Come Alive

Happy Easter everyone!

Jeremy Camp - Come Alive

As I watch the world being held captive by dreams

That will never be fulfilled in this life,

Chasing the darkness and everything that surrounds

All the emptiness buried inside,

Well I won't stop showing this hope that is holding

The passion so deep in my heart,

To tell all the world of Your love and affection

And the plan that You've had from the start,

So I will continue to fight

'Til the world comes alive

'Til the world comes alive

Cause You have restored us

And You have redeemed us

And we have been given new life

Cause You are alive

There is a freedom that begins by receiving

The forgiveness that cleanses us all

All the broken and bleeding just start by believing

His love has conquered death's call.

So I will continue to fight

'Til the world comes alive

'Til the world comes alive

Cause You have restored us

And You have redeemed us

And we have been given new life

Cause You are alive

I walk out on the battlefield

See that all the pain is real

Be the hands that stop the bleeding

Seeing all these wounded souls

All they really need is hope

I'll show Your great love is healing

'Til the world comes alive

'Til the world comes alive

'Til the world comes alive

Cause You have restored us

And You have redeemed us

And we have been given new life

Cause You are alive

And You are alive

You are alive

You are alive

As I watch the world being held captive by dreams

That will never be fulfilled in this life

Morons And Extremists - The Real Threat To Sri Lanka

I was listening to the PHAT 30 countdown on Friday evening when YES FM RJ's Jeremy and Delano started talking about Oscar Pistorious, the famous South African athlete who had just been arrested and subsequently charged with murdering his girlfriend. As you probably know by now, what at first seemed like an accidental shooting, later turned into a 1st degree murder charge. It was a tragic and highly charged story; however, it seems the friendly RJ's of YES FM didn't quite share this sentiment.

 

 

Let me just say, Jeremy and Delano are easily one of the worst RJ duos I have ever had the misfortune of listening to. I have heard babbling toddlers hold better conversations than these two geniuses; they spoke of the Pistorious murder in the most childish, idiotic way, first discussing the mechanics of shooting someone blind and then trying to guess what kind of costume Pistorious' model girlfriend must have been wearing to scare him into shooting her dead. Then, after fulfilling their quota of inane and insensitive chatter between songs, they promptly dedicated the next song to Oscar Pistorious' dead girlfriend.

The song? Ke$ha's "Die Young".

Let this sink in for a minute. These two clowns, who are professional RJ's, thought it was amusing to dedicate a song about partying like you're going to die young, to the victim of a brutal shooting. I almost stopped the car in shock and disbelief. It was a moment so inappropriate, so repulsive and so disgusting, most people would think twice before making that joke to their best friend. Here were two people who felt it was fine to share this during prime time on national radio.

This is just one example of a growing trend I have noticed in Sri Lanka, where people who you thought would 'know better', simply don't. From matters that range from women's rights to politics, from common manners to religion and race, a growing number of the 'educated masses', as I like to call them, are standing not on the side of reason but of complete madness.

Of course this sort of thing is not restricted to radio; I've already blogged about the famous (for 15 minutes) Sri Lankan sisters Natalie and Nadiya Anderson, who went on to discuss the various 'servants' they kept at home while being interviewed for The Amazing Race. While their actions can be excused as more a blooper than a serious issue, it once again shows the lack of awareness to cultural and social norms, especially when they were in essence representing the country to an international audience.

This is starting to ring some alarm bells, because Sri Lanka is no country of unity and harmony, despite the various images of harps and angels the government propaganda machine is generating. The truth is that while we have ended the most visible of wars, we are still fighting an invisible war against the dictatorship of the Rajapakses, the corruption of his friends-and-family government, the unknown state of the North, the lack of any form of opposition, poor education standards and the plight of women that work home and abroad, just to name a few. Given all these serious matters, it's important that the general public are educated and show solidarity for justice and reason, and not side with the fanatics and extremists, such as our newest friends - the Bodu Bala Sena.

 

 

Over the last few months, this group of organised (and sometimes violent) Buddhist extremists have become more and more vocal, staging protests and demonstrations against Muslims in various parts of the island. While anti-muslim hate is not something new in Sri Lanka, it has rarely been taken to such lengths as these. We can all remember how the Dambulla mosque incident turned out, with the Muslims wisely taking a diplomatic and non-confrontational stance towards the violent thuggery depicted by the monks. One wonders how much longer they can maintain such a stance, given the type of protests the BBS have staged. In the area where I work, monks and locals gathered together holding up signs depicting Allah as being a pig. Recently someone shared a picture of an effigy of what can only be either a Muslim imam or perhaps the Prophet being burned.

The BBS are very serious, and have active support in the most surprising circles. Not only has the government almost been completely silent on their activities, but there are a growing number of supporters that have thrown their weight behind their extremist views. Facebook especially has been flooded with 'patriotic' hate groups, calling for Sri Lankan 'lions' to purge the country of all Muslims since we are after all a 'buddhist state'.

 

 

Here's the thing though; let's for a minute put aside the agenda of the BBS. They are, after all, just another extremist hate group, and the world has its fair share of them. What is truly disturbing is that a growing number of people, educated and intelligent people, have actually bought into their fear-mongering mandate. There are articles published in our national newspapers, proudly defending their actions and even justifying their actions. That particular article has been shared 1500 times on Facebook alone, and that just terrifies me. I'm saddened to say that even members of my close circle of friends and family are starting to question the 'purpose' behind the halaal certification, and whether it should in fact be abolished in Sri Lanka.

 

 

To cap it off, many of you must have heard of the One Billion Rising movement that I blogged about recently. The aim was to raise awareness regarding gender based violence, and was part of an international movement that spanned all the continents. We had our own One Billion Rising movement in Colombo, and this post nicely details all the fantastic work that was done leading up to it. However, today I was shown a blog post written by an anonymous blogger, who had shared a picture of the Lipton Circus protest, and written the following:

 

"One Billion Rising..Colombo style..errr...thats more like One Hundred Rising but..hey..still..it was a good show! a show of strength a definite show of power...women power..NGO power..check the Chicks..should have gone there yesterday.. could have definitely hit on one of those loose NGO women...could have had a different V. Day then!!!"

