Monday, December 24, 2012

Wish you all a Merry Christmas !

                                                                  (Thanks Marie!)

                       I wish you all my blog friends a peaceful and a happy Christmas.

                             Whether you are a Buddhist, a Hindu or a Muslim, may you be able to help another family and see the joy it brings to their eyes.                              

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

The Girl, the Old Man, and the Moon Lit Night

My grand father worked in a mill. I assume that he was around 60 years old when I remembered him. He was my idol in my childhood since I grew up away from my parents. My father got a job in Cement Corporation and left me with my grand parents because he didn’t want to change my school. My two younger sisters went with them. So I was left at my grand parents’ home and they looked after me as best as they could though they didn’t understand my loneliness caused by the absence of my parents. To give justice to their kindness I have to say that they tried to keep me happy and occupied.
               My grandfather was respected among his peers because he was efficient, helpful and very honest in his work. But it was tricky to work as a machine operator since even a slight mistake would cause you lose one of your hands or maim you for the rest of your life. So the work needed the highest scale of concentration & I have seen people who became disabled for the rest of their lives due to lack of concentration.
                        Since my grand father was older than many of the mill workers they came to him for any trouble. But the boycotts and strikes were never heard of in my grand father’s time.
                    After finishing work my grand father would come home. After having a hot cup of tea from grand mother he gets ready for his next important task, prawn  fishing. Fishing was part of my grand father’s life. He would fry thinly sliced coconuts and some other edible ingredients together and make fragrant balls out of them to entice prawns and lobsters in the river.
                 Then we wait. And we wait. We wait for two or three hours.
                   Then, when it is dark, my grand father takes the fishing net and I take the reed bag to hold the catch. He goes first, and I follow him with the hurricane lamp. At the river bank he removes his sarong and wades into the water in his loin cloth. I look around, as I am scared to stand alone in the river bank. The shadows move, reminding me the monsters of the childhood dreams.
                 Once in the water grandfather throws the net, and it sinks into the shallow river bed, creating ripples in the water. Frogs croak continuously, and my ears are brimmed with sounds around me. Then, grand father brings the net to the river bank and let the contents fall onto the uneven surface of the river bank. At once, my nose is filled with the scent of repulsive yet fresh mud. I move the mud with my fingers looking for the glistening eyes of the prawns. I am very happy to see them and put them into the bag. Grand father goes into the water again for another netful of prawns.
                   Sometimes, we are rewarded with a treasure. Grand father is able to catch a big lobster who tries to slip away from the strong grasp of his fingers. Its green and orange tentacles are a treat to the eye and I am overjoyed when I remember its delicious flesh which would be saved just for me at dinner. Its lengthy legs are twitching to crush any thing which goes between them. I am very cautious and handle it with care.
                         Now, it’s very dark. I can’t see even the silhouette of the grand father but I hear his activities in the river. His throwing of the net, his wait, his diving to the shallow bottom of the river to collect the net and coming to the river bank. He wades the river shoulder deep, throws the net tying one end to his waist. It sinks to the shallow bottom making a plopping sound. Grand father waits for a few minutes before he grabs the net alive with prawns. Meanwhile I direct  dim light of the lamp at the slightest sound made by trillions of nocturnal creatures around me. The marsh is alive with the sounds of night. The unending music of frogs is mixed with owls and other numerous undecipherable sounds make me frightened as they come alive in my imaginary mind.
 And then; the pale moon throws her glow over the river bank above the coconut grove and let her beams dance on the river giving me a glimpse of my grand father. He is coming again with his catch and I anticipate another batch of prawns.  I never cease to wonder the miracles of nature of having created millions of different species and to let them live in one planet making my planet a suitable  place for their sustenance.
                     Grand father loosens the net and drops its contents to the rough floor of the river bank. I wait breathlessly to see the red beady eyes of the prawns glimmer, making it easy to identify them in the dark. I quickly move the mud with my bare fingers which I long to do in expeditions like this and collect the little creatures for my spicy, hot dinner and inhales again  the repulsive yet tangy and fresh mud in the process.

