Heaven

I had written a long post detailing the events that occurred exactly one year ago today, explaining how I ended up playing and singing this song for a certain someone, and what happened next. I tried to describe the magic without making it sound too corny and/or mushy, but after reading it for the 40 millionth time I had to accept the fact that I had failed miserably. And also that I had to move on.


So here's the song, and let me just say: what a night. Happy Anniversary Sunshine. This will be the last post I write about you, I promise. GBU.

G


*Click here if you want to download the song direct without watching the video!

Storm

By popular request (well, not really), here is my rendition of one of my new favourite's from Lifehouse. The song itself isn't new, but I just got my hands on the "Who We Are" album so I hadn't heard it before. It's a beautiful song, that has a lot more meaning than oh-I-wish-some-girl-was-here, if you really listen to it. I relate to it all too well.


I almost didn't put this up because I found a live video of it here and it just blew me away! You HAVE to check it out, if you haven't heard the song before.

Hope you like my version of it. This is "Storm" by Lifehouse.


Click here to download the audio if the video bores you!

Late Night Bonus Post: "Magic" At The Magic Game

Stole this from the "NBA on Yahoo! Sports" page. Just in case you are too lazy to click on a link, I'm going to add it here as well. Yes it's that good!

Wed May 27, 2009 1:55 pm EDT

Magic's 7-year-old good luck charm works again

By J.E. Skeets

It's only fitting the Orlando Magic have found the "magic formula" to pull within one game of advancing to their first NBA Finals since 1995: trot out an adorable little girl to sing the national anthem.

Poof! Magic win!

Gina Marie Incandela — a talented 7-year-old who as a toddler had a speech disorder that made it impossible for her to form words — once again belted out the anthem before Game 4 Tuesday night, and low and Hedo, Orlando won 116-114 in overtime. Again.

The Magic are now 4-0 in the postseason when little Gina sings.

"It just makes peoples' heart feel good and they like it when I sing," she recently told Shannon Owens of the Orlando Sentinel. "And it makes the Magic win every single time."

Her singing talent was discovered after her parents enrolled her in a special needs program at the University of Central Florida where instructors used music to help coax her to talk. Shortly there after she took a liking to Leanne Rimes, and when she heard Rimes' rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner," she mastered the tune.

Here she is performing before Game 3 vs. the Boston Celtics last round. Chills.

We Could Be Heroes - But Would We?

Someone tried to attack my family last night.


It was around 8pm, and I was having a shower just after getting back from the gym. Our home has a lower level which serves as my dad's office and has a separate entrance that opens onto the driveway, and my bathroom is very close by. My dad was working late when suddenly, I heard some commotion, and my dad was shouting and calling out to my brother, asking if Mom was outside the house or inside. I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs and more commotion upstairs in the main house. After a few minutes I got out, dried off and headed upstairs myself to find the family all worked up. Apparently, while my dad was working there was a loud noise at the entrance to the office, and when my dad looked up he could see that someone was furiously trying to turn the handle and force the door open. He quickly put the outside light on and headed upstairs to check on everyone else.


We searched the area outside the office but it was much too dark to make out where the intruder had come from or where he had escaped to. There are several gaps in the low rear fence and we suspect that he may have sneaked in from there as the front is well lit.


This was no random incident though; we have been stuck in a drawn out court case over a large plot of land that has been going on for more than 10 years now, and the other parties in the case have very strong underworld connections. We have already seen them display their influence, with a fair share of 'missing documents' and false testimonies from bribed locals, yet we finally had a minor breakthrough yesterday with the judge issuing a ruling to the cops telling them to take the main culprit into custody for questioning. Within 12 hours of that ruling, we have 'visitors' at our door - quite a coincidence, no doubt. I have no idea what the intruder had planned on doing had that door been unlocked, but my dad says that acid throwing is quite common with the kind of people we were dealing with.


It was a rather strange and unnerving experience to say the least; and after we had finally settled down and locked our doors and gates securely, I stopped to think about what I would have done differently had I not been in the shower when this happened. Would I have tried to open the door to confront the man? Would I have grabbed a weapon and chased him? Or would I have simply stood there and done nothing, choosing instead to peer out the windows with bated breath while the rest of the family huddled together?


