tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-214240342024-03-07T19:30:53.867-08:00Mud GheckoI live in a swamp, in the country. Its quiet out there, just fresh air, and buffaloes and marsh birds. If you'd like to wake up and smell the wood fires, if you'd like to bathe in cold well water and eat good healthsome stuff that just grows wild, come stay with me...but leave those gadgets behind, pleaseUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger317125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-27671838142533938652024-01-22T09:41:00.000-08:002024-01-22T09:42:37.970-08:00Cat-dog Bunny: A lesson in gratitude<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-562a48c7-7fff-ddb5-ba15-29a4ac4db1de"><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjckb0CYvkjBc84lmmEZdbPstTOUwzZS8vkVH3pDFu4rChDiiMkbACaaB0-wq9szb7t4KKGZUdXDC2k_GHCuom3PSi84RFN29LNZcpNGJB9Hbsx7l9smpvqU6XetDYRajSf_aA1_6OKCDH54bpAMbvLUN19x3KRWQwx_Cn3R8e0Y-9ZGIKTQdC0tA"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjckb0CYvkjBc84lmmEZdbPstTOUwzZS8vkVH3pDFu4rChDiiMkbACaaB0-wq9szb7t4KKGZUdXDC2k_GHCuom3PSi84RFN29LNZcpNGJB9Hbsx7l9smpvqU6XetDYRajSf_aA1_6OKCDH54bpAMbvLUN19x3KRWQwx_Cn3R8e0Y-9ZGIKTQdC0tA=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7326979522639295698" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRHe8d9N4tQze7DiW642Mkm-4kJJufdiotHVgQvFMcQjllUJGtwBe_04K3ckqlnuqxReArcjR6UCRLCUgHDwTH_dJ1o1MFerBtAnWQsIP9-pKZAVI0w6oE_4PsjVpQwPNKaxOrj86RDWdrnD3iFvrw-tkMq_ugyUw8VUtr6xy5lpObwMorRvhyJg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRHe8d9N4tQze7DiW642Mkm-4kJJufdiotHVgQvFMcQjllUJGtwBe_04K3ckqlnuqxReArcjR6UCRLCUgHDwTH_dJ1o1MFerBtAnWQsIP9-pKZAVI0w6oE_4PsjVpQwPNKaxOrj86RDWdrnD3iFvrw-tkMq_ugyUw8VUtr6xy5lpObwMorRvhyJg=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7326979527189041250" /></a><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><br></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Remember the lockdown of March 2020? When things started to happen to you and you had no control over them unless you were rich and influential? Where regimes did things to people that were too absurd to comprehend but you just had to agree to their cruel tyranny? In Sri Lanka we were told that we could not take a vehicle to the supermarket but must walk there and walk back. And only one member per family could do this. I saw old people struggling to carry their food, pushing wheelbarrows. We went along with this, like sheep. Where governments all over the world suddenly started treating people with absolutely no respect as if they were so many ungulates, which of course they are, only until now there had been an illusion of free will….? Where people were told how they would inevitably choke to death and float down rivers because oxygen was in short supply…?Just to terrorise them and make them do what they were told? Well, surprise surprise - it worked. I was terrified. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">I did watch a lot of social media at that time and it had a very bad effect on me. Paired with untreated PTSD from previous experiences in Kenya(2 bloody coups), Uganda (Idi Amin vs the Asians), Sri Lanka during the LTTE time and during the JVP insurgence (30 years of violence, bombs and more mass graves than almost any other country in the world</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">) followed by a Tsunami which killed 200,000 people in my country - there was this development. And I was incarcerated in a building from which I could barely emerge without the terror of either germs or the military getting to me. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">2020 was the pinnacle of anxious paranoia as far as I was concerned. (and I'm only 52) </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Bunny found us just when I needed her.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She was an extremely weird somewhat smelly kitten, with a bob tail and a broken leg, which appeared to have been either caught by some machinery or she was born like that. The thing about the wound was that by its nature it could not heal until it was operated upon and this was in the middle of a pandemic where we had no access to vets. It leaked blood continuously and also seemed to be suppurating. It stank. But it probably didnt have nerves and so she didn't care.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Bunny was completely unstoppable. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Bunny has an attitude about life in general.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">It is a happy and cheerful attitude. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She simply delighted in life, and bounced gaily about on her remaining three legs regularly scraping the bleeding, pus leaking stump across our tiles and couch, completely ignoring her problems and reveling in her freedom….She had after all been living for a few weeks in a crockery cabinet because having been thrown by our nice religious neighbors into a house with 16 rescue dogs, that was the only safe place left. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Every evening in the middle of the pandemic, stuck in a building near the beach, my daughter and I would make it a family ceremony to go and sit on the rooftop watching the ocean. We had a few peanuts and rice crispie biscuits which we had ordered online because we were privileged people with internet and online banking. We talked about what we would do when we got through this. Maybe run away to the hills. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Bunny would catapult out of whichever room she was in, and skid her way up the stairs to join us, not wanting to be left out of our family event, for a moment. Once on the rooftop she would twirl around and roll on the warm cement floors deliriously happy in spite of a bleeding moldy stump. She wanted to give all of us her love so she would try to spend equal amounts of time near the feet of each family member. She also plainly enjoyed the rooftop. Nothing could hold this kitten down! She wanted to be a part of this party! I would meditate with the hypnotic Shri Shri Ravi, we would discuss the meaning of life and impending doom and Bunny would purr and head butt us from under our legs as we sat on low wooden stools on the rooftop. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">I dreaded having to re-bandage her stump three times a day, and I found it incredible that she could lose so much blood (and pus) all over the floors and still be quite cheerful. She was infected, so it hurt and the cleaning ceremony involved some growling and swiping with claws. We worried that she would come of age and we couldn't fix her in the midst of lockdowns. And that there would be minibunnies. The thought added to my nightmares and anxiety, but she remained completely cheerful and matter of fact. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Bunny distracted me from my own paranoid meanderings. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">And over the course of the pandemic as lockdowns came and went and various terrible things drifted over our planet and about 4-6 million people died horrible deaths, Bunny survived because she was a survivor. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She didn't have a tail or four limbs but she did have us to love her. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She bounced across rooftops as I watched close to apoplexy, because between our roof and the next roof there was a pack of angry German Shepherds kept for backyard breeding and if she lost her balance she would fall directly into their jaws….She insisted on her freedom. </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><br></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Have you read that cats need their tails for balance? That must be nonsense because Bunny has no tail and only three and a half legs and she balances fine as she parkours onto the neighboring roofs. She still does it and at least I've given up worrying. Definitely some daredevil leather clad biker-chick reincarnated….</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">We advertised to give her away because our policy is to make room for further rescues. But no one wanted some silly constipated looking half-cat. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Of course, if you even imply that she is disabled that is nonsense too because she is as frisky as any normal kitten and somehow much more agile, sensitive, intelligent and in a word, DOGLIKE. Time passed, lockdowns opened up, we got her leg amputated and fixed her and then realized that we had no intention of parting with her. She had grown into our little family, firmly settling into our hearts and we could not give her away. We were beyond that stage. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Bunny has attitude about food. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She will not eat anything processed by humans. No biscuits, ice cream, milk, condensed milk, cheese, you name it she won't eat it, and as for those factory produced dry pellets, </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">purrish the thought. </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Except for a particular kind of fish, called Bollo which is expensive and we have to drag home, in rain or shine. That is all. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">She has attitude about Her Chair. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">If anyone sits in it she will stare them out of it, politely and pointedly. With a steady almost accusatory gaze. It's HER chair. The one next to the balcony door with a good view of all family happenings.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">As I write this, she's out there on the stairs monitoring the neighborhood in the moonlight, and checking out the various cat calls from nearby houses. Of all the cats we have adopted or rehomed, it's safe to say Bunny is simply the most unique, in personality, temperament and absolute charm. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">And we are so grateful for Bunny, coming in at the time she did, when we badly needed her happy-go-lucky good cheer and unapologetic, furry adoration: There's nothing quite like having a cat come racing at you and crash into your shins when excited.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">So to anyone else she may look nothing impressive, a broken, lopsided half cat- but to us, she is a character in a million…</span></p></span><br class="gmail-Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature"><div dir="ltr"><div><br></div></div></div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-32659483839509864762023-11-21T05:36:00.000-08:002023-11-21T05:37:01.116-08:00Who knew there are toilet spells???<div dir="auto">DABBE was...absolutely refreshing in terms of horror fare. Unusual, original, authentic, wildly unpredictable, (which is difficult when one has been there done that in terms of every kind of nightmare film or book around...) and set in one of my favorite lands, Turkey. From the first few minutes you knew it was going to be good. Theres much to resonate with the Eastern horror fan that you dont find in any kind of Western fare ( including massive clumps of damp decompsing "drain" hair being vomited by people and decomposing cattle skulls- which I know is a thing in Sri Lanka because my husband said he had offers for the skulls of his family's buffaloe herd when they had got ill and died) ....this was absolutely fascinating for me, because previously Id always thought of ddjinns as rather standardised and regular...and Id never watched a film featuring a Muslim excorcist!!! Move over Nun, Polterguiest and frankly any other western fare, because this tradition was way more familiar, where I come from. DABBE is also, terrifyingly, based on actual events and Nadeesha and I had to dim down the audio because we didnt want any part of demons invocation in original biblical languages, to enter our living room! and turns out thats a good thing because I later learnt that some of the demon voices had been retrieved from actual tapes from the cases!!!....