Cut and paste: Traffic Wardens Funeral

As the coffin was being lowered into the ground at a Traffic Warden's funeral, a voice from inside screams

"I'm not dead, I'm not dead. Let me out!"

The Vicar smiles, leans forward sucking air through his teeth and mutters

"Too fucking late pal, the paperwork's already done"

The quaint little “Peddlars Café”

To drive all the way to Galle to enjoy a cup of coffee and a sandwich would seem quite extreme to some. But trust me it is worth it if you are going to be doing so at the Peddlars Café down Peddlars street situated in the Galle Fort.

I have done so especially when the company is right and I know at least two others who do the same.  This is one of the quaintest little cafes I have had the privilege of coming across. I loved the décor and the ambience. And the sandwich we ordered was absolutely heavenly. I was expecting something mediocre – since this was Galle after all and not Colombo – but it was exceptional.  Even the cappuccino we tasted was awesome. I loved the taste of the frothed milk on top which was nice and creamy and seemed like a dessert. In fact the second time I went there I sprinkled sugar over the froth and ate it, as one would eat curd.  Apparently the secret for such great tasting froth is that they only use Ambewala milk. Well good for them and good for me because I ended up having my second cappuccino as well. While I have not tasted their entire menu I have heard only good things about what’s on offer. And yes just writing about it makes me want to visit it once more.

Stepping into the Colombo Courtyard.

I am a sucker for great design especially well laid out living spaces. And the Colombo Court Yard building has been fluttering its eye lashes at me enticingly every time I pass it. And I pass it virtually every day. The little glimpses of what I got whetted my appetite to step into it one of these days. But I never had a reason to do so till it came in the form of entertaining my friends M and M at a place which is outside the regular haunts.

It was one of the best decisions of my life to step into this place.  It is a design addicts dream come true. Each square foot of this place has been planned and designed with utmost care and impeccable taste.  Admittedly the spaces are quite small but it is amazing what they have done with the place and it is an absolute treat to soak in the atmosphere.

We experienced friendly service right from the moment we stepped out of our vehicle. I had entered through the exit but the valet parking guys – yes they have a valet parking service which is better than what I have experienced at 5 star hotels - were pretty decent about it and did not make a fuss.

We started out at the cloud café which is an open air space on the roof top with an extreme minimalistic and zen like theme. But it was a humid night and threatening to rain so we moved to the air-conditioned loft lounge bar. It is a lovely cozy place and once again Kudos to the guys who did the interiors. Breathtakingly amazing and damn comfy – that’s how I would describe the place.  It had nice music most of the time  (till they started playing an entire album of old Michael Jackson hits which was not cool but it is better than the choconut lounge which was playing auld lang syne when I visited it in May) though it was a little too loud. But the waiter was kind enough to switch off the speaker on our end so we could hear ourselves speak.  The drinks were reasonably priced and the mojito M had was decent though full of sugar. The only dish we ordered was pretty good.  Actually everything was good till some uncouth rich people came and started ordering champagne and behaving like pigs and got the waiters to turn on all the speakers and increase the volume of the Michal Jackson song which was playing and dancing around like absolute jackasses. We thought we should take the cue from the song which was playing and “Beat it” as their actions were intruding into our comfort zone so to speak. And that is exactly what we did. 

Overall we had a great experience. I believe we enjoyed ourselves as much as we would have had at seven degrees but did not have to pay the 5 star prices. The fact that the place was not teeming with people was an added advantage. I definitely see myself going there once more.  Most definitely.

If you check out the place take a moment to appreciate some of the great art work which is absolutely awesome.

Discovering Khalil Gibran!

"When you part from your friend, you grieve not;

For that which you love most in him

may be clearer in his absence,

as the mountain to the climber

is clearer from the plain."

 Khalil Gibran

I had a “oh fuck” moment as I read these words for the very first time. It was as if someone was imprinting it into my soul with a red hot branding iron, except that the sensation was amazingly wonderful.

A few minutes later I was feeling elated and sad at the same time.

Sad, because it seems that I had wasted half my life without discovering the wonderful writings of Khalil Gibran. Elated that at least the rest of my life would be spent immersed in the beauty of his words and wisdom.

SH had told me about Khalil Gibran at least a year back. Specially of his book called “The Prophet” but I never thought that the reading experience would be this amazing and shunned it aside.  In fact I can remember thumbing through a greatest works  compilation of Khalil Gibran at the Odel book shop and putting it back on the shelf once more. An action I regret to this day.

