මිනිස්සු

නොදන්නා කරුම වල විපාක විඳ විඳ,

ඉන්න කල්ම නොවිඳි සැප හොයන,

හිටි හැටියේ නොකියාම සමුගන්න,

සංසාර නාටකයේ රූකඩ.

ඇගේ වෛරය

ඉඩෝරයට වට වැසි පොදක් වන්නට

ඒ වැස්සෙන් පනනළ රකින්නට

ඈ පිට වුනා වැලි කතරට

පිපාසයට දිය සොයන්නට

එහි වූ සුල්තානොත්තම මන්දිරය

ඉදිරිපිට නැවතී ඇය

සෙවුවා පිහිටක්

පපු තුල දුක් ගිනි නිවන්නට

දර දිය ඇදපන්!

බැල මෙහෙවර කරපන්! 

සිටුතුමෝ රැකපන්

දිය ඕනෑ නම්

ඈගෙ දරු මතක් වී

ළය ගිනිදැල් ඇවිලී

උණු කඳුළින් දෑත් තෙත් වෙද්දී

ඈ තනිව හැඬුවා, මූසල රෑ ගෙවෙද්දී

වියැකෙනතුරු ඇගේ තුරුනු රුව

රළු වනතුරු මුදු දෑත

දස වසක් ගෙවෙන තුරු

මෙහෙවර ඇය දිය ලැබෙන තුරු

කොට දස වසක් බැලමෙහෙවර,

ලැබුනු දිය පොද රැගෙන

වැලි කතර මැඩගෙන

ඇය ගියා දරු සොයාගෙන

යන විට ඇය ගෙදර

සිටියා ඇගේ පුරුෂ රත්නය

දොරකඩ වෑටීගෙන

කට ගොන්නක් බීගෙන

"කොහෙද මූසලී තෝ ලැගහිටියේ?!"

තෝ මකබෑවුනා කියලයි මං උන්නෙ!

අහවල් එහෙකටද රා කලය ගත්තේ?

පීරී තිබුනු රා ටික ඇයි මේකෙ නැත්තේ?!"

"මගේ කරුමෙටයි තොට මම රැවටුනේ

පවුල රකින්නයි කතරේ දුක් වින්දේ

එහෙවු මට තෝ මෙහෙමද සලකන්නේ?"

රා නෙවේ තොට මම වහ කදුරු දෙන්නේ!"

විඩාබර මගේ හිත

වේදනාව සිරකර

ඒ විලාපය නෑසෙන පරිදි

අගුළු ලෑවෙමි 

චිත්ත ස්කන්ධයට

හද පත්ළේ ඒ වේදනාව

විළි රුදාවෙන් කෑගසන විට

බිහිරෙකු වූවෙමි

එම ශෝකාලාපයට

මිතුරන්ට මැදිවුනද

තනිකම රජයනකල

වටහා ගත්තෙමි

මා තනිවී බව

කියන්නට වෙර දැරුවත්

වැටහෙන කිසිවෙක් නොවූ කල

තනිවම අස්වසා ගත්තෙමි

මගේ දුබල හිත

කම්මැලියාගේ පාපොච්චාරණය

එක්විසි අවුරුද්දක්
ගල් බොරළු මාවත් මතින්
වැටි වැටි නැගිටිමින්
ඇවිද ආවත් මං,
මදකට නැවතෙමින්
ආපසු හැරී බැලු කල්
ආ මග කෙටි බැවුත්
යා යුතු මග දුර බැවුත්
දුටුවා සුසුම් හෙළමින්,
තවමත් නැවතී
අන් අය මා පසු කරමින්
ඉදිරියටම යන සැටි
බලාගෙන හිටියත්
මට මහන්සී දැන්,
"බාධක පරයමින්
නොනවතී ඉදිරියට
යන්නට සිතට දිරි ගන්"
කීවත් මා මිතුරන්
නැවත අරඹන්නට ගමන්
මට ශක්තියක් නෑ දැන්,
සමහරෙක් මා පසු කරමින්
සමච්චලයට හිනැහෙමින්
"ආන් දුබලයක්!"
ඇසුනත් එවදන්
නෑසුනා ක් මෙන්
තවමත් එතනමයි මං,
දිගු වැඩි නොවෙද මේ මග?
අවසන කරා යන්නෝ තුටු වෙත්ද?
අවසන යනු ඇරඹුමම බව
ඔවුහු නොදත්ද?
කම්මැලියෙකුව මග නැවතුනු
මම නරුමයෙක්ද?

වැරදුනු තැන

මොකද්ද ළමයෝ මේකේ තේරුම?