 

What follows are a series of anonymous comments, basically ridiculing the protest, claiming the protesters don't know anything about women in urban areas because they are from the English speaking middle class, that they are a 'pathetic bunch of stooges who dance to the tune of some organisations from the West', and that this is all a publicity stunt for 'patrons living in a cool Western country'.

There are more bizarre ravings involving government conspiracies, but I don't want to go on, and I don't want to link to them either since I don't want their idiocy to be advertised.

 

 

Bottom line: There are crazy people out there; that's a given. What I can't understand is how their numbers seem to be growing. I can't understand how every time I log on to Facebook there is more evidence of people whom I call 'friends' sharing all this extremist nonsense. I can't understand how  normal people, brought up in multicultural environments, can say and do the most insensitive things in public forums. I can't believe the voice of reason, peace, love and understanding is the one in the minority.

 

 

God help us all.

Butterfly (A 'One Billion Rising' Post)

It's amazing how easy it is for us to ignore what is sometimes right in front of our eyes. Often, we get so conditioned to particular ways and accepted norms, that our senses become deadened and numbed to certain stimuli. Like spending too long in a cellar, our eyes grow accustomed to the gloom and dank surroundings, and before we know it we no longer ache for the fresh air and the sun upon our faces.

I'm ashamed to admit that sometimes I am like that too, when it comes to violence against women. I tell myself that the overwhelming data and statistics are wrong, and that the situation may be slightly blown out of proportion, and that maybe this doesn't happen to all women, but just to women who are 'unfortunate' enough to come across a crazed pervert. I'm ashamed that I entertain such thoughts for even the briefest of nanoseconds.

The fact is that it's hard for a man like me to understand that women live through the fear of harassment on a daily basis. That at every juncture or turn, they have to be constantly vigilant, constantly vary of their surroundings and the circumstances they are in. Driving late at night is not even an option; women don't even attempt it anymore. Walking home from work after dark is an unknown activity if you are a woman. Travelling by bus becomes an exercise in strategy: is the bus too full, too empty? Are there enough seats with women seated adjacent, and if not, are the men at least decent human beings in appearance? If I have to stand, is my bag long enough to cover my front and/or my rear, should the need arise?

These are just a few examples of the dangers every women face in our world; I could go on and on if I considered the work environment, home, family, women of different ages, etc. We've come to the point where women are raped in our neighbourhoods, and we can only shrug when the perpetrators claim she was a prostitute, as if that is somehow relevant to the brutal assault. We've come to the point where little girls are violated in ways so graphic that they are unable to continue living, while their supposed protectors are given a slap on the wrist and told sternly to not do it again. We've come to the point where even some women believe it is their right to be only second-class citizens, and that any woman who dares claim otherwise is a godless, westernized anarchist.

I hope to be a father one day, in the not too distant future. I don't know how much the world will change between then and now, but I refuse to believe that there may be a chance I bring a girl into this world that can only hope the odds are stacked in her favour for a normal life, that can only cross her innocent fingers and wish that she can have an equal chance at success, that can only sit and pray she goes through life as one of the few lucky individuals who gets away from the leering, bullying beast that is rape culture.

I refuse to believe that there may be a chance my daughter will go through her entire life looking over her shoulders and running away from dark corners.

So today, I choose to rise.

 

 

If you want to rise with me, click here to join the One Billion Rising campaign in Sri Lanka. Add your voice to those who choose to speak out. Stand united and join the demonstration on Feb 14th in Colombo.

Rise.

---

After 3 years and many headless cover videos, I finally wrote my very first song over the weekend, and it was inspired by the One Billion Rising campaign. I was very nervous, this being my first foray into writing and composing, but I hope you enjoy this simple tune; hopefully, the first of many.

Many thanks to Nishan for working on this with me over the weekend. Stellar, cuz!




 

Hate Speech In Sri Lanka: Why Are We Still Listening?

We all have experience with crazy people. They're normal, in almost every way, except that tiny little thing that sets them off, and before you know it you're wondering how this person managed to escape the asylum.

This post isn't about those people. God knows that just like taxes and Enrique Iglesias, no matter how hard you'd like for them to just disappear, you make peace with it because you know they're not going anywhere.

This post is about the crazy people that get put on a pedestal and asked for their 'opinions'.

Today I read this post, titled "Laws and religion - some concerns for Sinhala Buddhists" written in the local Daily News. In it, the writer - one Shenali Waduge - goes on a point by point defense of Sinhala Buddhists from the wily and scheming attacks against them, especially the claims that they are 'racists', 'extremist' and even 'militant'.

This, to me, is just laughably absurd. See, there are a lot of people at risk in our little island paradise. Depending on your gender, orientation, politics, religion, mother tongue, upbringing, or just your appearance, there is a real danger which lies under the surface of day to day life. However, the members of the Sinhala Buddhist majority are not one of them. Yet, the writer goes on to paint a picture of a systematic campaign to not only destroy the entire section of the community, but to introduce a new wave of 'Muslimized' converts to rule the land. It's a beautiful tale of intrigue and conspiracy, not unlike which we have seen on TV shows such as "Homeland", but like those shows, this too is just another piece of sensationalist fiction.

 

Let's break down some key quotes.

 

 

"There is little to challenge that freedoms and rights have been enjoyed by Tamils (11 percent) and Muslims (9 percent) and it is because of the rights they enjoy that minorities have been able to openly bring up issues."

 

I wonder what the writer means by 'openly bring up issues', because there are few things that are 'open' in Sri Lanka, least of all anything that has to do with negative press. Just last week there was a violent protest outside of the No Limit department store, a Muslim owned enterprise, by a radical group of so-called 'patriots' calling for a boycott of the store because of it's ownership. There were violent clashes, and the police were involved, yet not a single iota of this incident made it to any of the local papers. So much for openly bringing up issues.

 

"Sinhalese Buddhists are concerned because Buddhist cultural heritage is being destroyed, Buddhist archeological and historical cultural monuments are being destroyed"

 

This is an interesting point to make, considering a large portion of this crimes have been traced back to Buddhist monks raiding their own temples of relics. The most popular story last year was the case of the Kotte double murders, where a Nilame of another temple was found to be the mastermind behind the heist that went wrong, leading to the death of two monks who were unfortunate enough to identify the criminals. Then there was the bizarre case of the mob led by a Buddhist monk that stole a deity from a Hindu temple in broad daylight up north. These are just a few cases I can think off off-hand which have made it to the news, while other reports have always linked ex-military men and deserters to these temple thefts. I haven't heard anything about secret Muslim strike squads and Christian ninjas infiltrating temples to steal things.