                 At last, we are done. Grand father takes the lead and I follow  clutching  the handle of the reed bag tightly in my left fist not to let out the slithery creatures in it. Grand father warns me  to tread cautiously on the floor  which is covered with dry leaves, sticks, cow dung and what not .Danger lurks in the disguise of snakes, centipedes and scorpions on the footpath we walk. Because it is their hour and we are the trespassers in their domain.
                      It’s around 8.00 p.m. Grand mother is waiting for us. She has already prepared the spices and coconut milk. The lobsters and prawns are taken out from the bag, cleaned and washed. She kindles the fire and cooks them on low heat on the wood fire to absorb the taste of the prawns to the rd hot curry prepared with dried chili powder and other spices and coconut milk. A delicious and mouth watering smell waft from the pot and I still yearn for grand ma’s delicious curry which makes me nostalgic because they are a few of the sweet memories I carry from my childhood.
                   When the cooking is over  grand mother dishes out the steamed rice and the prawn curry,  a red hot gravy; red prawns floating in it. It is a very delicious meal and I  have always asked for a second helping .Grand mother with a twinkle in her eye gives me the biggest prawns and after a hearty meal I sleep on the reed mat, satisfied and with a full stomach. I am content with my journey to the river which has given me many ideas to ponder over as sleep hugs me and whispers to my ears.

(I have to say a 'big thank you' to our art teacher, Mrs. Wasantha Fernando for her beautiful sketch.)

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Are You One of These?


The coffin lay
on the tiled floor
of the crematorium.
forlorn and withered

The lace and silk
adorns the body
pale and peeling like parchment.

Husband is at home
keeping company
to a lonely house.

No use crying over
spilt milk.
Life must go on
as it used to be.

Son and daughter
sit far from her
eagerly waiting
to finish things over.

Mourners observe time
to go home
to resume their work
 half done.

All wait
for a close relative to come.

A car door opens.
A man gets out and
hurries to the coffin.

 Mutters a few
 comforting words
to the son, standing.

The hot fire
embraces the woman!
A sigh of relief

from the son!
Now he can resume
 his thesis writing!

Friday, November 2, 2012

The cockroach;the book lover

(Thanks go to the art teacher in my school for the drawing of the cockroach)

It was a long awaited journey; my going to the annual book fair.I have been going there for around ten years. I used to go there with my son and we made it a point not to miss it at any cost. It was more than buying books.  I was able to enjoy freely with my son for a full day without listening to husband's complaints of leaving home unattended for a whole day.He  shied away from these kind of trips as he has no interest on books. (he reads but never buys!) Both my son and I enjoyed the food at the book fair, we bought books; he-computer books and I ; hunting Arthur.C.Clarke's and Issac Asimov's  books which are not  easily found on the other days.

                              We chatted while enjoying an ice-cream and observed others who had come to the exhibition from all over Sri-Lanka.It was like a  huge party thrown by an invisible person making us bound together  by the humanity and the recreational activities.

                         But as time went by my son got busy with his exams and  he could not accommodate my requests to accompany me with my roamings to the big capital.

                    Yet, I continued my roamings to the book fair as usual and  enjoyed them to the fullest.I walked among crowds with my gunny bag and other bags slung over my shoulders and touched books, read pages,memorized designs, recipes and sometimes even drawings when the book was too expensive for me.

                         I felt naughty when I noticed that a salesman came to stand near me pretending to select books and keeping a close look on what I was doing.Then I would purposely linger there more to make the poor man uncomfortable and letting him puzzle over  my unusual behaviour, with that particular book in my hand.

             So, I went to the exhibition this year too. Yes.Alone.I went to EXPOGRAPHIC first.It is my favourite book shop.Many science fictions were there and I read the reviews on the back page and selected a few books. Books went into the gunny bag which hung on my shoulder.
            Then I remembered an Ad on T.V. and went to an IT stall, looking for a software which is used  to read books on I pad.  The place was not crowded and there were two cute girls in the reception.
          "Yes, Madam, What can we do for you" ?

                                I explained them what I needed.Then while I was talking, my back tingled with a slight sensation.I ignored it and paid attention to the girl who was very keen on explaining their new product.

                  The second time I sensed that the thing I felt on my back was something alive! It moved very,very,very  slowly on my neck and my hairs stood at end.I wanted to scream and wriggle my body to drop the thing but my conscience warned me to behave cautiously in the presence of an audience.I gritted my teeth and tested my patience to the last drop scarcely paying attention to the girl who gibbered near me.Unfortunately the thing moved a  little bit up along my neck and all my sanity was lost to reason. 