But a couple of months ago I was going through a lot of angst.  A lot of bitterness and self doubt was welling up inside me. RC who knew of what was going on walked into my office and thrust her own personal copy of “The Prophet” into my hand and said “I found a lot of comfort in his words when I was having issues. I hope you do too; sadly I can’t let you keep it as this was a gift”.

And since then I have been infatuated… no addicted to Khalil Gibran.

I have never found a man who can say such great things with such humble simplicity. His words mesmerized me so much that I had to probe further. And what I found out mesmerized me even more.

Khalil Gibran was born in Lebanon but raised in the USA. He is both a writer and an artist. His book the philosopher is the second largest selling book in the world next to the bible. That the university of Maryland has dedicated and entire faculty to study his work. There is an interesting article on him here as well as here if you would like to find out more details about him. But right now I want to share with you one of my most favorite passages from “The Prophet” talking about goodness.

"And one of the elders of the city said, 

Speak to us of Good and Evil.

And he answered:

Of the good in you I can speak, 

but not of the evil.

For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst?

Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, 

and when it thirsts it drinks even of dead waters.

You are good when you are one with yourself.

Yet when you are not one with yourself you are not evil.

For a divided house is not a den of thieves;

it is only a divided house.

And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles 

yet sink not to the bottom.

You are good when you strive to give of yourself.

Yet you are not evil when you seek gain for yourself.

For when you strive for gain 

you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast.

Surely the fruit cannot say to the root,

 "Be like me, ripe and full and ever giving of your abundance."

For the fruit giving is a need, 

as receiving is a need to the root.

You are good when you are fully awake in your speech,

Yet you are not evil when you sleep while your tongue staggers without purpose.

And even stumbling speech may strengthen a weak tongue.

You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.

Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.

Even those who limp go not backward.

But you who are strong and swift, 

see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness.

You are good in countless ways, 

and you are not evil when you are not good,

You are only loitering and sluggard.

Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles.

In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness:

and that longing is in all of you.

But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, 

carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest.

And in others it is a flat stream

that loses itself in angles and bends 

and lingers before it reaches the shore.

But let not him who longs much

say to him who longs little, 

"Wherefore are you slow and halting?"

For the truly good ask not the naked, 

"Where is your garment?" 

nor the houseless,

"What has befallen your house?"

Is it not beautiful? I have never come across writing as profound as this.

Namal Babata Kiyanawa

This is a story told by a Sri Lankan airlines cabin crew member to one of my close friends. It is too good not to be shared.

Apparently thanks to the current regime in power the Sri Lankan airlines flight crew now have large amounts of young stewards and stewardesses from the Hambantota district joining the carders as juniors. Not only are they under qualified for this job it also seems that they all come with a chip on their shoulders. Most seniors are wary of ordering the juniors around from Hambantota to carry out tasks as there have been instances where they have refused to do so saying “Namal Babata Kiyanawa”.  In fact one junior stewardess has been boasting to a senior that if she (the senior) wants a transfer that she (the junior stewardess) could arrange it by talking to Namal, Baba.

What a sad state of affairs this is. 

Copy and Paste: A Beautiful Inspirational story

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love.

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said,
"Richness, can you take me with you?"
Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!"
"I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you."
"Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come, Love, I will take you." It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. Realizing how much was owed the elder,

Love asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who Helped me?"
"It was Time," Knowledge answered.
"Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?"
Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is." —

Yes I admit sometimes I can be a sentimental fool but I don't make any apologies for it.

Copy and Paste: Brave Words by Namini Wijedsa

 Keynote speech delivered by journalist Namini Wijedasa at the Annual General Meeting of the Citizens Movement for Good Governance today, held in the auditorium of the Organisation of Professional Associations, Colombo.                                                                  
  Members of the Citizens Movement for Good Governance and friends, This is an honour indeed. And yet, I am more than a little daunted at having to speak before an audience whose experience and memories stretch so back into the past. When Dr. Visvalingam invited me to address you, I  was delighted. But as the days flew by, I became more and more uncertain  of what I could say to people who already knew so much more than I do. And who have lived much longer than I have.                               

So I stand before you as an ordinary journalist who makes no pretense about the depth and extent of my knowledge or insight. I present to you my views based on what I have learnt of my country through the exercise of my profession.                                                         

It is the practice today that when somebody presents a view contrary to that which is held by the government and its henchmen, that person and his opinions are loudly denigrated. He must have an agenda, they say. And the word ‘agenda’ is almost always used negatively.                       

