Alternative power sources..

ahmm.

So they picked a moment when I had 10 data sheets and 2 presentations opened to give us a power cut. i am not sure who i am blaming but i need to blame someone. The government as useless as they are. I can think of one person i would have blamed this on , for the sake of it, who would have given me his most patient smile and just continue being his usual self.
After sitting in my 4X3 cubicle in the dim light that came through the office windows, I got sick of it. I was tired and hungry and what was left unsaved kind of made me want to throw up. So I came home. there were no candles. we don;t have candles in this place. the status of being dysfunctional has arrived upon new heights. so i took out our most beloved powerful search light and was so very happy coz it was just like having power. Except that u had to carry it every where u went. i have been using this for the past 2 weeks since the bathroom lights burnt out , short circuited or something..and too lazy to go use the downstairs bathroom, I happen to use this magnificent light in the bathroom. didn't cross my mind to call the electrician. i think i am rather fond of this light. It is heavy and can come in handy if needed for safety measures against intimidating siblings. anyhow , i got my dinner , took out the daily paper, and sat down to eat. A power cut u say?? Bah !!! who cares. I have all the light I need !!! I gloated with my dog, who seemed a little apprehensive. Maybe she knew it was for no good.

All of a sudden , my light, my oh so beautiful , red search light,. the powerful search light, went off. poof . just like that. i stared at it. and switched it back on. 5 seconds. poof. on agian. poof. on. poof. on . poof.
(i must admit N73 is a life Saver). I had used the flash light to go to the bathroom but had not recharged it !!! why do I have to do everything around here myself!!!!

At the end of the day it was my lap top that saved me. The one I am sitting at right now and typing away..the lap top gave away enough light to illuminate my room to make my bed and had enough power to watch half a movie. And maybe type out a document.

I sadly have no conclusion for this story. Maybe that I need to store some candles. Or call the electrician. OR recharge the rechargeable batteries. Don’t swear at the lap top . It can still come in handy at a power cut. I dunno..

borderless sucks !!

Here I am sitting in what i like to call now , my workstation which is one those weird tables and a computer and loads of files scattered around it, there's a pot of little artificial flowers on it and it is a Saturday. My life, I can safely say, has acquired a state of sheer stupidity. and what's more? I don't even feel that i am here anymore. I have been here before haven;t I? why in the name of God do i choose to live in sheer ignorance, even when my dear B.I and Exon subtly points things out to me but i go on being in denial , conveniently pushing away those voices at the back of my head. Until reality slaps me right across the face . now reddened and embarrassed about wrong choices, I remain rather deflated.

It was established that there are no borders. the mere suggestion scared the hell out of me. NO BORDERS !!???? how do u propose to live that way??? it is preposterous. i should have known a Storm was on its way. I like borders. It defines where we are. It defines where YOU are. it defines the lines where i am supposed to stop and not cross , unless given permission. I like them . they are good things to have.

and then it hits. U don't define borders either when you don;t care at all OR when you care too much. so which is it? will i ever find out??Do i want to??? Is ignoranc still bliss???

In the end of all the drama, there was not a border , but a sheer shell that i crawled back in to. A friendship that was ruined by choice.

close this chapter and just not look back. that's the only way. and have unwavering broders. always.

nice little pickle

it is a pickle. Predicted but not necessarily paid attention to, but it is now here. the Malay pickle.

There's love. and then there isn't. there;s me. absolutely turned off by the whole complexity of the pickle itself but fascinated nevertheless. what would a person as bored as i am would do when she gets a little bit of a pickle? wonder which little green chillie i will toss away this time. i do not want to. pickels are great things to have. and enjoy. a drama queen as me would thrive on these things. i am going to direct a movie, the main role of the drama queen obviosly played by me. and i am going to call it the pickle. or i have someone more suitable. what do u say, B.I? I have done this before. had this kind of pickle. you yourself have told me during one of our over analysing expeditions at Bars. but it;s not the same.thats the thing with a malay pickle. it takes you by great surprise.

Im way too egoistic for this to bother me. A pickle i would say , is a pickle is a pickle . regardless of the complexity or my fascniation with them.