 

"We are concerned because the growing number of Sharia Law courts that were never present in Sri Lanka previously. When Muslims had been following the Sri Lankan laws for decades, why should there be a sudden need for a Muslim only law? Why should 9 percent of the population have a separate law when as citizens of Sri Lanka, Muslims must abide by Sri Lanka’s laws?"

 

Sharia law, after some light research, has been in effect for quite some time. The main purpose of these courts in Sri Lanka are to settle Muslim marriage disputes, which are governed by a different set of laws. As far as I know, there have not been any legal issues between the State and the Sharia courts regarding Sharia law since all the parties involved are Muslims, and as such it doesn't affect the remaining 91% of the population as the writer states. How then is this a national issue that affects Sinhala Buddhists? Are Sinhala Buddhists marrying Muslims and then getting the short end of the stick? Since these courts are mainly community based and are set up primarily in towns that are of majority Muslims, doesn't the writers argument go against her?

"We are concerned about extremist demands like loud speakers which does not constitute a fundamental right – speakers are only an electronic tools, a recent phenomenon."

You have got to be kidding me. Demands for loudspeakers? Buddhist temples and mosques basically have a chanting war every single day, and I'd like to see either party decide to lay aside their weapons of noise pollution even for an evening. Labelling this as an extremist course of action is sort of hypocritical, surely.

 

"Even Muslim owned supermarkets that caters to all communities shut down for prayers on Friday. "

 

Seriously, this is about as consequential as complaining about those Liberty Plaza stores that close for lunch. Seriously, national issue? Attack on Sinhala Buddhist way of life? Seriously?

 

"We question how peaceful Islam is when almost all the major conflicts in the World are Muslim-oriented and end up Muslims killing each other due to sectarian violence far more than the damage the West does with their air warfare."

 

I just. I mean. What the. I can't. Huh?

 

"It has become a practice for both Muslims and Tamils to hide their follies and wrongs behind the cry of “ethnic discrimination”, “hate campaigns” to cover up accusations made against them. It has worked well to camouflage their ulterior motives by internationally promoting Sinhalese Buddhist as “extremists” and using the power of money to spread the news via media. It has been convenient to quote “compassion” of Buddhism and ridicule Buddhists when they attempt to stop Islamic expansionism by bring the truth to the public"

 

From what I have read so far in this article, the so-called 'follies' and 'wrongs' are closing shops for prayers, loudspeakers and for exercising their faith. What Ms.Waduge fails to mention are the numerous acts of mob violence against the Muslim community, including the Dambulla incident last year when Buddhist monks stormed a mosque, disrupted their prayers and protested outside, demanding that the mosque be demolished. True to form, the 'majority' held firm and the mosque has been slated to be demolished and relocated, despite the fact that it has been legally registered more than 50 years ago and has never incited any form of communal disharmony until then. Does this sound like justice to you, oh mighty majority?

 

This doesn't even take into account the various unreported incidents of churches being attacked around the country by Buddhist monks and their goons. I have come to know of several of these through people we know, with some even being attacked simply for having a gathering of Christians at their home every Sunday. This somehow, never makes it to the news. Last year there was a report of valuable stained glass windows being destroyed in a small secluded church down South by - you guessed it - our friendly non-racist non-extremist protectors of Buddhism, yet that too never made it to the news! Are you starting to see the trend? Majority for the win!

The rest of the article goes on to detail the secret plan Muslims have for taking over the country. It's a convenient four step strategy, involving such things as migrating to a host country and keeping a low profile, before seeking representation (the nerve!) in all spheres and then having the gall to file lawsuits against 'Islamaphobia', converting citizens secretly against their will and then holding the host country and religion 'hostage' before declaring it a Muslim theocracy.

 

 

 

Look; the entire article is completely bonkers. It sounds like someone on a bad acid trip, or some kind of low budget sci-fi movie, and what's even worse is that the writer identifies with the crazy people she is defending. I'm sad to say that this isn't the first time I'm hearing people speak like this, and a 5 minute search on Facebook will uncover a massive number of pages dedicated to similar extremist, racist, militant thinking. Yet, to find sensationalist, fear-mongering dribble published in a national newspaper is inexcusable! When our media is controlled to such a point that people have now forgotten there is anything north of Anuradhapura except free food and joyous Tamil families playing hopscotch with the Army, any platform given to mad men/women like this writer is negligent and just intolerable. The entire article compares Sri Lanka to radical Muslim states and rules such as those held in Saudi Arabia. Why can she not understand that we are not to hold ourselves to such low standards, but instead aspire to be a free nation that doesn't have to militantly put down the minority when they try to seek representation? Yes, there are Muslim states with grave injustices being carried out, but is that an excuse to conduct our own form of terrorism on their communities in our country? What kind of playground mentality is this?

 

Bottom line: there are crazy people out there, but it's our job as a sensible, peace-loving community of intelligent adults to refuse them a platform to spread their hate-filled message. In that respect, and in the light of this (and other) article(s) written by writers such as Shenali Waduge, we have failed miserably.

Long December (Or Good Riddance 2012)

Well, here we are again. The end of yet another year. I had such grand plans for my year ending post, but I thought I'd save that for a first of 2013 post instead.

I suppose I should reflect on the year and all, right? Well, it's been a terrible year for blogging - I've posted the least number of posts this year since I started this blog. I shall attribute this to less time in front of the computer and more time actually doing things, and I'd only be half lying. It's been a pretty good year on the music front though, what with the Colombo Music Festival, my introduction to the Melomanic Sessions in January, and the recently concluded "Final Wishlist". When it comes to music, there are few better teachers than experience, and I've had a lot of hard lessons this year. Some good shows at Melo, a few good performances at the Music Festival, and a lot of bombs that have me still shaking my head. Still, I'm so glad for all the opportunities I've had to perform and I hope 2013 brings even more my way.

