After the post about the Doomsday scenario the subject of dying has turned up once again. I have written elsewhere about this and only reinforce the point that I maintain as my principle to take the trouble to visit somebody when they are alive. It shows you care enough as opposed to the obligatory visit when they are dead. In any case I am not aware of attendance registers maintained by dead folks, but I may be wrong. If a relative has died then the circumstances of course would be different but there again who knows the status quo between relatives?
I hate funerals and avoid them like plague. The drama of the grieving and the sometime absurd lengths that the whole process is fraught with is something I find hard to cope with. And most of the time I find it very difficult to use the right words to express sympathy effectively. But in all situations I am faced with I do find exceptions when it matters to me.
One of the Cooks of the half way home had lost her husband a couple of day’s back who had died after suffering a heart attack. She was one of the better persons in the Institute and I genuinely felt sorry for her. But I didn’t know her husband and till I heard of his death I wasn’t aware that she had a husband who was alive! Mind you I have been here since July 2008. Nevertheless I felt obliged to pay a visit to her house when the body was brought for mourning and felt a hypocrite at the end of it all. The absurdity of the sentiments she expressed with her grief made my Serendipity laugh when I shared them with her yesterday. So much so for empathy with human suffering!
The Cooks younger Sister owns the shop where I purchase my cigarettes and the shop had been closed the last couple of days which was a quite an inconvenience and was I relieved that the funeral was last evening and the shop was open this morning when I went for my regular purchases. The Sister is very fond of me and naturally the conversation was all about her dead Brother in Law and I in my morbid curiosity had to find out all the background information which of course was freely available.
I learned all about the dead man and his fine attributes; I wonder how many of them were invented after his death? It was idle gossip on a bright Tuesday morning and was interesting in so much that here was a guy who had no record of heart problems, was just going to turn 60 in couple of months and the only known condition was blood pressure for which he was being treated for some time now. Apparently he had complained of a severe chest pain in the wee hours of the morning on that fateful day and had been rushed to the main hospital nearby.
What is astounding is the fact that he had been talking normally and walked into the ward and it was only after the Doctor had performed the ECG that it transpired he had already suffered a massive heart attack and wouldn’t survive for long. The Doctor had dispatched everybody out the room and kept only the Son next to the man and as expected the convulsions and shuddering’s followed soon and he died very quickly.
On hearing this I said a quick prayer, and I hoped that whoever the God in charge of me heard it, which echoed and requested from the all mighty to ensure that when my time was up to please ensure that I go walking talking and fall dead in a jiffy! The Sister put it very well, in Sinhala she said “Suba Marane! Apita thamai Duka”. A good death! We live with the sorrow.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
DOOMSDAY ???
I was asked the question by my Serendipity what I thought about the end of the world during one of our chats. I replied pithily “Haven't we had so many of them?” She laughed or rather the emicon did. But strangely enough this subject came up again when I was told that there were many emails circulating around in Colombo about this by a very good friend of mine when we met for lunch last Sunday. Yesterday this question was posed by the former and asking me to write about it in my blog. Hence this posting.
I wasn't really planning to do so today but I heard a very interesting discourse about the subject this morning on national television by a Buddhist prelate for the full moon Poya Day sermon. His perspective which reflects that of the Buddha based on his teachings set me off to think about this in more detail.
The first I heard about the end of world was a prediction about how a nuclear war would annihilate the whole population of the world. This was during the hey day of the cold war period. I was very young at that time and I could barely remember the details of the Cuban missile crisis. It was in 1962 and I was 14 and more interested in matters of sex rather than a stand off between the USA and USSR. The other that comes to my mind is the 1979 Three Mile Island Nuclear Accident in Pennsylvania, USA. I was 21 years old then and had been sailing over three years.
But there was no connection of these events in the context of the end of the world. I mean I had heard about how if their was a reactor melt down the whole darn thingamijig would end up at the other side of the world probably in the middle of China and the absurdity of any object let alone nuclear would survive the heat at the Earths core was hilarious. But I remember a debate at that time about whether spent fuel rods were being dumped in the Oceans. The average life span of these things according to Scientific American's definition is a “Trash heap deadly for 250,000 years!”
The first time I started thinking about the end of the world was after I had seen a movie about what a global Nuclear disaster would mean to humanity. It was a documentary, unfortunately I can't remember the name now, and the conclusion was humanity would be wiped out and the insects, especially cockroaches would reign supreme on the planet. Not a very bright prospect for a young boy to contemplate on a Sunday afternoon. The second time was also after watching another movie, again I can't remember the name and it concluded that God will ensure that only the maimed, deformed and sick will be the chosen as his children when the world ends. That left me rather confused about God's whole business of justice and fair play. The third was a song by the Rock Band Rush from their Album 2112 (1976),the opening track ending thus;”and the meek shall inherit the Earth!” These were all the thoughts that I had when this when this subject arose.
The sermon I heard this morning was on a totally different line and I have taken the liberty to use it and interpret it to conform to what my views are about the end of the world. According to the teachings of the Buddha, and I am no expert I am just repeating the gist of what the prelate preached. Human beings are now at a stage where life expectancy is at its 100's. That is some achievement considering what it was a couple of centuries ago. What has been happening of late, and this does make sense, is the isolated natural disasters that have been occurring at alarming frequency and at greater intensity in the last 10 odd years. Take Sri Lanka for instance, the Boxing Day Tsunami of 2006, The unheard of floods last year, a crack on the earth surface in Trincomalee. Look at the world Haiti and now Japan. Japan is really frightening as I was told that the Earths orbital position had shifted! The havoc this may play on the weather this year is to be seen. The solution was to come to terms with living life properly now as opposed to finding hiding places from these events. At the end of the day you can't cheat death. Then of course the discourse became boring and irrelevant to me. But I do concur there is no way one can really prepare for Mother Natures wrath. It is horrific, unexpected and devastating when it happens. If you are caught in it all you can hope for is a quick and merciful death unless you are a sadomasochist and want to live on after an agonizing wait for rescue and survive minus vital parts of your body. I don't but I don't hold a grudge against anybody who does. I prefer dying fast and as painlessly as possible because I don't want to live minus anything and I doubt my personality is built of that kind of heroic efforts to survive and live to tell the tale!
If at all there will be an end of the world it would probably be a change in our global environment. We are more likely to face frequent natural disasters,severe climate change and probably a short supply of water and food. What would it mean ? Survival of the fittest! The only thing that would make this equitable is, as I don't believe money would be able to buy anything at that time and being powerful wouldn't even come into the equation, is a level playing field. The alliances we form and how we play by new rules will be the only guarantee of the collective survival of the species. And maybe at last we will learn to protect our planet and respect not only Mother Nature but each other.
I wasn't really planning to do so today but I heard a very interesting discourse about the subject this morning on national television by a Buddhist prelate for the full moon Poya Day sermon. His perspective which reflects that of the Buddha based on his teachings set me off to think about this in more detail.
The first I heard about the end of world was a prediction about how a nuclear war would annihilate the whole population of the world. This was during the hey day of the cold war period. I was very young at that time and I could barely remember the details of the Cuban missile crisis. It was in 1962 and I was 14 and more interested in matters of sex rather than a stand off between the USA and USSR. The other that comes to my mind is the 1979 Three Mile Island Nuclear Accident in Pennsylvania, USA. I was 21 years old then and had been sailing over three years.
But there was no connection of these events in the context of the end of the world. I mean I had heard about how if their was a reactor melt down the whole darn thingamijig would end up at the other side of the world probably in the middle of China and the absurdity of any object let alone nuclear would survive the heat at the Earths core was hilarious. But I remember a debate at that time about whether spent fuel rods were being dumped in the Oceans. The average life span of these things according to Scientific American's definition is a “Trash heap deadly for 250,000 years!”
The first time I started thinking about the end of the world was after I had seen a movie about what a global Nuclear disaster would mean to humanity. It was a documentary, unfortunately I can't remember the name now, and the conclusion was humanity would be wiped out and the insects, especially cockroaches would reign supreme on the planet. Not a very bright prospect for a young boy to contemplate on a Sunday afternoon. The second time was also after watching another movie, again I can't remember the name and it concluded that God will ensure that only the maimed, deformed and sick will be the chosen as his children when the world ends. That left me rather confused about God's whole business of justice and fair play. The third was a song by the Rock Band Rush from their Album 2112 (1976),the opening track ending thus;”and the meek shall inherit the Earth!” These were all the thoughts that I had when this when this subject arose.
The sermon I heard this morning was on a totally different line and I have taken the liberty to use it and interpret it to conform to what my views are about the end of the world. According to the teachings of the Buddha, and I am no expert I am just repeating the gist of what the prelate preached. Human beings are now at a stage where life expectancy is at its 100's. That is some achievement considering what it was a couple of centuries ago. What has been happening of late, and this does make sense, is the isolated natural disasters that have been occurring at alarming frequency and at greater intensity in the last 10 odd years. Take Sri Lanka for instance, the Boxing Day Tsunami of 2006, The unheard of floods last year, a crack on the earth surface in Trincomalee. Look at the world Haiti and now Japan. Japan is really frightening as I was told that the Earths orbital position had shifted! The havoc this may play on the weather this year is to be seen. The solution was to come to terms with living life properly now as opposed to finding hiding places from these events. At the end of the day you can't cheat death. Then of course the discourse became boring and irrelevant to me. But I do concur there is no way one can really prepare for Mother Natures wrath. It is horrific, unexpected and devastating when it happens. If you are caught in it all you can hope for is a quick and merciful death unless you are a sadomasochist and want to live on after an agonizing wait for rescue and survive minus vital parts of your body. I don't but I don't hold a grudge against anybody who does. I prefer dying fast and as painlessly as possible because I don't want to live minus anything and I doubt my personality is built of that kind of heroic efforts to survive and live to tell the tale!
If at all there will be an end of the world it would probably be a change in our global environment. We are more likely to face frequent natural disasters,severe climate change and probably a short supply of water and food. What would it mean ? Survival of the fittest! The only thing that would make this equitable is, as I don't believe money would be able to buy anything at that time and being powerful wouldn't even come into the equation, is a level playing field. The alliances we form and how we play by new rules will be the only guarantee of the collective survival of the species. And maybe at last we will learn to protect our planet and respect not only Mother Nature but each other.
Friday, March 11, 2011
PERCEPTIONS
One of the reasons I started writing the other side of the coin in August 2008 was to record the perception I was viewed by those around me and in turn how I viewed them. This lead to the concept of using these perceptions as the foundation to writing and in my view an ideal medium to document 50 odd years of my existence on this Planet. This blog came much later almost a year after in 2009 and until very recently very little was done with it. Initially I was hoping to use the blog to publish my book but I dropped that idea very quickly and opted to use a free web host for my book and structure my blog differently. This is what I have been doing of late and I have been posting more regularly.
Anyway my views and those of others about me since 2005 when I was diagnosed as Bi Polar hasn't changed over the last six odd years. The conclusion I had drawn that no matter how hard I tried I would always be perceived as Bi Polar and whatever I did wouldn't make a difference in perceptions about me, was a bloody depressing reality. When I think of the murmurous occasions I have fought trying to change these perceptions I am amazed at my own tenacity. I had also very unfortunately and stupidly resigned myself to this and very uncharacteristically of me come to accept this. This goes to shows at least to me, especially now, how perceptions can be so obnoxiously misleading and fixated in your thought process.
This point was driven home in the last week of January, early February this year when a new comer was invited to the half way home to observe the workings of the Institute with a view to join as a Trainee Counselor when she completed her Degree. My initial reactions to her presence were one of indifference when I first saw her sitting at the reception area. I assumed she was a visitor to the Institute. The next day I saw her standing outside the office when I was going for my morning walk dressed in a Sari watching the female Residents doing their morning exercises. Something clicked at that time. I wanted to get to know her. My behavior was observed by one of the Counselors who I remember giving me a knowing glance! I can still remember the feeling of excitement the view I had of this new comer invoked.
Subsequently I found out that she would be here for two weeks.I approached her with a comment about her name which I deliberately mixed up with a catchy Tamil nick name of a hit film of some fame which I had watched on numerous occasions as a child and enjoyed the peels of unbridled laughter it provoked. This encounter quickly developed in my sharing what I had written so far on my book and the collections of short stories for her comments. Her observations had an impact and I found the inspiration I needed to focus and start getting back to writing again which I had neglected for quite some time now.
Once we had started talking to each other regularly she told once that in the morning discussions that are a part of the staff and management every day at the Home that when asked to commented on the subject as to who she found most interesting at the home she chose me. I was riled. Quite frankly I think I am much more than interesting, my antics in this Institute are stuff that legends are made off! In any case boy have I proved her so wrong! What was even more annoying was that it was I who had initiated contacted as I wanted to find out more about her. "Me relegated to interesting! Huh!" I remember thinking. Little did I know then I too was in for a shock and about to end up with my Serendipity.