Oh heck i will enjoy it while it lasts.

when I cut my hair short

So i cut my hair short..at this point in time i can gladly vouch for myself that i am not the least attached to my hair..I dont think i would colour it..i woudn;t go as far as saying ever, but I am not considering it..but i could just chop it off without resentment..

This is what i told my hair dresser ( He had hair clips on his sleeves and that was rather amusing for some odd reason )

Me : " cut it short"

Him : " how short is short?"

Me : " Dont really care. this is what i need. hide my too broad a forehead . minimize the sqaure look of my face and keep it simple. "

Him : " which part of ur face seem square to u?"

Me: "never mind. Just cut my hair"

**********************************

So that was that. I walked home, and i could feel the eveing breeze on my neck while it ruffled my hair..I felt free....

but this is what i got when i came to work the following day.

annoying collegue No 1 : "ooooh u copied me !!!!!"

Me (to myself ) : "what? u have loooooong straigtened hair and i have really short natural hair"

A.C nO 2 : " too messy. u need to cut some off from the back"

A.C No 1 : "no no, from the front "

Really nice colleague No 1 : "oooh sachi, u look nice. i love the messy look. its goood"

A.C No 2 : "comb it tomorrow properly harida??"

R.N C Colleague No 1 : "whatever men. u look nice"

A.C No 3: "u know what happened when .....went and got a hair cut? im thinking the same thing about u."

Me : "DUDE !! whatever.."

A.C No 4 : "u used to look like such a child. simple and innocent. now u look matured. really matured."

My boss : "oh hi sachintha...u look different... r u wearing a new top??? i knew it !!!!"

My bosses boss : "hi sachintha, how was the holiday. ok i;ll see u later"

Me to myself : why cant ppl be more like her??"

Receptionist : "hair cut?? is it the bob cut???"

A.C no 4 :"well what i really wanted to say is that now u look sexy. not a good thing. not one bit"

A. C no 5 : "u know, all men want a woman with long hair...why u cut urs??"

Me : "bless the woman who will go out ( with a narrow minded b******d like ) u.

****************************************************
Bless all of my annoying colleagues too. No offense but these are the ppl who come to work in white shirts and plain pants when we can wear, anything , anything at all, to work ( obviosuly with some decency , and if u want otherwise, u could try that too )

Im loving my new hair.

morning person

open my bleary eyes, leave those warm sheets, stop that ridiculous phone alarm, try to stand up straight and tell my sleepy self that today , only today, I will do this and tomorrow I will sleep till noon . look around , groan at my siblings feet visible under their blankets and stumble in to the kitchen. stop on the staircase to bend to pet the dog who has been awake since 5.30 am. I say, this dog has got to stop following my father !! brr its cold..where;s the freaking tea spoon, do i have to open my both eyes to look for it ?? 2 1/2 tea spoon fulls of sugar in to my mug. 1/2 a spoon full on to the kitchen counter. same fate for milk powder..try to replace the lid of the sugar carton with the flask of tea. why in the name of God would it not close !!!!! clank clink clunk clunk..wha??? all spoons on the floor..whatever..im just gonna walk off. oh Hi Thatta.

In tribute to "The best is yet to come"

The best is always simple. In the hustle and bustle of all complications of day to day life, it is a simple art of not treading on each others' toes, the simple conversation that takes you round and round and ends up making you laugh, and making me wanting to tear my hair off , the simple hot chocolate, the tea and the toast. We are simply the best coz we have mastered the art , the art of detachement , or the art of undetachment. It is the simple fact that accepting another human being for who they are that makes you the best.(as long as they dont get on ur nerves ).me? "i have the simplest of tastes. i am always satisfied with the best"

the art of letting go

Close the damned door on their face ( literally if it comes to that ) , walk off in a huff , and never look back.

the first time they come back, take them back.

the second time, after hitting on ur own head with a sledgehammer, repeat the sequence on the first line.

Stalker

"i want my own stalker ..how do i get one who isn;t married or is suffering from a mental illness ? how do i get that tall dark handsome stalker?? "



that was my yesterdays' thought.



By today, my wish has come true. only with a few alterations.



My subject definitely suffers from some kind of mental illness. pills were produced to ascertain the fact. Tall and handsome we agreed, the subject couldn't help. and seemed keen on the subject of stalking.

The stalker is judjemental if not more than i am , scrutinized my every move, psycho analysed me, and more importantly made me laugh.



what can i say? my stalker seems like a decent sort.

