Portrait

i’ve recently watched v for vendetta and read george orwell’s 1984. i spent about an hour last night talking with indi about ‘what we can do’. i think a revolution costs money, takes time and requires knowledge. i don’t yet know what i can do, what i’m willing to do. all i do know is that i am most certainly a little more than tired of sitting around and doing absolutely nothing.

my idealistic naivete is a little amusing, but determined none the less.

i read that post on moju and was immediately moved by the tone of the writing. here was someone who seemed to feel the same way i did. she had no plan, no long-term goal, no agenda, yet, but merely a desire to find our power in numbers and do whatever she can. change whatever she can.

i think they have finally decided to meet on saturday the 1st of july. perhaps i will go. just to be there, if nothing else.

i don’t know how meeting helps, but there’s this gut feeling that i have that says it will. i’m a believer in people, and i do have faith in people when they try to achieve something together. we may not be able to change much, but if it’s about getting a page in a local newspaper and publishing our opinions there, coming up with some slogans and displaying them via posters or blog-posts, writing letters to people that matter, whatever it is, i’m sure between us we can figure out a way to have our voices heard. we just need them to know that we’re there too. that we give a shit.

like mala says on ‘enough’ : Omission is an act. Silence is a statement.

it’s a little vague right now, it’s tentative and moves slowly and no one is really willing to take the initiative to lead a movement, no matter what its for. but for what it’s worth, our opinions need to be out there, reaching out to a community larger than that which has access to and interest in the sri lankan blogosphere. more people need to see this. more people need to hear us.

if we were all to sit down somewhere, we’re bound to come up with something productive. some gem of an idea. i know each of us has useful contacts, be it in media or the NGO sector. i know each of us has influence in different areas and each of us knows people up different ladders. i can’t do this alone. i’m too young, i’m too ignorant. i would like for those of you with the age and the expertise under their belts to come out and volunteer to meet up with others, others that share your views and others that don’t.

haven’t we stayed mum for long enough, now? what are we afraid of?

romeo & juliet is not william shakespeare’s best play ever written, let’s admit it, but it has become the world’s most talked about tragedy. this could be for many reasons. it could be because it is beautifully, albeit a little mushy-ly, written, it could be because of it’s universal message of harmony and peace, but it could also be because we like to believe it’s a tragedy about how love conquers all.

performing romeo and juliet is a challenge. you take something everyone knows, or thinks they know, and make it your own. there’s a multitude of pressure. some will roll their eyes and go ‘what a boring, predictable choice to have made’. some will applaud your decision to perform romeo and juliet and then expect all their stereotypes about the play and its charatcers to be enacted. romeo and juliet is neither boring nor great, i personally think shakespeare’s comedies exceed his tragedies by leaps and bounds, but there are a few things that romeo and juliet definitely is : it is heart-wrenching, it is an essential love-tragedy, it is glorious and melo-dramatic and sometimes even grossly sentimental (but audiences love this). it is also a play with twists.

as much as everyone thinks they know romeo and juliet, there’s a lot that the masses don’t know about the play, about the plot, about the characters. knowing the general story line is far from ‘knowing’ the play, and getting to know the play calls for a lot of reading, a lot of imagination on one’s own part and a lot of understanding human nature.

i watched the girls (all very young, all very new to theatre) who’d made the final cast of our 30 minute production of romeo and juliet for the all island interschool shakespeare drama competition, grow from nothing to everything. when we started they were scared of their words, scared of getting them wrong, scared of saying them wrong, scared of misunderstanding them. they were intimidated by the popularity of the play they’d picked, they were afraid of getting it wrong. after all, it is the greatest love story ever told.

we watched 3 different movie versions of romeo and juliet and read the entire play over and over again, searching in every nook and cranny for clues, characteristics and loop holes. we built every character into a whole person, with history, quirks, habits and actual feelings. we took what the play gave us and built the dynamics between charcters, imagining each relationship and its underlying chemistry. i urged them strongly to think outside the frame, to venture beyond all the age-old stereotypes that follow romeo and juliet around. we built and grew and created and imagined, and by the end, they were so sure of who they were, even if will shakespeare himself had walked up and said ‘why does lord capulet limp?’ we would’ve been able to justify it.

out of all the versions of romeo and juliet i’ve seen, i think baz luhrmann cast his the best. if anyone has any qualms, doubts or questions regarding the characters and how best to portray them, watching this movie (and perhaps ‘west side story‘) will give you the best idea. its modern setting will definitely help our generation relate with more ease to its plot and characters, making the job of understanding the people a lot easier.

