Tarantella or Marriage?

December 22, 2008 at 5:47 am (Attempts at Poetry)

tarantella-posters

I dance

To his drums

In circles

Slow at times

Then spinning

Out of control

Onlookers clap

He bows

And I smile

They mistake

The blood

On my feet

For rose petals

On our stage

 

The Tarantella is a dance originated in southern Italy during the sixteenth century. It is believed that this dance evolved from the supposed therapy used to cure victims of a Tarantula bite. Although there are many variations of the Tarantella dance, the music is always fast and the dance frenzied.  The unique feature about this dance is that instead of simply complementing each other, the dancer and the musician constantly try to upstage each other by tiring the other one out. The dancer strives to keep dancing longer while the musician tries to play faster.

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Recipe for Pretending You Dont Love Him

December 17, 2008 at 6:21 pm (Nonsense)

Ingredients

§     One pair of averted eyes

§     Handful of thorny comments

§     A deaf ear

§     Few missed calls

§     Pinch of jealousy

§     One sheet of indifference

§     Cold goodbye

§     Text messages at room temperature

§     ½ bottle of Vodka

§     Fake smile for garnishing

 

Method

Prepare the missed calls in advance and leave to stew for half a day.

Then carefully mix averted eyes with the correct measure of deaf ear.

Add the thorny comments one by one.

Liberally sprinkle the pinch of jealousy and place on low heat to simmer all evening.

Once the hissing and bubbling starts pour the vodka in.

Cover with indifference and let it stand for a few hours. 

Finally, top it with a well chilled goodbye, garnish with the fake smile and serve with lukewarm text messages.

 

Enjoy your delicious heartbreak!!!

 

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Choices

December 17, 2008 at 6:43 am (Nonsense)

Life is strange.

You ask for chocolate ice cream but you are given vanilla.

So you take the vanilla because you think chocolate is not on the menu.

Then just as you finish paying the bill, they tell you that chocolate is available after all.

But you paid good money for that scoop of vanilla and you already licked it.

So what do you do?

Throw caution to the wind, buy the chocolate too and have both guilt-free?

Chuck the vanilla even though you paid for it and eat only the chocolate?

Or resign yourself to the vanilla but all the way home you wish that you had waited for the chocolate?

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Smells like Sri Lanka

December 16, 2008 at 1:45 am (Nonsense)

When I was 9, my cousins who were born and bred in the US came to visit. We were driving through Maradana one day when one of them daintily crinkled her nose and drawled “Sri Lanka stiiinks”. My little patriotic heart bristled and I almost punched the “American” nangi in her face. Don’t think I ever really forgave her.

For a few months this year I had to take a tuk-tuk to work. During the 15 minute ride every morning, I would usually turn up the volume on my iPod and close my eyes. But after a few days I realized that there was one sense that I simply could not shut down. Smell.  And I started paying attention to the splendid and not so splendid, but intrinsically Sri Lankan scents that wafted my way.  What an olfactic cocktail it was!

Eau d’ cologne & talcum – Passing the neighborhood pre-school. I believe the little people are marinated overnight in a combination of the above.

Jasmine – Real ones off a tree. Beats the cheap air freshener kind hands down.

Kiri hodi/ karavala/ fish (mirisata) – Passing a house where I can see smoke coming out of the kitchen as they cook over a wood stove. My favorite bit actually. Kiri hodi is such a comforting smell methinks.

Cow dung and garbage. Near a corner dump which is the cow’s equivalent of Coffee Stop I assume. Well the poor cows do have to poo all the time considering all that they eat is garbage – literally.

Fresh bread – Passing a bakery. I always like to imagine that it’s the Roast Paan I smell.

Wood – The timber stores. I can smell fresh wood shavings.

Warm, putrid smell of a huge canal. Like rotten eggs.

The strong clinical smell of disinfectant – Passing a state-owned hospital.

Petrol fumes and engine oil – Petrol Shed. I like a long whiff of this too. Yes I’m weird.

Steamy smell of Kola-Kenda. – Near a little Petti kade

That’s only just some of it. I haven’t been to any country where I can experience such a myriad of scents within a span of just 15 minutes. Clean and fresh it may not be always, but rich and interesting it definitely is. And sure kicks American ass where you can walk down the street and only smell the Starbucks.

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So this is Christmas…

December 12, 2008 at 1:07 pm (Slice of My Life)

Here’s me losing my tag virginity to Gutter! So this is Christmas and what have I done?

