Right now going through dog crisis.There is this cute dog who resides in my hall of residence.I'm suspecting it to be a she but the thing is it always gives me the impression that its a he. Anyway it has been quite a legend at Hilda Obesekara Hall, year before my arrival here. Some say that it has been here even before the days when it became a Girls' Hostel and boys ruled the place( if you can call it ruling that is). Some say that it belonged to the previous warden of this Hall.Anyway when you leave apart all the folklore and come to the actual creature, you get a shaggy dog with a yellow golden hue. I am not an expert on the pedigree of dogs but can come out with the fact that it must be some kind of a cross as it inherits features of both the typical Sri Lankan stray dog as well as a dog with a good upbringing.An accident sometime back before my arrival has left him disabled forever as a result of which one of his hind legs is always straight. It doesn't let the disability come in its day to day life at all and comes running behind me in his characteristic gallop fro the gate of the hall up to my room in the sixth wing.I gather that it is a local favourite among the students and has various names at various wings of the hall ,including "Tutu" and"Charlie".It is one manipulative dog, that I can say for sure,because it will stay for hours in front of my door wagging its tail, with a melancholic gaze until I surrender and give him some biscuits. That I can deal with, but for the last few days the dear fellow has started composing songs at night which has been impossible not to mind at all.I have no idea what is wrong with the fellow, but there he is in my corridor emitting blood curdling howls from time to time all through out the night.sleeping has become an impossible task and what worries me most is that the other girls might be planning to kill both of us in order to get some peaceful sleep. I have no clue as such how to stop this manic episodes. I have already tried not feeding him for a whole day, threatening him, (no use as he is immune to threats) and as a last resort even gave him a tablet of piriton with milk last night. Well, I might have used the piriton my self I guess, because there he was howling his heart out as usual.I really don't have any options left.AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAagh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, October 14, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Beyond Words?
The three words, "I love you" have been uttered by me with real ease over the time.Not that I am in the habit if declaring my love for each and every person whom I set my eyes upon(Although I know some of my so called friends do accuse me for such stunts as well).My boy friend has been literally showered by the blessed words for the past few years that I am afraid it might feel to him like an ordinary " Good morning" or a " See ya later".Then again since I am this creature with the habit of complicating all my friendships I end up loving most of my friends too and so they receive a generous portion of the words as well.But the curious thing is I can never utter those words easily when it comes to declaring my love for my parents. One of my friends(quite jokingly I hope) suggested that it may be due to me not loving them enough. But I know for sure I do. I do love them a lot,but have never uttered those words in any language except for a few times to my mom, which we both allowed to float away into thin air,pretending it was one of my thousand and one jokes.
I am never going to say that mine were the perfect parents.They never were and I hope never will be.Well, if they were the perfect idol of parenthood on whom was I to lay the blame on the crazy person I turned out to be. Or may be it is really the other way around, having me as the first child to handle, a complete nightmare which made them give up their dream of being the prefect parents one could dream of.Anyway, life sure was not easy for any of us I am sure,a fact that would be justified by many of my childhood memories of endless clashes and fights.But, looking back, may be those bumps on the road were meant to be there after all to make us really treasure the smooth paved paths intermingled between those awful bumps.Yes, if not for my dear Amma and Daddo who became so upset when I became the Second of the class and who wondered what really happened to the other 27 marks when I came out of the year five scholarship with 173,I would definitely not have gone through the Medical School and would have instead settled down as a teacher or a writer as I always dreamed. Yet,I would not even in my dreams wish for anyone other than these two because I can occasionally glimpse the immense love that is hidden behind all that bumps in the road.My mom gave birth to me a 4.5kg baby in a normal delivery when the average baby who comes out the same way is only around 2.5kg. She could not put me down even then and had to carry me around with her while doing her first long distance appointment as a teacher. Since then she has always been pushing me forward to places where I know I wouldn't even dream of setting my foot.And she thinks she knows the best(And god help those who try to prove her otherwise)And if she has failed in bringing me up she has it compensated by bringing up generations of .kids at two schools and a .On the other hand Daddo has always been my protective guard(may be a bit too much though at times),frowning at all the poor guys in the vicinity even if they were completely unaware of my mere presence there.it was he who took me to English days in Colombo,who trained my tongue to the flavor of many Indian dishes and the greatest admirer of my clumsy attempts at playing the piano.
