December News, Flu's, And Birthday Blues

Greetings from the Darkside!


While most have been rejoicing over my recent leave of absence, there are a few (apparently) that are rather mystified by my sudden departure from blogging, as well as my recent tweets about hospitals and birthdays. For you handful, an explanation is due.


As most of you know, I have recently had the good fortune to find employment. It has been a rather hectic experience, filled with last minute participations in fund raisers, press conferences and factory tours. After about 3 weeks of this, we were finally transferred to Pannala to begin our 4 months of training.


While our mentors and superiors continuously stressed the importance of hard work at our positions, they never failed to mention the 'mad fun' we would have at Pannala, likening it to a revisit to our college days, filled with partying and no-holds-barred lifestyle. This was all a bit strange to me, since not only am I the lamest party animal on the face of the earth, but I didn't consider my college years to be a period of my life without responsibilities. So while most of my batch were salivating at the thought of continuous partying, I was not that enthused.


Perhaps I should have been though, because within 48 hours of landing in Pannala, I developed a 103C fever, collapsed in my lodging and was taken home at 3am the following day to be admitted in the hospital. The verdict was viral flu, along with dehydration and some other infection that the doctor couldn't quite diagnose. What followed was probably one of the worst experiences of my life: ten days of saline, constant fever, total weakness, vomiting plus being transferred between not two but three hospitals! Finally I was landed in the Kandy General Hospital, and let me just say that there were several nights I wished that I was connected to some form of life-support system, so that I could just unplug the blasted thing and end my misery. Dramatic? Perhaps. True? Completely. When I say that the toilet consisted of a rusted metal chair with a hole in it placed on top of a broken commode, well - go figure.


Yet, after ten days of an almost liquid-only diet and medication that seemed to be destroying my body in its attempt to fix it, finally my fever left me. The doctor, who made a rather poor show of pretending to know what he was doing with me, wasted no time in discharging me and washing his hands off me as soon as possible. Not that I was complaining; finally I was home! However, after two days of extreme exhaustion we realised all was not well and went to another doctor for some tests. Those tests came back showing that my kidneys had been affected by the virus, and that if I didn't get complete bed rest immediately I would have kidney failure. "Ah.", I said, and promptly found myself re-admitted in yet another hospital.


Luckily my 4th stint in hospital wasn't nearly as bad as my General Hospital experience, as my main complaint this time around was that of boredom. After several more blood and urine tests, it was decided that I would be discharged on the 23rd - my birthday. Now, I hardly attach much importance to such things as birthdays and other family traditions, but even I was rather depressed at the thought of spending my birthday in a hospital. Unfortunately, the doctor was adamant ("He has had 24 other birthdays at home no? Har har har...") and so my 25th birthday involved me being woken up by a nurse at 630am, and my first present was to be stabbed in the forearm for blood.


Still, it wasn't all bad. My parents and my ever-enthusiastic brother turned up with my presents which included some very funky ties and a Nikon digi-cam! It's not exactly a state of the art camera, in fact the internet reviews call it a "Facebook camera", but when compared to my medieval Sony Cybershot that has laboured to produce my headless videos, it was positively space-age!


In conclusion, I finally got home on the 23rd evening, and hopefully with another 3 days of total bed-rest my body should be at least 75% back to its former self. Still, the flu definitely has left its mark; I've lost 6kgs and all of the little muscle definition I had before the attack. Not that I had girls drooling over my physique, but it's quite a shame to have 9 months of work at the gym wiped out by 3 weeks of fever.


And so that has been my eventful December so far. Thanks to everyone that tried to get in touch with me and check up on me, and I apologise for not being able to reply to most of you. There shall be more posts before I head back to work, and perhaps even a headless video in the pipeline! Thanks for all the birthday wishes on Twitter as well, I was very touched.


Till next time, I wish everyone a very merry Christmas, and if I fail to blog before the 31st, I wish everyone a very happy new year as well!


