My second week on Indie Ink. The challenge is at the bottom. Sorry, it’s a little too long… It was still dark when Roko headed towards the beach, tugging Ahil, his six year old son, under his arm. The fishermen were busy pushing their boats into the waters. The sun had not yet dawned. Roko couldn’t sleep. He was happy. ...
My sticker book, pencil and other stuff I finally got down to watching Harry Potter 7 part 2. It was sad, very sad. The saddest part of the whole movie to me (and I don’t know why this part was the saddest) was where McGonagall cast all those protective spells around ...
Another week on Indie Ink. It’s a poem this time… They stood in one long line, Some casting sly smiles, A few looking bold, and others, uptight As they waited patiently under the shinning light, Here were the final 10, The best of the lot, Fighting it out in the middle, to get their hands on the crown They were ...
Continued from here. Tomorrow came, She kept watching his window. Moments passed by. She waited. An hour… Two… Three days… A year. And then, He was gone Just like he had come. No one saw him go, just like no one saw him come. She replayed the conversations between them, all of which had taken place in her head, clinging ...
Mullaitivu Beach The beach in Mullaitivu is beautiful. It’s so calm, so serene. I stood there with mixed emotions, A beach so pure, untouched, yet also wounded By the callous acts of a few, It was in contrast to what we saw on our way here Things best not seen or spoken of, But there’s [...]
What are walls made of? Brick and cement? Or Hatred? A hunger for power, A disgusted desire to oppress? divide? Who toils over them? Who stands on the side? Whose blood, sweat and tears? To satisfy whose fears? What does it take to build a wall, and what does, to break it down, to make it fall? Whose blood, sweat and tears then? ...
It’s been a while now Will you come? Soon… would be good. Am I asking for too much? But you promised, you would come on this day That day has passed. Did you forget me? Please tell me that’s not so. I’ve been thinking of you, Of what life would be If only You came… I’m waiting Staring bleakly at ...
Saturday’s match wasn’t the best of matches to be at. It was more like being a spectator to a scene where a talented, but helpless group of people were ripped, demolished and made a mockery of by the “more powerful people” – or seeing the extent to which they have. Ok, maybe that was too harsh. The match wasn’t that ...
New York, oh boy, it’s just like in the movies! I was beyond excited when I got to know that I would be going to New York even though winter was just about trickling in and I hated the cold. It was just absolutely awesome. I was warned though that I would either love it or hate it. Well, fortunately, ...
This year’s Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to three women: Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Leymah Ghowee and Tawakkul Karman. It’s not often that this happens. It’s also significant. Not like Obama winning it. These women come from troubled regions. Sirleaf is the President of Liberia. The first female head of state in Africa. Ghowee, also from Liberia, is known for leading a ...
A journey that began with no purpose, Only filled with fun and frolic, Carefree entertainment Youthful excitement, foolish ambition, Ended Death, One of the two permanent fixtures in our fleeting journey, Second only to the love and the memories that will forever linger. Filed under: Uncategorized
It’s been a while since I last posted here. 2012 is half over, it’s scary how time flies. I’ve not done half the things I wanted to. But there’s only me to blame. I’ve been so lazy. Anyway, this is something I wrote some time ago, as sort of like an experiment to describe an object, i think it was a flower ...
I wish I could be strong Like you,And bold and spirited too,That I could discard, so easily, mercilessly,and without care,Everything about you, Like you did of me, I wish I could be strong Like her,That girl, over there,And bold, and spirited too,Torn and alone, scarred and bruised,She stands tall, Vowing to fight on. Filed under: Uncategorized
Outside, the rain had stopped thumping hard on the ground. A slight drizzle fell gently on the tar. It was still dark and eerie. Umbrellas were laid along a neat row beside the French windows. One by one, men and women started trickling in. I stood against the yellow walls of the corridor admiring a painting of the Evening Host. ...
I’ve read and listened to stories of women who have been abused by their husbands. Their stories are heartbreaking and also inspiring. I know women who suffer not in the same way, but just as much. They are not beaten, physically, by their husbands. Yet, they are humiliated, discarded and dismissed. They are shown no care. They are called names. Their ...
Why do I keep saying sorry to you? What did I do wrong? Correct me, but was it not you who wanted this? Oh, I get it now, my grave crime - To cling on to your every word, To believe that you loved me, Like you claimed, And of course, to love you back, Only to be left with ...
A few pictures of a mini road-trip. This was some months ago. During the Vesak holidays, to be precise. A long weekend was not to be wasted. Packed and excited, we set off, starting off along the Southern highway and.. oh well. A double rainbow, or whatever this sort of rainbow is called, following bouts of rain on the Southern highway ...
#orangeurworld – part of a campaign to ‘say no & unite to end violence against women’ Nov. 25 marks the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. It also signifies the start of the annual 16 Days of Activism against Gender-based Violence campaign. UNWOMEN states that according to 2013 data, globally 35% of women have experienced either physical and/or ...
This is Seeya. Last week, on June 30, he would have turned 100. He died a few months after he turned 98, just over one and a half years ago. He was born as the first World War was taking shape, and lived through a second, an independence for Sri Lanka, another brutal war and its end. Seeya was an ...