ගෙදර එන්නෙ හැමදාම

මහ රෑ ජාමෙට

කෑමක්වත් බීමක්වත් නෑනෙ හරියකට

එහෙම තමයි අම්මේ රස්සා කරනකොට

වැඩ ක්නදරාව ගොඩ ගැහෙනකොට

මහන්සියෙන් තොර දියුණුවක් නැතිකොට

ඉවසමු අම්මේ අපි, යන මග තව දුර කොට

අනේ අපිත් නොකරපු රස්සා

කියයි අම්මා මා නොරුස්සා

දියුණුවේ හිනිපෙත්තට නැග යුතු හන්දා

රස්සාවට යමි හීන හිත රන්දා

කාලයත් ගෙවිලා කාටත් නොදැනීම

ඒත් ඉවර නෑනෙ දිවිල්ල තවම

හැරිලා බලන්නවත් කාලයක් නැති අරුම

හිතාගන්න බෑ මට වැරදිච්ච තැන

Despondent

I continue to dream,

And follow the dim light of stars,
Convincing myself,

That everything will fall in place,
And there is still hope,

I tell myself,

Every dark cloud has a silver lining,

I have to be stronger, braver;

For there will be more rocks

Along this path,

I have to let it go,

For the melancholia is temporal,

But then so is bliss,

So is success,

So is fame,

You will never be content,
No matter the gain,
No matter the victory,

There is no end 

To the corporate ladder,
Because,

The sea only appears

To unite with the sky
At the horizon.

Pic: Courtesy of the internet

Sarah Kay: If I should have a daughter ...

Inspiration beyond words or metaphors....
Also, if I ever have a daughter, I am going to recite this to her.

If I should have a daughter

If I should have a daughter, instead of Mom, she's gonna call me Point B,
because that way she knows that no matter what happens,
at least she can always find her way to me.
And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands,
so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say,
"Oh, I know that like the back of my hand."
And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face,
wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach.
But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry.
So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn't coming,
I'll make sure she knows she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself.
Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers,
your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I've tried.
"And, baby," I'll tell her, "don't keep your nose up in the air like that.
I know that trick; I've done it a million times.
You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house,
so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him.
Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place,
to see if you can change him."
But I know she will anyway, so instead I'll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby,
because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix.
Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix.
But that's what the rain boots are for.
Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.
I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind, because that's the way my mom taught me.
That there'll be days like this.
♫ There'll be days like this, my momma said. ♫
When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises;
when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape;
when your boots will fill with rain,
and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment.
And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you.
Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away.
You will put the wind in winsome, lose some.
You will put the star in starting over, and over.
And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.
And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive.
But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar.
It can crumble so easily,
but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.
"Baby," I'll tell her, "remember, your momma is a worrier, and your poppa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more."
Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things.
And always apologize when you've done something wrong.
But don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.
Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing.
And when they finally hand you heartache,
when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street-corners of cynicism and defeat,
you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.

When life throws shit at you....

I don't know what this is—I don't know if this is a poem or prose or a bunch of worthless ramblings. It was just spontaneous. While journeying on to pursuit happiness, you will most definitely encounter countless set backs and hard falls. But, always believe in yourself and have faith and know that one day, you too will make it.  

When life throws shit at you,

Throw it back,

Or clean it with toilet paper,

Or drown in it and make a fool of yourself,

Make the saner choice,

When you fall hard,

And you think you have lost

All the strength to get up,

Know that,

That is when you are at your strongest,

When nothing goes right,

And there are blisters,

Every step of the way

To sore you,

Just keep running,

When the whole world is against you,

You are blamed

And Pulled down,

Get back up and,

Walk against the force,

When you are in the depth of sadness,

Look for that little silver lining,

And that last ray of hope,

Just take a deep breath
And be strong.

Excursion to the heart of southern Sri Lanka

In Galle Fort, time doesn't pass by (at least that is what I felt during my visit). The Fort or the old rampart has a unique beauty to it. The colonial architecture, still elegant in its form adds an aesthetic aura to the atmosphere around. Wandering in and around the Galle Fort made me reminisce how the city's beauty have been described in some of the books I read. And this is Galle Fort, from my third eye (Tried my best to do justice to capture the beauty of the grandeur city). 

An entrance to the Galle Fort

Tourists enjoying the bliss of sea bathing on a sunny Tuesday afternoon

Picturesque view of the ocean from the rampart 

The age old Galle Lighthouse, built in 1938

For the love of antiquities

Where the post office of the Galle Fort is housed today

Bet these would have many interesting stories in them. Old files from a deserted Notary's office.

Wandering around the streets of Galle

The grand edifice of the All Saint's Church, Galle Fort

Colours :)

Where the wounded will find solace

Along the paradise beaches of the 'teardrop of the Indian Ocean'

Tidal Wave

An old verse written on December 26, 2013 to be precise. It was the ninth year commemoration of Tsunami victims. I was seated at my computer at work, staring at the replaying images on the TV. Melancholic music was playing in the background as flashbacks of the disaster flashed upon the screen—vivid and bright—reminding me of what a tragedy it had been. This is not my story, but I think many out there will be able to relate to this.

It has been nine years,

Since I last went to the beach,

Since I last held myself

to the sea breeze, 

It has been nine years,

Since I walked along the sandy shores,

Holding his hand,

Whispering to each other, 

It has been nine years,

Since I made sand castles,

And indulged in the bliss,

Of my son's innocent smile,

It has been nine years,

Since the tidal wave

Stole my life, 

On a bright sunny morning.

Pictures- courtesy of the internet