May be I would never tell those two that I love them in words. May be don't have the courage to do so due to the fear of the response or may be I just can't express what I feel in those three simple words.But I am sure they know in between the bumps on the road they mean the world to one crazy soul.
I am never going to say that mine were the perfect parents.They never were and I hope never will be.Well, if they were the perfect idol of parenthood on whom was I to lay the blame on the crazy person I turned out to be. Or may be it is really the other way around, having me as the first child to handle, a complete nightmare which made them give up their dream of being the prefect parents one could dream of.Anyway, life sure was not easy for any of us I am sure,a fact that would be justified by many of my childhood memories of endless clashes and fights.But, looking back, may be those bumps on the road were meant to be there after all to make us really treasure the smooth paved paths intermingled between those awful bumps.Yes, if not for my dear Amma and Daddo who became so upset when I became the Second of the class and who wondered what really happened to the other 27 marks when I came out of the year five scholarship with 173,I would definitely not have gone through the Medical School and would have instead settled down as a teacher or a writer as I always dreamed. Yet,I would not even in my dreams wish for anyone other than these two because I can occasionally glimpse the immense love that is hidden behind all that bumps in the road.My mom gave birth to me a 4.5kg baby in a normal delivery when the average baby who comes out the same way is only around 2.5kg. She could not put me down even then and had to carry me around with her while doing her first long distance appointment as a teacher. Since then she has always been pushing me forward to places where I know I wouldn't even dream of setting my foot.And she thinks she knows the best(And god help those who try to prove her otherwise)And if she has failed in bringing me up she has it compensated by bringing up generations of .kids at two schools and a .On the other hand Daddo has always been my protective guard(may be a bit too much though at times),frowning at all the poor guys in the vicinity even if they were completely unaware of my mere presence there.it was he who took me to English days in Colombo,who trained my tongue to the flavor of many Indian dishes and the greatest admirer of my clumsy attempts at playing the piano.
May be I would never tell those two that I love them in words. May be don't have the courage to do so due to the fear of the response or may be I just can't express what I feel in those three simple words.But I am sure they know in between the bumps on the road they mean the world to one crazy soul.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
To those who are Mad enough
Hmmmmmmm I came back home for a short visit. Actually I don't know whether it could be counted as a visit in the first place since I just arrived here this morning to go back tomorrow morning and most of the time in between will be obviously spent in front of the computer.Anyway as I was coming back in the morning train, with all the people dozing off around me this question popped pout all of a sudden. Who really am I?
I was dumbstruck guess for minute or two because I really did not know the answer.Am I what a feel myself to be? Or am I what others see me as? Or is it a combination of the two,and if so which side of the scales come down and which goes up?
According to me, I love people,and I love fun. For me the ideal life is a simple and humble event without much complications(.(yet unfortunately as my boyfriend almost always correctly points out complications and myself are like opposite poles of a magnet to each other, thus always leaving me entangled in a heap of complications).I hate hurting others and I do not have the guts to hurt someone even when the other person really really deserves such treatment. I am the person who would sacrifice everything just because I don't have the courage to say those two magical letters NO and hurt someone else. As a result of this most of the time I find my self immersed in a pool of my own tears.yet, I would always prefer that to seeing others cry.Sometimes i really hate being such a sensitive nutcase, but I guess that is how I was created.