(For good measure we decided to play Buddhist prayers and watch a comedy afterwards, thats how effective it was!) Twelve out of ten in terms of halloween horror fare, although it lost a point or two for its exaggerated shaky cameramanship (Blair Witch style) which always makes me nauseous and is the reason I could never get on the computer games bandwagon...and also there were inexplicable and much maligned pythons at one point just put there to add effect to anyone with snake phobias which didnt work on us because we love reptiles...(naga ganaya anyone?) But.....overall, if you want to be scared shitless and absolutely not know whats coming next and also be affected in a visceral way, this is a treat worth waiting for. What can I say, dont do this at home, alone ....<br><div class="gmail_chip gmail_drive_chip" dir="auto" style="min-height:18px;background-color:rgb(245,245,245);padding:5px;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial;font-style:normal;font-weight:bold;font-size:13px;border:1px solid rgb(221,221,221);max-width:375px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:8px"> <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1NDlAsThSfeaBjdmvCEczazfSqD7JyXw2/view?usp=drivesdk" class="template_drive_chip" target="_blank"> <img style="vertical-align:bottom;border:none" src="https://ssl.gstatic.com/docs/doclist/images/icon_11_image_list.png"> <span style="color:#15c;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:bottom">LOL-Demon.jpg</span> </a> <div aria-label="Delete button, double tap to activate" class="chip_delete_button"> <div class="chip_delete_button_icon"></div> </div> </div> <div dir="auto"><br></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-27076277609550315212023-11-09T08:09:00.001-08:002023-11-09T08:09:57.774-08:00Cultural Horror from Turkey<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-c3017ad9-7fff-a23d-2c9d-ebe43dc3d8cc"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX4JJagx3mwji_wh-zz0c9TUqegw_bmfm8ouhjzat85rx1izwVExEKwYbXfXHB0-rXvEuOwXUCc6g0t1N3-D7FxbPmhJiId72Q6H1v0n9tBWB-XJza_9tFdvSe0tZXhnOKCjFY5n88kc-PXNJwLsTJcZnsoBHwMKYh0xoG4t_yfOVp5eJ9blKQVA"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX4JJagx3mwji_wh-zz0c9TUqegw_bmfm8ouhjzat85rx1izwVExEKwYbXfXHB0-rXvEuOwXUCc6g0t1N3-D7FxbPmhJiId72Q6H1v0n9tBWB-XJza_9tFdvSe0tZXhnOKCjFY5n88kc-PXNJwLsTJcZnsoBHwMKYh0xoG4t_yfOVp5eJ9blKQVA=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7299495341904779490" /></a><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Dabbe" (also known as "Dabbe: The Possession") is a Turkish horror film directed by </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Hasan Karacadag</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">, released in 2006. The movie has made a significant impact on the Turkish horror genre, and it stands out for its unique approach to supernatural horror and its deep connection to Islamic and Turkish folklore.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The film's plot revolves around a group of individuals who find themselves ensnared in a series of inexplicable and horrifying events. The central characters, Kubra and Harun, along with their friends, become the targets of a malevolent supernatural force. As they delve deeper into the mystery, they seek assistance from a religious scholar, a psychiatrist, and a psychic to comprehend and combat the sinister presence that haunts them.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">What sets "Dabbe" apart is its profound exploration of Islamic and Turkish folklore, particularly the concept of "dabbe." </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">In Islamic belief, "dabbe" refers to malevolent supernatural beings capable of infiltrating the human realm and causing harm</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">. This concept serves as the core theme of the film as the characters experience increasingly disturbing and unexplained phenomena, including possessions, hauntings, and mysterious deaths.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The film excels in creating an atmosphere of tension and fear, keeping viewers on edge throughout the narrative. Hasan Karacadag's expertise in the horror genre is evident as he seamlessly combines elements of Islamic theology and Turkish superstitions to craft a genuinely eerie and unsettling experience.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Dabbe" has played a pivotal role in shaping Turkish horror cinema and has even spawned a successful franchise of films exploring similar themes. Its success can be attributed to its ability to resonate with Turkish audiences by blending supernatural horror with cultural elements deeply rooted in local folklore and beliefs.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The Significance of "Dabbe" in Turkish Cinema</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Dabbe" is a groundbreaking film in Turkish cinema for several reasons. It represents a shift in Turkish horror cinema by embracing supernatural and occult themes, which were relatively unexplored in earlier Turkish films. While Turkish cinema has a rich history of horror films, "Dabbe" introduced a new dimension to the genre by drawing inspiration from Islamic and Turkish supernatural beliefs. This approach made "Dabbe" both distinctive and culturally resonant.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Islamic and Turkish Folklore Influence</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">One of the most striking aspects of "Dabbe" is its profound connection to Islamic and Turkish folklore. The film takes inspiration from Islamic theology, Sufism, and local superstitions to create a narrative that taps into deeply ingrained cultural beliefs. The concept of "dabbe" is central to the film, and it derives from Islamic eschatology, where "dabbe" refers to a malevolent creature that will emerge in the end times.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The film draws upon various Islamic and Turkish cultural elements, including verses from the Quran and references to djinn, exorcism, and the evil eye. These elements are seamlessly integrated into the story, adding an authentic layer of cultural significance to the horror narrative. "Dabbe" effectively explores the fine line between faith and fear, and it engages with the audience on a cultural and psychological level.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Supernatural Horror with Cultural Authenticity</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Dabbe" excels in creating an unsettling and eerie atmosphere, setting it apart from typical horror films. The movie is not reliant on jump scares or gratuitous violence; instead, it builds tension and fear through an intricate narrative and a profound connection to cultural elements.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The film's approach to supernatural horror is deeply rooted in Islamic and Turkish beliefs, making it an immersive and authentic experience for Turkish viewers. By incorporating these cultural references and folklore, "Dabbe" resonates on a level that extends beyond typical horror movie tropes.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The Influence of Director Hasan Karacadag</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Hasan Karacadag, the director of "Dabbe," is a central figure in Turkish horror cinema. He is known for his expertise in the horror genre and has contributed significantly to shaping the landscape of Turkish horror films. His dedication to exploring the supernatural and his ability to create a sense of unease have made him a prominent figure in the industry.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Dabbe" is one of his most notable works, and it showcases his skill in crafting a tense and suspenseful narrative. Karacadag's ability to blend elements of Islamic and Turkish culture with horror themes is a testament to his talent as a director and storyteller. His influence on Turkish horror cinema is undeniable, and "Dabbe" remains a standout example of his contributions to the genre.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Impact and Legacy</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Dabbe" has had a lasting impact on Turkish cinema, particularly in the horror genre. Its success has led to the creation of a franchise of films that continue to explore themes related to supernatural entities, demonic possession, and unexplained phenomena. The "Dabbe" series has gained a dedicated following and has further solidified the film's place in Turkish popular culture.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The film's unique approach to horror, its cultural authenticity, and its ability to tap into the fears and beliefs of Turkish audiences have made it a significant landmark in Turkish cinema. "Dabbe" has shown that horror can be a vehicle for cultural exploration and reflection, and it continues to be discussed and celebrated by both film enthusiasts and scholars.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">In Conclusion</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Dabbe" is a Turkish horror film that has left an indelible mark on the country's cinema. Its exploration of supernatural horror, demonic possession, and cultural beliefs has set it apart as a unique and culturally resonant work. The film's success, the influence of director Hasan Karacadag, and its impact on Turkish horror cinema showcase its significance within the industry.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Dabbe" is more than a horror movie; it is a cultural exploration that engages with Islamic and Turkish folklore to create an authentic and unsettling experience. Its legacy as a groundbreaking and influential film in Turkish cinema is well-deserved, and it continues to be a point of discussion and admiration among film enthusiasts and scholars alike.</span></p></span><br class="gmail-Apple-interchange-newline"></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-86290422360675164562023-10-03T01:16:00.000-07:002023-10-03T06:46:38.380-07:00BLISS in the here, right now<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt;"><b>- </b>Chandrika Gadiewasam</span><br /></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj48AXdAD_kkPifSnsM8jL0VyAmfdP_bTmy-wEoDHxwf9IkXTkaN-q-o-Y5fLufnADiL7AYuHceLKISLPY4ay95qfqtlS1sL2Ft1bpGRfH230xxCGnPoxkkGGpdEriDnByigABGiDF8C-l1WI5Wa7UoHyxzpH7YRVwlYcfpUQ_Kx_ck9th8IOVbJg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7285643371802164210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj48AXdAD_kkPifSnsM8jL0VyAmfdP_bTmy-wEoDHxwf9IkXTkaN-q-o-Y5fLufnADiL7AYuHceLKISLPY4ay95qfqtlS1sL2Ft1bpGRfH230xxCGnPoxkkGGpdEriDnByigABGiDF8C-l1WI5Wa7UoHyxzpH7YRVwlYcfpUQ_Kx_ck9th8IOVbJg=s320" /></a><span face="Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif"></span><br /></div><div><div class="gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature" dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-92fcdad9-7fff-63d5-d695-8b5bfe5bdd3c"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">From human birth to death, in a maddening cyclical pattern of infancy, childhood, education, graduation, marriage, reproduction, aging and continuous drudgery to survive, through a whirlwind of meaningless traditions and festivals, milestones, new years, birthdays, weddings, and funerals, sickness and health... The human creature constantly seeks happiness and fulfilment and that SOMETHING….</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">But…. are we ever content with what we get ? Are there moments when TIME suddenly stands still near a lake, with just the wind in the trees, and the moon above, where we suddenly stop to think and wonder about the <span class="gmail_default" face="verdana,sans-serif"></span>m<span class="gmail_default" face="verdana,sans-serif">eaning </span>of life?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Where is this happiness or satisfaction that humans search for? How long does it last and how do you make sure that you can hold on to it? Haven't you actually tried until you </span><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">cried</span><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">? Wouldn't life be just perfect IF ONLY, if only you had that promotion/partner/child/ property/vehicle/ recognition/or appreciation that you couldn't? And then by luck, just as you finally got what you wanted, it turned out as unsatisfying, as aggravating and as plain empty as a soap bubble in the wind? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And yet….paradoxically could happiness in fact be found in the acceptance of just such emptiness and in the fleeting beauty of a rainbow coloured sud? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Let me explain<span class="gmail_default" face="verdana,sans-serif">.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Last week though I was privileged to accompany a set of seekers led by a different kind of teacher, on an intense journey into a higher consciousness. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The venue was among the heritage sites of Anuradhapura, the land of ancient kings and of power and splendor, now mercifully left mostly deserted by lat<span class="gmail_default" face="verdana,sans-serif">t</span>er day Sri Lankans who prefer the noise and traffic of modern cities. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The group was mostly a modern crew of successful Colombo/Kandy professionals, many from stressful highly paid jobs, a number of adventurous youngsters who were searching for something different to the usual, and some ordinary middle aged people like me who had seen a lot of suffering and needed to find escape from the continuous pain within.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The lockdown of Colombo a few months ago had taken a frightful toll on me, dragging me through the valley of death in my mind; curfews, lawlessness and injustices triggering long suppressed memories of terror, helplessness and abandonment and leading to full blown anxiety. ( I'd been in a bloody military coup in Kenya where curfews held implications of tyranny, torture and terror)<span class="gmail_default" face="verdana,sans-serif"> </span></span><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt;">The current too was a period of extreme stress in terms of work, income and health, usual unsatisfactory human conditions common to us all, but not any less painful for their familiarity.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Anuradhapura has always been to me a vaguely remote, dry far away Sri Lankan place with old earthen stupas. They are pretty amazing architecturally but I never understood what pilgrims want to see there, and frankly I still don't. I don't think I particularly want to live there, do you? The water is horrible, and infrastructure is not all that great, though the scenery is divine. Any Buddhist temple or really any place of worship is just as good as the rest, to me, I enjoy the cleanliness, silence and atmosphere and the leafy Bo Trees or any trees for that matter, and I can feel peaceful in the environment for a few hours maybe: but that's about it.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Then it begins. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">That maddening internal monologue. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">That voice in my head which tells me what I should be doing, why I have failed, why I should have done things a different way, why I could have been better if only someone or something did not cheat/abuse/obstruct/ aggravate me, how I am much better or worse than the next person, why these things always happen to me..until the voice tells me to hate people, to hurt myself, to try to be someone I will never be...and tells me that I would be happy anywhere else but here, and now. Have you heard this voice talk inside your head until it becomes deafening? Well...that just the way it is and it turns out that voice is a hallucination, and we can after all make it stop torturing us. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And that after it actually becomes silent... There comes a pause, however small, however light, of such brilliance, and such simplicity that we KNOW, in that moment. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And we know nothingness.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And somehow our awareness breaks beyond the skin of our earthly bodies and expands infinitely outwards...in a shimmering celebration of the limitless human potential for joy and fulfillment in the moment called the present.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And then we understand, it is possible to find bliss<span class="gmail_default" face="verdana,sans-serif">,</span> in the here, right now. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">……………………………………………………..</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">For more details on this life changing program you can contact me at hanwella7@gmail.com</span></p><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="gmail_default" face="verdana,sans-serif"><font size="1">Photograph from <a href="https://vocal.media/journal/basawakkulama-tank-sri-lanka">https://vocal.media/journal/basawakkulama-tank-sri-lanka</a> by Zeloan</font></span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></span></p><br /><br /></span></div></div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-52446886245732019302023-10-02T23:35:00.001-07:002023-10-02T23:35:55.158-07:00The Second Arrow.<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_cwqNPGtaUu2Og6JqjTO8QMtuAL2Ej-SyJ2B4Zl8O_R939aEJF2k1ObcKkZwHoT4RPygsKnWKxEiqVbMO1OqctT_OeiP2_AlLj2g5q52KaP8w8u13Ox5lPqxclG4OG2_lpZbKV90YPwQFWeMDwHJC8P1msNwBXMQ27_U19fu_OQgZ1wcOP23aSg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_cwqNPGtaUu2Og6JqjTO8QMtuAL2Ej-SyJ2B4Zl8O_R939aEJF2k1ObcKkZwHoT4RPygsKnWKxEiqVbMO1OqctT_OeiP2_AlLj2g5q52KaP8w8u13Ox5lPqxclG4OG2_lpZbKV90YPwQFWeMDwHJC8P1msNwBXMQ27_U19fu_OQgZ1wcOP23aSg=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7285617257122018322" /></a><br><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><b><span lang="EN-US">Life after Rape: Stay away from </span></b><b><span lang="EN-US">the Second Arrow. </span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">In Buddhism we are told that the mind is the forerunner of all conditioned things. A lot of pain is caused by our minds- which is indeed strange considering how many millennia we <i>homo erectus</i> spent trying to evolve a bigger and more intelligent brain. Have you seen a dog with TVT? It's a disease where the animals private parts become cancerous and end up becoming a bleeding, jellied, skinless, formless mass, you can google <i>TVT dogs</i>, if you want the visuals. I sometimes think that if we are to believe in reincarnation TVT may be the punishment meted out to reborn rapists. And I think of them with definite compassion. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">But have another look and you will realize that many of these animals don't seem affected by this horror, not even as badly as we are as onlookers. This probably isn't because they don't feel pain. But it could be because animals, way lower though they are in terms of intelligence, have not reached the stage where they are able to mull on the reasons for pain or to dwell on the effect pain has on their ego. Animals generally are good at living in the present moment. You give them something to eat, or they see a potential mate and everything else is forgotten. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">If you have ever been raped, there is a theory that an alternative thought process might help you. It tries to help with the emotional pain. The physical pain will probably end in a few days or weeks, our human bodies are quite resilient that way. Have you experienced a protracted childbirth or a chronic UTI or yeast infection? Those hurt like hell itself. After difficult childbirth there are sometimes perineal tears or fistulas which take months to heal- or maybe never do. If you talk to someone with a UTI or yeast infection, or kidney stones, the pain is real, maddening, and continuous. I've personally spent hours contorted into fetal position, on the bathroom floor writhing at the pain of a full-blown UTI, simply crying helplessly and I imagine other people have too. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">This doesn't mean for one minute that a violent gang rape is any the less horrifying. But there are two aspects to rape or in fact to any kind of pain and it can be said that the second aspect or the assault on a person's integrity, to her emotional autonomy is much more prolonged and horrifying than the physical aspect. It involves the affront to one's ego, the perceptions of stigma attached the whole "<i>how can I face society again?</i>" (Which is well fueled by Eastern society's attitudes in particular) and the inevitable resultant hatred of the attacker(s) <i>"how dare this person do this to me?"</i> as well as incredible amounts of self-loathing. <i>"I should have/could have done something different to avoid this attack, It's my fault."</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">This is what the Buddha meant by referring to the <i>Second Arrow.</i> This pain is actually in the mind and so will hurt much more than the actual physical pain of the assault did. This pain is a memory of pain that is not in the present moment. And this secondary pain is preventable. It requires two things, a change in attitude, and continuous mindfulness. The mindfulness part is needed to catch yourself going down those well-worn mental pathways that you always travel. It isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination. But this is a good example of a situation where loved ones, society and above all <i>your own mind</i> can become your worst enemy. The metaphorical second arrow is preventable pain, the pain that arises in the mind following physical pain. Often the physical pain is long gone and only a faint and uneasy memory, but the nightmares, the perception of that pain and the ego affronting circumstances of that pain are what torture us into the future. That is the second arrow which we refuse to take out. Needlessly. How can we begin to change that?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">Consider a woman who has had a protracted messy childbirth involving about 20 hours of intense pain, and blood and tearing. Human society finds a way to make this noble, heroic and the woman will come out of this rosy-cheeked, talking about how anything is worth it for her beautiful baby. The human mind, in the interests of successful procreation even numbs the memory of it and soon the same woman is ready for her next experience of childbirth which although it involves her body being torn in half and her private parts bleeding and being mangled, society has forcefully labeled as <i>"joyous".</i> There are women who cannot conceive spending years trying to get to this stage even if the expensive attempts end in bleeding miscarriages (not to mention years of savings being spent on it). But because it's a part of what we women are supposed to be doing <i>all of this is acceptable. </i>The complex human brain too colludes in this trickery: have you ever heard of a woman reliving <i>a nightmare of a protracted childbirth</i>? Never because apparently, there are chemicals that work to completely erase that memory. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">We are not so blessed when it comes to sexual assault, and even a relatively minor incident of unwarranted groping we receive on public transport can keep us traumatized, depressed and hollow for days. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">I can say to let it go because it is a metaphorical arrow not a real one, and I realize that may not be as easy as it sounds. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">But you need to take control of your mind and prevent it from working against you. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0cm 0cm 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span lang="EN-US">It can be done. </span></p></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-15295969930311376932023-08-30T05:48:00.010-07:002023-09-15T01:09:59.572-07:00MY QUANTUM PORTAL TO HELL<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Fifteen years of messing with proposals and deadlines and an uncoordinated head office- and this was officially the last straw that broke the camel's back.