Delilah Says

We don’t need

Fairy lights

Or violins sweet

No ball gowns, no hats

Or turquoise plumes.

There’s you

Then there’s me

And a roomful of people.

Dancing in triangles

Moving in circles

There’s love there’s wine

And torches we carry.

That mask is yours

This secret, mine

You pretend, I lie

Night after night

The masquerade

Must go on.

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*title inspired by Absolut Masquerade

At 3 o’ clock in the morning, I tire of guessing-games and careful pretenses. Of the hours in my day, this must be the most honest of all. When pride becomes redundant and giving myself away is of no consequence, there’s no need for denial nor acknowledgment. Everything is simple and devoid of analysis. At 3 o’ clock in the morning nothing else matters but that I love you. Regardless.

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So far it’s been a ‘waaah waaah’ christmas for me. But being miserable is not too bad when you’ve got music like this to complement your mood.

It’s either that or “Aney you’ve put on a bit no”

This morning a former colleague walked into office and she was met with a barrage of the above.

You really must hand it to Sri Lankans with their hawk-eyed ability to discern fluctuation of weight by the milligram. We seem to thrive on these clever little observations and announcing the same in pseudo-concerned but almost gleeful tones. And for some unknown reason these sentences always begin with “aney” as if it will soften the blow or make you seem less insensitive.

I have an aunt who used torment me with “aney she’s all skin and bones” accompanied by worried sighs and warnings of anorexia until I put on some weight. After which she promptly changed her tune to “now be careful about your weight missy”. And then she wonders why I never visit.

If someone has lost or gained weight, chances are that they already know it too well. There is really no necessity to make a statement about it unless the change either way is complimentary.

In most instances I’m sure there is no malice intended. Sometimes it’s the Sri Lankan way of making small talk and sometimes it might even be out of genuine concern, but the fact remains that it will make another person feel uncomfortable and unattractive.

The way I see it, if you did not give birth to the person in question, then you have no god-given responsibility to warn them about their physical appearance.

Discuss the weather. So much safer and it won’t ruin someone’s day.

After much dithering I finally got around to watching ‘Love in the Time of Cholera’ and was predictably disappointed. I tend to avoid the movie if I already like the book. But if I can’t quite make up my mind I would watch the movie for better elucidation as was the case with this.

Anyone who has read Gabriel Garcia Marquez will know that his books are more about the journey than the destination.  The descriptions are so vivid and the analogies apt. He has the unfailing ability to make me conjure imagery in my mind of places I have never heard of and landscapes I have never seen. The people you meet in his books are essentially flawed and almost pathetic, but so very human. I remember the feeling of my whole being withering as I read ‘No one Writes to the Colonel’ and blushing many times over as I read ‘Memories of My Melancholy Whores’. In his writing you rarely find a strategic plot, a shocking twist or nail-biting anticipation. Yet he weaves me in, making me one with his story and its characters.

The movie however left a bland taste in my mouth with its failure to capture the magic of Gabo’s writing. Javier Bardem as Florentino Ariza was somewhat convincing although as he started to look rather grotesque as he aged. But Fermina was downright disappointing. I expected a strong fiery performance instead of the sullen woman she appeared to be in the movie.  The more subtle nuances of the book were completely lost and even the significance of cholera was barely touched upon.

I do realize that it must be difficult to transform a book of such character into mere two hours of film, but somehow it seemed as if they didn’t even try hard enough.

This morning I bumped into an old friend. And with him a whole string of memories. But most of all I keep remembering fragments of our conversations.

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He: You look just like a kitten. I’d expect you to start purring any moment now

She: Go away

He: Now now, stop hissing

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He: How about a walk in the rain?

She: only if you buy me plain tea from Raheemas

He: Only if you tell me one of your nonsensical stories

She: Mata baaaa

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He: (at the waiter) Boss, can we have it in a purple tea cup?

She: You know me too well

He: I know too well the consequences if you don’t get your silly tea cup

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 She: How far can we walk?

He: As far as you want

She: What if your father sees?

He: He won’t mind, he likes you

She: But I don’t like him

He: Not many people do

She: I’m not scared of him though

He: Of course not brave little girl

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He: Come study with me

She: Cant

He: Why?

She: I want to fail

He: You won’t. Not if I can help it.

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She: I’m going to skip the next class. Cover for me if I get into trouble?

He: No I wont. Stay.

She: I’ll give you biscuit pudding

He: Ok done.

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She: I’ll be so bored during the holidays

He: You’ll just miss the plain tea

She: True.