It was around this time I was once again getting pretty tired off the fact that everybody I had come into contact with ended up with same conclusion as to my behavior being caused by Bi Polar that I thought to myself why don’t I sound her off as to what she thought? My logic was impeccable she had seen me for less than a week and I had shown her my writings and spoken to her at length about myself and maybe this time I would get a more balanced perspective? I was extremely disappointed that she had the same opinion as everybody else! But this galvanized me and prompted me to do something about it.
The seven months preceding her arrival to the Institute had been really tough on me. I was in a catch 22 situation with the assignment I had undertaken to asses my skill levels to see how I would be able to reintegrate myself back into the IT field. Unfortunately circumstances didn’t quite allow me to explore my potential and had I started bitching about the issues I was facing I would have sounded extremely ungrateful and resulted in hurting people who actually cared about me. It is all about the perceptions I live with and am living with daily. I couldn't express anything to anybody. I couldn't even get a chance to see my psychiatrist alone. The only time I indicated I wanted to do so ended up in a misunderstanding. I was getting right royally screwed. The assumptions everybody was were making were so out of whack and I couldn’t get my point of view across! This naturally resulted in behavior on my part leading to the conclusion that I am incapable of handling work or any other responsibility which in turn fuelled a further buildup of my frustration and no avenue to vent my emotions! All I knew was that I was on a high dosage of drugs and had no choice and resigned myself to accepting it, which was very conveniently interpreted as the treatment was working! Inside I was seething! I finally blew a fuse and went to a Physician for an opinion. He looked at the high dosage of the drugs I was on and to use his own words opined “allowed but high!!!! “ I am awaiting my blood reports on the 14th of March with trepidation!
The seven months of shuttling between Colombo and the half way home was also telling on me. I was going through a major identity crisis with no place to really call my own and not having the space to just be on my own. I was unable to function without depending on circumstances and other people to do anything meaningful. This is something I abhor! I like to start my day knowing that I can finish achieving all my objectives within the time frame I set for myself. The half way home was probably the best alternative under the circumstances but at that time it was also not fully geared to cater to my requirements and a lot of what I had planned had to be postponed pending my Sisters arrival in Sri Lanka on the 6th of February 2011. On top of this I was involved in all kinds of liaisons; fortunately I didn’t get into any serious trouble because of them.
I used to walk in to the reception area of the office here in the morning and be very cheerful and pleasant. Flirting with the female staff, joking and generally being extremely exuberant and full of life when I started my day. I have good reason for this. When I first came to stay at the half way home I was one arrogant, obnoxious SOB. When I think about it now I feel repulsed at the way I behaved. But over a period of time I started looking at people around me rather differently and there were some fundamental changes that occurred in my perception and attitudes! It didn’t take me that long to realize that I was just being a jackass and was capable of much more by just being human. Considering the arrogance with which I conducted myself and fear I commanded at the Institute I wasn't surprised when I got to know that the Psychologist had wanted me sent away from here wondering if I would commit some insane act! Thanks to the close bond I had built up with the Doctor in charge here and my relationship with him apart from the fact that we were very close to each other that nobody could even dare contemplate such a course of action! At some point in time I realized that considering what some of the other Residents had gone through in life and what they were still going through it didn’t really cost that much to be pleasant. The difference was astonishing! For once without insulting the staff I used inquire how they were to complement them on their looks! Tell me a Woman who doesn't like it! This had a few draw backs because you couldn't be overtly concentrating on one Woman and we had five at one time and the one who I used to hate at the height of my antisocial state of mind was not only pretty but finally ended up being very close to me because I changed my attitude and behavior towards her !!!!
Unfortunately this exuberance was perceived as a Bi Polar symptom, in other word I was in a mood swing in the manic state of a high!!!! This didn’t bother me much till this new bloody Woman joined the club! I am by nature a talkative person and because of the nature of my thinking I switch subjects fast and furiously and I tend to be overbearing. That is a social skill I have to address not a mental imbalance that drugs are going to cure!
On the day in question I breezed through the reception on my way out for my walk, acknowledged everybody’s existence with a curt good morning, came back in thirty odd minutes and ignoring everybody proceeded to my room. I do not exaggerate when I state that the new comer was in my room in a flash and I will never forget the look and concern on her face when she queried “are you alright? “. I felt great and replied “of course I am, I will explain later!” The all-important perception this time? I was depressed!!! When I did explain why I did what I did, she called me manipulative and pointed out that I was hiding the real me from people. In my book I changed a wrong perception of a person who mattered to me and what was important, it bloody well worked!!!
.
Anyway my views and those of others about me since 2005 when I was diagnosed as Bi Polar hasn't changed over the last six odd years. The conclusion I had drawn that no matter how hard I tried I would always be perceived as Bi Polar and whatever I did wouldn't make a difference in perceptions about me, was a bloody depressing reality. When I think of the murmurous occasions I have fought trying to change these perceptions I am amazed at my own tenacity. I had also very unfortunately and stupidly resigned myself to this and very uncharacteristically of me come to accept this. This goes to shows at least to me, especially now, how perceptions can be so obnoxiously misleading and fixated in your thought process.
This point was driven home in the last week of January, early February this year when a new comer was invited to the half way home to observe the workings of the Institute with a view to join as a Trainee Counselor when she completed her Degree. My initial reactions to her presence were one of indifference when I first saw her sitting at the reception area. I assumed she was a visitor to the Institute. The next day I saw her standing outside the office when I was going for my morning walk dressed in a Sari watching the female Residents doing their morning exercises. Something clicked at that time. I wanted to get to know her. My behavior was observed by one of the Counselors who I remember giving me a knowing glance! I can still remember the feeling of excitement the view I had of this new comer invoked.
Subsequently I found out that she would be here for two weeks.I approached her with a comment about her name which I deliberately mixed up with a catchy Tamil nick name of a hit film of some fame which I had watched on numerous occasions as a child and enjoyed the peels of unbridled laughter it provoked. This encounter quickly developed in my sharing what I had written so far on my book and the collections of short stories for her comments. Her observations had an impact and I found the inspiration I needed to focus and start getting back to writing again which I had neglected for quite some time now.
Once we had started talking to each other regularly she told once that in the morning discussions that are a part of the staff and management every day at the Home that when asked to commented on the subject as to who she found most interesting at the home she chose me. I was riled. Quite frankly I think I am much more than interesting, my antics in this Institute are stuff that legends are made off! In any case boy have I proved her so wrong! What was even more annoying was that it was I who had initiated contacted as I wanted to find out more about her. "Me relegated to interesting! Huh!" I remember thinking. Little did I know then I too was in for a shock and about to end up with my Serendipity.
It was around this time I was once again getting pretty tired off the fact that everybody I had come into contact with ended up with same conclusion as to my behavior being caused by Bi Polar that I thought to myself why don’t I sound her off as to what she thought? My logic was impeccable she had seen me for less than a week and I had shown her my writings and spoken to her at length about myself and maybe this time I would get a more balanced perspective? I was extremely disappointed that she had the same opinion as everybody else! But this galvanized me and prompted me to do something about it.
The seven months preceding her arrival to the Institute had been really tough on me. I was in a catch 22 situation with the assignment I had undertaken to asses my skill levels to see how I would be able to reintegrate myself back into the IT field. Unfortunately circumstances didn’t quite allow me to explore my potential and had I started bitching about the issues I was facing I would have sounded extremely ungrateful and resulted in hurting people who actually cared about me. It is all about the perceptions I live with and am living with daily. I couldn't express anything to anybody. I couldn't even get a chance to see my psychiatrist alone. The only time I indicated I wanted to do so ended up in a misunderstanding. I was getting right royally screwed. The assumptions everybody was were making were so out of whack and I couldn’t get my point of view across! This naturally resulted in behavior on my part leading to the conclusion that I am incapable of handling work or any other responsibility which in turn fuelled a further buildup of my frustration and no avenue to vent my emotions! All I knew was that I was on a high dosage of drugs and had no choice and resigned myself to accepting it, which was very conveniently interpreted as the treatment was working! Inside I was seething! I finally blew a fuse and went to a Physician for an opinion. He looked at the high dosage of the drugs I was on and to use his own words opined “allowed but high!!!! “ I am awaiting my blood reports on the 14th of March with trepidation!
The seven months of shuttling between Colombo and the half way home was also telling on me. I was going through a major identity crisis with no place to really call my own and not having the space to just be on my own. I was unable to function without depending on circumstances and other people to do anything meaningful. This is something I abhor! I like to start my day knowing that I can finish achieving all my objectives within the time frame I set for myself. The half way home was probably the best alternative under the circumstances but at that time it was also not fully geared to cater to my requirements and a lot of what I had planned had to be postponed pending my Sisters arrival in Sri Lanka on the 6th of February 2011. On top of this I was involved in all kinds of liaisons; fortunately I didn’t get into any serious trouble because of them.
I used to walk in to the reception area of the office here in the morning and be very cheerful and pleasant. Flirting with the female staff, joking and generally being extremely exuberant and full of life when I started my day. I have good reason for this. When I first came to stay at the half way home I was one arrogant, obnoxious SOB. When I think about it now I feel repulsed at the way I behaved. But over a period of time I started looking at people around me rather differently and there were some fundamental changes that occurred in my perception and attitudes! It didn’t take me that long to realize that I was just being a jackass and was capable of much more by just being human. Considering the arrogance with which I conducted myself and fear I commanded at the Institute I wasn't surprised when I got to know that the Psychologist had wanted me sent away from here wondering if I would commit some insane act! Thanks to the close bond I had built up with the Doctor in charge here and my relationship with him apart from the fact that we were very close to each other that nobody could even dare contemplate such a course of action! At some point in time I realized that considering what some of the other Residents had gone through in life and what they were still going through it didn’t really cost that much to be pleasant. The difference was astonishing! For once without insulting the staff I used inquire how they were to complement them on their looks! Tell me a Woman who doesn't like it! This had a few draw backs because you couldn't be overtly concentrating on one Woman and we had five at one time and the one who I used to hate at the height of my antisocial state of mind was not only pretty but finally ended up being very close to me because I changed my attitude and behavior towards her !!!!
Unfortunately this exuberance was perceived as a Bi Polar symptom, in other word I was in a mood swing in the manic state of a high!!!! This didn’t bother me much till this new bloody Woman joined the club! I am by nature a talkative person and because of the nature of my thinking I switch subjects fast and furiously and I tend to be overbearing. That is a social skill I have to address not a mental imbalance that drugs are going to cure!
On the day in question I breezed through the reception on my way out for my walk, acknowledged everybody’s existence with a curt good morning, came back in thirty odd minutes and ignoring everybody proceeded to my room. I do not exaggerate when I state that the new comer was in my room in a flash and I will never forget the look and concern on her face when she queried “are you alright? “. I felt great and replied “of course I am, I will explain later!” The all-important perception this time? I was depressed!!! When I did explain why I did what I did, she called me manipulative and pointed out that I was hiding the real me from people. In my book I changed a wrong perception of a person who mattered to me and what was important, it bloody well worked!!!
.
Friday, March 4, 2011
The Journey
According to my friend I am the most predictable, unpredictable person she knows. I have some news for her I am the most predictable unpredictable person I know! The word that would be apt here is I am an enigma to me if that is possible. But then I do the most nuttiest things at least when I ever I get the opportunity.
To put it all in sequence after three days of doing work for the half way home, they like to call it helping them with matters relating to computers and not really working? I don't care! There is a financial reward and that fucking matters! I had decided that I was going to visit the nearby town of Wattala today and spend the day there and just explore the town. It is now a bustling commercial hub and though I have passed it so many times I cannot remember really walking around and seeing the place. It was a small town so many years ago and it is en route to the airport. It still has a road called the old Negombo road and I can vaguely remember travelling down that road when I was a kid.
I was to accompany a Resident of the half way home to his Bank and then do my work at my Bank, help him with some chores and see that he was sent back while I took off to where ever my fancy determined. Everything was arranged and the two of us left the home. It was uneventful, but I really got to know this guy for the first time. I decide to take him and the driver of our Three Wheeler to one of the traditional old fashioned tea boutiques of yester year that one stumbles upon occasionally. Tea in places like this is served with sweet condensed milk and if you have it without sugar it has a taste that is unique. While having my tea some young students from a nearby tutory came in, I presume during their morning break, for snack and soft drinks. I reminisced of the time I was a student of that age and how similar my outlook and attitude was accept to me their sense of dress was atrocious. But I guess the same would have prevailed about mine by others at that time.
Well I saw my companions back to the half way home and set off on my own to explore and seek new places to venture into as it were. I ambled in the hot sun observing the girls in particular noting what was the fashion of today while getting a fare share of inquiring looks in turn and just gazing at what was going on around me, in short just soaking the atmosphere. I was passing a huge supermarket and decide to go in and and have a look see. I went in,flirted with a counter girl, enjoyed the air conditioned comfort, had a cappuccino and noted with amusement that the aisle marked Baby Products had gent’s ties on display. Reasonably priced!