                                    I frantically dropped my gunny bag to the floor, shook my body with full force to drop the evil thing while  letting out a long drawn scream making people freeze.As soon as my scream was over I heard another similar scream and then I saw it was  coming from  one of the two  girls.  

                                             The girl was wiping something, plunging her hand in the deep  cleavage in her blouse and I could see her face distorted with fright.She continued to scream with a shrilly voice  calling every one's attention to the scene.It was like a behaviour of a madwoman.She was trying to take something out in her blouse but it seemed that her efforts were futile for all the screaming and running .Unaware of the audience her wail collected, she held the two  edges of the front of her blouse in  two hands and shook it frantically to drop something while giving a wild dance to the rhythm of her fluctuated cry, remembering me  an African Tribal dance I have seen in Discovery Channel many years ago.I thought that all the limbs in her body would come loose to that vigorous shake but luckily it didn't happen. 

                                Unexpectedly the girl stopped her wild dance in the middle of the climax and ran  to an inner room in the stall crying,  but  a  small brown lump lay helplessly on the floor. It slowly stretched  its tiny limbs and tried to walk shakily as it too was overwhelmed by the incidents it had to face few minutes ago.

                    It was a tiny cockroach!

The others in the room were more concerned of the girl as the gathering mainly consisted of her co-workers and people who ran other stalls in the book-fair.The crowd dispersed with different emotions on their faces; some exciting as she had given them a free entertainment which is rare in any book fair and some others genuinely sorry for their friend for the discomfort and embarrassment she underwent in public.

                               But I was more concerned with the object on the floor because my mind argued it was my doing at last. My heart was scolding me for  being the cause of this commotion and letting an innocent girl, how silly her behaviour was, to be ridiculed by others.

                              I just stood there while observing others' behaviour and once made sure that they have resumed work, slowly took  a few steps close to that object and gave a little push from the tip of my shoe. It lost its orientation and took fer circles on the floor but crept under the carpet as promising me not to disturb others in the future.

                                     Then and there I stopped my inquiry on the software and I even lost the desire to buy more books or to stay further in the exhibition and left the place with misgiving thoughts.

                         I think that the cockroach was in my gunny bag  as  it was sitting in my cupboard  for some time without being used. When I carried it, slung on my shoulders it must have crept up to my back and you know the rest. 
                                            It was unintended but I should have been more careful of  my paraphernalia.Whenever I remember that incident I regret for my  crime  in the book fair.

                   What will be your verdict, fellas?

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Treasure of Four Crowns and me

              I can't exactly remember when I watched it.It was either in late 1980 s or early 1990 s. Anyhow what matters to me is not the year but the experience.

           My husband and I went to see a film but the film we intended to watch was gone before the due date as the film could not attract enough audience for a good income for the theatre owner. At that time we rarely watched films as it was very difficult to find time to be alone as I had to devote my entire time after coming home from work for my little kid, my grasshopper.                     

             So whenever I wanted to have a little pleasure away from my hectic life I planned it carefully  and this time it was to watch a very famous,classical Sinhala film. I was highly frustrated to see that it was gone and  thought of returning  home.but my hubby was against it."We have already come to the theatre. Let's watch the new movie in the theatre and see how it is." He said.                                           

                                      When we entered, the ticket counter and the surrounding area was jam packed with people.I was still angry for not being able to watch my long awaited film and waited without any interest while my husband went to buy tickets.                

               He returned with tickets but there was something else in his hands. When I threw a questioning look into his eyes, he shrugged his shoulders and meekly muttered"These were given together with the tickets ."                 

               They were two pairs of celluloid  glasses the kids wear when they play house.I was furious.                    

                       "Couldn't you tell them that our eye sight was normal as to watch the film without these ridiculous glasses?"              

                   "Don't shout. When the tickets are bought, each was given a pair of this. I think it is needed in the theatre."      

 "What nonsense." Throw that away!I am not going to wear it in the film hall."    

                    "O.K. O.K.  Let's not argue here. All are looking at us.Let's go inside and and see what is happening."        

                         Finally I went with him and sat under a fan. I closely observed others.Some were looking at the glasses  while some others had already worn them and waiting  for the film to start.Then the third bell rang and the lights went out.       

                        In the dark I watched others' behaviour. They were intently looking at the screen.I stole a glance at my hubby. He also had worn the glasses and watching  the screen.I was angry for being made to wear this silly childish glasses and strongly decided not to wear them.                      