It's hard for me to write about the personal front. It's been challenging, and I have made mistakes more often than I have succeeded, but isn't that life in general? I've watched the people I love let me down, and I in turn have let down the people that love me, and at the end of the day all we can do is try to forgive, try to heal, try to live with the things that have been said to us or by us. Our hearts keep beating, our lungs keep breathing, and time calls out from ahead of us asking if we're coming or not. Is it easy? No. But mixed in among all the bad, there is a lot of good, and sometimes that's enough to make peace with the rest of it.

My brother moved to Switzerland for his higher studies, and I miss him terribly. I wish he had been here to watch my sing; he has always been an honest critic. Christmas was tough without him, but apparently he was working on Christmas so I suppose we got the better end of that deal. Looking forward to seeing him in 2013.

All in all, 2012 was memorable, for both good and not-so-good reasons, and if anything is 'memorable' then I suppose it was worth it, wasn't it?

So here's to a new year, with more of the new and less of the old. May you, dear readers, always journey forwards and onwards to brighter, better things.

To sign off, let me add a few songs to this post. The first is a video of one of my solos at the "Final Wishlist" programme 3 weeks ago. The second is a rush job, hastily edited cover made with my hoarse vocals and zero editing. Not something I would normally do, but I just wanted to get it out there.

Happy New Year everyone!

G

To All You Rapists

The woman and a male friend, who have not been identified, were traveling in a public bus in the Indian capital, New Delhi, after watching a film on the evening of Dec. 16 when they were attacked by six men who raped her. They also beat the couple and inserted an iron rod into her body resulting in severe organ damage. Both of them were then stripped and thrown off the bus, according to police.

(Source:  TIME World)

I haven't blogged in a long time, but this was enough to spur me to break my silence.

I'm getting really tired of hearing the same old arguments in connection with abuse against women and sexual assault. I'm sick of hearing about her underage drinking, about her partying, about her drug use, about her tiny skirts, about her many sexual partners, about how it wasn't "legitimate rape".

So listen up, priests, ministers, policemen, bus drivers, layman and even some of you women - you can sit and debate - debate - the so-called ethics and 'moral code' regarding men and women's attire and behaviour. You can debate lifestyles, you can debate all of these things.

But there is no argument in heaven or earth, no argument from any religious text, no argument from any corner, no conceivable scenario that justifies or excuses a man from sticking anything, be it his dick or a metal rod, into a woman's vagina. By even trying to do so, you are joining the side of the rapist. You are siding with the RAPISTS!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT??

Got it? Good.

It has to freakin' stop. Now. 

p.s: Dear Indians; you are quick to set fire to things when cricketers fail you. Please, use this opportunity, this media spotlight, this worldwide outrage to unleash your pyrotechnics and end this lackadaisical, nonchalant, turn-a-blind-eye type of attitude towards your mothers, your sisters, your daughters. For the love of God women, please make it stop.

Notes On A Funeral

Recently I attended the funeral of a colleague's father. He had been battling throat cancer and succumbed after around 6-8 months of treatment. He was in his 70's, and I think his passing was somewhat expected given his frail condition. I got the call on Sunday that he had finally succumbed, and we went with the rest of the office crew for the funeral at his house.

I've not been to too many funerals, and the few I have been to have been traditional Christian funerals, at churches etc. Perhaps this colours my opinions a little bit, but whatever the case may be, I thought of jotting a few points down.

1. The first thing I noticed was how there were very few people actually 'grieving'. As we entered the funeral home, there were no idle people around. The family members were busy arranging food and drinks, while the rest of the 'visitors' simply sat outside catching up with each other in the hastily erected tent. Even our colleague showed little or no emotion that this was in fact his father's funeral, instead spending most of his time making sure the generator was okay and chatting with a few of his relatives and work friends. Now, I perfectly understand that people deal with grief in different ways, yet I still felt a little unsettled at this lack of emotion at the proceedings.

2. While the family at least were somewhat sombre, the rest of the people who had turned up at the funeral showed little concern that this was a funeral, loudly guffawing and joking with each other, completely oblivious that they were standing roughly 20 feet from a dead body. I was really embarrassed by this; how can people be so callous over the death of a loved one? Sure you may not have known the man personally but still, some form of decorum should be present. Just because they've seated outside in this tent, the gang goes into party mood. If there was booze around, they would probably have burst into song.

3. The Buddhist monks arrived, and while my poor Sinhala and ignorance to most Buddhist customs prevent me from commenting more on the part they played, I was rather surprised when they left abruptly in the middle of the proceedings. Just as soon as a someone got up to speak about the deceased man, they three monks simply nodded at our colleague and got into their waiting trishaw. I found this rather strange, but again this may be the custom that I am unaware of. Yet, if we are asking a religious figure to attend our funeral, isn't it sort of a given that we want them there for the whole ceremony? I would be very surprised if a Christian priest simply read a few verses and left in the middle of the funeral, leaving the family to handle the rest of the proceedings, and as far as I know, most faiths would have a similar expectation.

4. While I know that a funeral of a loved one is certainly memorable, I don't know why in the world anyone would want to take photographs during it! There was one relative, armed with a point & shoot, who took several pictures throughout the evening. I'm talking about the coffin, the deceased, the people, the priests, the priests and the coffin, and then the hearse, the coffin again as it was carried to the graveyard, the grave stone, the coffin as it was lowered, the coffin as it was buried. It was ridiculous, having this serious and difficult time being punctuated with camera flashes and the digital beeps every time he went back and forth to see if he got the coffin in just the right light. If anyone did that at a funeral of my loved one, there would be an extra body to bury. I'm sure he uploaded them on Facebook that same night.

5. Our company makes a point of sending an email to the entire workforce if a relative of an employee passes away, including providing transport to and from the funeral. I always found this surprisingly considerate, given our 'corporate' label, but I have since noticed that this trend of announcing and providing transport for everyone's funerals has made the whole idea a bit of an 'event'. You hear people asking each other if they're going for this one or not, as if there is some form of merit gained by attending the most number of funerals in a year. Is this what has led to my previous points regarding the levity of the attendees? I'm unsure, but it's something to ponder on.

Aurora Shootings

There is something extremely chilling about the Aurora theatre shootings.

"The Dark Knight Rises" may be one of the most anticipated movies of the year; an event that many people would gladly line up for days to see. The midnight screenings must have been booked up within minutes of tickets going on sale, and understandably so; imagine being the first people in your town to see the biggest movie event of the year?