It was almost lunch time so I decided to cross the road to the restaurant I had decided to have my lunch. Level crossings in Sri Lanka are a night mare for even people who use them daily. I had just returned from Singapore where crossing the street is a walk in the park. I came to the faded zebra crossing and for a moment I panicked! The traffic was horrendous and there were all kinds of vehicles around the crossing, some were on it, and there were huge trucks belching black fumes and honking away, not to mention assorted vehicles weaving in and out of the area designated for pedestrians. I considered hopping into a three wheeler and getting across that way?? I think it was just a fleeting thought, when something happened. The next thing I knew I had set out dodging bumpers and with my hand indicating my intention to oncoming traffic and was at the divider of the road. I paused took a deep breath and crossed to the other side. I had done it! Of course my legs were kinda weak but I took another deep breath and walked to a sidewalk fruit juice stall. I sat gingerly and reached for a cigarette. You are not supposed to smoke in public places but there were no cops around. I had a coke and smile after about five minutes.
The restaurant was just a block away and I walked to it and sat down in air-conditioned comfort. The meal was excellent and I enjoyed the service, had a chat with the guy serving me while he gave me the run down on what was available including the VIP lounge on the second floor that allowed smoking. The prices were pretty reasonable and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I suddenly decided, let me get back to the village and go to the beach. So I paid up, got to the street and then it struck me, I hadn't been in bus for so long and I had been wanting to do so for some time now. Why not today? The bus stop was close by, I knew the route number and I was aware that one comes by every half hour and it would be drop me at top of the road leading to the half way home. So bus it was goanna be!
The bus came by and I got in from the back clutching my duffle bag with my hand reaching out for the overhead railing when the bus took off like a missile. I cant remember how I grabbed the railing overhead but I had and froze gripping on to it and somehow other grabbing the same railing with my other hand. I was just about six inches away from the entrance to the bus. My heart literally stopped! The bus came to a screeching halt and just gave me enough time to move a foot or so forward. The bus turned to the left and from then on I was hanging on for dear life! I can’t explain the barrage of emotions and extent of fear that gripped me. I never knew this combination existed. All I could think was fuck this is a baaaad idea! I gripped the railing so hard that my nails were biting into my palms. The pain was intense but there was no way I was going to let go. The bus had turned into the road that leads to the junction at the Negombo Canal. The road we were travelling on, breaking all speed records, at least to me, is not very wide and I am very familiar with the terrain. I have driven fast in my time, clocking one hour bridge to bridge Colombo to Kandy but this Driver was a league of his own. The way he manipulated the medium size bus along this road was unbelievable! He was blaring his horn and even in my shell shocked state I was wondering how on earth the other passengers were quite comfortably swaying with this roller coaster and some were old folks!!! If there was anything I was sure was I was insane to have tried this bloody stunt.
I was seeing the inside of a bus all by myself after twenty nine odd years and I used to give my mother heart attacks when I used to run and jump onto moving buses without thinking twice. But that was another dimension and another time. In all this turmoil the Conductor comes along and asks for the ticket money. I told him is Sinhala “ Condosthara Mahathaya pena nadda mama wevulanawa mata Sali ganda vidiyak ne, kakule abadayak” Transalation “ Mr. Conductor can’t you see I am trembling I can’t take the money out now I have a problem with my legs” This guys was a class act! He hollered to the guy sitting near me demanding that he vacate the seat and gives it to me while announcing to all in the bus that I was a disabled person! The seated passenger meekly got up and very gallantly helped me to the seat. I wasn't lying, a minute more and my legs would have given away. I sat down breathing a sigh of relief as the conductor inquired as to where I was getting down and assured me he will come later for the money and drop me off safely.
The Driver took us to the junction in exactly seven minutes and thirty three seconds. I have been down this road using various other forms of transport and even in light traffic it takes about twenty to thirty minutes. We turned off into the road adjoining the canal bank. The bus then waits a good ten minutes and suddenly we are now in the hands of the Winner of the Annual All Island Good Driver Competition, who's only ambition is to ensure that his passengers enjoy the scenic view of the dirty canal! I was curious as why the suicidal drive? It turned out that if the bus doesn’t reach the junction at its allotted time the Owner gets fined! I was enjoying the the ride now and glanced at the people who use public transport. It was a mixture of the highly fashion conscious youngsters, smartly dressed men and women and some ladies who were very elegantly attired. There were an assorted bunch of both sexes who looked like slobs and a few romantics thrown in for good measure. The only experience that I found irritating was a Woman who shoved her crotch against my shoulder. But this is public transport and the next time who knows who will be shoving what at whom! Fortunately she wasn’t tall and seat wasn’t meant for a midget.
The Conductor collected his money, I thought it was twenty rupees but it was eighteen and he judiciously returned the balance and saw me off the bus as promised. I made my way to the shop I purchase cigarettes from and sat down. I tried to lite up but my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t. It took me a good half hour to lite a cigarette and took it two of them before I could stand up and walk.
The rest of the day I spent at the beach and came back to the home late in the evening. I learned something and am I glad I did what I did. I proved to myself that my confidence in myself and the determination not to wait but do it when it should be done without postponing is still there. I know if I didn’t do what I did when the impulse came upon me I probably wouldn't have done it at all. It has also given me the right motivation to put the effort on my fitness and be focused so that in the shortest possible time I regain my overall body condition so that a swaying bus for one is a natural for me.
As my friend puts it I am like a child and she is so right. I'm learning not the new but the old tricks that I have forgotten and like a child I am enjoying the experience and reveling in it.
To put it all in sequence after three days of doing work for the half way home, they like to call it helping them with matters relating to computers and not really working? I don't care! There is a financial reward and that fucking matters! I had decided that I was going to visit the nearby town of Wattala today and spend the day there and just explore the town. It is now a bustling commercial hub and though I have passed it so many times I cannot remember really walking around and seeing the place. It was a small town so many years ago and it is en route to the airport. It still has a road called the old Negombo road and I can vaguely remember travelling down that road when I was a kid.
I was to accompany a Resident of the half way home to his Bank and then do my work at my Bank, help him with some chores and see that he was sent back while I took off to where ever my fancy determined. Everything was arranged and the two of us left the home. It was uneventful, but I really got to know this guy for the first time. I decide to take him and the driver of our Three Wheeler to one of the traditional old fashioned tea boutiques of yester year that one stumbles upon occasionally. Tea in places like this is served with sweet condensed milk and if you have it without sugar it has a taste that is unique. While having my tea some young students from a nearby tutory came in, I presume during their morning break, for snack and soft drinks. I reminisced of the time I was a student of that age and how similar my outlook and attitude was accept to me their sense of dress was atrocious. But I guess the same would have prevailed about mine by others at that time.
Well I saw my companions back to the half way home and set off on my own to explore and seek new places to venture into as it were. I ambled in the hot sun observing the girls in particular noting what was the fashion of today while getting a fare share of inquiring looks in turn and just gazing at what was going on around me, in short just soaking the atmosphere. I was passing a huge supermarket and decide to go in and and have a look see. I went in,flirted with a counter girl, enjoyed the air conditioned comfort, had a cappuccino and noted with amusement that the aisle marked Baby Products had gent’s ties on display. Reasonably priced!
It was almost lunch time so I decided to cross the road to the restaurant I had decided to have my lunch. Level crossings in Sri Lanka are a night mare for even people who use them daily. I had just returned from Singapore where crossing the street is a walk in the park. I came to the faded zebra crossing and for a moment I panicked! The traffic was horrendous and there were all kinds of vehicles around the crossing, some were on it, and there were huge trucks belching black fumes and honking away, not to mention assorted vehicles weaving in and out of the area designated for pedestrians. I considered hopping into a three wheeler and getting across that way?? I think it was just a fleeting thought, when something happened. The next thing I knew I had set out dodging bumpers and with my hand indicating my intention to oncoming traffic and was at the divider of the road. I paused took a deep breath and crossed to the other side. I had done it! Of course my legs were kinda weak but I took another deep breath and walked to a sidewalk fruit juice stall. I sat gingerly and reached for a cigarette. You are not supposed to smoke in public places but there were no cops around. I had a coke and smile after about five minutes.
The restaurant was just a block away and I walked to it and sat down in air-conditioned comfort. The meal was excellent and I enjoyed the service, had a chat with the guy serving me while he gave me the run down on what was available including the VIP lounge on the second floor that allowed smoking. The prices were pretty reasonable and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I suddenly decided, let me get back to the village and go to the beach. So I paid up, got to the street and then it struck me, I hadn't been in bus for so long and I had been wanting to do so for some time now. Why not today? The bus stop was close by, I knew the route number and I was aware that one comes by every half hour and it would be drop me at top of the road leading to the half way home. So bus it was goanna be!
The bus came by and I got in from the back clutching my duffle bag with my hand reaching out for the overhead railing when the bus took off like a missile. I cant remember how I grabbed the railing overhead but I had and froze gripping on to it and somehow other grabbing the same railing with my other hand. I was just about six inches away from the entrance to the bus. My heart literally stopped! The bus came to a screeching halt and just gave me enough time to move a foot or so forward. The bus turned to the left and from then on I was hanging on for dear life! I can’t explain the barrage of emotions and extent of fear that gripped me. I never knew this combination existed. All I could think was fuck this is a baaaad idea! I gripped the railing so hard that my nails were biting into my palms. The pain was intense but there was no way I was going to let go. The bus had turned into the road that leads to the junction at the Negombo Canal. The road we were travelling on, breaking all speed records, at least to me, is not very wide and I am very familiar with the terrain. I have driven fast in my time, clocking one hour bridge to bridge Colombo to Kandy but this Driver was a league of his own. The way he manipulated the medium size bus along this road was unbelievable! He was blaring his horn and even in my shell shocked state I was wondering how on earth the other passengers were quite comfortably swaying with this roller coaster and some were old folks!!! If there was anything I was sure was I was insane to have tried this bloody stunt.
I was seeing the inside of a bus all by myself after twenty nine odd years and I used to give my mother heart attacks when I used to run and jump onto moving buses without thinking twice. But that was another dimension and another time. In all this turmoil the Conductor comes along and asks for the ticket money. I told him is Sinhala “ Condosthara Mahathaya pena nadda mama wevulanawa mata Sali ganda vidiyak ne, kakule abadayak” Transalation “ Mr. Conductor can’t you see I am trembling I can’t take the money out now I have a problem with my legs” This guys was a class act! He hollered to the guy sitting near me demanding that he vacate the seat and gives it to me while announcing to all in the bus that I was a disabled person! The seated passenger meekly got up and very gallantly helped me to the seat. I wasn't lying, a minute more and my legs would have given away. I sat down breathing a sigh of relief as the conductor inquired as to where I was getting down and assured me he will come later for the money and drop me off safely.
The Driver took us to the junction in exactly seven minutes and thirty three seconds. I have been down this road using various other forms of transport and even in light traffic it takes about twenty to thirty minutes. We turned off into the road adjoining the canal bank. The bus then waits a good ten minutes and suddenly we are now in the hands of the Winner of the Annual All Island Good Driver Competition, who's only ambition is to ensure that his passengers enjoy the scenic view of the dirty canal! I was curious as why the suicidal drive? It turned out that if the bus doesn’t reach the junction at its allotted time the Owner gets fined! I was enjoying the the ride now and glanced at the people who use public transport. It was a mixture of the highly fashion conscious youngsters, smartly dressed men and women and some ladies who were very elegantly attired. There were an assorted bunch of both sexes who looked like slobs and a few romantics thrown in for good measure. The only experience that I found irritating was a Woman who shoved her crotch against my shoulder. But this is public transport and the next time who knows who will be shoving what at whom! Fortunately she wasn’t tall and seat wasn’t meant for a midget.
The Conductor collected his money, I thought it was twenty rupees but it was eighteen and he judiciously returned the balance and saw me off the bus as promised. I made my way to the shop I purchase cigarettes from and sat down. I tried to lite up but my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t. It took me a good half hour to lite a cigarette and took it two of them before I could stand up and walk.
The rest of the day I spent at the beach and came back to the home late in the evening. I learned something and am I glad I did what I did. I proved to myself that my confidence in myself and the determination not to wait but do it when it should be done without postponing is still there. I know if I didn’t do what I did when the impulse came upon me I probably wouldn't have done it at all. It has also given me the right motivation to put the effort on my fitness and be focused so that in the shortest possible time I regain my overall body condition so that a swaying bus for one is a natural for me.