Every now and then, you meet guys that act like they know what they're doing, even when they don't. They have this know-it-all look on their face, and they mouth off on every topic under the sun, telling us how they would do it and how they would change things. It's all very amusing, and usually when I bump into those people I just smile and sit silently as they try to convince me how suave and slick they would be if their girlfriend caught them cheating, or if they were ever in a fight, or in a plane crash. Because I know that in reality, the boy has probably never been in a fist fight in his life, is probably afraid to fly, and instead of throwing back some clever one-liner at his angry girlfriend, is most likely going to be licking her feet like the pet chihuahua he really is.


But what would happen if one of those hypothetical situations you so meticulously described during an evening out with your friends comes to pass? Would you really try to outsmart a thief that has you at knife point? Or single-handedly chase off a group of roadside perverts that were leering at a girl? Would you really risk your life for the lives of others? Would I?


I wonder.

Too Smart For My Own Good

Of all the flaws I can lay claim to, I never thought I'd end up ruing the fact that my intelligence was too high!


Yes, you read right: I have come to the painful conclusion that I'm just too smart for my own good. Allow me to elaborate.


I have been fortunate enough to experience the joys of education to its fullest potential, especially during my college years, where my ardent love for academics was so evident that my lecturers seemed intent on making me repeat several papers every semester.


(To those that actually didn't understand that - I failed. A lot. Often. Always.)


It wasn't really my fault, aside from the fact that I spent more time hitting the courts than hitting the books. Apparently extra-curricular excellence doesn't make the exams any easier, and it definitely doesn't help when you're short of attendance! In class I was a permanent member of the 'middle benchers' club. Yes, we middle bencher's aren't smart enough to sit in the front and not stoned enough to sit in the back. We're the ones that LOOK intelligent and can be seen furiously scribbling in our notebooks during class with an 'attentive' look plastered across our faces, nodding wisely whenever the lecturer's gaze drifts in our general direction. Such a sham. If there was a test on shadiness I'd have aced it.


Yet, despite my shambolic academic record, I have never been labelled a 'dunce'. In fact, my lecturers always seemed to think I was some form of 'genius-in-hiding' that was always on the verge of bursting forth in brilliance. Somewhat like Guns-N-Roses' "Chinese Democracy", only that didn't really burst forth so much as just 'bust'. A frightening analogy, come to think of it.


This can be mildly annoying. Just last weekend, we had a test for my weekend course. After the previous class, some of my classmates were copying the 'probable questions' from each other, and I sort of hovered in the area just to see how much I didn't know. One of the girls decided to strike up a conversation with me, and asked me what I had studied in India. "Engineering", I said, as deadpan as I could manage. Her eyes slightly widened, and she asked "Which field?" in almost hushed tones. By now I knew there was no sense hiding anymore, so I told her. "Electrical and Electronics". She continued staring, and then sort of rolled her eyes and never uttered another word.


I've become rather used to this reaction now. While I was still a student, telling my seniors that I was in the dreaded E/E branch was usually met with laughter and sympathy, as it was one of the toughest and most unforgiving streams of engineering. To tell someone that you actually graduated in that field and then complain about defining "personality" and "job satisfaction" is like training for a triathlon and complaining about the distance from your front door to the post box.


Fast forward to the last Saturday, and I turn up for my exam with 4 hours of sleep and 5 hours of rushed studying (instead of crib notes) under my belt. I was nervous, and understandably so - I had my fake reputation at stake. As is often the case, I was cursing myself for opening my books only 12 hours before the exam and wishing that I had just one hour more to read that last chapter one more time at least once. I never learn.


Fast forward to after the exam, and I'm the first one to finish. We had to answer 10 out of 12 questions, and I am fairly convinced I have nailed at least 7 and a half of them. The girl that spoke to me last week comes out, and I ask her how it was. "Okay, I think. What about you? 100/100? [giggle] You are a genius no? [giggle]"


Great. And here I was planning on celebrating if I scored above 60%. Being a nerd, even a fake one, just sucks the joy out of everything!