Drama Queen ( Reposted )

I attract the occasional freak. erm...ok, maybe I attract the the frequent freak. I like 'em all. except when they get all hung up on me. that aside, i think the freaks are what /who take me through time. most of these freaks are my friends. or whatever it is that we are. and there are strangers too. like the guy who used to send me poems about how flat and ugly i am but how he still he stll looooves me. he was a head shorter than i am and called himself "Romeo". and there was a colleague, a lady colleague..never mind. and there was once a guy who brough me his personal file so that i could make a well informed decision - to fall in love with him..hahaha. and there was an ex boyfriend of a friend who at the time they were going out was a perfect "i dont know who u r - so dont mess with me " person and when they broke up started calling me. weird. and then there was my rebound guy. what a freak !!!! thought he was God;s gift to women kind. he lived in some kind of half romantic , half tragedy movie. he was being a jerk at 27 coz his A/L time sweet heart broke his heart . i thought it was the lousiest excuse anyone could ever present. Then there is the guy who is studying for a so called respectable profession who claims to be in love with me. he repeats every sentence. twice or thrice over. and calls back to explain his text messages...he knows the middle names of my family members !!!! arghhhhhhh..HELP !!!!and there is this...

ok ok , so im done bitching here. i just seem to attract some kind of freak on a weekly basis and it keeps me happy. I like a good drama. more importantly i am positive i am the bigger freak here. judgemental creep of a drama queen.

Drive away in to the sun set..

I wanna drive away in to the sunset...with my driving instructor. Because of him i get up at 5.15 am , when the mornings are still night and the world seems asleep except for insomniac people like my father and its cold and misty but i get up so that i could get my driving lesson. ..

my sister says im smitten !!! I do obsess over the hair clip i found in the back seat. U know , hair clips are worn by women in my part of the world..unless he has a thing for hair clips himself..and i do worry about what he thinks when i dont make it to class. I miss the smell of the seats when there are holidays..and i hated them when they closed for a week for avurudhu. i say, a WEEK ??? !!!! no one wants kind of leave do they??? not him, he doesn't.

He hardly ever says anything..if he does say anything, it would be something like "dont panic. just start the car now" , when i suddenly get the car stopped in the middle of morning traffic and other drivers around me honk their anger away..we have developed a way of communication..nods for approval, palm up to move forward. and other hand gestures to stop . smile to say i did right to press clutch when breaking. grin to say i shifted the gears right. stare to say i didn;t use signals.

When i am done with my lesson i give the wheel away to my sister , i sit behind him and look at his curly hair or wonder what after shave he uses..

He never raises his voice as opposed to the popular instructor. He never looses his patience. After the 5th day of my unsuccessful reversing routine, he told me to take it on my own and not to panic. and he smiled all throughout afterwards.

His faith in me is comforting.

I just want to get my licsence. I wanna drive away in to the sun set . with my driving instructor.

of silver hair and stories..

"i tell you my child, grey hair comes in handy. very very useful" said my 78 year old grand ma with an amused smile on her wrinkled face, while pulling at locks of her snow white crowning glory. I could see that she was about to give me a story...on the rare days i get to spend some time with ther , we would sit at the kitchen table, with the kitchen door open so that the wind comes through and the sun light filters through the white curtains with cherry prints on them..she would pour me tea and offer me a cookie and then give me her stories..i would smile and think a certain statement that my sister thought i should not include here..

so she would go on.."see child, i m short. infact, just the other day my doctor told me that i have lost 2 inches in height".. i would laugh out loud and would find that she is absolutley serious. and then she would give me the story of the bus ride, where she was going to get in to a bus and realised the first step was way too high for her to climb and the man behind her just listend to her talking to her self and just lifted her and kept her on the step and dissapeared even before she could turn around. she never takes trishaws. or cabs. she has been a modest English teacher and grand father whom i fondly call "seeya" a lawyer, more of humantarians than anything else. they have always walked. taken the bus. such great people and yet so humble.

then she would tell me about the time when she was young and newly married , how both of them would just borrow a friend;s motor bike and roam around the contry. or how they took young children with no one to look after them , under their wing , and help them through their lives . or about how she threatend never to talk to someone who was rude to everyone else around her.