</span></i></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhp0ep3W6HW0wkdIFXl5fDCndMNbicitjZqSGqUmTn1xWAaWrxQsbY7s0RlNT16_AJ5XAhNeIprd8j5GH7uSqSq72_BPM_Vx4UcAKHItiwKR6ljWsHGY8U2bGgnR2oeEI_R1FNzcNlxZmeRIGiGG26qmooWw-dy5EKR3Tm_gVVOncDF-jw0sxc0UQ" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><img alt="" border="0" height="348" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7273096486939310978" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhp0ep3W6HW0wkdIFXl5fDCndMNbicitjZqSGqUmTn1xWAaWrxQsbY7s0RlNT16_AJ5XAhNeIprd8j5GH7uSqSq72_BPM_Vx4UcAKHItiwKR6ljWsHGY8U2bGgnR2oeEI_R1FNzcNlxZmeRIGiGG26qmooWw-dy5EKR3Tm_gVVOncDF-jw0sxc0UQ=w575-h348" width="575" /></a><br /><font face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">This cartoon is from </font><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Morten Morland Times</i></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So last week my team told me they were all working feverishly on a deadline to submit a bid to the United Nations supplier portal. Y<i>ou just have to upload it</i>, they said. <i>It will be ready very soon and we still have a day more</i>, they said. <i>Only you can do this techy part</i>, they wheedled. </span></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Well, I do know a thing or two about USAID and EU submission portals online, so I was suitably uncomfortable. The previous year a colleague and I had been struggling till 4 am in the morning ( which was a more reasonable time in New York) fighting with dodgy broadband and the tedious UN Atlas portal but we had had about a week to get familiar with that. Even then I had vowed I would not do this again. </span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Now the bad news was ATLAS had been shut down and QUANTUM had taken its place and I had only about 24 hours to check and edit the documents we were to submit as well as to get a grip on the portal. </span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">If you think you can upload your proposal in one of these portals a few hours just before the deadline, think again. </span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">First off we couldn't get through because someone in the office had the passwords and no one knew who. </span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">That's a long story itself. So after half a day hysterically trying to break into my own forgotten email accounts and find old passwords the local donor representatives informed us that the password was with<i><b> our Executive Director</b></i>, a brilliant man who on principle does not involve himself with IT functions. And why should he? But then... the next question is.. why should he have the passwords? That intellectual giant was in the middle of a string of high level policy formulation meetings and didn't fancy passing OTPs to me with annoying regularity. That's a different problem which we solved at the end of the day by begging for our own account. Until then if you left the computer for about half an hour the whole portal shut down and you had to call the person with the OTP passcodes. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If you think you can have lunch or go for a bath or even take a decent dump during this process, perish the thought. Do you want to keep disturbing a grouchy workaholic non -profit Executive Director ...?</span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But what about Tec Sup you may ask? For this proposal we had some wonderfully co- operative Sri Lankan officers - but then 1) for transparency reasons they cannot actually go inside our profile to help us and 2) during the previous submission during the new year season there was no one contactable and we were advised to write to Bangkok ... one letter took 4 days to reach us- my question being why cant the portal be made straightforward in the first place. With <span style="font-size: large;">large buttons</span> at the crucial points. with <span style="background-color: #fcff01; color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;">highlighted emphasis</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> on the important areas</span> and <i>without standards letters from the UN taking up half a page.</i>? </span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /><b>Steps to the Countdown</b><br /></span><ul><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Start by watching the 2 hour webinar on how to work with the portal. You need to watch the whole hundred minutes whether you want to enter a fully fledged 3 year contract to construct a dam in Burkino Faso or whether you just want to supply bananas at the canteen. Then there's <b><i>a hundred and eleven page </i></b>user guide which if you follow carefully, promises to explain this insanity. Even if you know your Office software and three programming languages this is still torture.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The whole <b><span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: white;">QUANTUM PORTAL</span> </b>does not allow bookmarks or links (because they want to be more secure than even HSBC) so there is no way to save any reference point to be able to get back to it - you will have to memorise the entire pathway of each time you want to reach a page. If you make a wrong turn you end up in a dead end and you cannot go BACK (there is no back button) Theres a DONE button but thats different. It means you did whatever you wanted to do but it doesn't navigate you away...</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Click <span style="color: #0b5394;"><u>Supplier</u><u> portal</u></span> in the Cover letter . It will be your launching point.(But it wont be in large letters or highlighted or anything. You will have to read the whole page to locate it ) It might be <span style="color: #0b5394;"><u>slightly blue</u></span>, but there are other blue text bits just to make the whole thing interesting. Like various <u><span style="color: #0b5394;">email links</span></u>...imagine searching for it an hour away from the deadline</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">In the Supplier portal at the left hand lower corner under NEGOTIATIONS, click MANAGE RESPONSES. This is a very important first step and of course the words will be <i><b>discreetly hidden at the bottom of the page</b></i> to throw you off. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">In the MANAGE RESPONSES page click your RFP (this is after you have searched for half an hour for the relevant RFP and then expressed your interest in it) There isnt an easy search feature. You have to adjust variables regarding the region, time period and whether you were invited to bid- one wrong answer and nothing happens. In your REQUEST FOR PROPOSAL PAGE you have to click <span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: white;"><b>CREATE RESPONSE</b></span>. You may want to know the difference between MANAGE RESPONSE and CREATE RESPONSE, because ultimately they seem to do the same thing (-which is draft your bid in stages- and thus could simply have been called <b><span style="background-color: #3d85c6;"><span style="color: white;">DRAFT YOUR DAMN BID</span></span>)</b>. Well its another of those mysteries and it was just done to confuse things. Just do as they say, after all Donors Know Best </span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">In the CREATE RESPONSE PAGE most of the page is taken up by a standard letter from the UN but there there are 4 discrete links in the left hand corner - Overview, Requirements, Line, Review...</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">If you click <b><span style="background-color: #3d85c6;"><span style="color: white;">OVERVIEW</span></span> </b>you get a page which is mostly white space but you can put the reference number and save something-and send any comment to the UN. That seems to be the whole point of the entire page. That and hosting other buttons which were repeated on all the other pages...</span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">In the <span style="color: white;"><b style="background-color: #3d85c6;">REQUIREMENTS</b></span> page in the right hand side is a <i>t</i></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i>iny</i> drop down menu with five sections - <i>General /Administrative/ Bidder Declaration / Technical</i> <i>Proposal /Financial Proposal </i>- each has sections that need to be edited and attachments need to be uploaded where I found a </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>tiny</i> discrete dull black plus sign </span><b style="font-size: large;">(+)</b> <span><span style="font-size: medium;">like my cats anus when she's not suffering from Irritable Bowel . Unlike her ass, the plus sign is about the size of a sodding </span><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">match-head</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"> so that you need a magnifying glass to find it, if you even begin to guess that an ass-shaped plus sign could be so fundamentally important. </span></span><span style="background-color: #6fa8dc;"><u style="font-size: large;">But without it you cannot begin to upload stuff </u><span> </span></span><span style="background-color: white;">Of course you would know how important it is if you had read the %#$@ manual, all one hundred and ten pages of it, but remember the deadline for uploading is only twenty hours away, thanks to miscoordinations between Admin and Finance etc etc </span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Then also in the REQUIREMENTS page there is a tiny line FONT SIZE 6 or something which says </span><span><span face="verdana, sans-serif"><span style="color: #990000;"><i>Kindly upload financial proposal documents in financial section (Financial Evaluation - Commercial) only. If your financial proposal is visible in any part of the technical section, your proposal will be disqualified</i>.</span><span> <span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span><span face="verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">NICE TOUCH United Nations, NICE TOUCH! although this probably also disqualifies anyone over 45 because we cannot read text at that size! </span>oh wait, did you know that if you hold down CTRL + Scroll you can adjust the size of what you are reading? No? Ok, well I did and it didn't really help me! </span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The <span style="background-color: #3d85c6;"><span style="color: white;"><b>LINES</b></span></span> page is because the UN sometimes needs one whole page of webspace to enter the budget total into one tiny box one inch across/ sometimes if they feel frisky they will ask for a breakdown based on deliverables... </span></li><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Most of the dialogue boxes are the size of one large sentence of text and have unwieldly scroll buttons, but the page is large and bare: In fact overall the whole QUANTUM portal has a lot of white space that feels as soothing as a strobe light in a mental asylum. I can feel my left eye twitching as I write this.</span></li></ul><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span face="verdana, sans-serif">Im sure the IT Crowd who developed it will have lots to say about their lovely secure portal. </span><span face="verdana, sans-serif">Trust me I welcome a debate on it: I WANT to be proven wrong by people who have used the site and found it lovely, functional, practical. </span></b></div></b></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b style="font-size: large;">What I did hear though is that a number of grassroots organizations </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(read, simple genuine people with actually functional ideas who don't know about the portals made-up jargon<b>)</b></span><b style="font-size: large;"> with proposals drafted in advance had <i>given up bidding when they came to the portal</i> simply because they didn't have technical people who could figure out that twaddle with a deadline looming over them.