If you criticise the way foreign relations are conducted, you’re being bribed by the West. If you speak about human rights abuses, you are a grasping NGO agent. Either way, you are embroiled in a certain conspiracy to topple the government. If you oppose the mass ordination of Buddhist children because you think it is not the healthiest way to alleviate poverty or to protect the Buddha Sasana, you’re part of an international religious plot to destroy  Buddhism in Sri Lanka. If you eat bread or noodles, you’re a slave to those evil multinational companies—despite the fact that the person making this claim is a noodle himself.                         If you criticise your rulers, you’re just downright ungrateful because  they won the war—and that should suffice for the next several decades. Indeed, “if you are not with us, you are against us”. Still. Three years after the war ended. This bigotry and intolerance is untenable. It is wholly detrimental to the free thought, free speech and the advancement of society. Why in this  day and age is a government afraid of a diversity of views? Why do they feel so threatened by detractors and critics that they feel it necessary to classify them as conspirators or traitors?                             

 As journalists, we have to avoid all these labels. And yet, you could still be sold out by colleagues who have aligned themselves so closely with this government that they are irreversibly indebted to them. If there are stooges in all other sectors, so it is also with the media. 

Carrots are certainly more powerful than the stick. This is not a phenomenon unique to the prevailing regime. Ranil Wickremesinghe had media lackeys who treated as heretics those colleagues who did not blindly follow the leader. So did Chandrika Kumaratunga and no doubt those before her. I may be mistaken but it feels so much worse now. If there is one change I would like to see in the media industry, it is that we do not let our political preferences erode relations among ourselves to the extent that we are unable to tolerate each other in a room.             I have an agenda. That agenda is set by me, based on certain principles, and is not financed by anybody. It comes from wanting a better life for my children. It comes from having made a choice to stay in Sri Lanka when leaving was an attractive option. As with any journalist, I have had access to many policy and decision makers over the years. I have observed how politicians think, how they work and the difference between the two. I have been able to compare how    systems, and the attitudes of those that run them, have changed. I have witnessed half-baked attempts to introduce some semblance of independence to our public institutions through the 17th amendment. Then I saw how easily, and flippantly, even these efforts were reversed through the  passing of the 18th amendment. Having covered the story from the day the law was passed, I will be the first to admit that the 17th amendment was flawed. I remember writing that the law was riddled with more holes than a string-hopper. But it could have been improved for the greater benefit of this country’s citizens and its public officials. Instead, the opposite was done. Our  public institutions have lost every semblance of independence and are completely and wholly controlled by the executive. And this includes the judiciary.                                                 When the judiciary depends on the executive for survival and career advancement, and the executive is of the type that expects complete subservience, what hope does this country have?     I don’t have to go into detail here about just how politicised our   institutions are. My audience knows it. What is despairing is that it appears to be a bottomless pit. You keep falling, and falling, and falling. The level of submission required is suffocating and even extends to the arts, particularly to the world of film. Since the war ended, Sri Lankans have been allowed to view the conflict only through the eyes of  the Sinhalese or through the eyes of the military. Their story of loss, grief and victory must be told. But what of the  others who died, who suffered, who grieve? What about the Tamils? What about the LTTE fighters, many of whom even the government says were conscripted by force? They have a story to tell too. If we don’t tell it a foreigner will. And then we won’t like it. Then we will whine about it. And somebody out there will join the growing ranks of traitor, of  conspirator, of enemy.                                                   

I remember visiting a Tiger cemetery once, during the ceasefire. It was  for a story. Back then we were encouraged to report these things. A mother and her daughter were laying flowers out on a grave. The woman said her son was buried there. He had been 16 at the time of his death. I  saw the same pain in her eyes that I have seen in the eyes of other mothers, Sinhalese mothers, Muslim mothers. Sorrow has no ethnicity, no bias, no race or political preference. So why do we give it these attributes?                                                               

Everyone is doing politics everywhere now. The end result is that we don’t get our services. It’s politics at the municipal council, at the police station, in schools, universities and in the health sector. Sportsmen do politics, actors do politics, soldiers, even very senior ones, do politics on behalf of politicians. Politics, politics, everywhere. To prep up a regime, or to topple it. Nothing in between, where the people are. Then there is this business of how people have come to accept the unacceptable. Some months ago, I walked to the top of our lane with our five-year-old daughter, Anshula. We were heading to the little bookshop near Jubilee Post junction. When we got there, there was police tape around the shop and policemen outside. So we turned back.  I asked some three-wheeler drivers parked at the stand nearby what had happened. As my daughter listened open-mouthed, they described how some men had come the previous evening—not too late—shoved the owner of the bookshop into the inevitable white van and taken him away. They had guns these drivers said, with great relish. Don’t know where they took him.  “Oh well,” I told my daughter, “let’s come some other time”. “Will they find that uncle?” she asked. “I don’t know darling,” I replied, noncommittally. “But there are other bookshops.”     