As my friend puts it I am like a child and she is so right. I'm learning not the new but the old tricks that I have forgotten and like a child I am enjoying the experience and reveling in it.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Revolutions
The dictionary definition of a political revolution is the overthrow or an attempt to do so of a government by it's own people. It is usually associated with violence and generally caused by the venting of the frustration of a long suffering people who have been betrayed repeatedly by the state. Generally the leaders of such movements are charismatic and attract the young who are dissolution and genuinely seek change. The state invariably uses unimaginable brute force to suppress such expression and in some cases with success that inevitably has the tactical backing of other regional players or vice versa which ends up by the downfall of the government. The end result is very little change but definitely a more unstable and hostile environment which deteriorates into further oppression who ever the victor and the people, are always, to use the politically correct buzz word, end up as collateral damage and the incorrect word screwed right royally ! There are two other words that define a revolution one is technical , an object that moves around another at an equidistant in a circle and the other Cabal implying a group of plotters with an intent to overthrow a government.
I am yet to see a revolution that ended up in a just society that is completely free of oppression or for that matter any that is. There is always some degree of state intervention in some insidious form or the other. Of course the West is probably an example of at least the trappings of functioning democracies and the checks and balances ensure that fair play is the norm and not the exception. But there are the instances where the system fucks up. But fortunately at least to the extent I am aware of they are few and far between. The USA was always associated with justice and so are the others but invariably what they don't or can't do at home they do with a vengeance elsewhere.
I guess it's something to do with the brain composition of these Revolutionaries. Something happens when they are in power and they tend to forget why they wanted to fight in the first place. If the level of violence in achieving their goals is high the intensity with which they suppress dissent within their own rank and file and by extension the very people they represent intensifies proportionately. The I can't do no wrong mentality becomes a truth and a monkey wrench gets chucked into the gears. The mistrust of those who may voice genuine concerns becomes a threat and the elimination process starts and it is not very long before the rot sets in. They don't see that once the job is done it is time to let go and allow normalcy and decency to set in so that the social order quickly stabilizes and the purpose of change is not compromised. Instead of doing just that they end up by consolidating their power and transform themselves to the spitting image of what they despised. The irony of it is if and when these despots do get thrown out the song and dance they make about how they have sacrificed their entire life serving the people and how ungrateful everybody is and how gladly they would have done so long time ago if only the people had a genuine alternative to ensure the peace prosperity and happiness that was his or her legacy. Of course the size of their personal fortune amassed doing this service for the people and the suffering imposed on the people are the prize for freedom that so many sacrificed their lives for !!! To get closer home now.
All three definitions are very relevant to Sri Lanka we had two attempts to overthrow the government by the JVP one in 1971 and the other during the period 1987 to 1989. Both were unsuccessful and in the first the force deployed by the state to suppress the JVP was shocking. The official figures was a hand full of the forces as opposed to 15,000 dead. I wonder what the reality was. The one of 1987 to 1989 was the worst. The violence unleashed by both participants in this so called struggle for freedom by one and in the cause of defending the Motherland by the other was unbelievable. I am not aware of any figures but I used to travel quite frequently to some of the hot spots of that time and have witnessed the most gruesome mutilations of the human body that only a genuine state of the art psychopath could have conjured. Those images still haunt me.
The other freedom fighter with a different cause, that of liberating his people from the Sinhalese Racist Regime, ( his words not mine ) was of a class of his own. Not only was he the most feared terrorist in the world but had the Sri Lankan Government on it's knees. He probably would have realized his dream of a separate state had his ego not overtaken his brilliance in holding on to a big chunk of the Island for such a long time and not quickly transforming that into a workable solution that would have ensured that he died peacefully with military honors or all the tapestry of royalty rather than being hunted like a dog and shot dead trying to surrender. So much for the freedom fighter who demanded fanatical loyalty to the extent that his cadre commit suicide rather than fall into Sinhala hands.
The tragedy that is unfortunate in all these conflicts is the death toll and the effect on the people and the psychological trauma it has had on the nation and the scars that will take a long time to heal. An entire generation has known only conflict and the new will not have the time or skills to cater to the headaches of the baggage that the older will be carrying. They will have there own problems to worry about. Unfortunately the Victor has not seen the responsibility or the need to heal these wounds and quickly bridge these gaps in the social system and look at political solutions and find genuine techniques for a a durable answer. History has this nasty habit of being repetitive and as any casual student of the subject will realize the sequel is far more bloodier than the preceding release. Unfortunately in Sri Lanka we rewrite history to suite the present political expediences rather than basing it on facts. So the books are already churning out the revised edition for consumption by the population at large.
The other two definitions are appropriate and worthwhile contemplating. We have come a full circle and outwardly everything seems back to normal, or is it ? It started at the same point and has the situation that set the ball rolling changed. ? The victor is riding high but it is then that the fall is very nasty, the vanquished are brow beaten and submissive and that it is when they renew and are the most dangerous. The Cabal ( in Sinhala it means Junk fit to be thrown out ) is dead and their memory will not be of any significance in the immediate future. The issues haven’t changed and the wound has not healed the infection is still there. On the 4th of February 2011 the Democratic Socialistic Republic of Sri Lanka Celebrated 63 years of independence. Even at this age we have still not learned from our mistakes !
I am yet to see a revolution that ended up in a just society that is completely free of oppression or for that matter any that is. There is always some degree of state intervention in some insidious form or the other. Of course the West is probably an example of at least the trappings of functioning democracies and the checks and balances ensure that fair play is the norm and not the exception. But there are the instances where the system fucks up. But fortunately at least to the extent I am aware of they are few and far between. The USA was always associated with justice and so are the others but invariably what they don't or can't do at home they do with a vengeance elsewhere.
I guess it's something to do with the brain composition of these Revolutionaries. Something happens when they are in power and they tend to forget why they wanted to fight in the first place. If the level of violence in achieving their goals is high the intensity with which they suppress dissent within their own rank and file and by extension the very people they represent intensifies proportionately. The I can't do no wrong mentality becomes a truth and a monkey wrench gets chucked into the gears. The mistrust of those who may voice genuine concerns becomes a threat and the elimination process starts and it is not very long before the rot sets in. They don't see that once the job is done it is time to let go and allow normalcy and decency to set in so that the social order quickly stabilizes and the purpose of change is not compromised. Instead of doing just that they end up by consolidating their power and transform themselves to the spitting image of what they despised. The irony of it is if and when these despots do get thrown out the song and dance they make about how they have sacrificed their entire life serving the people and how ungrateful everybody is and how gladly they would have done so long time ago if only the people had a genuine alternative to ensure the peace prosperity and happiness that was his or her legacy. Of course the size of their personal fortune amassed doing this service for the people and the suffering imposed on the people are the prize for freedom that so many sacrificed their lives for !!! To get closer home now.
All three definitions are very relevant to Sri Lanka we had two attempts to overthrow the government by the JVP one in 1971 and the other during the period 1987 to 1989. Both were unsuccessful and in the first the force deployed by the state to suppress the JVP was shocking. The official figures was a hand full of the forces as opposed to 15,000 dead. I wonder what the reality was. The one of 1987 to 1989 was the worst. The violence unleashed by both participants in this so called struggle for freedom by one and in the cause of defending the Motherland by the other was unbelievable. I am not aware of any figures but I used to travel quite frequently to some of the hot spots of that time and have witnessed the most gruesome mutilations of the human body that only a genuine state of the art psychopath could have conjured. Those images still haunt me.
The other freedom fighter with a different cause, that of liberating his people from the Sinhalese Racist Regime, ( his words not mine ) was of a class of his own. Not only was he the most feared terrorist in the world but had the Sri Lankan Government on it's knees. He probably would have realized his dream of a separate state had his ego not overtaken his brilliance in holding on to a big chunk of the Island for such a long time and not quickly transforming that into a workable solution that would have ensured that he died peacefully with military honors or all the tapestry of royalty rather than being hunted like a dog and shot dead trying to surrender. So much for the freedom fighter who demanded fanatical loyalty to the extent that his cadre commit suicide rather than fall into Sinhala hands.
The tragedy that is unfortunate in all these conflicts is the death toll and the effect on the people and the psychological trauma it has had on the nation and the scars that will take a long time to heal. An entire generation has known only conflict and the new will not have the time or skills to cater to the headaches of the baggage that the older will be carrying. They will have there own problems to worry about. Unfortunately the Victor has not seen the responsibility or the need to heal these wounds and quickly bridge these gaps in the social system and look at political solutions and find genuine techniques for a a durable answer. History has this nasty habit of being repetitive and as any casual student of the subject will realize the sequel is far more bloodier than the preceding release. Unfortunately in Sri Lanka we rewrite history to suite the present political expediences rather than basing it on facts. So the books are already churning out the revised edition for consumption by the population at large.
The other two definitions are appropriate and worthwhile contemplating. We have come a full circle and outwardly everything seems back to normal, or is it ? It started at the same point and has the situation that set the ball rolling changed. ? The victor is riding high but it is then that the fall is very nasty, the vanquished are brow beaten and submissive and that it is when they renew and are the most dangerous. The Cabal ( in Sinhala it means Junk fit to be thrown out ) is dead and their memory will not be of any significance in the immediate future. The issues haven’t changed and the wound has not healed the infection is still there. On the 4th of February 2011 the Democratic Socialistic Republic of Sri Lanka Celebrated 63 years of independence. Even at this age we have still not learned from our mistakes !
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Metaphor and Me
Its been a while since I have sat down to write. I am back at the halfway home for one of my regular retreats I now refer to my stays here and a sequence of events triggered this thought process that I hope will help me to start writing regularly once again.
My life has been most definitely greatly and positively impacted over the last 29 odd days and our age disparity makes our relationship insane, to your average Joe. However it has meant more than any I have had as I don't seem to be able to find an obvious comparison off hand. It has been the highlight of my existence thus far and I know that I have made an impression in her life. We have been sharing thoughts and experiences and always try to find something interesting, new or controversial every time we communicate. But to the point now!
I had glanced through an article titled THE SINHABAHU METAPHOR. My cursory glance came useful for a previous posting but I had noted that I needed to read the article today and did so. The Author had written about a Sinhala king who was the Great Grandfather of the Sinhala people and uses the story as a metaphor in his analysis of the present situation in the middle east and what lessons the present rulers of Sri Lanka should keep in mind if they don't want to end up the same way! He ends that there will be a generation that has not lived under the tragedy of the last 30 years and will not care or remember about the history of the violent conflicts this country has witnessed from both sides of the divide over four decades. But they will demand justice and fair play so that their aspirations can be fulfilled. This set me thinking. My new interest does not know of the 83 riots. She is the new generation who has not seen the civil conflict of the past 30 years intimately enough to get a proper perspective , she wasn't even born during the equally bloody JVP uprising of 88, she doesn't have a clue as to how Sirimavo and Felix Dias monkeyed with the Constitution, the legal system and systematically destroyed the civil service and politicized the establishment. She doesn't yet fully grasp the subtle repressive methods that are insidiously evolving today. What she has seen is the endemic corruption so widely prevalent in the social fabric and its effect. It has yet to have a major impact on her life , but I sensed the unease already fermenting in her mind when she asked me this morning, when will a middle east happen in Sri Lanka ? At her age she should be contemplating matters regarding a bright future instead of entertaining thoughts of a bloody uprising . She is already maturing rapidly and questioning issues that she feels are contrary to her own core beliefs. Maybe the new generation is already here ? It's seems to have already started asking, at least she has !
I have over the last 40 years witnessed the major upheavals and changes of the transformation of the so called pearl of the Indian Ocean Ceylon to the ravaged mess that Sri Lanka is today. I had enjoyed ignorant bliss from the age of about the age of 6, ( 1964 )from when I can recollect instances of my life with a fair degree of accuracy. This ignorance ,with some exceptions, lasted till 1971 when I first heard about the JVP, and was warned solemnly that if anybody mentioned 5 classes to run a mile and tell the nearest cop. From 1972 onwards I slowly learned that the brand of Socialism that was practiced in Sri Lanka was as usual the worst form which is a typically Sri Lankan trait. But even that didn't have much of an impact on my life. By this time I started understanding Carl Marx and Engels and the so called virtues of the Socialistic System against the big bad Capitalistic fellows. Of course the proponents of this point of view got buggered when they witnessed like I did how Comrades Peter's and NM's betrayal not only screwed the working class but also got them thrown out of the UF government of our Ma Baker. I was impressed with the dexterity of Comrade Vasu the great Survivor who ensured that he was at all times on the right side of the divide while at the same time supporting two diametrically opposing positions. I also learned that in Socialism there is a distinction between different Socialists, some were more socialist than others and the misfits who couldn't be classified ended up dead. Somewhere during this time I called myself a Marxist and I impressed all the suckers I could find with my eloquent style and impeccable command of the English Language and the art of speaking ,( Thanks to Daphne Lords School of Speech and Drama ) and the use of terminology I didn't quite understand then and to be quite honest don’t understand even now! Everybody fell for it. I was no bloody revolutionary but liked to be different because it impressed the girls !