And then, with all that excitement and anticipation, just ten minutes into what was supposed to be 165 minutes of cinematic excellence, a mad man walks in with a mask, drops tear gas on the floor, and starts killing people.

The absurdity of the situation, the sheer senselessness of the act, terrifies me. 

What an evil, wicked and cruel world we live in.

(Click image for source)

Late Night Psychology

I just caught myself in the most bizarre situation.

There I was, in my room, at 2am, shooting imaginary free throws in the dark.

I kid you not. One minute I was in bed, staring at a silent phone, endlessly refreshing Twitter, when suddenly I just jumped out of bed, stood at a ‘line’ formed by the floor, set my feet, and went through the motions of a free throw. I must be losing my mind.

I’m a mess right now, but you couldn’t tell by looking at me. On the outside everything is pretty much business as usual, yet inside my head there is a lot of confusion, a lot of stress, and it manifests itself in strange ways. I have often looked to music and singing in times of turmoil, but it was two o’clock in the morning, and there was no way I was bursting into song at that ungodly hour. Option 2? Basketball.

Why basketball? I’m not sure. It’s not just because I love the sport, or because I was any good at it (I wasn’t). So what possible explanation could there be?

I got in position again and went through the same motions again, the same ball spin with all those dribbles before getting into my shooting motion, letting my arm rise with an open palm, releasing the imaginary ball at the apex and following through with the shooting arm.

In basketball, no matter if you are shooting the ball well or shooting it horribly, the true scorers know that you need to get to the free throw line by drawing fouls on you. Scoring points from the free throw line is key; they’re relatively easier than shooting with someone trying to defend you, and they are the same all the time. So players develop routines, unique to them, that helps them get in rhythm and shoot the free throw as close to perfect every time. Easy points.

Perhaps that’s what I need: routine. Something tried and tested that I can go back to with confidence. Something to restore order to chaos. Something stable.

I am reaching and searching for answers right now, and I am struggling to find them. I am struggling to find comfort or stability in anything. I am blessed with a home and a loving family, but after the recent trials we have been through, that ‘stability’ has not yet been re-established in them. Friends are too fickle and fleeting; they come and go depending on their posting. I am constantly on the move, one week at home, one week in Colombo, the rest of the weeks at work.

There is too much flux, too much change, and nothing constant. It irks me. I crave peace, silence, stability, but there are just no answers, not in music, not in reading, not in prayer, not in meditation, not in family, and not from above.

Perhaps soon I will figure out what will give me this peace that I desire, but until then I suppose I’ll just stand here like a complete idiot, shooting invisible basketballs, and seeking solace in the imagined swish of the ball falling through the net. Comical, pathetic, and melodramatic. Yes, even I’m laughing at myself. Yet tonight, it will have to do.

Twenty Minute Posting VI: Sun and Rain

I haven't written a "Twenty Minute Post" in a while. For those who haven't read them, basically I set myself twenty minutes to write whatever comes to mind. A sort of writing exercise, that helps me get things out on 'paper' so to speak.

So what do I have to say today? A lot, as usual; my mind is always actively seeking distraction in any way it can. Recently I have been thinking about tattoos, and whether I should get one. Of course, it's not just about getting a tattoo; these things are rather permanent, so you need the right design, the right location, the right artist, and above all the right 'reason'. I don't really see myself getting one for purely artistic reasons, as I'm hardly someone who can claim to have artistic taste. Yet, it's intriguing, the idea of branding yourself with something that you assume will still be relevant and attractive 10, 15, 20, 40 years down the line. 

What do you think? Would a tattoo look good on me? 

I performed at the Melomanic Sessions last Saturday, and as always I had a great time. The show was excellent, and the music was really good! In my opinion Asela and Salvage stole the show, but Imaad was an excellent opener, and the bands were all good. I'll upload the audio as soon as I get my hands on it. It was a fun show, and though I was rather nervous before the performance for some reason, once I got up there I felt relaxed. Overall I have got more positives than negatives, so I'll take that as a good thing. I'll let you be the judge of it yourself as soon as I upload the audio from the set. Stay tuned!

One of my biggest flaws is that I can be rather moody. I'm not sure if moody is the right word; it implies that the reasons behind the mood shifts are generally petty. Life is a constantly moving ocean, and one can never expect the highs or lows to last forever. Yet, it's how we deal with those swells that show your character and strength. I have done a poor job of that, and I must rectify this as soon as possible. Being euphoric when I'm high is well and good, but beating myself down into submission during a low is unacceptable. After all, broody introspective men are sexy only for a short while; then it just begins to become annoying, and quite rightly so.

I feel that my idea of friendship is very different from most other people's views. I don't have enough time left to elaborate further, but I have been in some surprisingly awkward situations regarding friendship in the last few months. My motives in friendship are generally honourable, and I am not the kind of person to pretend to be something I'm not just to appease a peer. Yet it seems this is a common characteristic among most other people, and indeed a celebrated skill, as not everyone 'needs the same thing'. It's a disturbing thought, but it has merit. While my 'strategy' involves more honesty and is easier to maintain, perhaps the other way is more successful.

Another thing about friendship is that despite history and the past, friendship is just like every other infant relationship. I often am surprised at the tiny things that can reduce a solid friendship into a bickering, blathering mess. It has happened too many times in my past to be labelled as isolated incidents. At the end of the day, you have yourself, and you have your words, and you have your actions. There is no such thing as character and reputation, no excuse like "you know me, you know who I am"; friendships are hard, and unforgiving. They're great when you're on a high, but when you're down, there are few who are willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, or attempt to see things in your eyes. Perhaps the world has made us too bitter, for too long, for us to trust anyone to that degree anymore.

I must think about it.

Time's up!

When Words Are Not Enough

My world makes no sense to me, and unlike before, my words are unable to encapsulate this and present it as a witty commentary on this blog.

I used to be able to express myself in song, but now I can't find anything that accurately expresses what I'm feeling.

It's moments like these I simply raise my hands in surrender.

This song helps me do that.