From now on I'm just going to head to class like this:

I Have Three Questions

Question 1: Why are we waving the Buddhist flag?


I am truly ecstatic that the war that has ravaged our country for almost three decades is finally over. True, I too have my doubts about the elaborate celebrations, but I will put that down to the cynic in me. We being Sri Lankans, nothing makes us happier than a national holiday in the middle of the week, so I'm fine with that as well. His Excellency The President (who some people say should be addressed as the 'king of kings' apparently) made a decent speech, and his "there will be no more minority" bit was quite clever, especially coming from a Lankan politician.

But as I went for my evening jog, I noticed that alongside the national flag, houses and buildings were flying the multi-coloured buddhist flag, and that really disturbs me. Surely this is not a victory for the Buddhists, nor is this a victory of the Sinhalese over the Tamils. The very fact that we're putting up the Buddhist flag at a time when we're supposed to be uniting as a community just goes to show that perhaps people don't really understand what has happened this week.

Then I see a truck pass by, with the national flag pasted on the hood backwards, and my doubts are confirmed. Patriots indeed.


Question 2: Are women really this stupid?


I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the box for my mom's new hair iron. Firstly because I didn't even know she had one, and secondly because of what was written on the box. Under the 'features' heading, there was a small label with "Advanced Steam Technology To Enhance Straightening", and just below that in tiny letters - "Steam is not visible".

Huh?!

Continue down, and the next feature states that this iron "Uses Advanced Ionic Technology To Seal In Moisture And yada yada". And just below that in tiny letters - yes, you guessed it - "Ions are not visible".

Dig deeper into the instruction manual and there's a detailed section explaining that ions cannot be seen by the naked eye, and that if you do not see anything being emitted from the hair iron, you can rest assured that these magical invisible particles are doing their job and making your hair oh so "lustrous".

The next time I meet a girl with unnaturally straight hair, I'll make sure I steer the conversation away from science, since it's obvious that only girls that fail chemistry use hair irons. I suppose it's safe to assume that our fellow blogger Pseudorandom probably has a head full of healthy curls then.



Question 3: Where do these people come from?


And by 'these people' I mean the sparkling minds that make up my weekend HR class. As I think I mentioned before, when I joined these classes I was secretly hoping that I would get to meet some interesting people and, oh I don't know, 'talk' to them! However, after my male classmate walked into the women's loo, I kind of gave up on that little dream. Last weekend pretty much sealed it though. Let me explain:


Lecturer: .... and that is what we call a 'mission statement'. In a way it is the Ten Commandments of an organisation.

Students: [scribble scribble]

Lecturer: Clear?

Students: [silence]

Lecturer: You all know what the ten commandments are right?

Students: [silence]

Me: [wakes up from semi-daze]

Lecturer: No one has even heard of the ten commandments??

Students: [silence]

Me: [apologises to God for the ignorance of my classmates]

Lecturer: [slightly pissed] OH-kay then, homework for all of you, go on the internet and find out what they are and tell me.

Students: Sir? Ten Commands....?


Lecturer: Commandments. COMMANDMENTS!!

Best I Ever Had

I don't usually like putting up two vids so close together, especially since I know how much my truly awesome and encouraging friend Jerry hates them. But as is usually the case with the songs I upload, I simply enjoy performing them and I can't wait to get them out there.


This song brings back so many memories of 2001 and 2002. I remember the first time I heard it was on Channel V, and they played the live version of this video. This also reminds me of one of my friends from college, who had their album along with loads of awesome alternative music. It was thanks to him that I got to listen to a lot of great bands, including Lifehouse, Nine Days, Third Eye Blind, Filter and many more.


Thanks to Al for indirectly suggesting this song! This is "Best I Ever Had" by Vertical Horizon.I hope you all enjoy it.


Click here to download the song instead.

Kitchen Chaos: Part 2

I've already chronicled the ridic conversations we tend to have during meal times, so just thought I'd throw another one in there.