                                The story began but alas! Everything was a blur.  I heard the music and misty shadows moving on the screen but that's all.I squinted my eyes and tried my best to see what was on the screen but apart from the background music, I could not see anything else. I felt desperate and  looked around. My hubby too was watching the film.                

  I nudged him.How could he enjoy the film when his better half was feeling so uncomfortable?              

      He  looked at me and indicated me to wear the silly glasses and turned his attention back to the screen completely ignoring my plight in the dark.  I was outraged and pinched him tightly in the left arm.The arrogance of the man!   

                         It seemed that I was defeated. There was nothing else to do but to bow down and wear those wretched glasses and I cursed myself for being so foolish to agree to watch any kind of film with that ugly thing on my eyes.       

      What if my students saw me in the theatre now. I would be the laughing stock of the school the next day.              

             " You know machan! Yesterday I went to  a film and guess who I saw there!Miss  M...wearing  a pair of plastic glasses and watching a film!!!!"   

                He.. with them!Behave like a Roman when you are in Rome.  

                         I mustered enough courage to wear the glasses.  At once I was swept of my feet Few people were running towards me and I waited cautiously until they disappeared. A helicopter started to fly and it came  directly towards me.Without thinking twice I ducked and from the corner of my eye I saw that the man sitting on my right was  doing the same. What the heck!   

                                            I was highly confused and didn't know when I removed the glasses. but when the images again became a blur only I realized I was without them and automatically my hands wore the glasses for me.  

                                       The story was about a treasure. Some people wanted to steal it and they had to face a self-defensive, auto activated mechanism which consisted of  fire balls, turning wheels, shooting arrows and daggers and sliding and disappearing doors and many more.When those mechanisms started to activate at unexpected moments there were many in the audience who ducked, wriggled or turned their heads aside to prevent a blow or an arrow in a futile attempt. I too did the same but when it became clear to me that my heart was going to explode with fright I shut my eyes tight and pretended watching the film but  just listening to the sounds.         

       After a few minutes I felt a whisper in my ear and heard " open your eyes fool!That scene is over."              

           I slowly opened my eyes to see the amused but kind look of my husband. He gave me  an orange and for a moment I had to focus my attention to the orange and my fear was forgotten.     

                     I enjoyed the film to the fullest  but once in a while was careful enough to remove the glasses for a few seconds until the highly intense moments were over.                      

                    During the whole time I was in the theatre I saw many frenzied and peculiar behaviour in the audience as they bent forward or backward  sometimes lifting an arm to avoid a blow aimed at them by the main character in the film.Though you knew that this was just a mere film those sudden reflexes were inevitable and we all succumbed to them in the hall.We, as a family laughed at each other in the hall and were highly amused at our own foolish and childish but unavoidable behaviour because the film was so intense and packed with action.               

                                Anyhow we both enjoyed it and we talked about nothing else for a long time. But once at home I became the victim and when my husband described the incidents in the film  hall my family members doubled with laughter making me red with shame.                     

                    But I have to say it. It was an experience of a life time. I will never forget it. I have never thought of seeing something like that even in my wildest dreams. Though the young generation was fortunate enough to  have  modern technology at their finger tips even the word 'computer' was never heard of at that time.Computers might have existed here but it was zillion miles far from the common man.     

                       The word '3D' became popular in recent years and then one day I suddenly remembered the film we watched many years ago.I  understood the reason why it was necessary to wear glasses to watch the film and how the audience was made to experience the film.I typed the title of the film  in Google and found out more about it.             

         My findings and my intense and  haunting  memories of the film  made this post possible. I hope that I was able to convey the joy and excitement I felt by  watching the film"The Treasure of Four  Crowns"  to you.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

It's Not About Chicks

 I made chicken korma.

                             Actually I can't boast about my cooking as I am a lousy cook.That is why my family members(two innocent victims) are highly surprised once they had the first bite in their mouths.
                              My husband took the first bite with that ' what to do' look in his eyes which I have seen so many times in the past once they were forced to eat one of my elaborate but failed dishes  for the lunch. I was eagerly watching his response and got ready to listen to another lecture on  my cooking.
                His expresion changed and I closed my eyes waiting for the familiar set of words. When I opened my eyes he was full of smiles.Gobbling the first piece and taking another juicy one in his hands he exclaimed " oh,my! Finally my woman has shown  her culinary  expertise!"
                        Brimming with pride and joy but very cautious not to show it as he is unpredictable in his remarks, I controlled my facial muscles which were trying so hard  to surface a smile.

