STOP SMILING… LIFE’S NOT A KODAK MOMENT!

Humility is sometimes a hard-learned lesson. Self-importance on the other hand, very easily acquired and easily maintained by delusions of grandeur and vague recollections of passing compliments. But what on Earth allowed you to mould this fascinating, enigmatic, all powerful image of yourself?!

It’s fascinating in itself how you go from a relatively insignificant and homely human being ( Who might even be described as “mousy!) , surprised that anyone might even think they’re attractive, who faces every compliment with a genuine surprise and shy wonder ( ME? Seriously? Oh-k!) , to a definitely better-looking but totally out-of-proportion person who thinks the world is always watching her?

Maybe it’s that fast zoom from nerd to smart, maybe nerdy but still very cool. Maybe be it’s the transition from being relegated to watching the “beautiful” people, only watching, never part of them, to actually kind of a beautiful person. You’re finally in a position in life to be able to look and them and LAUGH, not just stand by and ogle like some bloody waif at a baker’s window.

Suddenly, you’re supposed to be everything to everybody, especially that one person. Egged on by compliments…how great you look, how smart you are, how very many friends you have, pushed on by great results at everything you do. Freudian Ego puffs it chest like a Testosterone-injected rooster among a group of willing hens.

And soon everything’s about you. Everyone’s worrying about your welfare and everyone’s watching every separate move you make with bated breath. Everything you do academically is a guaranteed success and whatever you write is brilliant. Small failures, glaring mediocrities go ignored-they don’t even make a noticeable dent in the sturdy Ego.

It takes a surprise defeat from an unexpected flank to make you realise that the Universe is not going to wait watching for your very foolish vanities.

Grabbing at straws

Serrating my fingers

Leaving them cut open

And raw, red,

Skin peeling off.

The strings of despair

Threats of chances slipping

Away.

Gripping harder

In a pathetic effort

To retrieve,

Bring back

The Perpetual Yesterday

Of yellow suns

and light.

Crumble Pie

Life crumbles
Very slowly around you
A gradual process
It transforms from
Unfairly perfect to
Ugly.
Polluted with pacifying
Half-truths
And the forced smiles
Of civility.
But the will stands resolute.
Because even when
You have none
For in the end our
Journey
Is a solo drive,
You have yourself
And you're damn good enough
For yourself.

Natural pessimism?

It must be my natural pessimism, Although I believe very much in optimism and I preach it to all those people who see the glass as being half empty.
Every time I'm on my way home from a REALLY good time, the kind of good time which makes for memories you talk about years later, in conversation starting with " hey you remember that time when we went to...",l I think of how soon, it'll come to an end.

This is life after all. if everything was one, big happy holiday, the point would be lost and I wouldn't even be able to enjoy what i can't have all the time. But life gets so complicating so FAST, it's like a flash of lightning leaving you with this fading feeling of forgotten euphoria, and a burnt ass that you have to deal with.

Geez.

The terrors of insignificance

it's so easy to feel insignificant. You simply allow the carefully constructed Ego and Super Ego to fall away a little, the armour you build up to avoid feeling the true mediocrity of your life.

The you get to thinking fantastic thing- like if you were to get raped, if you were to fall terrible terminally ill, if you were to offer someone the ultimate choice, you or The Dream, where would you stand in terms of the people who you deem important. Somehow, family always seems to be the ones whose opinions matter the least...because you already know what they'll say. That's at least a boring given.

Then you might come across someone fabulously talented, someone who writes expressing feelings you never even thought to encapsulate, or someone who sings so beautifully it bring unwitting tears to the eyes of the listeners who unknowingly hush up to hear better. Then you're hit with you as you are-nice enough, OK too, a good person maybe even a special person or missable to some, but just that and nothing more.

An ordinary Joe. And soon the people whose opinions you're sadly unaware of, will reliaze that too.

Up until you strap up with your armour again, it's enough to keep you thinking about it.

The Visitor

You know how human society as we know it, came to be because of the gradual move of nomadic tribes towards settled agriculture? Eventually, because they were no longer hunting and gathering, they formed concrete groups. SO, like my Uncle R was telling me today, without society, the average person goes mad.

Reading Dear John by sappy retard Nicholas Sparks was not such a great idea. I've become a nomad. I have no real "place" anymore, and my "people" are confused. I'm in one place, so-called home, for a short spell and then return to "abroad". I'm a visitor in both places in the end...Sri Lanka moves on fine without me, people still go for parties, the sun still sets and rises(surprise surprise) and India was fine till I came along, and will get on just jolly without me, what with the 2 Billion people etc etc. And now I'm in Australia.

The Travel Bug is supposed to liberate you, not make you feel like you're losing touch with any sort of ground level activity right?

I am a visitor, even to the people who should be "my people".

The Easter Bunny's missing

"What's the big deal, Easter isn't really celebrated that much in Sri Lanka" L said when I said that I wished I was home for Easter. That's true, it's not really that big a deal. In fact we kind of dread the 3-hour masses, the Way of Cross in the hot Colombo sun at (forgive the pun) ungodly hours and the general ritual nature of it all. Most of the time, Malli will end up asking " How long will mas be?" at least 6 times, resulting in everyone being bugged.

But Easter is such a family thing. Well OK so is Christmas, and I don't even want to THINK of having to spend Christmas here, but Easter is on a smaller scale, so I guess that makes it more intimate. The 4 of us go for mass, and Mum will come open the door at whatever strange hour we return. We gossip about the sermon/priest/strange attire of the fat lady in the front pews singing in the loud voice. We have a leisurely dinner. On Alleluia Saturday (Which is technically our Easter mass) we watch the Blessing of the fire-my favourite ritual-and renew our baptismal vows together. Then afterwards, generally mill around wishing everyone. And on Sunday, we invite the heathens read as my mom's family :P for yummy Easter lunch. It's actually no big deal.

But today as mass was finishing and I was surrounded, yes, by friends, there was something missing. Somehow there are some things which you always connect with family and when family is not around-you can be totally in control of your independent destiny-you feel the hole like some fat rip in the fabric of your soul, no matter how pseudo-spiritual that sounds.

So, I want to go home!