/Scene: Breakfast, a few hours before Bro's O/L Biology exam/


Me: Ah wait, I remember that eye diagram so clearly! Lens, Cornea, Iris, Retina, Optic nerve.. Hey, what was that fluid in the eye called?

Bro: Errm...

Me: ....?!

Bro: Errrm.. aqueous...

Me: !!!

Mom: Aah.. err.. go read that now, ok? [nervous laughter]

Me: ...!!!!

Mom: SO..! Oh you should have seen my biology journals from college. They were just... brilliant...

Me: Uh-huh.

Mom: They should be in a MUSEUM! They were so good.

Me: Yea, Dad used to label your drawings right?

Mom: Oh I never drew anything. There was this guy.. He used to play bass..

Me [shocked]: .... Oh so you were one of those girls huh? Getting boys to do everything for you...?

Mom: He was a fantastic artist....

Me: Ah.

Mom: It's not my fault! That teacher, Lalitha! She was a demon! How much she used to shout and abuse me and tear my journals!

Me: Mmhmm..

Mom: No wonder she died of cancer....

Me:......!!!!!




Gotta love family!

Never Again

He looks up at her.


She sits two steps above him. She looks beautiful; she always does to him. The street light casts her face in just enough shadow to hide the tears, and since he is facing her, he imagines it does the opposite for his own.


He looks down again, replaying the conversation they just had. He has heard the words before, but this was the first time he was listening to her say it. It hurt, but the truth always hurts. On top of that, he is angry at himself. He should be the one making the tough decisions, he should be the one to bear that burden, not her. Instead, she was breaking down in front of his eyes, saying what needed to be said, and he hated himself for doing that to her.


He wants to sit next to her, to comfort her, to wipe those tears away, to whisper in her ear and soothe her, but she doesn't let him. She wants to see his face, to read his expressions. He understands; at a time like this, words only get in the way.


He has only one question left, though he already knows the answer. Still, while they have always understood each other without the need for words, there are times when he insists that they are spoken.


"Do you.. do you wish we never met? I mean.. do you regret meeting me in the first place...?"


She doesn't say a word


Instead, she shakes her head with such conviction and force, they leave no room for doubt in his mind. Such conviction, they bring fresh tears to her eyes, and she buries her face in her hands and cries, her muted sobs tearing his heart to pieces.


He curses himself, and swears never to doubt her again, never to question her feelings, never to be the reason for her tears.


Never again.



* I know this post sounds rather dramatic and negative, but I assure it isn't. Just retelling an event that occurred last week while I was in India, because it meant a lot to me.

Everything Changes

This is the part where I insert some deep musing about change and consequence, but really, don't we all know about that?


Here's what I was messing around with during my short hiatus from the blogosphere. It's a beautiful song, and I hope I do it justice. This is "Everything Changes" by Staind.


Enjoy!


Click here to download the song instead.

The Darkside Does Weddings!

It took us nearly 90 minutes to get to the homecoming of one of my parents' friend's son, and it was a total waste of time. Why? Because I was bored out of my relatively easily tickled brain. Yes, I know that out of sheer desperation I have recently taken to Twitter to provide me with some entertainment; so if an actual social gathering with 'real people' was boring to me, that just proves my point even further!


However, not one to cry over spilt milk (unless of course it's on my g-Pod) I decided to pause and ponder about this whole 'Wedding' nonsense.


Contrary to popular belief, I am all in favour of marriage. I would love to get married. There, I said it! Would I want to get married now? Absolutely not! But sure, the wedding bells will definitely be tolling for me within the next 5 years, so I suppose it isn't a complete waste of time to spare a few thoughts to how it would actually go. So this one is for the unlucky girl that, in the near or distant future, sniffed pepper during dinner, said "I DO!" instead of "ACHOO!" among a cloud of witnesses and had to settle for a man with a slight obsession with the darkness.