I threw a humble look at him.He was eating and talking and I couldn't decide which was faster.'That's what I am telling you all the time, woman! If you pay more attention to your cooking he and I won't have to go hungry "(nodding at the direction of my son) .
                       To say how much he appreciated my chicken curry, my hopes of sharing a dish with my neighbour  was totally  shattered.

        Up to now I kept you in the dark and now comes the most important thing.

          The secret was in  the simplicity of the dish.

        I don't want to tire you with my details but this dish  was very different from my regular chicken dishes and that's why I want to share it with you.
                 I did some adjustments with the ingredients and used only the most important. 
                                Apart from chicken I added a lot of coriander leaves,( not only for garnish but  in the curry too), curd, garam masala ( something similar to our spices) and water. Yes a lot of water. Three cups full!
        No coconut milk. I was puzzled as how to make the curry creamy and thick without coconut milk and doubtful whether it would  succeed.
                   Though it needed a few ingredients the method was somewhat fussy. Some ingredients were to be grounded and some were to be fried  and at the end  I couldn't find space to continue my cooking  as my table was literally cluttered with plates and dishes.
       but I shouldn't worry about them. The final outcome was a marvel.The gravy was very very tasty. As the curry was cooked in low heat for a long time all the flavours were absorbed well into the chicken pieces and it was heavenly to the palette.The dish wafted the strong flavour of corriander leaves(cilantro leaves) and it was tempting and mouthwatering. So I had to bear my husband's over indulgence with the dish.

               Hope any of you are tempted to try this at home and I would like to hear from you You can get the recipe from the YouTube.(there are hundreds of recipes for korma).. Actually  it won't go wrong. Whatever happens, your dish will taste good due to corriander leaves and the curd.


Thursday, August 30, 2012

My Sheep is Jumping over............


Have you ever counted sheep?

                I have. Many times.

                                   Not that I own a ranch house.

                              Then don't you want to know where I counted them? You don't have to .You already  know it  because like me, you too  have done it so many times.

It is a very exciting feeling. To imagine an  unending line of fleecy lambs waiting patiently  to jump over a fence.

                 I start counting. "one,two,three,four"......... .

                          I visualize the eagerness of the lambs. One by one they are jumping over the fence  looking at me with their big, round eyes  and I keep on counting. "Fifty five, fifty six, fifty seven, fifty eight......................

                      The tall trees in the  green meadow sway in the wind and bees hum overhead. Gentle breeze soothes me.I feel calm and quiet."Hundred and one, hundred and two, hundred and three"..............

                 My heavy  eye lids lean on the eyes for support. 

                              "Two hundred and ninety nine.......

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

How He Walks in Style !!

I would be doing an insult to my country as a Sri Lankan  if I  forget to mention the great cultural pagent; The Esala Perahera in Kandy.Though many things have been written and said about the perahera there is still some thing in it which never ceases to amaze us.
       For those who don't know anything about this cultural pagent, I would like to say that it is indescribable in its splendour and exquisite as a creation.
       Buddhists believe that the sacred tooth relic of Lord Buddha is enshrined in a casket in the temple of tooth  relic in Kandy. Every year that sacred casket is taken out from where it is devotedly deposited safely and reverently and taken around  in a procession along the Kandy city during the month of August.This procession is very very beautiful because it announces the world our proud history which goes back to 2500 years.The perahera consists of various dancers,cultural items and especially a large number of elephants especially prepared for the perahera by  multicoloured shiny  clothes with various designs.
                   They are the most eye catching picture of the perahera except the beast of grandiose which steals the lime light of this special occasion. That is none other than the Tusker which has been selected to carry the sacred tooth relic on its back.The success of the entire operation solely lies on this beast and he knows it very well.That is why that never in the history of the esala perahera an elephant had dropped the casket or had taken a wrong turn or ran wild midst all these terrible noise of whips,drums, songs and high pitched sounds and more than any thing else; the fire rings used by the fire dancers.
                   "Nedungamuwe Raja"; one of the few tuskers remain in Sri Lanka (unfortunately the numbers are diminishing fast due to various reasons , especially killing for tusks) has carried the sacred casket this time and it is said that this elephant is very intelligent and has a mind of his own when it comes to take correct decisions without a mahout.
                     It is a complete wonder to think that a mammoth task like this, which needs the time, energy and brains of several hundred people is carried out precisely and accurately by a single beast and this is a tribute to that intelligence, patience and wisdom. Hats off to Nadungamuwe Raja . May you live long to carry out the tradition of Esala Perahera.