romeo and juliet is a great play. perhaps its a bit of a crowd pleaser, but dont let its popular nature put you off its true literary value. to all those that scoff at this, go read the entire play first. and then come back and tell me that the words don’t blow you away, that the characters aren’t the creation of someone who really understood people and their ways, that the story doesn’t break your heart (a little?).

tell me you don’t agree that never was a story of more woe: than this of juliet and her romeo.

in ‘androgyny’ shirley manson asks ‘why can’t we all just get along?’

why, indeed.

indi has a great post on this very same question : albeit slightly angrier and heartfelt. the situation has really boiled down to the point where the sri lankan people are left with two options : either you ‘burn your churches, temples, newspapers and schools to a pure ash or grow up and fucking deal.’

it is no longer just ‘their’ war. it is no longer just ‘their’ problem. it’s not just the GoSL or the LTTE or the JVP or the norwegians. it us, too. us with our racism and our intolerance and our inability to grow up a little and look the hell around : our determined inability to see that a world beyond us and our two cents worth does exist.

if we want a ‘united sri lanka’, it’s not going to come to us in our sleep. we have to be prepared to live it, not just talk about it, not just dream about it.

we’re not begging with with our bleeding hearts to revel in the joys of a multi-cultural society, we’re not asking you to rejoice in the diversity of sri lanka’s various communities and cultures. that would be great, but it’s not even that sentimental. we’re just asking you to learn to live with each other.

all the beautiful people

the last month has been an unpredictable blur of deaths and wedding planning for me, my family and extended family (of friends).

the wedding however, was the paramount of success, the pinnacle of our communal happiness.
it was so wildly fun. oh, what an incomparably joyful occasion.

D and i had immense fun, getting dressed, being the bride’s maids. crying a little, laughing a lot. we danced, and drank and ate (that, my friend, is what real food is supposed to taste like) and cried and danced some more. we danced the couple out of the hall to the beatles ‘can’t buy me love’ and A lost his tie after he put it on me.

after smiling so much that it seemed like if i were to smile one more time, it would be to have that smile permenantly plastered to my face, at the end of the day it all felt good. it all felt right. there they all are, all these incredibly beautiful, amazing, caring people that matter so much in my life. i would watch Is trying to wiggle his way into every photgraph we took (iroms says he’s in 80 out of her 95 photographs!), i would watch J and V dance the night away, i would watch N’s silly moves and R’s gangsta style that seemed to only compliment N’s silly moves very much, i would watch my brother gormandize the battered prawns, and i would watch as D was so easily convinced to open the dance floor with me. i missed my aunt T so immensely, but i revelled in the strong, positive presence she left behind in D and N, and in every one of us.

these are the people that have always been there, the ones that will always be there. the ones we cut birthday cake with, the ones we took family trips with, the ones we have to come to know and love over time just as much as the ones we were born knowing, the ones we played hide and seek with, the ones we now get drunk with and the ones we party with.

and now two of them are married, to each other. yippee!

oh, what an incomparably joyful occasion.

…and i could run from the shelter of your home into the pouring rain, into your arms and cuddle in their warmth, and find infinite comfort in their grasp, and unstinted joy in their strength, so that we could dance till we were soaked to the skin and then some, i could watch you smile and move the way no one will ever move, ecstatic from the rain

…that i could wake up in the middle of the night next to you and watch you sleep, you look so beautiful that i want to cry, never wanting this moment to pass, so completely perfect, so wholly satisfying, and i could watch you like this forever and let the crushing, constricting feeling flow out of me and seep into your skin, and then maybe you would know, then maybe you would understand just how much

…i can now reach across her sleeping body for your hand, and your hand will find mine, in a gentle grip that is consoling and friendly, loving and secure, it will find my hand and together our hands will hold each other, just very barely but still truly, honestly enough to mean the world to us both in that fraction of a second, and then we can fall asleep this way till the world wakes us up

…the jealousy of him is innate, i feel like i have been born to be jealous of whoever tries to know you, to love you, but you are not mine to keep, and neither am i your’s, although that would make life simple and nice, we are not to be owned by each other’s selfish love and morals, i love him too now, but mostly because he makes you happy and i can see the joy in your face like i often haven’t

…you have known me too long, too well, we change and grow and disagree and love and live and hurt and cry and laugh and dance, sometimes strained and distant sometimes incomparably close, nothing comes close to what you mean to me now, just now, now that we have found each other in this whirlpool of sadness and confusion, of impermanence, like we always do, exactly when we most need to