1. We are not getting married underwater.


Or at the beach. Or in a hotel. Or in an empty swimming pool. Or while sky diving. I'm sorry, but as free thinking as I am capable of being, I draw the line at sensationalising the 'big day'. Surely the fact that you have managed to get me into this tuxedo and convince my loving but crazy relatives to sit together in a room at the same time should be sensational enough. Besides, aren't I enough for you baby? Okay don't answer that, I'll be waiting near the altar, do join me when you've finished having 'second thoughts'. Again.


2. No you're gym instructor cannot come to the wedding.


Look, I know you want to share the joy of this momentous - okay, you know what I mean - with the whole world, but do they all have to come to the wedding? What happened to the small quiet weddings, with just the people that actually know us? I understand all the politics between families and how we HAVE to invite certain people because it's "the right thing to do", but I really believe that people who know your body mass index better than they know YOU need not be taking up place in the pews.

Besides, if you're recurring 'second thoughts' surface again, well, let's just say he's a bit too buff for my liking.


3. The best man must be in my pocket.

No not literally! But if one of us does not have solid blackmail material against the 'best man', there is no way I am letting him step up to a microphone in front of my family and friends, thank you very much. While I have no issues at all with being made fun of, sordid stories of the groom's failed romantic endeavours are not what I would call appropriate at a wedding.

Best Man: Oh, [brides name] thinks she's lucky, but she was only the seventh pick you know. Hyuk hyuk hyuk!

Me (to wifey): Excuse me, honey. [takes out cell phone, dials reporter friend of major newspaper] Oh hi. Remember those photos of that drunk dude pissing on a cop car last Saturday night? You want his full name and address? What's that? No I don't know a Mr. Bibras Nawa, why do you ask....?



4. There will be no ceremony for the home coming.

Look, we're shelling out a lot for the wedding, for the reception, all that food, the honeymoon and that weird Gypsy Kings wannabe band that keeps playing this. After all that is said and done, do we have to throw a party when we get back as well? Yes, we're back home. Yes, our real lives begin now. Yes we have to go back to our boring jobs. Yes, now we are supposed to start fighting. Yes, now we have to keep convincing people that we're "not ready" for kids. Yes, the Maldives was absolutely divine and it was the best honeymoon in the history of time. Ahem.

Really, what's there to celebrate??


5. No kids in the ceremony.

Okay fine, kids can COME for the wedding, but in no way are we having them doing anything during the ceremony! I know it's cute having a little girl in some pink frilly outfit throwing flowers in your wake, or some kid in a miniature tuxedo handing the rings to the priest, but do you really think I would entrust children with anything of importance on the big day?! When have kids EVER been known to do as they are told?? That's just asking for trouble, and I'm stressed out as it is trying to keep you from running off with Mr. Yoga over there.

Yes, I hate kids, did you not know this? No, I won't hate our kids, because they will be awesome.

And if you think about it, I'm actually sparing the kids the shame and embarrassment of having to perform in front of a large crowd like as if they were trained monkeys in cute costumes.



Of course, the above points are all purely theoretical. By the time the big day finally comes around, the 'wifey' will be pulling my strings with such skill and precision that I won't even realise what I've agreed to till it's too late.


And by "too late", I mean when I'm standing on some beach somewhere, with sand between my toes and a slightly weak smile on my lips as my pink frilly bride makes her way towards me surrounded by a parade of snot nosed kids blowing bubbles, while I silently wonder why "Here Comes The Bride" rhymes rather suspiciously with "There Goes My Pride".

The Young And The Jobless

I have often complained about the youth of today, with they're jaded outlook on life and their fascination with anime cartoons (seriously, what the heck?!). They have terrible taste in clothes, music, and I'm not even going to start about education. When it comes to school, they're either dropping out of it or shooting it up.

But thanks to my latest epiphany (which I blogged about here) I decided that perhaps I was being too harsh. I am a strong believer in giving people the benefit of the doubt, so I thought why not go the extra mile and give these little maggots the benefit of the doubt too? (And if any of said 'maggots' are reading this, I hope you know I mean it in the best possible way.) After all, if my teenage years were not forever shrouded in a haze of self-induced amnesia, I might recall perhaps a few incidents where I acted in a sort of 'maggot-ish' way too.