Point Of View

For those of you that have followed this blog for a while, you might recall there was a phase back in '09 where I was gloriously unemployed. I say 'gloriously' because while I did my best to find an employer that could use and abuse me, I often took a 'glass half full' approach to unemployment - after all, I was very comfortable at home, I got to work out three days a week, go jogging, blog incessantly and generally do whatever I wanted. Of course, eventually I got off my lazy butt and found a job, and soon all those other extra-curricular activities took a backseat.

It's the Sinhala and Tamil new year here, and as a result we're on holiday for a week. It's nice sitting at home and relaxing after a long time, without having to squeeze all my fun into a couple of days before setting off for work again. However, I was determined not to spend the entire holiday in front of my computer, so there has been a lot of time spent in front of the piano instead, the results of which I hope I will be able to post soon.

Yesterday, I decided to go on one of my infamous 'walks'; those hour or 90-minute long treks I used to go on during my stretch of unemployment. Kandy is famous for its hills, and the tiny lanes and twisting roads that wind up them, as well as the scattered housing perched almost precariously on the slopes. It makes for some very confusing driving, but it also makes for an excellent work out.

I used to have several routes, but yesterday I chose the hardest route, which includes a good 12-15 minutes of uphill jogging, followed by more climbing to a view point that looks over the city. I discovered all these lanes by pure chance back in the day, so it was refreshing to go along the old familiar route again. Of course, the scenery had changed somewhat.

Sounds like a name for some UNICEF project

I wonder if this wall belongs to Dilu, because that would make sense then

I somehow jogged to the top of the first crest with my lungs on fire and the blood pounding in my veins. I consider myself to be in somewhat decent shape, but jogging up that incline was something else. I can't remember whether I found it harder or easier than back in the day, but at that moment I didn't have enough blood reaching my brain to ponder. After finally catching my breath, I started climbing up the second half of the hill, a series of twisting lanes wide enough for just one vehicle at a time. Again, I was surprised to see how much had changed; the roads were tarred, and the edges were clearly marked for the novice driver, and a lot of houses which were under construction at the time were now beautifully done. Houses with a view no doubt command quite the price.

As I climbed higher, the light started to fade, and soon I noticed a few people staring curiously at this spectre in a white t-shirt and tracks walking up their lane in the half light, on the eve of the Sinhala and Tamil new year. I was not bothered, my ear phones were plugged securely into my ears and Incubus was keeping my thoughts company.

Almost there..

I kept climbing higher, anxious to reach my view point before it got too dark to enjoy it. Three years ago there were several places where I could see the city below but despite the improvements in the state of the homes here, the tall grass on the side of the road had gotten out of control, obscuring most of the view. After  40 minutes, I finally reached the top, tapped the light post like I always did, and took in the view of the Hill Capital.

Poor lighting; my phone camera did its best

The light was rapidly fading, and the cloud cover lent a very muted tone to the view, but it was still refreshing standing there, the cool breeze seeping through my drenched clothes as well as into my heaving lungs. The view was the same and yet so different from all those times I came up here so many years ago. The overgrown shrubbery, the newly painted walls and additional storeys all lent an alien feel to a familiar surrounding. 

I stood there for a good ten minutes, just taking in the view and trying to recall the thoughts that must have been in my head 3 years ago at this very point. I remember I used to wonder how it would feel to live here, on this mountain side with this view. I used to imagine designing a home, perhaps with my wife, many years in the future, and I distinctly remember thinking that the twisting lanes would deter friends from coming home for parties and meals. And imagine taking the kids to school! I doubt any school transport would come up that hill no matter how much I paid them...

I smiled to myself as I replayed these hidden discussions in my head now. How silly I was back then, planning and hoping for things I had no comprehension about. And yet, I am almost envious of that man, who was hopeful in his naivety. My thoughts last night were much more sober, and far less exciting. Just like the view, somehow I had changed despite remaining the same.

It had been a while since I had had time to myself, to clear my head and to air my thoughts. I swore to myself I would do it more often; I only hope I can live up to that promise.

My Chains Are Gone

Note: I seem to have forgotten to mention that this post is for Easter, a mistake I now regret. To everyone who celebrates it, I wish you all a Happy Easter. 

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now I'm found

Was blind, but now I see

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy rains
Unending love, Amazing grace

The Lord has promised good to me
His word my hope secures
He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy rains
Unending love, Amazing grace

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow
The sun forbear to shine
But God, Who called me here below
Will be forever mine
Will be forever mine
You are forever mine

Being Strong By Being Weak

As I type this post, the day is almost at an end. I've just got back from dinner and the gym (not in that order), and I feel very, very tired. It has not been a good day, or week for that matter. 

Let me start with the gym. Working out has become very taxing off late, not nearly the joy that it used to be a few years ago. My inability to stick to a routine and come regularly to the gym (because of work) has resulted in me losing all of the little muscle tone I had. I still go as often as I can, and it is a very humbling experience. I can no longer jog the same amount I used to as easily as before, nor can I lift the same weights I used to as easily. My body is noticeably weaker than it once was.

This brings me to my point - what is strength, really? Is emotional strength (or strength of character, or whatever you may choose to label it,) really something we can measure and quantify, or just a vague variable we assign ball-park measures to? What makes one person 'stronger' than the next?

I'm in my 27th year on this Earth, and I have to admit that ten years ago, I expected my 27 year old self to be in a better place, and to generally be 'better'. I always assumed I would have conquered my demons and elevated myself to the 'adult' plane, tackling 'adult' problems. Things like insurance, bank accounts, housing loans, taxes. Perhaps even a family.

Instead, I find myself in pretty much the same place I was a few years ago. I am still weak in the areas I was, still unable to deal with certain things, still unable to fix areas in my life that need fixing. Still struggling. 

But of late, I'm starting to look at it differently. There is a difference between the person I am now, and the person I was back then. It's not that I'm stronger, or wiser. The only difference I see is that now, I know my weaknesses. 

As I try to peer through the fog that seems to shroud my future, I find that I am not armed with many weapons to tackle the struggles I will inevitably come across. However, just like in basketball, sometimes a good offense is a strong defense. I know where I am weak, and my vulnerabilities. As much as I'd like to pretend I have thick skin now, my heart is still very much on my sleeve, and my emotions are far too close to the surface for comfort (a fact my discerning mother takes great pride in pointing out). Yet by acknowledging these weaknesses, I am better able to adjust to the inevitable hurt. If I'm to return to my gym analogy, by accepting that I am no longer as strong as I once was, I can in fact produce a more productive workout by lifting less, but lifting it correctly.