In spite of all this I have of course learned some valuable lessons from associating with the Ceylon Mercantile Union and Mr. Bala Tampoe who was one of the influential persons in molding a lot of my thinking and directly responsible for my acquiring some the attributes I still believe in today. I had a lot of exposure to situations early on in my life which played an important role and the collective was responsible for establishing strong values and principals that I still hold dearly. While still a student I used to actively participate with my child hood buddy in the political process that taught me a lot and the the subject of civics introduced to me in school was seen in practice. It was an interesting period and I think the 1977 general election when I first cast my vote was probably the most free and fair that I witnessed.
After 1977 I spent frequent spells abroad and had traveled widely but coincidentally been back home during crucial periods of it's history which I believe have given me a perspective, by the criteria I classify myself, which would make it unique. Firstly though I am technically identified as a Tamil in all my statutory documents, I am not ! I am a desended of an Indian Malayali Brahmin mixed with a second generation Indian Brahmin of unknown origin born in Ceylon and there is no known classification for this marital match of which I am supposed to be the only male offspring. Secondly I consider my self a Ceylonese and Sri Lankan and thirdly the word race should be used only in combination with the word Human ( according to my English Teachers ) and I wouldn't want to pay the price of insulting the other species on this planet that we of the human race have inflicted so much of damage upon by flashing an ID badge that says so.
This perception should come in useful in following a more relevant direction in the sequencing of my book The Other Side of The Coin, helping the structure and possibly setting the tone for interesting reading but ensuring historical accuracy whilst at the same time leaving for unbridled imagination to distort the truth to add the necessary flavoring that I feel should be the essence of a book. It also may serve as a point of reference for those who never witnessed the events of the last thirty years and I hope the perception I have identified and justified which I intend to use will suffice.
What does this all mean in terms of the new generation and the Sinhabahu Metaphor to me ??? I always related to persons with whom there was a substantial age disparity plus or minus. I have always been attracted to them than those who are my peers. Their youth and vibrancy and the experiences when the situation reverses is always a source of inspiration and somehow other an encounter with either leaves me with wonder or baffles me. The variety and change you see constantly around them is fascinating to those who take the time to observe. I thrive in their company and find them an irreplaceable high especially when I am interacting with them and it is the only challenge I have had to work on to match on a constant basis. It ensures that I am sure of what I am talking about and I have that ability to learn from these experiences without any insecurities. It is time to use this gift more effectively so that I can be a positive contribution to the younger generation. The need for this is now, more than ever and I am constantly reminded of this daily. It would be the ultimate achievement if I can do that. I saw this ability when I was teaching at the NIBM when the age disparity between me and my students was around 15 years. The subject then was computers my passion at that time. The passion for IT still remains but now there are other varied interests. My experiences and the situations I have seen and been in over the last 15 years or so have left an inedible impression in me and I have changed so much so that at last I can assert with confidence that I have understood my psych and very sure of what I want and need to be. It has now become very difficult for me to enjoy the Company of my peers. I don't know how to relate to them and my efforts are ending up in disheartening failures . My level of interaction with them has deteriorated and I am now aware of the changes I will have to make to regain that. Unfortunately I do not consider that a priority anymore. I am more at home with the present generation and more in tune with them to relate and comprehend the issues facing them to be of meaningful assistance and significance in their lives. I still think in a fashion that can quickly adapt to this. This opportunity may not present itself again. I am myself am at a cross road trying to find a meaningful existence to fulfill my aspirations of living a life that I can be proud of whenever my time to leave arrives. I think a merging of these two would be a wonderful way for me to thank who or what ever that ensured I survived so long and lived to talk and write about it.
There is a yearning in me to leave a legacy apart from my reputation that has aspects that I can be proud of and strengths that I have developed which are now evident to me, but this reputation has also much to be ashamed of. My friend has rekindled the natural talent and goodness I have always had but rarely exposed or felt a need to do so. I like this feeling in me and she is responding to it giving me a sense of fulfillment after such a long time of at best a mediocre existence. I know I can satisfy so many aspects of her life and I am mature enough to ensure that she has enough space to develop her own identity and unique personality, the potential which I identified and responded to when I first spoke to her. My writing will now take on a more purposeful direction as it will now not only have a have a trusted feedback but maybe of use in a broader sense. I don't know how many can claim this privilege !!!!
So today’s posting hopefully sets the tone for a solid foundation to ensure that I write and of course set the platform for sharing perceptions and lessons that may come in handy and hopefully set the basis for, who knows ????? She has put it so succinctly in one of our chats. Be prepared for the unexpected.!!!!
My life has been most definitely greatly and positively impacted over the last 29 odd days and our age disparity makes our relationship insane, to your average Joe. However it has meant more than any I have had as I don't seem to be able to find an obvious comparison off hand. It has been the highlight of my existence thus far and I know that I have made an impression in her life. We have been sharing thoughts and experiences and always try to find something interesting, new or controversial every time we communicate. But to the point now!
I had glanced through an article titled THE SINHABAHU METAPHOR. My cursory glance came useful for a previous posting but I had noted that I needed to read the article today and did so. The Author had written about a Sinhala king who was the Great Grandfather of the Sinhala people and uses the story as a metaphor in his analysis of the present situation in the middle east and what lessons the present rulers of Sri Lanka should keep in mind if they don't want to end up the same way! He ends that there will be a generation that has not lived under the tragedy of the last 30 years and will not care or remember about the history of the violent conflicts this country has witnessed from both sides of the divide over four decades. But they will demand justice and fair play so that their aspirations can be fulfilled. This set me thinking. My new interest does not know of the 83 riots. She is the new generation who has not seen the civil conflict of the past 30 years intimately enough to get a proper perspective , she wasn't even born during the equally bloody JVP uprising of 88, she doesn't have a clue as to how Sirimavo and Felix Dias monkeyed with the Constitution, the legal system and systematically destroyed the civil service and politicized the establishment. She doesn't yet fully grasp the subtle repressive methods that are insidiously evolving today. What she has seen is the endemic corruption so widely prevalent in the social fabric and its effect. It has yet to have a major impact on her life , but I sensed the unease already fermenting in her mind when she asked me this morning, when will a middle east happen in Sri Lanka ? At her age she should be contemplating matters regarding a bright future instead of entertaining thoughts of a bloody uprising . She is already maturing rapidly and questioning issues that she feels are contrary to her own core beliefs. Maybe the new generation is already here ? It's seems to have already started asking, at least she has !
I have over the last 40 years witnessed the major upheavals and changes of the transformation of the so called pearl of the Indian Ocean Ceylon to the ravaged mess that Sri Lanka is today. I had enjoyed ignorant bliss from the age of about the age of 6, ( 1964 )from when I can recollect instances of my life with a fair degree of accuracy. This ignorance ,with some exceptions, lasted till 1971 when I first heard about the JVP, and was warned solemnly that if anybody mentioned 5 classes to run a mile and tell the nearest cop. From 1972 onwards I slowly learned that the brand of Socialism that was practiced in Sri Lanka was as usual the worst form which is a typically Sri Lankan trait. But even that didn't have much of an impact on my life. By this time I started understanding Carl Marx and Engels and the so called virtues of the Socialistic System against the big bad Capitalistic fellows. Of course the proponents of this point of view got buggered when they witnessed like I did how Comrades Peter's and NM's betrayal not only screwed the working class but also got them thrown out of the UF government of our Ma Baker. I was impressed with the dexterity of Comrade Vasu the great Survivor who ensured that he was at all times on the right side of the divide while at the same time supporting two diametrically opposing positions. I also learned that in Socialism there is a distinction between different Socialists, some were more socialist than others and the misfits who couldn't be classified ended up dead. Somewhere during this time I called myself a Marxist and I impressed all the suckers I could find with my eloquent style and impeccable command of the English Language and the art of speaking ,( Thanks to Daphne Lords School of Speech and Drama ) and the use of terminology I didn't quite understand then and to be quite honest don’t understand even now! Everybody fell for it. I was no bloody revolutionary but liked to be different because it impressed the girls !
In spite of all this I have of course learned some valuable lessons from associating with the Ceylon Mercantile Union and Mr. Bala Tampoe who was one of the influential persons in molding a lot of my thinking and directly responsible for my acquiring some the attributes I still believe in today. I had a lot of exposure to situations early on in my life which played an important role and the collective was responsible for establishing strong values and principals that I still hold dearly. While still a student I used to actively participate with my child hood buddy in the political process that taught me a lot and the the subject of civics introduced to me in school was seen in practice. It was an interesting period and I think the 1977 general election when I first cast my vote was probably the most free and fair that I witnessed.
After 1977 I spent frequent spells abroad and had traveled widely but coincidentally been back home during crucial periods of it's history which I believe have given me a perspective, by the criteria I classify myself, which would make it unique. Firstly though I am technically identified as a Tamil in all my statutory documents, I am not ! I am a desended of an Indian Malayali Brahmin mixed with a second generation Indian Brahmin of unknown origin born in Ceylon and there is no known classification for this marital match of which I am supposed to be the only male offspring. Secondly I consider my self a Ceylonese and Sri Lankan and thirdly the word race should be used only in combination with the word Human ( according to my English Teachers ) and I wouldn't want to pay the price of insulting the other species on this planet that we of the human race have inflicted so much of damage upon by flashing an ID badge that says so.
This perception should come in useful in following a more relevant direction in the sequencing of my book The Other Side of The Coin, helping the structure and possibly setting the tone for interesting reading but ensuring historical accuracy whilst at the same time leaving for unbridled imagination to distort the truth to add the necessary flavoring that I feel should be the essence of a book. It also may serve as a point of reference for those who never witnessed the events of the last thirty years and I hope the perception I have identified and justified which I intend to use will suffice.
What does this all mean in terms of the new generation and the Sinhabahu Metaphor to me ??? I always related to persons with whom there was a substantial age disparity plus or minus. I have always been attracted to them than those who are my peers. Their youth and vibrancy and the experiences when the situation reverses is always a source of inspiration and somehow other an encounter with either leaves me with wonder or baffles me. The variety and change you see constantly around them is fascinating to those who take the time to observe. I thrive in their company and find them an irreplaceable high especially when I am interacting with them and it is the only challenge I have had to work on to match on a constant basis. It ensures that I am sure of what I am talking about and I have that ability to learn from these experiences without any insecurities. It is time to use this gift more effectively so that I can be a positive contribution to the younger generation. The need for this is now, more than ever and I am constantly reminded of this daily. It would be the ultimate achievement if I can do that. I saw this ability when I was teaching at the NIBM when the age disparity between me and my students was around 15 years. The subject then was computers my passion at that time. The passion for IT still remains but now there are other varied interests. My experiences and the situations I have seen and been in over the last 15 years or so have left an inedible impression in me and I have changed so much so that at last I can assert with confidence that I have understood my psych and very sure of what I want and need to be. It has now become very difficult for me to enjoy the Company of my peers. I don't know how to relate to them and my efforts are ending up in disheartening failures . My level of interaction with them has deteriorated and I am now aware of the changes I will have to make to regain that. Unfortunately I do not consider that a priority anymore. I am more at home with the present generation and more in tune with them to relate and comprehend the issues facing them to be of meaningful assistance and significance in their lives. I still think in a fashion that can quickly adapt to this. This opportunity may not present itself again. I am myself am at a cross road trying to find a meaningful existence to fulfill my aspirations of living a life that I can be proud of whenever my time to leave arrives. I think a merging of these two would be a wonderful way for me to thank who or what ever that ensured I survived so long and lived to talk and write about it.
There is a yearning in me to leave a legacy apart from my reputation that has aspects that I can be proud of and strengths that I have developed which are now evident to me, but this reputation has also much to be ashamed of. My friend has rekindled the natural talent and goodness I have always had but rarely exposed or felt a need to do so. I like this feeling in me and she is responding to it giving me a sense of fulfillment after such a long time of at best a mediocre existence. I know I can satisfy so many aspects of her life and I am mature enough to ensure that she has enough space to develop her own identity and unique personality, the potential which I identified and responded to when I first spoke to her. My writing will now take on a more purposeful direction as it will now not only have a have a trusted feedback but maybe of use in a broader sense. I don't know how many can claim this privilege !!!!
So today’s posting hopefully sets the tone for a solid foundation to ensure that I write and of course set the platform for sharing perceptions and lessons that may come in handy and hopefully set the basis for, who knows ????? She has put it so succinctly in one of our chats. Be prepared for the unexpected.!!!!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The three weeks
I came back to what I am now considering my home in Uswetakeiyawa, the half way home and fast becoming my home in the real sense of the word in Sri Lanka. I was made to feel so welcomed by the people in the village when I went for my evening walk. Something I had not done with any consistency while in the commercial hub of the country Colombo for what has been the better part of 8 months from July 2010. It was a wonderful feeling to walk down the familiar byways and lanes, some boiling hot and the others cool covered by the branches of the trees lining the edges of the boundary of the pathways.