·         Lived on my own for the first time in my life

·         Worked my ass off

·         Took a couple of months off work to travel halfway around the world

·         Lost a friend but found some new ones who I would prefer not to lose

·         Realized how therapeutic drinking alone could be. Only wine, but still

·         Read more books than I had in the last 4 years

·         Contemplated a change of career

·         Discovered magical things

·         Loved

·         Hated

·         Mastered the art of letting go. I think

But if I had tried to explain 2008 in one word I would have said “lukewarm”. Or maybe 2007 was too damn good it just can’t be topped. But there’s still December to go.

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Cloud 9?

December 9, 2008 at 10:18 pm (Slice of My Life)

 

I’m happy. Really really happy. Sunflowers and blue skies happy. Hot chocolate and huggy pillows happy. Smurf happy.

 

And I have no clue why.

 

Nothing in particular has happened or is anticipated to induce this kind of joy.  It’s like a strange illness. How did I just wake up on a Monday morning (mother of all bad mornings!!!) and find myself so happy? And how did this happy feeling actually make it to Tuesday?

 

See, the thing is, I haven’t exactly been little miss sunshine lately. And I have tried so hard to perk up and get out of the slump I hit a while ago. So now it baffles me how with no effort or reason I feel so damn good.

 

Alcohol? Not since Saturday. Christmas spirit? Nah. Coffee interlude with two of my favorite bloggers? Likely. Sugar high from eating one too many sweets brought by a flower in the gutter? Maybe. All that second-hand road rage yesterday purged me of my angst? Possibly.

 

Two wise women told me yesterday that I shouldn’t question it. So here I am floating in my imaginary bubble of sunshine and daydreams. La la la…

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Flavors

December 8, 2008 at 5:49 am (Attempts at Poetry)

icecream

Gone will be these plain vanilla days

When you come back with your chocolate dreams

Smooth talk me in your butterscotch tones

Tempt me with your sherbet smiles

Sing to me those strawberry tunes

Smother me whole with your cigarette fumes

Graze me with your honey slick hands

Keep me up with your coffee laced glance

Laugh about those cherry tart women

Make me jealous with your words like lemon

Go at dawn with your marshmallow kiss

And leave me only your marmalade riddles

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Colors of Christmas

December 5, 2008 at 3:45 am (Attempts at Poetry)

76932965_43edd4ebef_b

Red for my love

Green for your eyes

And blue for how I feel

Whenever you are gone

Gold for your heart

Silver for our stars

And white for Christmases

That we’ll never have

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10 Decembers

December 2, 2008 at 3:10 am (Slice of My Life)

10 years ago in December I skipped a class for the first time and went for a movie with my friends and a boy I was madly in love with. Consumed by guilt, I couldn’t look my parents in the eye for weeks. I even remember what I wore and what he wore. And what song was playing on the radio in his car as we left.

9 years ago in December my grandfather went in for a minor surgery and he never came home. I was devastated. The same boy I mentioned above had moved to the US but he was on the phone with me for 8 hours at a time trying to comfort me. It was this month that I also had my first glimpse of someone I would fall in love with eventually.

8 years ago in December that same boy was due back from the states for his first holiday since he left 1 ½ years ago and my whole life revolved around his visit. He came back on the 11th morning and we met just 2 hours later. We spent every second together and we slow danced to a starship song on New Years Eve. That month ended far too soon.

7 years ago in December my grandmother passed away just before New Year’s Eve. We had just broken up but the same boy held me for hours trying to comfort me. He was here on holiday and we spent every second together, fighting mostly, about why we can’t get back together. “Soon” we agreed, soon we would get back together when I was ready move there.

6 years ago in December he was here on holiday again but I was with someone else. We didn’t spend every second together that month. And that’s the last time he ever came to SL. Said there was nothing left for him here when I was with someone else. But with the strain of a long distance relationship off me, I was blissfully happy for the first time in years.

5 years ago in December I was all grown up. I had just started work. Took my new boy home and introduced him to my parents. I went on my first date with parental approval minus a curfew. It was fun to watch your father make small talk with the boy he would have shot one year before.

4 years ago in December the Tsunami came. I had planned to be in Hikka that weekend but was forced to stay back because we were shifting houses. Needless to say it was the bleakest December of all.

3 years ago in December I was plagued by a bad tooth. Oh such misery! I was sobbing for most part of that month. I missed all the Christmas festivities but I spent New Year’s Eve with a bunch of friends who have now become almost family.

2 years ago in December I was taking a break from work in between jobs. I put up my very first Christmas tree and made proper Christmas dinner. Life was good. Friends were a plenty.  That whole month was one big party.

1 year ago in December I was on holiday in the US. Freezing in the New York winter, wishing I was back home. I visited the boy I wrote about at the beginning. It was good to see him after 5 long years.  With 12 years behind us, we were as close as ever. But spending time with him, I realized how much we had both changed and how wise it was to let go when we did. Most of all though, I could not wait to come back to the people I loved.

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