The next few weeks, and perhaps months, are going to be extremely difficult. The hurt that I will undoubtedly feel will be unbearable, and it will be, for the most part, constant. Things are going to get far worse before they get better. 

Yet, perhaps God, in His infinite and often indiscernible ways, has brought me through so much so that now, while I may not be the strong, stable, immovable rock I once envisioned I would be, I am finally fully aware of who I am as a person - the positives and negatives.

I am reminded of a passage from the New Testament where the apostle Paul in his letter to the Corinthians mentions a weakness in him that has bothered him for a long time like 'a thorn in the flesh', and how he had asked God many times to take it away from him. Paul never mentions what it is that he is struggling with, but God answers him and says "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness."

As I read this passage, I try to claim it for my life, and I tell myself that while I am not strong enough to deal with the pain, the hurt and the struggles I will go through in the future, I can rest assured that I will bear witness to God's strength in my many areas of weakness.

Perhaps, sometimes, strength is a measure of your ability to admit your weaknesses.

"Mighty, Mighty" : The Power Of The Mob

It has been an unsettling couple of days in the city of Manipal, India. I use the term 'city' here very liberally however, as Manipal is more a student suburb, an elevated hamlet saturated with universities ranging from medicine to management to hospitality to engineering. The most famous of these are the Kasturba Medical College and the Manipal Institute of Technology; I was a proud student of the latter.

On the 10th of March, 21-year-old Ishan Nihalani, a second year engineering student suffered a serious head injury when he fell off the footboard of college bus on the way to class. Four days later, due to complications, he succumbed to his injuries. Immediately after this, the student council raised several issues with the director of the university, asking for disciplinary action against the reckless bus driver as well as to address the issue regarding the inadequate number of buses providing transport from the hostels to the university, a point which had been brought up repeatedly in the past. The MIT campus has banned all forms of private transport for the last 5-6 years, leaving students with only two options to get to class from their hostels - take the college bus or walk the 1.5km to 2km distance from the hostels to the classrooms. However, there are just not enough buses to accomodate all the students, a situation further exacerbated by the newly appointed director's decision to double the student intake of the college this year.

The details of what happened next are, at best, somewhat conflicting, but the consensus is that the director not only refused to acknowledge the role of the bus driver and the college in this accident, but instead laid the blame solely on the student for being late to class. If he had not been careless and had been on time, apparently, he would not have died.

This careless remark set off a riot among the student body, as grieving classmates and friends joined with agitated seniors to destroy property and then form a 2000 strong mob outside the university building, demanding the resignation of the director. Police were called in, as well as the Vice Chancellor of the university to negotiate with the student council and the director. After several hours, the Vice Chancellor appeared to the vocal mob, and announced that the director has resigned.

The video can be seen below.

It would seem unfathomable that the director of an educational institute would speak so flippantly regarding the life of one her students, but I for one am not at all surprised. Many times in my own experiences, the management and board of most large educational institutes in the Asian sub-continent view the student body as an agitated, lazy, undeserving collection of rich, spoilt children. Rarely do they see them as individuals who have specific needs and weaknesses, much less human beings eager to learn. An incident like this, no matter how innocent the victim, is immediately chalked up to negligence on the student's part, as the college does its best to wash its hands off from anything that besmirches the university's reputation, thus putting the names and jobs of the staff and faculty above the needs and rights of the students they teach.

This whole fiasco leaves me with very mixed emotions. On the one hand I'm disgusted that a person like the now former director of MIT could ever reach such an esteemed post while clearly having no connection with the student's that walk through her halls. This is not some petty revolt regarding raised hostel fees or some boycott of a campus club; this is the death of a student. But as I mentioned before, I am not at all surprised, for it seems that this sort of detachment is a prerequisite for the job. When I was in my second year, a senior had died in a car accident. When his friends approached the director at that time to inform the parents, he coldly picked up the phone in front of them, and said "Sir? Your son is dead, please come and collect the body."

On the other hand, I feel a great sense of pride in the student body at MIT. I don't condone violence or vandalism, and I have often denounced the petty protests that we had in college as being excessive (we once went on strike because the mess food wasn't tasty). But given these circumstances, I'll tell you now, I would have been right there in the middle of that crowd, chanting "Resign!" just like everyone else. I'm proud that for once, the students rallied together for a worthy cause, and for once, justice, however mediocre, was served.

We as Sri Lankans should take note of these events as well, for our universities are more famous for their protests and strikes rather than for any real academic achievements. In fact, the only times we hear of anything newsworthy from these bastions of local education is when some student is either ragged or if there is a strike by the student body. Ragging especially has only escalated in the last few years, with more students being physically and emotionally (and in some cases, sexually) abused while the perpetrators are allowed to go scot-free. No actions are taken to prevent these incidents, no one is held accountable, and the educational system of the country continues it's slow but steady decline. Somewhere, it has to stop, yet sadly the few academics who are genuine educators at heart are few and far between.

If you watched that clip, you can hear towards the end of it the vice chancellor imploring the students to please go back to class the next day, now that their demands have been met.

Wherever Ishan is, I'm sure he wishes that he could comply.

Step Away From The Computer.. Slowly.

We are living in a very technologically advanced age, and we should be grateful for that. Here I am, blogging on my laptop, while in the background I'm live streaming an NBA game happening across the world, listening in on thousands of peoples instant reactions to the same game via Twitter, sharing my opinions through my smartphone while on the go - and this is all rather low-tech by today's standards. Just the other day, my twitter feed suddenly erupted about some basketball player performing an insane dunk in the game. Literally 5 minutes later, the video had been uploaded to Youtube and I was able to see it for myself. Five minutes!

You can check it out here by the way; quite aptly known as "The dunk that broke twitter".

We're starting to see things in real life that have only been imagined in movies and science fiction. Fantasies which were once envisioned for decades or centuries in the future are being tentatively showcased at expos in Korea and Japan as we speak. Just ten years ago, it would have been almost impossible to imagine the technology that is now available at my very own fingertips.

But with every giant step for mankind, there are the odd negatives.