…and i dared not move when you fell asleep on me on that long bus ride home, because i was afraid that if i moved i’d wake you, and if i woke you, then i’d disrupt the delicacy, the sheer artistry of that very moment, in which we were closer than ever, in the moonllight i could see your face, your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted in that typical way in which you always fall asleep, and i could have held you there forever if you were happy, and i loved you so unconditionally

…so in this fumbling prose, these disjointed verses, this sentimental garbage that my tired mind is spewing, inspired in the middle of an early morning in which i have just left your side, i am trying to tell you who you are, to me, to everyone, you are you, inherently important and so very beautiful, and i love you, that’s all

Many children were on the bus

while asvajit is busy stealing titles for his blog posts from me, our lives go on more or less undisturbed…

but according to BBC, ‘At least 64 people - many of them children - have been killed in a mine attack on a Sri Lankan bus, police say.’ this wakes me up a little, shakes me out of my stupor of comfort and lethargy.

the BBC report continues -

Another 45 people were wounded in the attack in the town of Kabithigollewa, 200km (125 miles) north of Colombo in Anuradhapura district.

The government has responded with air strikes on Tamil Tiger positions.

The Tigers say the attack may be the work of a paramilitary group linked to the government.

Government spokesman Keheliya Rambukwella said the administration would have to “seriously consider” the ceasefire agreement.

Military spokesman Brig Prasad Samarasinghe said the blast was caused by one or two mines left in a tree - a tactic used so the ground does not absorb the blast.

Anuradhapura was the ancient capital of Sri Lanka. Correspondents say Thursday’s attack has extra significance as it was carried out in the Sinhalese Buddhist heartland.

A relative mourns after Thursday’s bus attack (images and captions from BBC)

the violence is mindless, painful to everyone involved and everyone affected. nothing justifies this. nothing anyone says is going to make it better. what’s the point? it’s futile and meaningless and downright cruel.

ultimately, all anyone does is point fingers. the government blames the LTTE and the LTTE blames a ‘paramilitary group linked to the government.’ what does any of this matter to those who had to see their children’s body parts in the nearby trees? what does any of this matter to those whose loved ones were blown to bits on their way to work or school? oh, us poor unsuspecting, innocent civilians. caught in the crossfire again.

no one is held responsible. none of it is accountable for. it’s a vicious cycle all over again. all these ‘attacks’ provoke retaliation and the peace talks go nowhere. wtf.

i’m tired, fed up, and on the rag. one would think life couldn’t get much more miserable than it is right now.

i want to cry.
everything hurts. my back, my legs, my head. the pain is constant and searing as much as it is constant.

i can sit down, with my head in my hands, and let the prokofiev surround me, heal me.

i can our take our memories to bed with me, from where we could see the sky, and wake up happy.

i can let the exhaustion seep into my skin and cramp me now, and sleep tight till it’s time to go.

i can think of you tomorrow and hope that you are feeling better, calmer, than i do, and that you’re doing ok.

but for now…i will dream about this man, and how best to do justice to his literary creativity tomorrow.

…and try and remember what someone (who is both immensely beautiful and ridiculously intelligent) told me, quite unaware that they were making a terrible lot of sense…that there is never a better time than now, and there is never a better place than here.

my now and here is superb.

i can sit here, and paint my life on a large canvas ; there will be no gaps, no voids.

this will never be over soon enough. for either of us. but, we’ll live. and even at the end of it all, we’ll be there.

‘don’t be lazy’, by asvajit.

i want to change the world.

not being significant enough frustrates me and angers me and depresses me. i’ve been told activism isn’t for people like me, people like us, the elite, the educated, the middle-class. but i can’t see a people more fit for activism, for making some serious changes through actual action and determination. i walked out of anoma wijewardena’s exhibition ‘quest’ yesterday with a heavy heart and a seething unrest within me.

she’s one of sri lanka’s leading modern artists and her exhibition of photographs and carefully selected words left me gasping for some fresh air. i was left with a burning desire to channel my energy to doing something about, and something for, the world.

i can see the vicious cycle so clearly : the reveloutionaries have almost always been the poor, the downtrodden, the ones who never benefit from the advantages we so easily take for granted. they are driven to activism, to reveloution because they have no option. they very badly want a different life. they have experienced injustice first hand and have borne the brunt of the political corruption that makes sure some of us stay safe and happy. they have been there. seen it. lived it. they are compelled to take action by sheer desperation, by their most primitive instinct : the instinct for survival.

yet, once they flippantly flee into methods of action that they see as the only way out, they are outnumbered, outsmarted, crushed, silenced.