Peace


G

Letter To My 16-Year Old Self

Dear 16-yr old Gehan

What goes on? Yes, that’s how we talk in the future. Greetings from your 24 year old self. I suppose at this time you’re sufficiently stressed out with A Levels to actually be unfazed by this letter-from-the-future, so perhaps that will make this conversation a little easier.

I know how much you tend to dream about having the ability to time-travel, but before you get yourself all worked up, let me just say that it never comes true. I guess this letter becomes all the more important now; a one-time-only cheat sheet into the future, so to speak.

Are you ready? Brace yourself!

The next 8 years of your life will be very different from the life you’ve lived so far, and as tempted as I am to fill you in on the details to make sure you don’t make the mistakes I did, that would only serve a tiny and selfish purpose. Besides, giving you details about the events that are going to unfold will not only rob you of their joy but will be woefully inadequate to you at this point.

Everything that happens in the next 8 years will shape you, mould you, break you and strengthen you in ways that words alone could never do. It’s gonna be kick-ass! But right now, I know what you need.

You need to know that you are not alone. That you are not a failure. That you’re not average. You need to know that you are meant for something more, and that your purpose is not to merely exist in the shadow of your peers. You need to know that you will be recognised, and that you are not foolish for being so emotional. You need to know that there is strength in you, that you have not even begun to understand. You need to know that you are a fighter, born and bred to bleed.

Stand up tall, and be proud. What you’re feeling now is just an illusion, a shadow of doubt and insecurity that has blanketed your vision for so long. I promise you that you will break free from this rut you think you’re stuck in.

Just remember to never quit on yourself, because everyone else will. I promise a bright, exciting and eventful future, but you won’t make it unless you learn to keep punching, and to never, never surrender.

Stop wallowing in self-pity. Soon you will come to a point where you mock those that do, so the sooner you get over it the better.

No more clues, my younger self. Be grateful that I’ve left the rest of your life a pleasant and unexplored mystery. I hope that this letter serves to be only a little nudge to get you on your way a little easier than it did me.

Take care of yourself, and prepare for the worst. You will fail your A levels.

Okay I’m just kidding.

Peace,

Gehan (24 years old)

PS: for the love of GOD and all things, burn those brown jeans and buy yourself a normal pair!

PPS: Thanks to Cadence for the tag. I'm doing pretty good over here, but the lack of internet is definitely taking it's toll. This post was relatively easy to write, so I managed to do it last night and bring it to work. Hope you are all doing well out there! And by the way, I hereby doth tag "That Girl"!

G

Dolphin's Cry

Well, apparently they do.


As is often the case, I turn to the other keyboard when I struggle with writer's block. This time I've decided to experiment with one of my favourite 90's rock songs, and hopefully I've been able to do it justice. I had actually planned on doing this a long time ago, but never had the confidence to record it. As a result, this is probably one of my most worked-on covers, though you probably won't be able to tell from listening to it.


Once again I apologise for the poor video quality. If the dodgy quality and annoying auto-focus bothers you that much, feel free to donate a better quality camera to the Darkside. Christmas is just around the corner, so let's be generous people!


So without much further ado, here is "Dolphin's Cry" by Live. As always, you can find the original here, and to download the audio version of this cover just click here.

Words

The Black Angel by ~causelessdemon

Sometimes you can't find the right words to describe how you're feeling.

This Is Why Gehan Is A Snob

I have been called many things in my short stay on this earth. Thanks to my unconventionally spelt name, I've heard everything from Gyaan to Gay-haan to Gay-hen. Throw in my middle name and - oh wait, you don't know about that.

Moving swiftly along..

Like I was saying, I've been called many things. Stupid. Funny. Weird. Short. Fat. Skinny. Sexy (yes, that's right!). Pessimistic. Mean. Cold. The list is endless. But then, throughout all these, the most common label has always been - "snob".