(or perhaps couldn't read the important print in font size 6) </b></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And these are just a few of my experiences over the space of 36 harrowing hours trying to upload a last minute proposal to help drought and/or conflict-ridden third world communities. </span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The more evil comments I feel like making have been self censored. </span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I will need a month of meditation to get over this one. </span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="mailto:hanwella7@gmail.com">hanwella7@gmail.com</a> </div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-32660426568603263722023-08-20T18:05:00.000-07:002023-08-20T18:06:32.560-07:00The housewives guide to competing for freelance work<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-6f60eea1-7fff-cfea-12be-2079578da2bd"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:15pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The housewives guide to competing for freelance work</span></p><ul style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px"><li dir="ltr" style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:15pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt" role="presentation"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Chandrika Gadiewasam for Kathru.com</span></p></li></ul><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">How to actually find rewarding work from home? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Be available. Be dependable. And deliver on time! </span></p><br><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">You know who they are, they sidle up to you at various functions and say that they are looking for work, and giggle bashfully and say can you send some work their way. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Comfortable looking, slightly frumpy stay-at-home moms, previously smart, professional, gainfully occupied women, now stuck at home with a kid, a dog or more challenging- a husband. Suddenly they want work, they want the money, but they are simply incapable of understanding that dread word " </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">deadlines</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">."</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Well, deadlines are deadlines whoever you are, and companies have to work with deadlines. That's how they make the money with which you are paid. You have to understand this. Frankly I've personally had it with employing housewives to do my sub-contracts. Here's why. As an employer I'm completely fed up with the pall of apathy that falls over them once they are in the domestic environment, shielded by the comforting financial security of a possibly bossy husband and the large and incredibly varied list of excuses that they can effortlessly manufacture at home. The list of excuses I've been given by housewives who fail to meet deadlines they have sincerely committed to, is painfully inexhaustive (though exhausting to look at) and boggles the mind. </span></p><ul style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px"><li style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre"><p style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt" role="presentation"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">I had to cook for my son (the guy was about 15 at the time mind you)</span></p></li><li style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre"><p style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt" role="presentation"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Weekends I have to do the laundry/ bathe the dog…</span></p></li><li style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre"><p style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt" role="presentation"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">My husband and I had a trip planned for the long weekend </span></p></li><li style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre"><p style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt" role="presentation"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">We had an almsgiving</span></p></li><li style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre"><p style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt" role="presentation"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">I have to </span><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">wrap my kids' exercise books for next term…</span></p></li><li style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre"><p style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt" role="presentation"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">my internet isnt working (for the last 3 months)</span></p></li></ul><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">I'm sorry and please consider me a completely insensitive, cold hearted, spoilsport who doesn't understand. If you expect to be given freelance work and if you aren't among the echelons of the great and famous freelancers who can afford to turn up their noses at decently paying work - then my dears,</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">you have to be available, be dependable </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">and be able to deliver on time.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">I'm not saying to agree to unreasonable nonsense from employers. Low payment is one set of nonsense and nasty deadlines are another. A potential contractor once told me that I would get four days to proofread his entire annual report and said the previous proofreader had passed away. Why am I not surprised? He probably tried giving him a two day deadline and the man likely had a heart attack. Don't agree to nonsense like that. But within reasonable pay and reasonable deadlines and with a sense of empathy for the employer's point of view, please do your best to budget the time you need, add a comfortable margin for unexpected but inevitable domestic chaos, and quote in a way that is fair to you and fair to your contractor.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Another thing, when you work from home the home folks tend to think they can still expect the usual attention from you, which is not fair on you because you will be multitasking and you will be stressed. So before you agree to a contract, please do enlist the support of your mother in law, husband, children and perhaps even the dog, by explaining to them that for a while your work will be priority and they must support you, be quiet and get some of their own stuff sorted. Lock yourself away in a studio or take the laptop to the bathroom if needed, where you will not be disturbed. Promise everyone a reward after everything is over, and reward yourself too! </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">That way you will make a reputation for being </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">dependable</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">, which is the difference between being hired, and being passed over. Like a number of very sweet, earnest and enthusiastic friends of mine, who I would never actually dream of doing business with…</span></p><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNHSVOPSVl5ZdfB1A9w0sgBbPCjE5sWqeTZ7lIxrw6ggFrpoVcSNqbpXuvAF4mXJhfAb1GmYRI4lsoPdPJ_cLU4UMDOB2sU2nGWoXuQmhIGGP-pcDY9UIcirZ5rCH3S8t2sSRfIvvRE5xvUfFNmg18jrJIRiIujv5MpjOSU5yxsyh4NFsfPJdZ6w"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNHSVOPSVl5ZdfB1A9w0sgBbPCjE5sWqeTZ7lIxrw6ggFrpoVcSNqbpXuvAF4mXJhfAb1GmYRI4lsoPdPJ_cLU4UMDOB2sU2nGWoXuQmhIGGP-pcDY9UIcirZ5rCH3S8t2sSRfIvvRE5xvUfFNmg18jrJIRiIujv5MpjOSU5yxsyh4NFsfPJdZ6w=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7269575716818252706" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfVoyi1rLgCgr_oGibKcERi1WxiBG0-JRyrFL5KR4KX_W69CCubTj1anZun7m7Wwh1nMiJqJs2unjTT5OnCFUNOaKYAE_1Nd0Zz4rfy4EXJ7Zvxt94GmPlt-iMWkL3ueTDkc2x32XJX6lUR3cT_rraFKMrvoZVVU_yd0bGQ2UkSqCBHNsai5athg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfVoyi1rLgCgr_oGibKcERi1WxiBG0-JRyrFL5KR4KX_W69CCubTj1anZun7m7Wwh1nMiJqJs2unjTT5OnCFUNOaKYAE_1Nd0Zz4rfy4EXJ7Zvxt94GmPlt-iMWkL3ueTDkc2x32XJX6lUR3cT_rraFKMrvoZVVU_yd0bGQ2UkSqCBHNsai5athg=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7269575721222860418" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhM2GBQjVmwIVP1M_E2QZKA_Tqi4rthBlzisUH3riarXqeTi7_hFeGK9w1m_4EbOQ-Wmj4OFQBbeJlzxlK_sS_zh2BVVVvo2b1xkKPksEcaHIjckpx28yzzmk50RF1wTqlDeULLTLqrK8z4daAlx7RzQEV1bQqtsXK_mQfwNqYsGOwjx1vrdTHdhw"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhM2GBQjVmwIVP1M_E2QZKA_Tqi4rthBlzisUH3riarXqeTi7_hFeGK9w1m_4EbOQ-Wmj4OFQBbeJlzxlK_sS_zh2BVVVvo2b1xkKPksEcaHIjckpx28yzzmk50RF1wTqlDeULLTLqrK8z4daAlx7RzQEV1bQqtsXK_mQfwNqYsGOwjx1vrdTHdhw=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7269575729917227650" /></a><br><span style="background-color:transparent;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:11pt;text-align:justify">…………………………………………….</span><br><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Also read </span><a href="https://roar.media/english/life/current-affairs/why-female-participation-labour-force-good-for-everyone" style="text-decoration-line:none"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;text-decoration-line:underline;vertical-align:baseline">this article</span></a><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> to understand <b>why women's participation in the labour force is good for everyone.</b> </span></p><br></span></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-44295305180383979722023-08-11T20:23:00.000-07:002023-08-11T20:24:03.591-07:00WAY TO GO, ROVER<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-4ae6662b-7fff-fcd0-ba0d-c8ae7a3213db"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-weight:700;vertical-align:baseline">WAY TO GO, ROVER</span><span style="background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);vertical-align:baseline"> </span><br></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">written and illustrated by Sakuntala Sachithanandan – 2023.…</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Book review by Chandrika Gadiewasam</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Rover arrives at Gamini's house unexpectedly, bundled out of a bag – much to innocent Gamini's delight but to the intense annoyance of granny Siriyawathie. He is a very small puppy ,found on the street by an uncle.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">He is very small, lonely and terrified and he pees uncontrollably when he gets scared which is quite often…Many things scare him including the huge angry broom-wielding Siriyawathie. Sriyawathie thinks Rover is a filthy cur because - simply because he is a dog and </span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">she</span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> did not wish to spend </span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">her</span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> valuable time on looking after dogs. True enough, somehow, her grandson has brought him to stay, but she mistreats him, screams continuously at him and generally starves him.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Quoting Zelda, the clever lizard watching it all from next door and creeping over to Gamini's garden now and then</span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">, "she absolutely hates anything that walks on four legs or more, or flies. Most of all, a doggy who wags his tail, rolls on his back and grins". </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Though he has been rescued from certain starvation and/or being crushed under a vehicle in the cruel world, sometimes Rover's home life seems worse than death. Rover is a baby after all and only wants some love and freedom to run and play and may be an old shoe to chew on because he is teething. But he's left locked up all day in a small wooden prison in his own pee.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">In the next door garden, Zelda the lizard , a kingfisher, Pilihudda and the next door pets, four doggies and plump pampered feline Chickadee, discuss his existence sadly and hope that things will improve for him. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">When I got my hands on this book the first thing that impressed me was the collection of attractive watercolor sketches by the author, then the simple refreshing writing style which was a delight for the adult reader too. But this book isn't just a story or cartoon, it has a much, much deeper message and I for one do hope that this will find its way to being translated into SInhala to reach as many children as possible!