We can all agree that the internet has radically changed our lives, be it in the form of entertainment, information, research, networking or communication. But thanks to the internet, how many of us go to the library anymore? In fact, it's not just educational reading that has suffered; nowadays reading a book can take what is now considered an ungodly amount of time, especially since we are used to short and sweet bursts of information through internet reading.

In fact, the attention span of the average individual has drastically reduced in the recent few years. Even watching a full length movie is a chore, because we're so used to 30 min condensed stories in the form of TV shows on-demand. Writing emails are laborious tasks, especially since a simple 'poke' on Facebook or a short "Whats up?" on someones wall would suffice. Reading newspapers are just so complicated. I mean, how do you hold all these sheets of paper together? Argh, it's SO much easier to just click links! As for actual letter writing? Who does that anymore? I know some people who were incredulous that the job they were applying for required an actual snail mail letter instead of an email application.

This really annoys me. It's almost as if no one has the patience to do anything even remotely time consuming. We plan our trips so that we're back home in time for our favourite show. We are appalled that some actions in life require actual physical interaction, such as bank transactions. Exercise is too much work. I mean, 6 months for a 6 pack? Please - everyone is looking for how to lose weight in 3 weeks, how to get a beach body in 15mins a day, and how to get in shape by sitting on the couch and letting a machine vibrate against your pot belly.

It irks me. I was reminded about my Malaysia trip last year, where we pretty much backpacked for a week. Being cut off from the internet and luxury in general was a pleasant break. I sat with my two friends late into the night, talking and laughing more than I had in years, mainly because I had never taken the time to do so while in my routine-filled life back home.

I recommend that we all try this every now and then. No, not go to Malaysia and go on 3 day hikes. I mean, take a time-out from our speedy lifestyles and just find the time to relax and reconnect with the physical world around us. Talk to people, read a book, go for an actual walk instead of running on a treadmill. Get some fresh air.

Live.

The Melomanic Sessions: A Brief Recap

So the Melomanic Sessions last Sunday at the Warehouse Project was fun! It was just a little over a couple of weeks back that Asela asked me to perform, so picking out a 3 song set was a bit more stressful than I would have liked. Still, after practising after work for a week, I felt somewhat confident turning up on Sunday.

The Warehouse Project is seriously the perfect location for a stripped down, acoustic show - especially considering that the warehouse itself has sections that are in various stages of being stripped down as well. The large open hall, the warm lighting and echo-filled acoustics are begging for nice, clean and precise music. We started a little late but not nearly as late as the earlier show, and by some luck of the draw I had been pencilled in to open the proceedings.

It was definitely a fun experience! Opening can be a bit of a curse however; I'm sure a majority of the audience completely forgot my performance after hearing the serious talent of our other guests. From original compositions to The Beatles to Live to Adele to The Cranberries, from pianos to guitars to flutes to cellos, there was no shortage of variety. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I say this not just because I was playing! In fact, once the pressure of performing was removed, I was able to sit back and really appreciate some great local talent.

I've yet to upload the videos for my performance but they should be up by the weekend. Unlike past videos, you'll (finally) be able to see me while I sing instead of my animated fingers and torso. Enjoy it while it lasts! Until then though I've attached the Soundcloud recording of the set, I hope you like it!

A couple of pictures from the show; all except the first picture courtesy of T.

Gehan's Set by themelomanicsessions 

Edit: Finally uploaded the videos, so linking them here.

 

Enjoy!

An Uneasy Christmas

Christmas is one of my favourite times of the year, for very selfish and obvious reasons - holidays, and lots of presents (my birthday is a few days before Christmas). Yet, I am not alone when it comes to general euphoria regarding the month of December. There are an avalanche of Christmas parties, promotions, sales, events and decor. It's nigh impossible to not feel 'christmassy' - the feeling is almost literally shoved down your throat come December 1st.

However, this year I have felt rather uneasy about the festive season. The occasional Christmas tune on the radio only annoyed me, and the hopeless radio commercials with people going "Ho ho ho Santa says buy this ho ho ho!" made me want to remove my ear drums. The very dark Sri Lankan males in their very white Santa masks made me pity the poor children that would be on the receiving end of their attempts at being jolly. 

No, something was just off this year, and I couldn't put my finger on it. Whatever it was though, it has stayed with me till today, and as a result my Christmas morning is just another late, late night. 

My cousins from India are down for the holidays and they were commenting on how lavishly decorated Colombo was, and how surprised they were that a Buddhist country like ours would celebrate Christmas so enthusiastically. Yes, Colombo is all lit up, but as with almost everything in our nation's capital, it is more a cosmetic illusion than anything of real substance. Streets are lit up and shops are illuminated, simply because they know our buying masses are more likely to flock to the better lit store. Our hotels desperately put together manger scenes and reindeer, so that their paying foreign guests get just a taste of Christmas 'back home', despite choosing to be thousands of miles away. Pavements are filled with Cyprus branches, despite there being a ban on the selling of them, because everyone wants a Christmas tree in their home, just to decorate. Radio stations play awful versions of Christmas carols and hymns, label it the 'christmas song of the hour', followed by a brief message from a sponsor. It is all fairly nauseating.

Being a Christian, celebrating Christmas is pretty understandable, but I've always wondered why others do. At our carol programme at work, the Catholic priest's speech was followed by a short speech by a Buddhist priest who was invited too. My Sinhala is abysmal, unfortunately; I wish I knew what he said. I recently asked an non-Christian friend of mine and she jokingly told me that I couldn't keep Christmas to myself, and that we had to 'share' it. Is that what we're doing? Am I simply unwilling to 'share' this special holiday? My instinct is to say 'no', but it is a point to ponder.

So while I am still somewhat confused about the festivities this year, I can say that I am glad to be home for Christmas. I'm fairly boring that way; I feel that Christmas and New Year's need to be spent with family, and not with friends. I'm also glad that I'm not in Colombo, with its almost desperate attempt at being Western and cosmopolitan. I'm glad that the presents I wrapped today had real meaning, and were not simply out of necessity. I'm glad that while my Facebook feed is filling up with pictures of  'Christmas parties' with drunk guys and girls in 'slutty Santa/elf' outfits, I will be celebrating in a more sober, and yet (at least for me) more real way - with reflection, love, prayer and gratitude.

Of course, at the end of the day, I am no one to judge. To each his own, and to all, a very Merry Christmas.