Apparently, I am a snob.

In an effort to clarify this, I consulted wikipedia. I mean, I'm a 24 year old adult male addicted to the internet, where else would I go, right? Well, Wikipedia states that a snob is - well it's pretty complex, and sounds like something a snob person with a more serious disposition would write about. Instead, my dictionary puts it more succintly - "a person who has an exaggerated respect for high social position or wealth and who looks down on those regarded as socially inferior".

Lovely. What the heck?

Over time I've had the opportunity (and a brazen lack of shame) to ask a few people why they felt that way about me. The answers I have received have been so varied and so bizarre that I still struggle to understand it. Which brings me to the point of this post.


Here are some of the reasons why I'm (apparently) a snob.


1. You don't talk much.

Ah, the classic answer. Apparently, because I don't socialise much or mix very well with people, I am a snob. No doubt, the only reason a person would not go around introducing himself to all and sundry is because he considers them inferior. Of course. What other reason could there be? It's not like perhaps he's self-conscious, shy, not a good conversationalist, or just quiet by nature.

No no, he's a snob. The bastard.


2. You're from Kandy.

I kid you not, I've even heard that! Yes, I am from the 'hill capital' and our people are full of the blood of kings, so naturally I am a snob. No, let's not judge my actions or my behaviour, or the fact that I'm half Indian and my father is a tamil. Lets just label me a derogatory term simply because I live here. I suppose this means people from the east coast are all fishermen and people from Nepal are all yetis.

Morons.

3. You talk to them so much and you don't talk to me like that.

That's because I don't know you like I know 'them'. I take time to get to know people, and when I reach a level of comfort I am free and open just like anyone else. However, I don't open up to everyone. Why should I? Surely I know who I would get along with, and also who would get along with me. If you're not that person, it's not that big a deal! I didn't get along with my own brother till about 5 years ago, he didn't mind. Why should you?

4. You speak English all the time.

That's because my Sinhala sucks. No, seriously, that's all there is to it.

Moron.

5. You have a massive ego.

I really have no idea where this comes from. I live at home with my parents, in a basement bedroom. I have no job, no friends and no money. How could I possibly have an ego? And this coming from someone that said I didn't talk much; I wonder how you managed to assess my massive ego without me saying anything.


6. You're a bully, you always say mean things to me.

You're right, I do. Especially with girls, I tend to be a bit over the top, but I have always thought I knew where to draw the line. I tend to show affection and camaraderie via slight verbal jabs and the like. It's just a way for me to show you that I'm having fun, and it isn't meant to be at your expense. If it does come across like that, perhaps I've crossed the line. This is the only point that I can somewhat understand.

7. You're always making fun of people.

Why is this such a bad thing? When I'm in a group I definitely make fun of someone or the other, if the opportunity arises. I like to think that people would do that to me too if they found something I said or did funny. Yet just because I point and laugh now and then, it doesn't mean it is done with malice. When a friend trips on his laces and falls over, I would laugh at him as long as he didn't fall in front of a moving vehicle and end up in hospital. Anything short of that is going to result in laughter. Wouldn't you? It's the universal short-cut to the funny bone - why else would we find this funny? It isn't done out of an air of superiority; if I tripped over my laces, I'd be surprised if no one laughed at me!

I have a sense of humour. If you don't get that, we shouldn't be talking anyway. And since when did having a sense of humour become a bad thing??

8. You use the word 'ciao'.

You have got to be kidding me.



I really should stop now, because my blood is boiling as I type this out (which reminds me - apparently getting angry is another sign of snobbishness!). I generally don't go around defending myself but the sheer ludicrousness of these assumptions were just begging for a post. At the end of it all, perhaps I am a snob, but if farcical deductions such as these are enough for people to form opinions on people, I shudder to think of the number of completely bogus stories that have been whispered behind people's back, accusing innocent (most likely) people for what is, in the end, no reason at all.


Watch your words, children.