beat the heat you grab a bottle filled with cold water. A few minutes later you see the the glass coated with ‘sweat’ like water drops. The frost layer that was formed for hours is gone now.

Here’s a little exercise for you.  Wake up a bit early the next morning. Go out. Take a look at your garden. Watch the grass, plants and tress carefully. You might see small drops of water on them. It is dew. Not rain water. Dew drops are only in the morning. When sun rises high, brighter and hotter, they go away.

We like to play with water bubbles. Or with soap bubbles. Did you know that they burst as they rise up? Bubbles have a short life. They burst so fast. So fast that it pops up even before you try to catch them. I was taught that bubbles blow up because of oxygen in air that it reacts with.

Think of footprints in sea sand. Every step you keep on wet sand makes a mark of your feet. But they die with sea water. As you walk, there is foot print made. When one gets washed, another is formed.

This is how things are in a fleeting world. Even sunrise and sunset.  You don’t see the colors that form them always. May be that’s why we are so amazed by sunset and sunrise. Things change so fast. Like the falling rain that turns in seconds to a hot, sunny moment. Or a flickering lamp, a phantom or a dream. So do us. We are happy. Then sad. Angry. We feel difficulty and fear in loss.  

‘Change’ was  more prominent a few months old. Like the endless cross -overs and cross -backs in the occurring politics. 

Nothing disobeys ata lo dahama .

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