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Life isn't a bed of roses, as even children have to understand. In </span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Way to Go, Rover</span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">, author and animal welfare activist Sakuntala Sachithanandan is speaking with great sensitivity of the common fate of thousands of innocent puppies in Sri Lanka, where people often do not spay their animals due to religious reasons but are happy to abandon the litters on the road to die starving, be eaten by predators or be mangled by speeding vehicles. The book is released in an era where animal cruelty has reached hitherto unheard of heights. With her detailed, sensitive and occasionally humorous commentary on Rover's life through the eyes of two garden creatures, Zelda and the king fisher Pilihudda, Sakuntala hopes to instil love and concern for animals among the younger generation, and unlikely though it is in the real world, show how at least Rover can escape his sad destiny. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:10pt 0pt 0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Based on a hundred and one true stories, </span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Way to Go Rover</span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> is a children's book, but it should definitely be read by adults too. Not just to take you back to easy going narrative and attractive illustrations - but because it gives a very human and empathetic look into the life of a living, breathing little being, man's Best Friend, who would otherwise have been overlooked. Though Sakuntala has targeted children and therefore tried to keep the narrative light and humorous in the dialogue among the other garden animals, if one reads between the lines, the suffering of Rover is quite difficult to bear. The reader hopes desperately that something will change, and Rover will somehow find safety and love. </span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Will he prevail and will he be able to run free at last? Children and adults will want to read this story to the end to find out!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:10pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">A lawyer by profession, Sakuntala is also a poet and artist and WAY TO GO, ROVER includes her delightful watercolour illustrations which are a treat to the eye.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><br></p><div dir="ltr" style="margin-left:0pt" align="left"><table style="border:none;border-collapse:collapse"><colgroup><col width="262"></colgroup><tbody><tr style="height:0pt"><td style="border-width:1pt;border-style:solid;border-color:rgb(0,0,0);vertical-align:top;padding:5pt;overflow:hidden"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">This book is on sale at </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">S.GODAGE & BROTHERS (PVT) LTD. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">No.661,675,675, -</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">P.de S.Kularatne Mawatha, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Colombo 10</span></p></td></tr></tbody></table></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><br></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXmHynnC0e2jkH5llbrZk8TqseeLSkpxxaB8HIkvXfOX2H5hmw-TL5EHDELQDiqG6Trxbxf3V0-8NbBqZIyJ_WUCY3BWHYOPPDbtHB-y26dty786MepbNOmoQqno-oDN6UbbFfQ14v9zqokHbFDh81g3O9IPPGku1Pkq9TfiIlCpwhHS9pMeHc6A"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXmHynnC0e2jkH5llbrZk8TqseeLSkpxxaB8HIkvXfOX2H5hmw-TL5EHDELQDiqG6Trxbxf3V0-8NbBqZIyJ_WUCY3BWHYOPPDbtHB-y26dty786MepbNOmoQqno-oDN6UbbFfQ14v9zqokHbFDh81g3O9IPPGku1Pkq9TfiIlCpwhHS9pMeHc6A=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7266271392568261026" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizJugrAPG-Wi6zkLHt-K6pr2B-iLRno2vaeyjcLd5F0oN9fLw5wQcCrkWzBL_BiMRny8nVipVC_p8k-EEtxm3lGaBhvHssEZWVYrPwXN7fIBUBPRAoVba3PQeevO7KHv6vORKXkSu3_d3620QZYVaCc7XE-cU8B2Hrui7kUbizI5PlYTZyyF3_vg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizJugrAPG-Wi6zkLHt-K6pr2B-iLRno2vaeyjcLd5F0oN9fLw5wQcCrkWzBL_BiMRny8nVipVC_p8k-EEtxm3lGaBhvHssEZWVYrPwXN7fIBUBPRAoVba3PQeevO7KHv6vORKXkSu3_d3620QZYVaCc7XE-cU8B2Hrui7kUbizI5PlYTZyyF3_vg=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7266271397043329314" /></a><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><br></p><br></span></div><div><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature"><div dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.aljuharawrites.blogspot.com" target="_blank"><font face="verdana, sans-serif"> </font></a></div></div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-67448273637169157662023-07-09T11:31:00.000-07:002023-07-09T11:32:03.067-07:00WHERE ANGELS FEAR - Chandrika Gadiewasam ( written at age 11)<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif">WHERE ANGELS FEAR </div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><br></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-a109f58f-7fff-4f6b-6531-36f722522f44"><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">PROLOGUE </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"I remember the mountains in the morning. They caught the sunlight when it first appeared. The tips would become orange and then red and I would shiver because I remembered the meaning of life. The location was somewhere in Central Asia – I cant tell you exactly where, arid , heart-rendingly beautiful and cruel. It won't be any use trying to name it you won't find that name on your map .I warrant you cannot even pronounce the name . I remember the smells of early dawn, there were smells of small herbs that were growing on the side of the mountains the wild weeds which Babushka used to make into her concoctions ``…I call her Babushka but i'm not sure that she was Russian .She was a blend of so many races , her ancestors must have come from all corners of that continent .She prayed many times a day to Allah but her blue eyes were slightly Mongolian and her hair the color of the Steppes. Her skin was indeterminate, darker than really beautiful and sweet smelling like the herbs she delt in. She would have been so beautiful when she was young. I know of course that she is old but I cannot say by looking at her how old .</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"She knew many stories from many countries because when she was young she had traveled so far and wide and lived among so many famous people . I suspect that she had been a courtesan… but I must tell you that neither would I be surprised if she had said she was a nun…. Really my babushka was a mystery as deep as the sources of the mountain streams in that cold beautiful asian land I told you of …</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"So let me tell you about the tips of the mountains…They became red before the rest of the day. And what is so remarkable about that ? Well it thrilled me as I sat shivering in the darkness of the valley below .It amazed me to see that while standing in what was essentially night I breath up towards the light of a new dawn .And I imagined that from the top of the mountain a person standing in daybreak could still see down into the blackness of night below , like we spy into the fearsome dark corners of our souls and wait for them to fade into dawn. And let me come back again to the herbs….I don't actually like plants but all of nature pleases me in the peace it has to offer.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Some of these herbs Babushlka used to cure illness some to cause peculiar changes in the psychology of people …the stories she told me may indeed have been told by the delirious patients whose cuts she quietly sewed up and whose broken bones she firmly set .They were stories about life, you see.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">'The other stories were probably her experiences. This I suspect because the main characters always happened to be beautiful and fearless young girls with names like Razina ,Sebira, Sukena and so on .Underneath their different responses there was always a certain similarity of character .</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"I am sure however that she never wished for anyone to suspect that it as in fact her experiences she was talking about : her mother had belonged to an unforgiving Asian cult which maintained that one of the great sins was to gossip and spend precious time in bragging , spreading rumours and being idle. Storytelling on the other hand was permissible if it taught one morals ,provided happiness and kept the author gainfully employed…"</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"> At this point in the hakhawathi's story he was abruptly interrupted by their act of topping a nearby ridge in the terrain. A most breathtaking sight awaited the travellers.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The valley below resembled a huge and infernal graveyard. As far as the eye could see there were more structures shaped like the parts of skeletons of indeterminate creatures.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Gruesome. twisted and sun bleached , they imitated on a giant scale . the bones of failed monsters and djinns shaped by centuries of wind.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Then the famous valley of the Bone Mountains…"breathed the hakhawathi. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">" I have heard , "squeaked Lou, tremulously, "that there are mazes which trap travelers forever and it is the rock in their bones which adds to the size of the mountains. This is a place of death!"</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Well, he knows just how to boost our morale!" complained Ibn Jibbal sourly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Well, it is true ,"said Carreras, "one must know what one is heading for instead of walking stupidly into territory where angels fear to tread. There is no bravery when one is unaware of the consequences, just stupidity"</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Abruptly he stopped, gasping and looked around himself with an expression of wonder. He began to mutter indistinctly." A desert. Of rocks. A place of red stones. Like bones. !"Abruptly he whipped a chip of a broken mirror out of his pockets and stared at himself in its reflection, in a most demented and peculiar manner. When he turned back , Carreras saw the others staring at him dubiously.`</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"You see, before Mokhtazib left us, he looked into my eyes and he saw the strangest things there…eyes reflect the world in front of a person, and when certain people looked in to my eyes they see at certain times, the land where Al Kasan is travelling. When we were almost entering the Medini Triangle, Mokhtazib looked into my eyes and he saw, not the silent and barren sand desert I was traversing , but a strange red desert of rocks. He told me this and I could not understand. It means that Al Kasan was here a little while back"</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">This statement was greeted by a profound silence which was broken by a scuffle as the listeners in a coordinated movement wheeled their horses the better to get a close look at his eyes. Carreras laughed at their eagerness. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"It is not visible all the time! Only at certain times. Rest assured, I have seen what I need to see." </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">His smile died down as he saw the others staring at him pointedly.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">It was windy in the Red desert of rocks and their clothes flapped about and their hair blew and whipped around their faces.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Then he saw what they were looking at.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="text-wrap: nowrap;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">It was his own hair and clothes. They were unmoving, unaffected by the wind.</span></p><br><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Chapter 1 -</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Moonlight across the dunes. Gentle, ululating expanses of sand. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">This is the scrub dessert surrounding El Thebsi and there is a soft breeze in the air and the muffled sound of hooves in this sand.