30 August 2010
From the grayed tangles
left between the teeth of a comb
from a waft of faint perfume
sitting light on the late autumn breeze
from the tender hum
of an old tune
And whisper in my ear
“ I am trying to forget you too”
28 August 2010
24 August 2010
18 August 2010
Capture your plight
through a lens
tune the shadows
to tell the complete story
Aiyyo and Aney sin in the caption
Is nothing but a ………
have never been to
is among the
sunset orange barley
Pottu on her brow
Dialog ? really?
for the cue for her to speak.
PS: This is a first . I have never explained my poems . This is based on stories I heard from people who have visited Jaffna . That is what most us living beyond shores do . Exchange travel stories . And relish later. The story of dialog is based on the fact that the light house on point pedro is covered by two transmitting towers put up by Dialog . I found that to be ironic.
15 August 2010
14 August 2010
Legal services, Nuwaraeliya pola. Reasonable charges , friendly and personalized service at the comfort of a lush office . And did I mention the professional staff?
11 August 2010
So in a sense this is more or less a translation or an adaptation
the mimosa thorns jab
pain fade in a moment
the bleeding cease even faster
on the piercing
after picking out the barbs
and prick me
10 August 2010
08 August 2010
Of the Sri Lankan business magnate who get’s on his private jet from an east asian country , crashes in the Andaman sea and disappears forever.
Either you believe the story as it was boiled down to , as an unfortunate incident .
Or all the conspiracy theories published in news papers , found it's way through gossip and hovered in the air reside in a corner of your mind. Permanently occupying some of your grey cells . triggering connections of many things , most things, that happen around you.
A hair cut , a proper shave and a head massage with Bay rum, for 30 rupees. An offer hard to refuse .
And sitting in the worn out barber chair at Rathnam barbers’ , I pop the question at him .
He is Rathnam , the propriter , sole barber, and a man with a secret.
The mention of the very name startle him , and causes a small knick behind my ear .
I deliver the first delivery a little outside the off stump.
“Some say he now hides away somewhere in Nuwaraeliya “
“He lived with a servant boy with one eye , and every evening sang que sera sera “
Killed him again. Ironic isn’t it .
The Tune is Que Sera Sera.
And I’ll be dammend , the man has only one eye.
Either you believe this
Actually the Barber charged me 30 rupees and trimmed my hair. The Cobbler was a simple man who spoke only inTamil. The musician is blind and plays some unrecognizable tune.
As for the Great Sri Lankan entrepreneur , well for what I know , his plane crashed and the body was never found.
But don’t you like my version?
a striking young man
with his first born
in his hands
Unsure of the future
of his black and white world
Best shirt on
from his three shirt wardrobe
a bicycle leaned against
the jam tree
in the distant background
Unaware of the things to come
that he would
toil for years
in the scorching heat of a arid land
Next to that photo is another
his son cradling in his hands
the granddaughter whom he never knew
with an uncommitted smile
07 August 2010
Stairway to majesty. I sit.
The chill of the cold floor running up my feet , up my spine .
I contemplate , not of the the kings ,
nor the adikarams nor the nilames . Not even the Dukganna ralas who walked this very ground.
But of our kind ,
the simple folk who toiled and laboured
and went home in the evening.
01 August 2010
The uniforms are blueish white. I assume because of the washing blue used to whiten them.