So here I am with my brand new outlook on life, feeling like I'm protecting the ozone or feeding the homeless (or something). It is a strange feeling, not being condescending to the mag - ahem, I mean, the bast - ahem, that is, the li'l runts ('runts' is a step up, ok?). Thankfully though, this didn't last long.


You may or may not know this, but Kandy is a bit - how shall I put this - 'behind the times' (I shall now give you a few seconds to recover from this startling revelation). To those that refuse to believe this outrageous statement, just recently we opened our FIRST mall. Alright, I'll give you a few days to recover from that little bomb. Yes, we now have the Kandy City Centre, or KCC for our abbreviation-addicted masses. All in all it does look rather impressive with its all glass interiors and the 'kandyan-styling' yada yada, but like all things in Kandy it is taking time in picking up, and at the moment the only thing worth visiting is Keels and the a/c offices of the People's Bank.


So I was more than a little surprised to walk in one evening with the family to find a large group of teenagers seated on the ground near one of the blocked off escalators (that goes to a floor with nothing on it). It was all a bit freaky to be honest: it reminded me of a scene from some B-grade horror flick I saw where the characters stumble onto some ghost town filled with people that just stare out of their windows before hurriedly shutting them with a bang. "What the heck are they doing??", I wondered. I mean, there are no benches or ledges for people to sit on in KCC, so they were all just sitting on the ground. All they needed was a banner saying "JUSTICE FOR STAIRWELLS" and I'd have assumed they were protesting against the use of escalators.


As I stood outside observing these huddled masses, I came to the conclusion that they weren't doing anything at all. They were just 'hanging out'.


Yes, I know how that statement must have come across. I am no alien, and even on the darkside it is perfectly acceptable to lounge about doing absolutely nothing. If I remember right, most of my semesters in college were spent in similar fashion, before the final month of exams of course. However, whenever I 'hung out', I was always with a group and we were always doing something, even if it was as trivial as sipping coffee at Coffee Day or chatting at the courts. Even in Colombo, there are loads of popular hangouts like Majestic City, ODEL e.t.c., but people are rarely ever staring into space with drool dripping down the corner of their mouths. For crying out loud, go window shopping or something! Don't just sit and stare at your reflections in the empty shop windows!


Freaked me out completely. I guess it just goes to show the extent to which a lack of purpose and complete utter joblessness can drive you to.


The thing is, a few more months of my idle state and you'll probably find ME there....!

This Too Shall Pass

His eyes fly open.


Slowly his vision adjusts to the darkness, and the room is filled with a light blue hue from his digital clock. He glances at it. 3am.


Matchbox Twenty starts playing in his head. He silently curses his mental jukebox.

He slowly drops his legs over the bed and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. He isn't used to having 4 hours of sleep under his belt at 3am. Oh how times have changed.


Next he notices the heat; the stifling heat that is easily winning the war with his ancient wall fan. He takes of his shirt as the sweat trickles down his spine.


Suddenly he is reminded of a time long ago, when he was back in college. He had returned after failing yet again, only this time he was alone; no batchmates, no friends. Just an unwanted room on the top floor of the hostel, a real furnace during the summer heat, surrounded by strangers who looked at him with a questioning glance. He remembers returning to his room late at night, after hours of aimless wandering, only to be welcomed by a blast of pent up hot air as he swings the door open. He remembers trying every trick of cooling the room, including dumping water on the floor and sprinkling his mattress with water. He remembers his frustration at sleeping in a bed that was now not only soaked in sweat but with water as well.


He smiles in the darkness. Six months. He survived six months of that torture, studying alone, struggling to sleep in the early hours of the morning, ordering food at ridiculous hours of the night simply to keep himself occupied. Six months of screaming at the walls and wondering when he would finally lose his mind.



He thinks to himself, 'compared to that, this is nothing'. And he's not just talking about the heat.


This too shall pass.


He notices a spider crawling across the floor in front of him. He looks for something to swat it with, and unthinkingly, apologises to Makuluwo in advance.


Again, he smiles in the pale blue light of those digital digits.



The Darkside is back.