There were the The Dixon's, The Manoj's , the Rose Akka’s, the Nalika Nangi's and Chandana Mallies, and an assorted bunch of characters depending on their age wo affectionately refer to me as the “ Kara bu Nati Mama, Aiyah or Malli ,( The Uncle, Elder Brother or young boy with the earring, the earring is my trade mark here ). What amazes me still is the fact that some of the kids still think I am a tourist from the hotel nearby frequented by Caucasians. I generally wear track suits and running shoes and this impression is firm in their minds. They invariably try to communicate with me in English. This in spite of the fact that I am frequently seen engaged in conversations in fluent Sinhalese with their Elders. It is very appealing to me.
I have grown very fond of this environment and find myself very comfortable with the people here better than I do with those of my own background in Colombo. Village life is something I was accustomed to some extend as a child and some how other there are characteristics that are hard to find in the towns and city's in this once paradise island of mine. Although I have only been exposed to the surroundings of Mary's Lane since July 2008 I find that I see when I am walking are similarities to what I recollect of the Town , Kotahena I was born in. Children playing cricket with wooden bats and rubber balls, Parents waiting for their off springs to return after their extracurricular activities and the conversations between neighbors across the street exchanging pleasantries or complaining about the prices of food or just plane gossip about the latest scandal to hit the neighborhood. There are also the occasional violent conflicts which are the result of long standing grudges and unfortunately some of them do result in death though I have never seen any incidences I have heard so. When I amble along I notice the state of the various gardens of the houses I pass and remember the state of the vegetation from the last walk. Very comforting and enhancing that deep sense of belonging. I love it here!
The last three weeks have been one hectic rush and full of tension with the only respite being the six days I enjoyed with my mother in Singapore from the 12th to the 18th of February. That was a memorable journey for me and I will post it separately. The result of the differences of opinions about what I should be doing as understood by my Sister versus my own insistence that I needed to now advance in my life and see a definite change in my circumstances to be productive at a level that I know I can achieve. Unfortunately the whole process of trying to explain this only resulted in bitter tirades and confrontations compounded by misrepresentations of events concerning me over the last few months. My final conclusion ? The people who claim to care about me the most seemed to be my biggest impediment for genuine progress and the typecast behavior of a Bi Polar was still the single association of me and anything I had done or anything I was attempting to convey in addressing issues that had to be resolved. It was depressing to say the least and even if I say so myself I have really come along away from what I was in 2008 ! I don't know how I found the strength and ability not to relapse and keep going with headstrong determination to establish my rights and needs and with a few compromises did achieve most of what I wanted.
The decision to come back to the half way home for a while was simple. My physician has advised me and I feel the need to recharge the batteries as it were. I need to rethink my life style so that my exercise routine and yoga practice occupy prime time in my day. My energy levels are depleted and they have to be restored quickly. This is the place to achieve these objectives and I have plenty of freedom and clout to demand that the Management accommodate my requests. Basing my self here and planing action for execution would be easily accomplished rather than my dissipating energies shifting residence on a short term basis or shuttling between Colombo and here. Overall it will be comfortable and will be ideal to allow for steady progress with a lot less stress than other options available to me right now. My objectives and ambitions on where are I want to see my self by the 31st of August remain the same but the methods will be modified.
Somebody had written recently, in context of the present situation in the Middle East quoting the physicist Max Planck who said, “Scientific theories don’t change because old scientists change their minds; they change because old scientists die.” In my context I interpret it thus... “ I don't think perceptions about me are likely to change easily and god forbid I don't want my family to die because I need them to change. They after all have supported me unstintingly thus far. I will change my methods to achieve what I want and pursue my dreams with the confidence I have acquired now about my ability. I don't intend to die in the process but live instead to see the skeptics acknowledge the change !”
There were the The Dixon's, The Manoj's , the Rose Akka’s, the Nalika Nangi's and Chandana Mallies, and an assorted bunch of characters depending on their age wo affectionately refer to me as the “ Kara bu Nati Mama, Aiyah or Malli ,( The Uncle, Elder Brother or young boy with the earring, the earring is my trade mark here ). What amazes me still is the fact that some of the kids still think I am a tourist from the hotel nearby frequented by Caucasians. I generally wear track suits and running shoes and this impression is firm in their minds. They invariably try to communicate with me in English. This in spite of the fact that I am frequently seen engaged in conversations in fluent Sinhalese with their Elders. It is very appealing to me.
I have grown very fond of this environment and find myself very comfortable with the people here better than I do with those of my own background in Colombo. Village life is something I was accustomed to some extend as a child and some how other there are characteristics that are hard to find in the towns and city's in this once paradise island of mine. Although I have only been exposed to the surroundings of Mary's Lane since July 2008 I find that I see when I am walking are similarities to what I recollect of the Town , Kotahena I was born in. Children playing cricket with wooden bats and rubber balls, Parents waiting for their off springs to return after their extracurricular activities and the conversations between neighbors across the street exchanging pleasantries or complaining about the prices of food or just plane gossip about the latest scandal to hit the neighborhood. There are also the occasional violent conflicts which are the result of long standing grudges and unfortunately some of them do result in death though I have never seen any incidences I have heard so. When I amble along I notice the state of the various gardens of the houses I pass and remember the state of the vegetation from the last walk. Very comforting and enhancing that deep sense of belonging. I love it here!
The last three weeks have been one hectic rush and full of tension with the only respite being the six days I enjoyed with my mother in Singapore from the 12th to the 18th of February. That was a memorable journey for me and I will post it separately. The result of the differences of opinions about what I should be doing as understood by my Sister versus my own insistence that I needed to now advance in my life and see a definite change in my circumstances to be productive at a level that I know I can achieve. Unfortunately the whole process of trying to explain this only resulted in bitter tirades and confrontations compounded by misrepresentations of events concerning me over the last few months. My final conclusion ? The people who claim to care about me the most seemed to be my biggest impediment for genuine progress and the typecast behavior of a Bi Polar was still the single association of me and anything I had done or anything I was attempting to convey in addressing issues that had to be resolved. It was depressing to say the least and even if I say so myself I have really come along away from what I was in 2008 ! I don't know how I found the strength and ability not to relapse and keep going with headstrong determination to establish my rights and needs and with a few compromises did achieve most of what I wanted.
The decision to come back to the half way home for a while was simple. My physician has advised me and I feel the need to recharge the batteries as it were. I need to rethink my life style so that my exercise routine and yoga practice occupy prime time in my day. My energy levels are depleted and they have to be restored quickly. This is the place to achieve these objectives and I have plenty of freedom and clout to demand that the Management accommodate my requests. Basing my self here and planing action for execution would be easily accomplished rather than my dissipating energies shifting residence on a short term basis or shuttling between Colombo and here. Overall it will be comfortable and will be ideal to allow for steady progress with a lot less stress than other options available to me right now. My objectives and ambitions on where are I want to see my self by the 31st of August remain the same but the methods will be modified.
Somebody had written recently, in context of the present situation in the Middle East quoting the physicist Max Planck who said, “Scientific theories don’t change because old scientists change their minds; they change because old scientists die.” In my context I interpret it thus... “ I don't think perceptions about me are likely to change easily and god forbid I don't want my family to die because I need them to change. They after all have supported me unstintingly thus far. I will change my methods to achieve what I want and pursue my dreams with the confidence I have acquired now about my ability. I don't intend to die in the process but live instead to see the skeptics acknowledge the change !”
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Strange But True
As usual I start my post with the same excuse that I must not procrastinate!!! However as I am learning fast it is a reality. The problem is I like to write but I need to be inspired to get the creative juices going. Todays post was inspired by an email I sent to my psychiatrist which prompted to document a surreal event that occurred last night.
I was very depressed as it seemed like I was getting no where in terms of getting my immediate family to realize that what I had planned for was realistic and achievable and my Bi Polar disorder should't be an impediment to my ambitions. I hear all the time that people do live normal lives with this condition but in my case my support system which is primarily my Sister doesn't seem to think so. I try to explain but end up in arguments leading to comments that I am still unstable. What is sad is that how labels never can be removed in the eye of the beholder. And I have experienced this so many times I am getting used to it which frightens me as the only thing I am sure about is my ability to survive and overcome and if I loose that focus I will be nothing.
Anyway I am fortunate with all the problems that happen I am presently living in the lap of luxury at the Hilton Residency in the heart of Colombo Sri Lanka. To that extent my Sister never spares the expense to take care of my well being. What I guess she can't quite comprehend and I guess in retrospect is quite natural is why I can't accept that this the best I can get and why bother to look or aspire for more. Unfortunately that philosophy doesn't quite sit well with me as it goes against my funder mental nature and naturally I resent it. Anyway that is another subject for a another post. To get back to what happened last night.
I heard that there was a live band with a good reputation playing down stares and I thought lets go enjoy myself and get out of the room and the depressive feeling that was overwhelming me. changed into a smart casual outfit and contemplated dinner on my own and to just be and will myself not to think about the problems but actually hoping I might find some interesting company to dance and chat with.
The Bands' reputation was true. They were good. The sound was balanced and the music was early eighties and material I liked. I was relaxing looking around smoking and trying to see if there were any single ladies to pick up. I was half listening and taking in the scene as it were when suddenly I heard a favorite song of mine. I froze as I heard the familiar lyrics and the cold realization of what I was thinking about struck me. It was something I had completely dismissed from my mind for quite sometime and I felt terrified. I thought I was over her and finished with her in any emotional sense but the music and her image fixated in my mind and try as I might I couldn't stop the process and the inevitable conclusion that this was something that would continue to haunt me dawned.
I tried desperately to force and stop what I was thinking about, I looked at the others trying to see somebody I could approach, ask for a dance, have a drink so that I could be distracted.
Nothing worked ! I walked out to the side walk and lit up. My hands were trembling in probably the hottest season in town. The doorman looked concerned and I had to force a silly grin to assure him I was alright. paced up and down and tried to calm myself. I thought how come suddenly this woman came into my mind I had been very confident that it would never happen. What stupidity. I would never be able to forget her in the context I thought about her. What will I do do now ?
My nerves had settled down and I suddenly felt a sense of calm and contentment. I had to accept the truth. I have to also accept the reality that I will always think about her again like this !!! But let it be, I told myself I don't know stranger things have happened and if thinking about her is something that is going to happen regularly so be it, in what ever context, it makes me happy !
The song "You are all ways on my Mind" was sentimental and not quite the one I have in mind now, but it set the mood. The image was a picture that I took of probably one of the most wonderful human beings I have ever met in my life, curled up like a kitten in a chair sleeping and I had just finished the longest Mobile call I can remember of one hour and twenty eight minutes and thirty three seconds just two hours and fifteen minutes ago with her!
I was very depressed as it seemed like I was getting no where in terms of getting my immediate family to realize that what I had planned for was realistic and achievable and my Bi Polar disorder should't be an impediment to my ambitions. I hear all the time that people do live normal lives with this condition but in my case my support system which is primarily my Sister doesn't seem to think so. I try to explain but end up in arguments leading to comments that I am still unstable. What is sad is that how labels never can be removed in the eye of the beholder. And I have experienced this so many times I am getting used to it which frightens me as the only thing I am sure about is my ability to survive and overcome and if I loose that focus I will be nothing.
Anyway I am fortunate with all the problems that happen I am presently living in the lap of luxury at the Hilton Residency in the heart of Colombo Sri Lanka. To that extent my Sister never spares the expense to take care of my well being. What I guess she can't quite comprehend and I guess in retrospect is quite natural is why I can't accept that this the best I can get and why bother to look or aspire for more. Unfortunately that philosophy doesn't quite sit well with me as it goes against my funder mental nature and naturally I resent it. Anyway that is another subject for a another post. To get back to what happened last night.
I heard that there was a live band with a good reputation playing down stares and I thought lets go enjoy myself and get out of the room and the depressive feeling that was overwhelming me. changed into a smart casual outfit and contemplated dinner on my own and to just be and will myself not to think about the problems but actually hoping I might find some interesting company to dance and chat with.
The Bands' reputation was true. They were good. The sound was balanced and the music was early eighties and material I liked. I was relaxing looking around smoking and trying to see if there were any single ladies to pick up. I was half listening and taking in the scene as it were when suddenly I heard a favorite song of mine. I froze as I heard the familiar lyrics and the cold realization of what I was thinking about struck me. It was something I had completely dismissed from my mind for quite sometime and I felt terrified. I thought I was over her and finished with her in any emotional sense but the music and her image fixated in my mind and try as I might I couldn't stop the process and the inevitable conclusion that this was something that would continue to haunt me dawned.
I tried desperately to force and stop what I was thinking about, I looked at the others trying to see somebody I could approach, ask for a dance, have a drink so that I could be distracted.