It was only at night that it hit me. My reaction was not normal. It was not normal for me to have accepted the abduction of this man. I don’t know if guns were actually used, but it was also not normal for me to have accepted that a bunch of guys could turn up with guns at the local   

bookshop. What had happened to me?                                       

But this how it goes. We Sri Lankans are getting so used to things being done wrongly that we forget what the right way is. Does it make me an NGO  puppet when I say all this? A traitor? A conspirator? A misguided fool? A plant of the West? An anti-Rajapaksa ingrate? Of course. To some people. But I’m none of those things to me. And that is what matters.             

So… how do we reverse the rot? Heck, I don’t know. If the whole distinguished lot of you failed to get it done over the years, what chance do I have of prescribing or enforcing solutions? Most times, the situation seems so hopeless that the worst option seems to be the best  option: That is, if you can’t beat them, join them.

But there has to be a way. And here is a little of what I figured out through my interactions as a journalist. First and foremost, we must fight on behalf of institutions and systems while separating personalities and politicians from the same. Politicians, regardless of their parties, have taken ownership of institutions and systems that do not belong to them. The public must bear on politicians to run them in a  manner that benefits us.                                                 

So often, since the war ended, we have heard that we must be grateful to  the government. Yes, we must. But this notion of gratitude has been taken too far. Today, we are expected to be grateful for everything, particularly services that are our entitlement. And those services, too, 

are delivered so grudgingly, so lackadaisically and so incompetently that it makes you cringe. This is a country that can’t conduct an advanced level examination without a breakdown. Need we look further? I say that now, three years after the military victory, it is time to stop focusing solely on gratitude. It is time to demand good governance. The regime must be grateful to the people for tolerating its inefficiency thus far. All the international conspiracies in the world    can’t mask the fact that things are not right here.                       

So how does the public know that they are being poorly governed, that politicisation is eating way at the very heart of our systems? The message must go to the grassroots, to the members of local government and provincial councils, of village societies and women’s groups. Teachers, clergy, business people, professionals, agricultural workers, everyone, must be made aware of their rights and entitlements. People must be educated about how proper systems work because we are so entrenched in what we have now that we cannot see or remember a better time.           

As a journalist, I have found the public eager to learn about alternatives. I recall a discussion I had with a group of law students at the Colombo High Court last November. It was a vibrant dialogue about the importance of separating the judiciary from the executive. It seemed all the more relevant because we were waiting for the judgement in Sarath Fonseka’s ‘white flag’ case. They, and I, went away more enlightened than when we came in. And I wondered whether the legal education system was today independent enough for similar debates to take place at student level. My guess is, no. When the message goes to the grassroots, stuff happens. Changes occur. We may not see them now, but things start moving. Politicians get nervous and feel more accountable. If the voices circulate only in the capitals, nothing will change. I had a scheduled interview with a senior VIP government minister recently. I was to meet him at 2 pm. At 1.30 pm, his aide called me and said the minister would be delayed because he was in meetings at Anuradhapura. Two o’clock came and went. I waited because the interview was an important one. We have waited a lifetime for Chandrika to get to places so this was nothing.                          At 3.30 pm, I called the aide. So sorry miss, he said. The minister was still at meetings and hasn’t even had his lunch yet. What’s the problem, I asked. “Big problem, miss,” he said. “All the local politicians are fighting with him about so many things and he can’t get away. He’s been stuck since morning.” The minister did not return till late that day. He had been given a tough time by the people that matter.          

This pattern needs to be repeated. People from the bottom have to get their rulers to listen. They have to cut through the rhetoric about international and local conspiracies and get to the root of the problem. 

But the objective, in my personal view, should not be to topple governments. Any fool can see that the alternatives are not viable. And if the systems remain the same what’s the point in changing a government  anyway? Besides, that objective will defeat the purpose. The fight will   

once again be about personalities and not about systems.  I don’t know whether we can achieve this. I do know that the job can’t be left to journalists alone or to civil society alone or to anybody else alone. Everyone who has the knowledge and the exposure must encourage  people at the grassroots to demand more from our rulers. Governing, after all, isn’t the sole prerogative or business of governments, and of particular political parties. The agenda has to be set by us. If we can’t get the people we elected to do their job, then we are responsible for  the rot we so despise.          

I had to share this because I think this was a great speech. Something I have not heard in a long time.  I do not know who this lady is but I am giving her a standing ovation shouting Bravo! Bravo!