But the sad thing is that that "I 'am never seen by many who know me. Well, the question arises whether they really know me if they don't see that me.To most who know me, Iam this Tomboy who has a big foul mouth and an extremely scary personality that could snap them in to two if they are nearby. In fact one of my friends did tell me that I was like "Hitler"(No offence to him). Usually it does not worry me what others think of me as long as those who were closest to me got to know me. But the thing is what if someone out there is supposed to be one of my closest friends in the future? What if she or he also sees only the protective shell around me and wanders off discouraged by it? That is indeed a scary thought as I hate losing friends. But then I cannot go around people announcing them that the first impression could be misleading and the weird funny girl inside is far more fun to be with(I Hope?)?
I really don't know.So this is all I can do.May be you don't fancy the decorative layers of icing and flowers.Yet the only way you can discover the real flavour cake is by going through that layer. I cannot guarantee that the cake would be better that the Icing(May be it it worse). But we both won't know without trying right?
So here is a toast to all the wonderful and extremely few people who made it through the outer shell to discover the real me.( You can close your mouths now, I guess) and the others out there who might be mad enough to try and follow them
I was dumbstruck guess for minute or two because I really did not know the answer.Am I what a feel myself to be? Or am I what others see me as? Or is it a combination of the two,and if so which side of the scales come down and which goes up?
According to me, I love people,and I love fun. For me the ideal life is a simple and humble event without much complications(.(yet unfortunately as my boyfriend almost always correctly points out complications and myself are like opposite poles of a magnet to each other, thus always leaving me entangled in a heap of complications).I hate hurting others and I do not have the guts to hurt someone even when the other person really really deserves such treatment. I am the person who would sacrifice everything just because I don't have the courage to say those two magical letters NO and hurt someone else. As a result of this most of the time I find my self immersed in a pool of my own tears.yet, I would always prefer that to seeing others cry.Sometimes i really hate being such a sensitive nutcase, but I guess that is how I was created.
But the sad thing is that that "I 'am never seen by many who know me. Well, the question arises whether they really know me if they don't see that me.To most who know me, Iam this Tomboy who has a big foul mouth and an extremely scary personality that could snap them in to two if they are nearby. In fact one of my friends did tell me that I was like "Hitler"(No offence to him). Usually it does not worry me what others think of me as long as those who were closest to me got to know me. But the thing is what if someone out there is supposed to be one of my closest friends in the future? What if she or he also sees only the protective shell around me and wanders off discouraged by it? That is indeed a scary thought as I hate losing friends. But then I cannot go around people announcing them that the first impression could be misleading and the weird funny girl inside is far more fun to be with(I Hope?)?
I really don't know.So this is all I can do.May be you don't fancy the decorative layers of icing and flowers.Yet the only way you can discover the real flavour cake is by going through that layer. I cannot guarantee that the cake would be better that the Icing(May be it it worse). But we both won't know without trying right?
So here is a toast to all the wonderful and extremely few people who made it through the outer shell to discover the real me.( You can close your mouths now, I guess) and the others out there who might be mad enough to try and follow them
Friday, October 7, 2011
Dew drops
There is this Sinhalese saying that a good friend is like your shadow and never deserts you in both happiness or sadness.So does your tears.These tiny dew drops are always there inside your eyes and just like a good friend it does not hinder you path when life is flowing smoothly. Yet when the moment arises when your heart grows weary with emotions that you cannot handle alone just by yourself these little angels announce their existence.They just silently absorb the excess of emotions from your soul and soothes your heart so that you are weary no more.And when the brims overflow and the tiny streams run down along your cheeks, they will carry away a part of your troubles lending you some time to rest and sort things out for yourself.Some say that ones tears hold more power on another human than the mightiest swords. I guess it is true.Because if you are seeing tears welling up in those eyes in front of you, it means that the soul behind those eyes is desperately needing someone to share their feelings right then may it be happiness or sadness.And it feels wonderful to have a loved one beside you when your tears are falling as you know even when the tears stop,you will be taken care of till things become sunny again.
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