Nothing worked ! I walked out to the side walk and lit up. My hands were trembling in probably the hottest season in town. The doorman looked concerned and I had to force a silly grin to assure him I was alright. paced up and down and tried to calm myself. I thought how come suddenly this woman came into my mind I had been very confident that it would never happen. What stupidity. I would never be able to forget her in the context I thought about her. What will I do do now ?
My nerves had settled down and I suddenly felt a sense of calm and contentment. I had to accept the truth. I have to also accept the reality that I will always think about her again like this !!! But let it be, I told myself I don't know stranger things have happened and if thinking about her is something that is going to happen regularly so be it, in what ever context, it makes me happy !
The song "You are all ways on my Mind" was sentimental and not quite the one I have in mind now, but it set the mood. The image was a picture that I took of probably one of the most wonderful human beings I have ever met in my life, curled up like a kitten in a chair sleeping and I had just finished the longest Mobile call I can remember of one hour and twenty eight minutes and thirty three seconds just two hours and fifteen minutes ago with her!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Bertrand Russell Vs Hosni Mubarak
This is an excellent comparison that anybody following events in the Middle East should read. Unfortunately I didn't save the link so the date maybe wrong. The Authors Name is Correct and I post it with the consent to use I found it with.
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By Imran Garda
Exactly 41 years ago to the day the great British philosopher Bertrand Russell died. Among the countless works that will continue to bring him posthumous recognition, are his various treatises on human psychology and the one thing he considered the principle driving force in social life - power.
As Hosni Mubarak addressed the millions of Egyptian people, marching, protesting, bursting with revolutionary fervour intent on seeing him vacate a Presidential seat he's occupied for 30 years, I pondered over what Russell would think of Mubarak, and his address, wherein he promised to step down - eventually.
Below are extracts from Russell's articles on political power and the book, "The Conquest of Happiness", offset with extracts of Mubarak's latest speech:
BR: The statesman who has gradually concentrated all power within himself in order that he may be able to carry out the high and noble aims which have led him to eschew comfort and enter the arena of public life, is amazed at the ingratitude of the people when they turn against him.
HM: "Those protests were transformed from a noble and civilised phenomenon of practising freedom of expression to unfortunate clashes, mobilised and controlled by political forces that wanted to escalate and worsen the situation. They targeted the nation's security and stability through acts of provocation theft and looting and setting fires and blocking roads and attacking vital installations and public and private properties and storming some diplomatic missions."
BR: It never occurs to him that his work may have had anything but a public motive, or that the pleasure of controlling affairs may have in any degree inspired his activities. The phrases which are customary on the platform and in the Party Press have gradually come to him to seem to express truths, and he mistakes the rhetoric of partisanship for a genuine analysis of motives.
HM: "I have never, ever been seeking power and the people know the difficult circumstances that I shouldered my responsibility and what I offered this country in war and peace, just as I am a man from the armed forces and it is not in my nature to betray the trust or give up my responsibilities and duties...Hosni Mubarak who speaks to you today is proud of the long years he spent in the service of Egypt and its people. This dear nation is my country, it is the country of all Egyptians, here I have lived and fought for its sake and I defended its land, its sovereignty and interests and on this land I will die and history will judge me and others for our merits and faults.
BR: Power, like vanity, is insatiable. Nothing short of omnipotence could satisfy it completely. And as it is especially the vice of energetic men, the causal efficacy of love of power is out of all proportion to its frequency. It is, indeed, by far the strongest motive in the lives of important men.
HM: "My primary responsibility now is security and independence of the nation to ensure a peaceful transfer of power in circumstances that protect Egypt and the Egyptians and allow handing over responsibility to whoever the people choose in the coming presidential election.”
BR: In any autocratic regime, the holders of power become increasingly tyrannical with experience of the delights that power can afford. Since power over human beings is shown in making them do what they would rather not do, the man who is actuated by love of power is more apt to inflict pain than to permit pleasure. If you ask your boss for leave of absence from the office on some legitimate occasion, his love of power will derive more satisfaction from a refusal than from a consent. If you require a building permit, the petty official concerned will obviously get more pleasure from saying 'No' than from saying 'Yes'. It is this sort of thing which makes the love of power such a dangerous motive.
HM: "I am now absolutely determined to finish my work for the nation in a way that ensures handing over its safe-keeping and banner ... preserving its legitimacy and respecting the constitution.
"I will work in the remaining months of my term to take the steps to ensure a peaceful transfer of power
"I will entrust the new government to perform in ways that will achieve the legitimate rights of the people and that its performance should express the people and their aspirations of political, social and economic reform and to allow job opportunities and combating poverty, realising social justice.
"I also demand the judicial and supervisory authorities to take immediately the necessary measures to continue pursuing outlaws and to investigate those who caused the security disarray and those who undertook acts of theft, looting and setting fires and terrorising citizens.
"This is my pledge to the people during the last remaining months of my current term: I ask God to help me to honour this pledge to complete my vocation to Egypt and its people in what satisfies God, the nation and its people”
BR: Disgusted and disillusioned, he retires from the world after the world has retired from him, and regrets that he ever attempted so thankless a task as the pursuit of the public good.
HM: "I say in all honesty and regardless of the current situation that I did not intend to nominate myself for a new presidential term. I have spent enough years of my life in the service of Egypt and its people.”
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By Imran Garda
Exactly 41 years ago to the day the great British philosopher Bertrand Russell died. Among the countless works that will continue to bring him posthumous recognition, are his various treatises on human psychology and the one thing he considered the principle driving force in social life - power.
As Hosni Mubarak addressed the millions of Egyptian people, marching, protesting, bursting with revolutionary fervour intent on seeing him vacate a Presidential seat he's occupied for 30 years, I pondered over what Russell would think of Mubarak, and his address, wherein he promised to step down - eventually.
Below are extracts from Russell's articles on political power and the book, "The Conquest of Happiness", offset with extracts of Mubarak's latest speech:
BR: The statesman who has gradually concentrated all power within himself in order that he may be able to carry out the high and noble aims which have led him to eschew comfort and enter the arena of public life, is amazed at the ingratitude of the people when they turn against him.
HM: "Those protests were transformed from a noble and civilised phenomenon of practising freedom of expression to unfortunate clashes, mobilised and controlled by political forces that wanted to escalate and worsen the situation. They targeted the nation's security and stability through acts of provocation theft and looting and setting fires and blocking roads and attacking vital installations and public and private properties and storming some diplomatic missions."
BR: It never occurs to him that his work may have had anything but a public motive, or that the pleasure of controlling affairs may have in any degree inspired his activities. The phrases which are customary on the platform and in the Party Press have gradually come to him to seem to express truths, and he mistakes the rhetoric of partisanship for a genuine analysis of motives.
HM: "I have never, ever been seeking power and the people know the difficult circumstances that I shouldered my responsibility and what I offered this country in war and peace, just as I am a man from the armed forces and it is not in my nature to betray the trust or give up my responsibilities and duties...Hosni Mubarak who speaks to you today is proud of the long years he spent in the service of Egypt and its people. This dear nation is my country, it is the country of all Egyptians, here I have lived and fought for its sake and I defended its land, its sovereignty and interests and on this land I will die and history will judge me and others for our merits and faults.
BR: Power, like vanity, is insatiable. Nothing short of omnipotence could satisfy it completely. And as it is especially the vice of energetic men, the causal efficacy of love of power is out of all proportion to its frequency. It is, indeed, by far the strongest motive in the lives of important men.
HM: "My primary responsibility now is security and independence of the nation to ensure a peaceful transfer of power in circumstances that protect Egypt and the Egyptians and allow handing over responsibility to whoever the people choose in the coming presidential election.”
BR: In any autocratic regime, the holders of power become increasingly tyrannical with experience of the delights that power can afford. Since power over human beings is shown in making them do what they would rather not do, the man who is actuated by love of power is more apt to inflict pain than to permit pleasure. If you ask your boss for leave of absence from the office on some legitimate occasion, his love of power will derive more satisfaction from a refusal than from a consent. If you require a building permit, the petty official concerned will obviously get more pleasure from saying 'No' than from saying 'Yes'. It is this sort of thing which makes the love of power such a dangerous motive.
HM: "I am now absolutely determined to finish my work for the nation in a way that ensures handing over its safe-keeping and banner ... preserving its legitimacy and respecting the constitution.
"I will work in the remaining months of my term to take the steps to ensure a peaceful transfer of power
"I will entrust the new government to perform in ways that will achieve the legitimate rights of the people and that its performance should express the people and their aspirations of political, social and economic reform and to allow job opportunities and combating poverty, realising social justice.
"I also demand the judicial and supervisory authorities to take immediately the necessary measures to continue pursuing outlaws and to investigate those who caused the security disarray and those who undertook acts of theft, looting and setting fires and terrorising citizens.
"This is my pledge to the people during the last remaining months of my current term: I ask God to help me to honour this pledge to complete my vocation to Egypt and its people in what satisfies God, the nation and its people”
BR: Disgusted and disillusioned, he retires from the world after the world has retired from him, and regrets that he ever attempted so thankless a task as the pursuit of the public good.
HM: "I say in all honesty and regardless of the current situation that I did not intend to nominate myself for a new presidential term. I have spent enough years of my life in the service of Egypt and its people.”
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
A Weekend of Dreams
As usual I start todays post with the same old excuse that I have not kept to my resolution of posting something everyday. This particular post was prompted by three straight nights of weird dreams and encouragement from a very warm and nice human being I met a few days ago.
It started after Friday I had been back at the half way home for a two weeks and was trying to complete the project I had undertaken for my office. I ran into a problem and try as I might couldn't debug what should have been very easy for me. Anyway that evening I was taking about this to one of the staff members, whom I met first in May last year when I came back here to the half way house after my last relapse. ( To think we hated each others guts with a vengeance at that time and strangely now are very close friends ) She pointed out that I shouldn't pursue any work that day and get some rest. I remember telling her that I just intend to spend not more than an hour that night and have a crack at it the next day. My intentions were to finish by the weekend so that I could go to to Colombo and present my output to my office and get a feed back on my efforts on Monday. So around 9 PM I thought I will target 10.30 PM as bedtime and switched on my Notebook. I worked for some time on the net looking for an answer and tried various search algorithms and got so many examples for what I should do but nothing worked. After sometime ( I believed I was at it for an hour or so ) I had to visit the loo and when I came back and looked at the time it was 1.30 AM!!!. I was stunned... I had not only spent over four hours on the Internet, not found a solution and didn't even know what time it was! I realized the folly of what I had done. This was something my friend had warned me about in the evening, and this was not the first time she had made this observation about my obsessive nature and the third person who had done so in as many months. I changed my idea of visiting Colombo the next week, deciding instead in spending one more week at the half way home, seek some assistance to resolving my problem and do it the following week after resting for couple of days without thinking about the project at all.
My best buddy had repeatedly advised me about taking up Yoga and I thought I would do so that day and and managed to lay my hand on a DVD of a Hatha Yoga routine for a beginner. I asked my friend, who also did Yoga instructions at the halfway home, to join me so that we would practice together and she could give me her input as to see how this might help me relax. It went as planned but I couldn't quite complete the entire 45 minutes but resolved that I would do so as a regular routine of my day from then on.
I watched the news, cheering the Egyptians as I saw the dramatic turn of events in Cairo and turned in around 10 PM. I did fall asleep pretty fast but I don't for how long it was before I was seeing images of all my dead relatives. I can't quite remember the circumstances in which they were associated in my dream but when I was startled with one particular image of an aircraft crash, my brother in law died in one, I woke up. I looked at the time it was 5.30 AM, my usual wake up time. I had not thought of any of my dead relatives for quite some time and I was pondering why I suddenly had to dream about them now. I was a bit perturbed as it had been after quite sometime that I had such a vivid dream and with such clear images of these people. Even awake their memory is a haze unless I look at a photograph.
Anyway the next night I did go to bed around the same time and ended up with an even bizar dream. I was in the third story of an apartment with one of my old girl friends and she was frying an egg hopper ( A flour based Batter as the base ) on one burner of a cooker and frying another egg on the other both were sunny side up and I remember wondering why on earth she was frying two eggs this way at the same time. She looked very much her old self, pretty and sexy, not the person I had seen some time back when I thought and almost exclaimed in shock " Why on earth have you let this happen to you ? " but very much the attractive girl I had a short but memorable fling. I hear a voice from outside and lo behold its the Parents of another of my old flames. Somehow I understand that I am to bring down a set of keys and hand it over to them. One the Parents had died a long time ago but that fact didn't quite register. It turns out the only way down to the ground was a cement ladder attached to the wall with no handrails. For someone who doesn't venture six inches above the ground these days unless there is a hand rail and somebody to cling onto for dear life attempting this feat quite calmly even in the dream was pretty absurd and I was going down not facing the wall but seeing my feet below and looking at the ground making out the minescular figures a great distance away somehow in fine detail bravely cursing the Architect and the Mason for this absurdity in construction. I find myself on tera firma and in comes the next actor, and old Man Servant of mine. I had fired him long years ago, he is dead now, who takes the keys to park a vehicle, which I didn't notice in the scenery thus far and drives it into a garage. Incidentally this guy never had been behind a wheel of car and I didn't even own a vehicle when he was in my employment!
