The generation wilts away

One by one, they leave us. Our grandparents who lived humble lives, with humble values and great expectations for the generation to come. They believed. In everything that surrounded them, in the eyes of their children and in their own souls filled with only the truth. 

Truly, the grandparents are from a generation ago. One that surely saw its war, hardships, movements. But one that also saw success, beauty and better lives with such innocent eyes and minds. Looking on to all things new, forming deeper bonds with their children, indulging in keener moments with their grandchildren.

Today, they leave us. We are those grandchildren who had the gifted luxury of sharing in our grandparents' lives. A moment spent with them was a moment of prayer from a wise man or woman who looked upon you with nothing but the deepest love.

We hope to meet again. 

One moment away from another repercussion

The world today. On the brink of massive self destruction. Who started what, for the sake of what, what does it matter? Does it matter who and why when the repercussions are the loss of innocents? Repercussions. That's what the torn families, dying families, dying children, bruised souls are. The unwelcome, unintended consequences of the world's recent events.

There are those who have lost their way, all in the name of the Lord. They seek destruction, power through blood, blood-thirsty and relentless in their endeavors to end good life. Repercussions. Torn families march along the refugee line, sound families stay no longer sound, hopes shredded with a blast here and blast there, children sleep because sleep is the only thing they have the freedom to do. Lost a brother, lost a mother, lost a leg. They walk on. Going somewhere, not knowing where. Today, their survival instinct is on an all time high.

Take a war-less place in the world today and hold it close to your heart for it may be at war tomorrow. Find a soul unaffected with war today and tell him you love him for he may be at war tomorrow. Keep your family close, laugh, cuddle and thank the Lord there is no war today.  

The world today. One moment away from another repercussion.

Write, scribble or sign

Blank paper stares me in the face

There is no saying what could be written or scribbled or signed

A whiteness that sits flat in front of my eyes

Mistiness settles as I stare into oblivion

This is a blankness that allows my mind to drift

All possibilities that could be written or scribbled or signed

Thoughts that sit inside my mind

Ready to journey to the pen in my hand, clear this blank paper of its whiteness

It will be white no more

I will have written or scribbled or signed

Thoughts perhaps best left unlabeled

Not worthy of a paper so white

The dilemma I face as my thoughts fall still

How could I write or scribble or sign?

Upon a blankness that stands contently pure

Thoughts perhaps not worthy of a paper so white

Home from the 1960's - Sri Lanka

Down past Balangoda, passing the high hills of greens and greens, we hit the main Galle Road going south. Kilometers later, it was on this Galle Road we then took a stop between a couple of alleys to view what used to be my dad's home back in the early 1960's.

Our van parked in front of that home, we saw dad's eyes light up. And as he started reminiscing, we listened and reminisced along with him. He spoke of the garden we saw in front of us; where him and his brother used to play cricket, and the window from which their father called out to them, 'Boys stay still, there's a snake behind you!'.

We saw the gate to the house. Dad said it hadn't changed a bit, the same old, white, metal gate that stood there today was what he used to swing himself over when he was just a boy.
He spoke of the downstairs, right corner in the house that used to be his mother's stitching shop. Here, my grandmother and her fellow seamstresses would get together to stitch up the most adorable victorian dresses for little girls.

And then the window by the side of that stitching room; the window dad and his brother would sneak out from in the afternoons while their mummy napped, to play yet some more cricket!

Young and delightful, my grandparents lived elegant lives on that Ratmalana street alongside neighbors who live there till date. The karyavasans, dad told us a little about them and how the families were in and out of each other's homes.

We all drifted to the 1960s, what life would have been like back then. When he was just a boy. My dad.

A game of Jenga - Sri Lanka

Some crab and six big prawns later, we sit around a big square coffee table over an intended game of jenga. Lilting music floats through the room. The french windows open to the garden now dark with night, the sea only a few meters away with its roaring waves so daunting, so serene all at once - we sit over that intended game of jenga.

Round 6 and the fort holds strong, each one of us making the most careful effort to pull pieces so as not to topple fort.

Round 9, we're now wondering whether it is the wind from the sea that sweeps through this room, that will shift the jenga tower we have now made fairly rickety with our each maneuver.

Round 11, back to me. Here's a combination of knowing this is the end yet giving it that one last heck of an attempt. Human nature really that brings about this hope even in moments of hopelessness.

That was that. The intended game of jenga, now an experience of beautiful music mingled with the sound of the waves, the company of gorgeous people and laughter so tickling upon a finally toppled jenga tower!

In the hammock - Sri Lanka

Lazy day, the sun a warm glow with the breeze softly breezing through the Maggona gardens. I lay in the hammock, a book in hand and a few pages in; with the breeze in my hair &sun playing twinkles on my skin, my eyes surrendered to the sweetest slumber.

That day I met the gym

The day I met the gym was the day I finally accepted the fact that I started wearing a heaviness that was unbecoming. It was alarming at first, a long moment of denial swept over my skin. And then acceptance that I, at that point in time belonged to the unhealthy, fast-food eating, don’t-care-if-I’m-fat-or-not crowd. Not fat but on the verge of. Not sick but on the verge of. Alarming.

So what I considered to be the most unwelcome chore; I fit my feet into my Nike, grabbed the shuffle and headed to face that chore right in the face.

Day one at the gym, post which I felt a sense of pride at the way my body handled aching muscles, arms and legs. Determination to succeed pushed me to the gym an alternate day later, this time a more rigorous and vigorous work out which, I have a feeling opened up new dimensions for me. It was no longer about just the work out. I regarded this as a shift in life; a calling accompanied by challenging notes.

Setting into a work out regime was not the hardest part. Giving up unhealthy food was. Change in diet, low carbs, exploring oats, fruits and salads was a part of life I hadn’t ever travelled. I decided to walk that direction. And what a lot of discoveries I made along the way. I realized how super exciting it was to enter a store and look for something I may not find. I came to understand there are only a few brands that actually gave a rat’s ass about your health. A whole new shopping experience stared me in the eyes.

A month later, I saw myself sliding into sport stores looking to up my gym wardrobe. You see, I already started to notice my arms and legs shaping up, the love-handles handling themselves away from my waist and my overall gait wearing a confidence. A new pair of gym slacks was well-deserved.

Two months down the line and I feel the gym has become some sort of an obsession. I find myself getting cranky on days I’m not scheduled for a workout; such is a state I would never have imagined myself to be in. My music on the shuffle is updated every once in two weeks, I own two pairs of dumb-bells and I study different work out sets to allow me a shift in gear every time monotony starts setting in. The result each time, I challenge myself to surpass my last level on the tread mill, I push myself to do that extra rep of lunges; I'm always left with a sense of great accomplishment.

The day I met the gym. This was the day my life turned a chapter.