Entries from March 2012 ↓

The bird- not lost

(Harshaji Asela Photo)

It was like a spring day, suddenly. Though, winter was not over yet. Shadows of a threat of rain shrouded the sky, while I was coming home. At the usual bend I saw a bird fluttering in the streaming dark. Lost? Perhaps not lost- I did not know. It was alone but maybe not lonely. Who knows! Maybe it has just escaped from the triangle going home. To some home is not home.
I don’t speak bird so I talked like a stupid woman.“ Hello tweety birdeeeey…..” it wrinkled its beak giving me ‘wtf’ look. I backed off.
I: “ok dude, you drunk? If you are in trouble you can tell me.” It didn’t even give a wry face. Just went about fluttering. I parked the car on the wrong side close to the fire lane. I turned the hazard lights on like my neighbors who are so determined to carry their local hearts everywhere they go in the world. At first I was disgusted about this cultural habit but then I learnt in my own native place one ex first lady goes to ‘pola’ and turns her hazard lights on, so that she can shop while inside the car. She just asks the vendors to bring the goods to her. Now some elite and wannabe elite ladies following the ex-first lady block the road at delkanda pola stretch on Sundays. I took some photos this time, thinking how exotic that is.
Anyway, I cleared the throat “brov, if you are high and don’t wanna go home, you can crash on ma couch, we can phone your parents or do whatever it is necessary”
Then it turned “hey soul sister, I appreciate yo charity. But I’m cool. Let me mind my own piss and you Just chill ok! My eye balls popped. “No offence!” He added making a v sign with its beak. ‘Peace!’
“OMG! How dare it.., so brown and tiny and punkish but this black inside?” I thought.
Will I give up? I am the adult here. If I leave him here i’ll be tossing and turning in the bed tonight wondering what might happen to the tiny thing. I am supposed to bring it home, give it some food, water and a place to sleep then in the morning I can look for the nest. At least I can put it on high branch of a tree for it to fly away for the sake of my unflagging conscience.
I followed it on the side walk. It started to laugh like a peacock. Then it stopped. I bumped in to it.
“You were not maintaining the safe distance. Not my fault. If you hit behind it is your fault. I passed the driving test” It winked.
“What I’m saying is, a lost bird can’t give directions to another lost bird and I’m not lost. Period!
I walked back and got in the car. I drove close to the bird then honked and signed to get in.
“jees! you are just like my parents. Honking in a residential area? Go back to where ever you came from”. Then it hopped into the car and buckled up. I smiled.
“What so funny here?” It was questioning me as if I was in its car.
“I know you are not suicidal or anything. What happened?”
“Not yer fucking business” Then it paused but told me “I’m a legal adult but my folks don’t get it. Life sucks big time because of this so called selfish love and cultural bonds”
“I know”
“You know?”
“yeah! Sometimes after fights I take off in cold nights hoping never to return but I have to. I suck it up and come back pretending I only went for a stroll.”
“I’ll go homeless but I’m not a chicken”
“I’m a chicken but stay with us tonight”
The bird agreed. I gave it some rice and water and a blanket. In the morning it told me “Thank you. You know what. I’ve left home several times but when night becomes velvety black and roads are empty it freaks you out. Then you had to get back to the shit hole. No choice. You put your dignity in the back pocket and walk in to their empire. You can’t reach the back pocket for the dignity they will shower you with bullets like cops justifying that you were reaching for a gun. Sometimes I wish I had one to blast my own brain. Thanks again sister.”
“Where will you go?”
“I’m gonna tell them that I’m moving out” The bird smiled. “No hard feelings!”
I made a v with my fingers and placed on the chest. It nodded and hopped away!

Strange Season of Flowers

How strange this
Season of flowers
Without flowers

Where birds tweet
Bees do not hum
Sun shines
Butterflies do not come

How strange this
Season of flowers
Which doesn’t make me long
To be in a white sundress
Barefoot caressing
new born sword tips

How strange this
Season of flowers
A gardener demanding
A child to climb down from a tree
While searching for the flowerets.

උවමනා හැටියට

උවමනා හැටියට
ඇඟිළි තුඩගින් අල්ලා
තිරය සකසන
තෙල්දමා හිමිහිට
දැවෙන්නට රිසි ලෙස
සුළඟත් මුවා කරවන
ඒ අය
උවමනා හැටියට
කටින් පිඹලා
පහන නිමන

In Seraglio

They call them concubines or wives
Abducted, kept and treated as slaves
In Seraglio
They ought to shut up and carry on
Dress, dance be nice but be not wise
Just like very good wives

මේ වසන්තෙදි

අරුණ කිරණට මේ වසන්තෙදි
පුංචි චෙරි මල් පිපෙන්නැහැලු
හීන් හුළඟට පොකුරු ලිහිලා
පෙති එකින් එක වැටෙන්නැහැලු
බලන් හිටියට වැස්ස විතරයි
ඉන්ද්‍රචාපය ඇඳෙන්නැහැලු
හවස් යාමෙට ළසඳ ඇවිදින්
ළසෝ ගිනි දැල් මකන්නැහලු