I am then up in a flash outside the third floor which mysteriously now has a grill shouting at my ex to let me in and a pussy cat in my hand. My ex is listening to some loud music singing and dancing her cares away. ( She wasn't good at either then and hadn't improved in my dream ) I am screaming my lungs out through the grill but there is no sound from my throat. I am suddenly in the apartment and my ex has vanished with the cat and a Resident of the half way House is eating a Mango from fruit basket that has appeared on a table that was not there before. This enrages me as I find a knife and plunge it repeatedly with such venom at this guy, ( and mind you I like this guy and he is one of the more sedate people in this mad house and I am genuinely fond of him ), and wake up gasping for breath sweating like hell. When I put on the light it's 5.45 AM. My covering sheet and the blanket on it are the ground, it was cold that night, and the mattress had moved away from the wall! To say I was disturbed is putting it very mildly. Anyway my mood improved as the day progressed. When I recounted this to my friend later it prompted a wry comment that this is why she keeps her distance from me when she sees my hands stretch out in her direction especially towards her neck voicing her concern about my intentions of doing her bodily harm no doubt. I don't quite blame her for feeling these sentiments considering the way I bully her regularly !
The day was uneventful otherwise. I was waiting for the information I wanted to help me with my project and pretty much lazed around all day. My trip to Singapore had been confirmed and I was looking forward to the visit of my Sister and Mother from Canada on the 6th of the month. I had company in the night, some music transfers had to done, and ready after checking in on Egypt to hit the sack. This was the third day of Yoga though I could't see any noticeable improvement I did begin to understand some of the reasons behind the Asanas or poses. I was happy that I was keeping to the schedule. I had also spoken to my Mother and was in a good mood. I had enjoyed the Company I had, it had been fun. I tuned on to my favorite Radio Station and drifted away to Brad Paisley crooning away in 5.1 surround sound in the distance. It must have been
around 10 PM ?
The feeling was out of this world and the sensations so real. I was getting a blow job of my life. I knew the person vaguely but had never thought of her in any physical sense let alone giving me head. As recorded in my book I am finely in tune with my body and it gets turned on every where, and I mean head to toe, when I am aroused especially with an accomplished partner. My orgasms are total body experiences and never restricted to my dick alone. In the few occasions I have had wet dreams it has been hard to distinguish between the reality and the dream till the actual ejaculational when semen streaming down your thighs wake you up. This was heaven !!!. The scene shifts abruptly and I curse as I find my self at the Sri Lankan Independence square which has been replicated with a deep square well in between the structures. The square has four lions at each corner and at the replicated one, on the main platform stands one of the Residents holding a mannequin getting ready to throw it down to the well between the structures. The mannequin is about five feet in length and looks heavy and this Resident is a four feet no inch Midget. I am also very fond of her as she of me, when she is in a good mood that is. She is extremely powerful and I can say that with authority as once in an display of affection she practically extracted my arms out of their sockets when she embraced me and pulled at my hands. The pain was so intense I thought I would pass out! So her brandishing a mannequin bigger than her and waving it around effortlessly didn't surprise me even in the dream. I wake up cursing the Dream Dispenser for changing the scenery in what would culminated beautifully for me with this rather insipid drama that was going on. It has been more than a month since I have had sex and I have been yearning to get back to one particular person who's absence has been occupying my mind and a wet dream would have been the best substitute for the real mcoy rather than the image of a gargoyle waving a mannequin however amusing in retrospect that might be. It was 4 AM and pretty early even by my standards. Cursing I grumble calming my throbbing dick and try to grab some sleep.
It seems like the intermission. I am sitting at a table on the platform of the square with the Captain of the Sri Lankan Cricket team being quizzed about the progress of my project while being served sandwiches by another Resident who had made same thing for a Residents birthday party a few days back, the colors of the sandwiches I was chomping are is the same as that day , Pink and Green, I look down and my favorite Midget is standing on the head of one of the Lions waving a fan similar to what Royalty used to keep their head cool in the days when we were ruled by Kings. ( I tried to find the English term for this apparatus in a search of the Internet and I couldn't. I did find the Sinhala word from the Staff here, it's " Chamara " but failed in finding the English translation for it. ) The mannequin had been dashed to the the ground smashed with blood all over the place especially around it's head !
I wonder what the fuck I am going to dream today ! Any dream interpreters out there I could use your help.
It started after Friday I had been back at the half way home for a two weeks and was trying to complete the project I had undertaken for my office. I ran into a problem and try as I might couldn't debug what should have been very easy for me. Anyway that evening I was taking about this to one of the staff members, whom I met first in May last year when I came back here to the half way house after my last relapse. ( To think we hated each others guts with a vengeance at that time and strangely now are very close friends ) She pointed out that I shouldn't pursue any work that day and get some rest. I remember telling her that I just intend to spend not more than an hour that night and have a crack at it the next day. My intentions were to finish by the weekend so that I could go to to Colombo and present my output to my office and get a feed back on my efforts on Monday. So around 9 PM I thought I will target 10.30 PM as bedtime and switched on my Notebook. I worked for some time on the net looking for an answer and tried various search algorithms and got so many examples for what I should do but nothing worked. After sometime ( I believed I was at it for an hour or so ) I had to visit the loo and when I came back and looked at the time it was 1.30 AM!!!. I was stunned... I had not only spent over four hours on the Internet, not found a solution and didn't even know what time it was! I realized the folly of what I had done. This was something my friend had warned me about in the evening, and this was not the first time she had made this observation about my obsessive nature and the third person who had done so in as many months. I changed my idea of visiting Colombo the next week, deciding instead in spending one more week at the half way home, seek some assistance to resolving my problem and do it the following week after resting for couple of days without thinking about the project at all.
My best buddy had repeatedly advised me about taking up Yoga and I thought I would do so that day and and managed to lay my hand on a DVD of a Hatha Yoga routine for a beginner. I asked my friend, who also did Yoga instructions at the halfway home, to join me so that we would practice together and she could give me her input as to see how this might help me relax. It went as planned but I couldn't quite complete the entire 45 minutes but resolved that I would do so as a regular routine of my day from then on.
I watched the news, cheering the Egyptians as I saw the dramatic turn of events in Cairo and turned in around 10 PM. I did fall asleep pretty fast but I don't for how long it was before I was seeing images of all my dead relatives. I can't quite remember the circumstances in which they were associated in my dream but when I was startled with one particular image of an aircraft crash, my brother in law died in one, I woke up. I looked at the time it was 5.30 AM, my usual wake up time. I had not thought of any of my dead relatives for quite some time and I was pondering why I suddenly had to dream about them now. I was a bit perturbed as it had been after quite sometime that I had such a vivid dream and with such clear images of these people. Even awake their memory is a haze unless I look at a photograph.
Anyway the next night I did go to bed around the same time and ended up with an even bizar dream. I was in the third story of an apartment with one of my old girl friends and she was frying an egg hopper ( A flour based Batter as the base ) on one burner of a cooker and frying another egg on the other both were sunny side up and I remember wondering why on earth she was frying two eggs this way at the same time. She looked very much her old self, pretty and sexy, not the person I had seen some time back when I thought and almost exclaimed in shock " Why on earth have you let this happen to you ? " but very much the attractive girl I had a short but memorable fling. I hear a voice from outside and lo behold its the Parents of another of my old flames. Somehow I understand that I am to bring down a set of keys and hand it over to them. One the Parents had died a long time ago but that fact didn't quite register. It turns out the only way down to the ground was a cement ladder attached to the wall with no handrails. For someone who doesn't venture six inches above the ground these days unless there is a hand rail and somebody to cling onto for dear life attempting this feat quite calmly even in the dream was pretty absurd and I was going down not facing the wall but seeing my feet below and looking at the ground making out the minescular figures a great distance away somehow in fine detail bravely cursing the Architect and the Mason for this absurdity in construction. I find myself on tera firma and in comes the next actor, and old Man Servant of mine. I had fired him long years ago, he is dead now, who takes the keys to park a vehicle, which I didn't notice in the scenery thus far and drives it into a garage. Incidentally this guy never had been behind a wheel of car and I didn't even own a vehicle when he was in my employment!
I am then up in a flash outside the third floor which mysteriously now has a grill shouting at my ex to let me in and a pussy cat in my hand. My ex is listening to some loud music singing and dancing her cares away. ( She wasn't good at either then and hadn't improved in my dream ) I am screaming my lungs out through the grill but there is no sound from my throat. I am suddenly in the apartment and my ex has vanished with the cat and a Resident of the half way House is eating a Mango from fruit basket that has appeared on a table that was not there before. This enrages me as I find a knife and plunge it repeatedly with such venom at this guy, ( and mind you I like this guy and he is one of the more sedate people in this mad house and I am genuinely fond of him ), and wake up gasping for breath sweating like hell. When I put on the light it's 5.45 AM. My covering sheet and the blanket on it are the ground, it was cold that night, and the mattress had moved away from the wall! To say I was disturbed is putting it very mildly. Anyway my mood improved as the day progressed. When I recounted this to my friend later it prompted a wry comment that this is why she keeps her distance from me when she sees my hands stretch out in her direction especially towards her neck voicing her concern about my intentions of doing her bodily harm no doubt. I don't quite blame her for feeling these sentiments considering the way I bully her regularly !
The day was uneventful otherwise. I was waiting for the information I wanted to help me with my project and pretty much lazed around all day. My trip to Singapore had been confirmed and I was looking forward to the visit of my Sister and Mother from Canada on the 6th of the month. I had company in the night, some music transfers had to done, and ready after checking in on Egypt to hit the sack. This was the third day of Yoga though I could't see any noticeable improvement I did begin to understand some of the reasons behind the Asanas or poses. I was happy that I was keeping to the schedule. I had also spoken to my Mother and was in a good mood. I had enjoyed the Company I had, it had been fun. I tuned on to my favorite Radio Station and drifted away to Brad Paisley crooning away in 5.1 surround sound in the distance. It must have been
around 10 PM ?
The feeling was out of this world and the sensations so real. I was getting a blow job of my life. I knew the person vaguely but had never thought of her in any physical sense let alone giving me head. As recorded in my book I am finely in tune with my body and it gets turned on every where, and I mean head to toe, when I am aroused especially with an accomplished partner. My orgasms are total body experiences and never restricted to my dick alone. In the few occasions I have had wet dreams it has been hard to distinguish between the reality and the dream till the actual ejaculational when semen streaming down your thighs wake you up. This was heaven !!!. The scene shifts abruptly and I curse as I find my self at the Sri Lankan Independence square which has been replicated with a deep square well in between the structures. The square has four lions at each corner and at the replicated one, on the main platform stands one of the Residents holding a mannequin getting ready to throw it down to the well between the structures. The mannequin is about five feet in length and looks heavy and this Resident is a four feet no inch Midget. I am also very fond of her as she of me, when she is in a good mood that is. She is extremely powerful and I can say that with authority as once in an display of affection she practically extracted my arms out of their sockets when she embraced me and pulled at my hands. The pain was so intense I thought I would pass out! So her brandishing a mannequin bigger than her and waving it around effortlessly didn't surprise me even in the dream. I wake up cursing the Dream Dispenser for changing the scenery in what would culminated beautifully for me with this rather insipid drama that was going on. It has been more than a month since I have had sex and I have been yearning to get back to one particular person who's absence has been occupying my mind and a wet dream would have been the best substitute for the real mcoy rather than the image of a gargoyle waving a mannequin however amusing in retrospect that might be. It was 4 AM and pretty early even by my standards. Cursing I grumble calming my throbbing dick and try to grab some sleep.
It seems like the intermission. I am sitting at a table on the platform of the square with the Captain of the Sri Lankan Cricket team being quizzed about the progress of my project while being served sandwiches by another Resident who had made same thing for a Residents birthday party a few days back, the colors of the sandwiches I was chomping are is the same as that day , Pink and Green, I look down and my favorite Midget is standing on the head of one of the Lions waving a fan similar to what Royalty used to keep their head cool in the days when we were ruled by Kings. ( I tried to find the English term for this apparatus in a search of the Internet and I couldn't. I did find the Sinhala word from the Staff here, it's " Chamara " but failed in finding the English translation for it. ) The mannequin had been dashed to the the ground smashed with blood all over the place especially around it's head !
I wonder what the fuck I am going to dream today ! Any dream interpreters out there I could use your help.
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