Then she would squint at me and ask in the most nonchalant manner "how old are you now"?? haha. i know what;s coming. where is the man i am going to get married to. at which point i give her my account of stories , of men i have known , of how insanely frivoulous today;s men are. and she would tell me. "im sure not all are like that". her faith at 78 seems much much stronger than mine , and i am only 23. then she says , 'Look for someone who accepts you. " that;s all that counts. i agree whole heartedly.

I spent last weekend with her. seeya was in bed, coz he is ill and achchi and I had a blast. i regretted the few hours i had to go away for classes and all that..i live for her stories. and her warmth and strength. she humbles me and shows me that the materials of this world are absolutley worthless infront of strong relationships. that this place could still be good. that i should have faith. no matter what. and that i may oneday find the kind of love that achchi and seeya share.

Hats off to silver hair and grandma;s stories.

i am what i am

"i am what i am" is such a flat sentence. its a justification for our lowly qualities, that we can not help ourselves, that we are what we are and therefore, too bad if we get on ur nerves. It says "back off" without saying so much. its a wall. a sign. a statement that leaves no room for argument which will make the other party go.."but..but..i mean.." so on and so forth.

so i've been wondering what "I" am. i mean , i have a name. duh. i have a CV too. its like a life time of me in 2 pages. which isn;t all that bad, i mean it sometimes lands me the weirdest of jobs. but other than that i am not too fond of it. i have come across so many people who do all that they do in their life times for the sake of a nice CV. i can never hide my dissapointment. but let me leave that aside. this is about what "I" am.

so . what am i really. apart from the name and the CV? i also have a highly disfunctional family, so it makes me a daughter, a sister and mostly a middle child. i have friends, so that makes me an acquaintance too. whatever that is.

but some say i am sarcastic. and most say i am cold. some who are really nice poeple say that i am far from "cold". i am also judgemental. and cynical. and eccentric. slightly insane. overly analysing. lazy. abnoxious. and oh so hot. u see, i am also highly vain.

the fact of the matter is, not at all that i am what i am . but that i could be whatever i want to be. thats right. i can be what.ever. i. want. to be.

with people who take me for my freaky self, i am giving and warm and can swear i could do anything for them. for poeple who have known me all my life but still has a hard time putting up with my cynicism of the world, i am distant. forfamily, i am dutiful. sarcasm will meet sarcasm. kindness will be returned, warmth will be shared, insanity will be celebarted.

therefore, i am over joyed to find out that i am not only what i am,(which is whatever i want to be). but whatever it is that i want to be. u try putting poeple in to little boxes of classifications, it is hardly likely to matter. they can be whatever it is that they want to be too. i guess that makes all of us what we are?

Spices Oh spices

what is with us Sri Lankans !!! we are wrecks when we eat. no wonder we have not been able to master the elegance the British manages when they eat ..Our food makes us sweat as if we had been running a mile..tears pour down our faces, beads of sweat gather on our foreheads, even the tips of our fingers, ( yes we use our fingers to eat, and we believe, the messier it is the tastier..) ok so that;s not entirely true..i can almost see my mother frowning over a messy plate of hot food .but the point is we love them. thats why we love the kottu, and the rotti with a chilie paste kind of thing which is called lunu miris ( "miris" means chillies btw ) and chinese rolls. i tell ya, these type of chinese rolls with a filling which consists of any left over curries fried with lots of chilie powder , pepper and onions are only conusmed in Sri Lanka. we will not have it any other way !!!! it creeps us out to think that other posibilities of making this is actually avialable. The chinese would run a thousand miles if they tasted OUR chinese rice.
i have grown to eat and love any food that looks as if it has been added so much of spices..different kinds, and i tell ya, i will not settle for any kind of gourmet food !!! i hope i will marry a Sri Lankan chef !!!!! i will look after him as long as he does the cooking. see, i am not that good at it, saying it actually makes me feel as if i am over estimating myself. but . the point is, i wanna eat as much of hot spicy food as possibly before i die..i am still young u see, but who knows what will happen tomorrow. and in the mean time, i wanna eat !!! hot. spicy, yummu food that will make tears run down my cheeks ..obviosuly not becasue i am emotional about my food.. . oh btw, i would like to meet that chef too !!!