(I would very much like to read your comments whether they are criticisms, praise or queries.)

Monday, June 11, 2012

A picture of a winter scene inspired me to write this poem

                Can't You Hear My Sobbing Heart?


 Oh! how I long to fit
 into this heavenly atmosphere,
To walk on untrodden snow
which is something rare
in where I live.        
Reminding me the tales
Of winter Lands
I heard in my grand ma's lap.
The house coated with white,
soothes my tired eye sight.
The horse waits ready
 to pull you to etenity.

Oh! how I long to fit
 into this heavenly atmosphere,
where I can stroll in the floor
of crispy, crunchy snow,
to be exposed to all elements
or walk in the dark woods
 behind the house;
or sit under the tree
reading a book
 of Daphne Du Maurier's,
covering my head
with a  scarf.

Oh! how I long to fit
 into this heavenly atmosphere,         
 let my toes feel
the tingling cold of the brook
and watch  they turn blue;
or to rub my palms together
 and make myself warm,
to open the windows and let
the chilly wind seeeps in.

Oh! Can't you hear my sobbing heart?
Can't you hear my sobbing heart?

Saturday, May 26, 2012

This is what I feel about my son


He composes hip hop and R& B
"REASON" is his tool.
Too old not to do a job
winks when I reprimand him
for his in-activeness.
Society expects the children of the teachers
to be at top levels! How troublesome !

I avoid the gaze of my friends on the bus,
dreading that they will inquire about my son,
 He has a phobia
of exams of any kind:
Used to fall ill a lot
 during his term tests.
His favorite doctor looks at me
with a question mark in his eyes:
indicating that
It is rather psychological than physical.
With a broken heart,
Return home with medication.
 Yet:When his aththa fell ill
He spent a whole week in hospital
looking after him like a baby.
He was the friend of
all the old men in that ward
fetching them all they need.
A cup of tea from the canteen:
a packet of Cream Crackers
 from the nearby  boutique:
Calls to their sons and daughters   (Though I suffered)

Takes his own time to complete the degree
doing everything he can to postpone the exams.
I , wait  helplessly
thinking what I can do to change the situation!
But Whatever you do,
 I love you!
The GRASSHOPPER of mine!


(Luckily for me the situation has changed. He is doing a job now while continuing his studies.)

Sunday, May 13, 2012

The overflowing hospitality of a proud Nation

The month of May is very important to us Sri Lankans.As the Buddhism is the major religion of Sri Lanka, we celebrate the birth, the enlightenment and the passing away of Lord Buddha during the month of May.We attend to religious work in the temples, make wesak lanterns, and display big pandols in major towns and do various charity work to commemorate the supreme religious leader.
                                 Another special feature of the month is the immense hospitality of the tiny, yet a very proud nation with a 2500 year history attached to it.People in all walks of life, irrespective of their cast and creed offer free food to all passers by on the Wesak Day.It is a marvelous and a heart warming sight to see the generosity of people who go out of their way to please others and to quench their thirst and hunger. Sometimes it is funny to see little ones waving flags and trying to stop people who are on their way to various destinations.Though the country is struggling to solve various problems arising from the past no one can deny the generous heart of a proud Nation.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Ah Ha! It's holidays again!

 You may think that I am lazy, but if you are not doing a job, you will never understand the pressure it gives to our minds. I was unable to scribble something here for a long period of time because I have paid more attention to my other  blog which deals with poems.The Easter has come and gone(I am a Catholic who lives in Sri-Lanka) and tomorrow is Sinhala and Tamil New Year. This festival binds our two major communities together and we celebrate it following the customs and rituals  specific to us.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Oh Here She Comes! My Beloved 2012

I have spent one year blogging in the 'Blogger'.It gave me an immense satisfaction and helped me to open my mind and heart to a wider audience who are eager to read and bear others thoughts, arguments, opinions and views on millions of topics on the earth. May be my blog is not read by anybody other than me!(I have to read it since I created it) Who cares? Even then I am happy.  I have many plans for this new year. Hope I will be able to fulfill them in time.