look at us. we have everything it takes. we’re educated, resourceful, creative, talented, and reasonably rich. we have everything it takes, and we never take the moment to see beyond our sphere of life. because we’re scared. because we’re indifferent. because we really don’t care. of course it bothers us. of course we’ll blog about it. of course we’ll communally mourn the downward spiral the world has taken. but we won’t change it. we won’t even try, because, really, to us it doesn’t matter. we aren’t goint to risk our lives to change the world because the world as it is, works for us. we aren’t going to sweat anymore than we need to, we aren’t going to plan and talk and go that extra mile to take an actively determined step towards making a difference.

but if we did, we’d have something a lot of people throughout history didn’t have the luxury of having access to, whilst taking a stand : we’ll have our power in numbers, and better yet, in knowledge.

we’re the educated ones, right? we’ve been taught compassion and stratergy, history and understanding. we’ve been taught good judgment and tolerence.

i want to change the world. but this doesn’t mean i want to overthrow the government or assassinate george bush. even if i could, i doubt i would choose to because i’d simply have no idea where to take it from there. i don’t know enough. i don’t care enough. even if i could take over the world i wouldn’t because i could never run it properly myself : what a shit job. to run a world in which not at any given point you can rest assured that everyone is happy.

discontentment and restlessness comes from something larger than war and conflict, misery and violence comes from something more infinite than ethnic hatred and xenophobia. we’d never be rid of unhappiness, even if we didn’t kill each other. but exactly for that reason, it would be nice to not kill each other. don’t all of us have enough to deal with as it is, just being human?

i’d be happy changing it a little, just a little.

…about life, amongst other things.

it’s about finding happiness in what you do, who you are and in the surroundings you’ve chosen and the choices you make. happiness is elusive and difficult to define, but i think it’s best recognized as something that comes mingled with your aspirations, pride and ultimately, contentment, no matter how subjective these things are.

it’s about honesty, as this is how life is easiest lived. no matter how horrible, tough, life-altering or hateful the truth is, you can count on it to ’set you free’. truth has a right in it’s own, a supremacy it derives simply from being just itself : the truth. the truth has a power to make hard things easier and wrong things right, to give you an upper hand in every situation you choose to use it, to do justice to the worst scenarios. be honest. about your feelings, about your opinions, about who you are and what you want. never underestimate the power of the truth, and telling it.

it’s about decisions. life is all about choosing between one thing and another, wanting to know all your options but at the same time wishing there weren’t so many, wanting to feel like you’re making the right choice, wanting reassuarance that even if you don’t, the world won’t fall apart. life is really what you want it to be. in it’s essence, it becomes what you make of it.

us, at barefoot. ‘we’ are missing a few more fools, here and there. mika had to go home and the rest of them weren’t there on this day. photo by mo.

if you walk into the garden cafe in barefoot on galle road on any given day, you are almost bound to see us there. now, i realize this sounds uber pretentious, but this is only a sincere shot at giving thanks to something i count as a blessing.

there’s three types of people that hang out at the garden cafe at foot. some meet for business lunches and serious discussions over a glass of wine and some finger food, some go with their friends (or family): girlfriends during their lunch break, mothers and fathers who can let their children run about while they relax under the shade of a tree chilling to mo’s excellent taste in ambiant music…and then there’s us. we’re the ones you look around at and think ‘look at those children, i wish they’d go home and quit disturbing the tranquility of the evening’. we’re the ones that use the foot for everything, from dates to post-stressful day talks. we’re the ones making too much noise and running up a bill that’s too expensive. we’re the ones that are going to monopolize the new bar and we’re the ones that give all parents with young children a good reason to never want their kids to grow up into ‘young adults’.

as far as i’m concerned, the barefoot garden cafe is the only place in colombo of its kind. the food is always good, the wine is always cold, the service is always great, and the atmosphere is always welcoming and comforting. there’s also always some interesting work hanging in the gallery and there’s fantastic live jazz music on sunday afternoons. it is venue to a lot of fancy dinners and hosts many good bands and musicians, both from here and overseas. i have met so many vividly different and interesting people there, heard so many wonderful stories and had so many absolutely stimulating, colourful conversations. i have sat there and felt like there’s a reason we’ve all been thrown together, felt like we can change the world a little, felt like we could, together, take it all on. all in all, the foot is a place to work, read, blog, meet friends and relax.

big respect, thanks and love to naz, dom and mo, who are good people, kind, patient and supportive friends and the greatest hosts ever, for having created a place that’s good for us young and decadent wannabe reveloutionaries.