He: Dont worry. I’ll give you lots of books to read

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He: You have really nice hair

She: I’m going to chop it all off

He: Don’t!

She: Wait and see, next semester I’ll be bald

He: But I’m sure you’ll still be pretty

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He: My mother would just love you

She: So can I come visit you then?

He: When?

She: Next time you go back home can I come with you?

He: Come. But I go by bus.

She: Oh.

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She: I don’t think the librarian likes me

He: She might if you stop talking so much

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Today, 8 years later.

He: Oh my god…

(Awkward pause. He leans over to kiss and decides against it)

She: Hi. So…congratulations.

(Small talk. Blah blah blah…)

He: It was good to see you

She: And you.

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Funny and rather sad how you lose touch with people who were so much a part of you and what you have ultimately become.

Wicked is when

wanting to be bad

feels good

really really good.

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Also, this song seems to be stuck in my head for no reason.

Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song
Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can’t tempt us
With their lies
I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high
So won’t you try to come
Come away with me and we’ll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I’ll never stop loving you
And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I’m safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me

Your recent actions remind me of an article published in a Reader’s Digest back in ‘93  titled ” Why smart people do dumb things”

It was about how people who have achieved great things make one stupid mistake that cancels out all the rest.

I use the term ‘great things’ rather loosely, because I believe the greatness of an achievement is to a large extent defined by the means through which it was come by. And I think we can all agree that yours were questionable.

So while I might be expected to choose the lesser of two evils, the choice aside, thats still a LOT of evil we are talking about.

Also, forgive me but whining isnt the most attractive quality in a man who claims to be a fearless warrior.

I was tagged by thekillromeoproject on this ‘letter to your 16 year old self’ business started by RD.

Well here goes…

Dear 16 year old Delilah,

So you must be busy running around with that floppy haired boy you met last year huh? The one you swore to love forever and ever. Well, there’s something about him that I always wanted to ask you.

What the hell were you thinking???!!! Seriously.

Still I’m sure you’d like to know where it’s going, so let me tell you. He will over the years develop a fake American accent, barely scrape through college and will literally bore you to tears. 6 years from now you will leave him and never look back. I could tell you to walk away now and save yourself the heartache, but I’m not going to because it won’t kill you.

As for love, you will find it. More than once.  

You’d be surprised to hear that the friends you would give your life for at 16 will be lucky to get a phone call from you in time. They will be scattered all over the world and you will make new friends, which is not a bad thing at all.

Parents will be parents. And yours will never change. Enjoy all your escapades. What they don’t know won’t hurt.  I can assure you that you will not get caught. If ever you do, just use your head or your brother and you will surely get away with murder. But please don’t sneak out and go to a batch party on the 9^th of September 1999 because you father will turn up on the dance floor and say ‘Get in the car. Now’. So not cool.

Education is good. Try and get it while your parents are paying for it. It’s not like you have anything better to do anyway except hang on the phone with that boy (and we both know how that turns out).

Oh and you know that dream job of yours? It will trap you, drain you and drive you crazy. But it will also become your career, your passion, your life blood. So all in all, good choice.

Now, could you please stop staring in the mirror, loathing your non-existent ass because you will eventually fill those jeans with a vengeance. Also, that cup size 30A will soon be a distant memory.

I know you are at that curious age so yeah, sex is a good thing but it really is true, the first time does hurt like hell. After that it’s as good as chocolate. Well almost.

I also feel compelled to tell you that your mother lied, periods don’t get any easier. But Sri Lanka will discover Whisper with wings.

One thing that won’t change over time is your taste in music and believe it or not you will actually meet someone who listens to the same stuff. Your precious walkman will be replaced by a tiny magic box called an iPod and you should keep an eye out for a fascinating thing called YouTube where you can find almost any music video. But then the internet is a whole other kettle of fish.

Speaking of fish, no you never will develop a liking for it but would you believe me if I told you that someday you will pay extravagantly to eat raw fish?

I simply must tell you something about alcohol. Football world cup 2006, stay as far away from the vodka as you can. You will learn the hard way that Bacardi makes you ill and Tequila makes you emotional. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.

You know how all these safety advertisements and your parents tell you to wear your seatbelt? Wear it. It might be the only thing saving you from a ten foot long steel pipe that comes through the windshield.  

So yeah, that’s about it. I’m afraid I haven’t done a lot of growing up since I was 16 and there aren’t too many things I would want you to change because I quite liked my life the way it was.

Cheers!

And I hereby tag

The Gutterflower

Love God Jack Point