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">A lone horseman accompanied by a lithe desert Saluki gallops his way towards the vast red fortress on the horizon. He is smiling in the moonlight beneath his shawl, the dog is frisking with job ince this is their home and they have been away for months and they long to be back home.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The horse is most eager too, because of its exhaustion - it has traveled uncounted miles</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The horseman shouts.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The fortress does not reply.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The dog begins to curve around and whimper, dashing erratically back and forth in anxiety. The horseman, Carlos Romero DeLa Nostra y Carreras - he wheels his horse around the dog and urges it on, suddenly uneasy at the atmosphere that exudes from his home. </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"What has happened? Where is everyone?" Carreras chokes into his face covering, his joy changed in the flicker of an eyelid, into blind panic.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">The ancient and heavy gates of the Ochre fortress lie open and from beyond comes the ugly ominous silence of abandonment, tragedy and loss. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Carreras leaves Saklawi outside tethered loosely to a crumbling post and races after his whimpering dog, his horror giving him wings. The guard posts are empty, no single soul has come forth to meet him and the heart within him begins to thud in unspeakable horror. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"Ibn Jibbal, where are you? Sebira! Who hears me reply, it is your master returned '' his voice cracked in panic and then he remembered it was best to be silent in case some unspeakable danger waited within to ambush him too. Although he knew that without his family he may as well be dead. His death would matter nought if his worst fears were to be true- that the Ochre fortress had been invaded and plundered and all were ruined and killed including Sebira and the very animals of the place, their bones whitened during the threescore days of his absence… </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">His boots crunched loudly as he stumbled across the courtyards, diving in and out of kitchens and stables and stores. His breath came in ragged, disbelieving gasps and his mouth was parched with dread.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">But Carreras did not trip over the desiccated bodies of his loved ones nor did the stink of death meet him so he decided that no matter what miseries they had suffered they had to be alive: possibly kidnapped, and spirited away, perhaps already sold to slavery. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">And if there was no one to tell him who it was, how it happened then he must find the grisly clues himself if this was the last thing he did.</span></p><br><br><br><br><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Careras stopped at a well and peered down it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">He threw down a bucket and hoisted this up and was about to drink deep of the cool water, when something, a foul and nightmarical animal, loathsome and hairy jumped on him from behind and knocked the bucket from his grasp. Kesab the sand hound instead of jumping to his masters defense merely wagged his tail rather limply and the hideous animal proceeded to scream shrilly and hysterically into the Spaniards ears, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Carreras with considerable difficulty peeled the hairy nightmare off the back of his head and examined it in the moonlight.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">"It is as I thought. You little monster. It is Mushkila, Ibn Jibbal's pet monkey! Where is your master, you mangy creature from the pits of purgatory...? Take me to him at once! You hear?" </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">It seemed Muskila was agreeable. He crashed off into the shadows screaming and gibbering and Carreras rushed after him, the hound Kesab bring up the rear tripping and skidding. They stumbled across disarrayed furnishings and disordered draperies and as Careras ran he was worrying more and more if that was possible. The monkey was leading him down into Ibn Jibbals dungeons. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">He hoped his friend was alive.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-indent:36pt;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;font-variant-alternates:normal;vertical-align:baseline">Someone had to tell him who had been responsible for this pillage and kidnapping or massacre if it was one. The fortress was locked and deserted so </span></p><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglO5WBzsC0hSeG1RHfg2XvIASbdVJC9EBC9ADxi1kqT1WTBTkKbD6zuRC0TOqMOOJ2QUT5njL0oy81l-4-8SWxDckdG9h-k6f7B635RxW0qPfVXtDzgeqGe0SwtDjAtO0BGCiz0gACILd1Ndz2_MIB4vuiEbxwkT3WHAYIpRXYWKUxzNJCdMZ4ZA"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglO5WBzsC0hSeG1RHfg2XvIASbdVJC9EBC9ADxi1kqT1WTBTkKbD6zuRC0TOqMOOJ2QUT5njL0oy81l-4-8SWxDckdG9h-k6f7B635RxW0qPfVXtDzgeqGe0SwtDjAtO0BGCiz0gACILd1Ndz2_MIB4vuiEbxwkT3WHAYIpRXYWKUxzNJCdMZ4ZA=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7253888478909152466" /></a><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"> </div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-3379176124685602472022-07-12T01:07:00.000-07:002022-07-12T01:08:29.828-07:00My poor middle income cats<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjyd0B4GQHri9ylmLphSQeQ2OmYdwcd4cBhf39xn4-XN7x2mIAWOxp0oyRVn2aI2yHrKmAk9Eggj2tIrTMgSmq7pi2vzJIDkS2zud1P6h6bxVXAmRbScdRiMdEN5ru2TcvbWCtorZTeAjm3-siJhQrmv3v2ttc1EnkcEef2s4o8zHAOfL0FTeI"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjyd0B4GQHri9ylmLphSQeQ2OmYdwcd4cBhf39xn4-XN7x2mIAWOxp0oyRVn2aI2yHrKmAk9Eggj2tIrTMgSmq7pi2vzJIDkS2zud1P6h6bxVXAmRbScdRiMdEN5ru2TcvbWCtorZTeAjm3-siJhQrmv3v2ttc1EnkcEef2s4o8zHAOfL0FTeI=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7119394958263880866" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRzerIpNjnMV_B4opqjavHCN9-PjQxDFCOpcR6iVXaLWHGv1uOGYfWIfWcgI2AFmih_UFOWLnMwvcmhl9Pg488lcaPZTeNDYufwyVieuf_IJoWj_g7ozg_K87QjK0sK8ZaU7qdOh_i89RM0h8WSxKcLQ69J0phE6apJTorkuNNvCsnXQ2aS8k"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRzerIpNjnMV_B4opqjavHCN9-PjQxDFCOpcR6iVXaLWHGv1uOGYfWIfWcgI2AFmih_UFOWLnMwvcmhl9Pg488lcaPZTeNDYufwyVieuf_IJoWj_g7ozg_K87QjK0sK8ZaU7qdOh_i89RM0h8WSxKcLQ69J0phE6apJTorkuNNvCsnXQ2aS8k=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7119394964288193970" /></a> <br><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">Happier times in Sri Lanka </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><br></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><br></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">As I start typing there is something like a dead body trying to fight its way out of my freezer, and my house smells very much like the scene of a homicide where the murderer has tried to hide the evidence but failed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">But as far as I'm concerned this is one of my good days. Im Sri Lankan. This is 2022. We are going through a nightmare. Imagine waking up poor, in a third world country? I was what was called middle income. After 30 years of white-collar work, I was planning to retire in 2022 and buy myself a small car. But this was not to be. I'm now stuck in a reality where I can think twice before buying food for my cats, because a kilo of the scrawny bony fish they used to eat those days is now more expensive than a kilo of turkey or lamb or whatever you think is expensive meat. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">And as for a car, perish the thought. For the last month practically everything I have done has been commuting on my two feet. This shouldn't be a shock to someone who used to walk for exercise those days, but now the number of kilometers I must cover in a day is becoming more and more and the weights I have to carry are becoming heavier and heavier. Today for example when I went to the fish stall and looked desperate and asked Danny Uncles people for some stuff which I can give to dogs and cats, one of them gave me a glinty eyed look which was slightly leery and handed me 5 kilos of the filthiest tripe you can imagine, claiming optimistically that if I boil it and give my pets they will happily eat it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">I dare say they will because not just the people, but the animals too are close to starving in most of Sri Lanka.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">There's a complex reason for it, which we are told is a bespectacled dictator fellow with one fixed eye, one roving eye and a thin mustache. Well, his family actually. There's corruption, mismanagement and loans according to the financial pundits. Apparently, we were living beyond our means by using anything imported, which was bought using dollars which we don't have because we have taken so many loans that we have to keep paying back in dollars for the next 100 years or something. I don't know why my cats should starve because of any of this, and they have actually become thin. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">My cats are just as innocent as American cats, they really didn't do anything to deserve being part of this.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">So I take the foul offal home by bus, praying that the bag would not explode and have me become a social outcast, for some reason this is one of my anxieties. I have many anxieties, that I will get tetanus or bitten by a rabid dog (there are no vaccines) that I will die of snake bite (there are cobras in my garden, who have an excellent understanding with me- but no anti venin in this country now) or that I will need dental attention( needless to say we only have the stocks of dentists equipment and drugs and pastes that we had around April -we don't have dollars to import any more stuff) are among my regular nightmares although I have a long list of anxieties including finally that there won't be any more anxiety medications. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">So here I am carrying five kilos of dead body home and wondering what to do with it. I have a vague idea that I should wash the tripe before I place it in my freezer. It smells of autopsies. But if you love your cats, you make sacrifices. Before too long I smell like a sacrifice too. Luckily, I have an outdoor tap, itself installed after a fight to find a plumber. Most Sri Lankan workers have gone abroad and only send dollars to their wives or third wheels in limited amounts. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">I place a basin, overturn the tripe into it and start washing. My cats tiptoe up to me in some concern. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">Idly I hope Danny uncles people did not expect sexual favors from me in return for this free tripe. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">It was the most putrid, revolting stomach churning, soul shrinking manure that I have ever come close to. I fished out a piece of what looked like intestines and gave it to each of my cats, but they looked away. They wanted it boiled with salt and Marmite as their Highnesses were accustomed to. So I descended elbow deep into this muck and started cleaning it. The basin leaked and before too long my feet were ankle deep in bloody swill. I find some acceptable pieces of fish and treat the hungry cats to it, they fall upon them gleefully.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">I managed to place the gloop in three plastic bags, begging silently for forgiveness at the times when I had cursed plastic bags and called them detrimental to the environment. Anyway, I think we won't be having plastic bags for much longer and not because of their environmental impact but because we don't have the dollars to buy them. The plastic bags dripped a thick orangey red colored fluid when held up so I left them in the basin. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">So far so good. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">Here was evidence I was smoothly and seamlessly becoming a "poor person" as was expected, without too much screaming or revolt. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">Then there was the stage where I should start a wood fire. I should by rights be getting my fireplace running but Im one of those karens who don't know how to start a wood fire without kerosene and also there is a massive breeze these days from the Bay of Bengal some monsoonal turbulence that promises me that if I do dare start a fire it may not go as I planned. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">I stuff two of the bags into the freezer but the door keeps popping out. I jam them in to a plastic box and force it shut.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">At this point I gave in to my decadent middle-class laziness, gave up the romantic wood fire idea and initiated the infrared cooker, to boil the first set of tripe. There will be a toll on the electricity bill but I will face it later. The cats have fed and fallen asleep on my beds and sofa after some brief content purry body washing.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">The electricity goes out which we are accustomend to, and it wont be back for another three hours, but for now my laptop has some power. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">So I wash my cadaver-scented fingers with Lymol dish wash liquid, and sit down to type…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"> </p></div><div><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature"></div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-1030401528061096112022-02-25T01:33:00.000-08:002022-02-25T01:34:21.158-08:00The Beauty and the Bitterness<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><br></div><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-c797c046-7fff-d352-e2ae-66c807783fac"><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">A life we rarely see</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">A sweeping panorama of misty highland beauty greets the eye, bringing cool serenity to the heat and grit of Colombo. The result of combined efforts of more than 3 dozen youth from the plantation sector of Sri Lanka- and this time they have not been plucking tea leaves, but diverted their energies to a different art- the impactful skill of photojournalism. Their tireless civil society partners and artistic/creative advisors have pitched in to bring you an experience hitherto unparalleled. The </span><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Teh Kahata exhibition</span><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> on photography brings you previously untold stories from the so called tea plantation sectors of Sri Lanka, bringing glimpses into a life we rarely experience beyond the uplifting sparkle of a cup of the world renowned Ceylon tea. </span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiNJDQ8ad1z_5m9JRvWDnK7jaPhJznyzOtS6lKemKsXrY8J--1LBGvmTmk4YgJsAbOb8gSyr7BwQsiggbxkOGlfvwHFAuxfF1bu1Q-0MMXiLEMUMOz0IeKxjnGIteQuljmir8ys2fXc27JjlJ6ny6omCZVDKVW9DTJnTaxxEBIakOgEP-b-X8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiNJDQ8ad1z_5m9JRvWDnK7jaPhJznyzOtS6lKemKsXrY8J--1LBGvmTmk4YgJsAbOb8gSyr7BwQsiggbxkOGlfvwHFAuxfF1bu1Q-0MMXiLEMUMOz0IeKxjnGIteQuljmir8ys2fXc27JjlJ6ny6omCZVDKVW9DTJnTaxxEBIakOgEP-b-X8=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7068578411946100754" /></a><p style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif">Photo by WT Dhanushka</span><br></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Striking visuals</span><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">The games that old folk like to say have become a long lost art still live here. A small child sits on a coconut frond while older children pull it along. One picture down some children use a toy blackboard and bottlecaps from liquor bottles to play a game and left and right of them there are all manner of items being used - empty tins, plastic bottles and old plastic bags. It's not because these children's parents are overly nostalgic or minimalist - this is all they can give their children to play with. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Teh Kahata Background </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">The Teh Kahata photojournalism project was a brainchild of the Centre for Policy Alternative and its Badulla collaborative partner Uva Shakhti Foundation, begun in 2018. Here the objective was not merely another project with predictable development results, but the goal was to make a real difference in the lives of the young estate sector participants by giving them a comprehensive training not only in the technical aspects of photography (and photo editing) but also in social aspects of visual reportage through photography. Forty youth were selected based on their genuine enthusiasm for the field of communication studies and photography and underwent extensive training by experts selected especially for their sensitivity and professionalism. A number of practical field trips were held in the estates, working with the approval of plantation sector administration and other stakeholders in the areas. The results were thousands of striking visuals bringing their world before the wider audience of Sri Lankans and through virtual exhibitions, before the world itself. This phase of the project saw its striking exhibitions held in Kandy, Jaffna and Batticaloa apart from Colombo.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">"Rare pictures, made me want to cry,"</span><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> said one of the visitors to the exhibition, and another said </span><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">"The Technology used for the photographs is great. Handling of colours including artistry has been used perfectly and I'm happy the photographers are young people. It's very good to see photography used to bring out their internal environmental issues…"</span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLAfQaLklnxg1a8f3vxsezDdeHYzeKyraR5SPhGnICufzmTH3v9dEhHapGFPRQ0N9Oz8i7QNBHKCom4oAB1hLfCCDuLSLzKQzZjlyesUhh3Wmxs6rgDsl5YteBEDuIApszzkXE4h-dBQWpKnBPkrplhkvLYkhBO2Mvi5MSq1mt5azJPlSbOmg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLAfQaLklnxg1a8f3vxsezDdeHYzeKyraR5SPhGnICufzmTH3v9dEhHapGFPRQ0N9Oz8i7QNBHKCom4oAB1hLfCCDuLSLzKQzZjlyesUhh3Wmxs6rgDsl5YteBEDuIApszzkXE4h-dBQWpKnBPkrplhkvLYkhBO2Mvi5MSq1mt5azJPlSbOmg=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7068578421967090450" /></a><p style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif">Photo by C Sagidaran</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Tea Industry reels under double whammy</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">The programme by CPA, Uva Shakthi Foundation and GIZ was begun in 2018, and the latest phase of the photojournalism project beyond 2020, had to battle the challenges of a crippling global pandemic and internal repercussions of bungled agricultural reforms, along with the plantation sector in which it is set. While Sri Lanka has reeled under skyrocketing inflation with the tea industry as a whole being buffeted by banning, shortages and then escalating prices in chemical fertiliser, problems in power supply, pollution, climate change, transport price hikes, international competition; the wages of the plantation sector workers remain static, with no hope of revision in sight. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">So for the marginalised workers of the line rooms trapped between chaotic policies and entrenched injustice, there seems no end in sight to their suffering among the beauty of the estates.</span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCsFepuYuBYFYWdKGIDVUWYPgCWYmz21IzYBV9ED23agvigVbVT7TQaE8BtiQSXTBwad0otvXRGYeYPIr4g0CclBztgJyBgNNUQxSpUCXs3A51MTLxch7WhN74lx0aExYhjAJdJTjP93uE8tCKSHKhV-9PLiBFAkbFXqC1AEuuKNVohl-GTw4"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCsFepuYuBYFYWdKGIDVUWYPgCWYmz21IzYBV9ED23agvigVbVT7TQaE8BtiQSXTBwad0otvXRGYeYPIr4g0CclBztgJyBgNNUQxSpUCXs3A51MTLxch7WhN74lx0aExYhjAJdJTjP93uE8tCKSHKhV-9PLiBFAkbFXqC1AEuuKNVohl-GTw4=s320" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7068578427179073106" /></a><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.295;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:8pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><br></span></p></span><br class="gmail-Apple-interchange-newline"></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-87783609814084614852021-12-09T20:22:00.001-08:002021-12-09T20:22:54.270-08:00Taking the Bitter with the Sweet<div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span name="place"> <span name="country-region"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtirBjzRJI3uDNsDBxzb2XvOFPDE6aQl5cab78wEDLhj53MaTyH5b_OAGTJ1Yelncu0Rfs9BhD9eQHaaoBEv_0_IKfNaS_3_AltY_8mv2Vc1b5wlbmj4X2AwBFsLQszi_keLkRmg/s1600/091eb17a230462bdae972ac6221edccc-774314.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtirBjzRJI3uDNsDBxzb2XvOFPDE6aQl5cab78wEDLhj53MaTyH5b_OAGTJ1Yelncu0Rfs9BhD9eQHaaoBEv_0_IKfNaS_3_AltY_8mv2Vc1b5wlbmj4X2AwBFsLQszi_keLkRmg/s320/091eb17a230462bdae972ac6221edccc-774314.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7039924592497256290" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><br></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:12pt">Around twelve years ago, when I was hovering on the magical brink of becoming a symbolic 39, I went in for my annual overall check up and the reports came in with a positive diagnosis of diabetes.</span><br></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">Well, yours truly, Chands, was in shock for a while and thought it was some kind of mistake! This was an OLD PEOPLES disease! It was one of those incurable inconvenient things that happened after you are sixty or something! This went along with Alzheimer's, dentures and incontinence, in my list of geriatric issues. This wasn't for me; I didn't <i>deserve</i> it, I didn't really do any of the things I imagined would make me into a diabetic. Ok I was rather lazy about the exercise thing although on and off I would try to keep in shape, not for health reasons at all but because I wanted to wear some dress…and I liked having a coke once in a way but actually I couldn't even afford junk food, so why had this happened to me? I was by no means overweight, my BMI was acceptable, I didn't eat half the oil or ice cream that I saw my relations down day after day, (even the diabetic ones, once they had taken their daily insulin)- I was the careful one, probably because I was an older sister, and a mother, and we actually get used to giving up the food to other family members, particularly the sweet treats. Have you noticed? Most of the moms I know take home any chocolates they get at work to give the kids, and I was no exception. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">So why me? First there was the hazy denial stage… Maybe this was a mistake and it could be reversed…maybe it would go away and just be a bad dream and not end up in me having to lose my left foot (something I have been paranoid about since signing up for a Life insurance package which gave you double bonus if you lost limbs on OPPOSITE SIDES …think about that carefully – to claim you need to lose a right hand AND a left foot… tricky, but I'm sure it can be organised if you remember to stick them both out at the last moment before the train hits! Looks like the insurance people think of everything !…pardon the deviation here) …maybe a completely starch free diet and running five miles a day would work – I didn't know Fanny Adams about diabetics and it looked like I would have to learn fast…here, I figured out, were some of the practical downsides: </span></p> <ul type="disc" style="margin-bottom:0in"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">anything you previously spent on chocolates and sweets to pamper yourself, you now have to spend on medications and strips for the tester machine; those are quite expensive</span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">insurance companies automatically double the premium if they learn you are diabetic, and if they know you are OLD and diabetic they can even treble it </span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">you cant skip meals anymore, since you go into a stage of dizziness and nausea caused by having low blood sugar. So forget high pressure jobs, unplanned journeys or in fact any real adventure</span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">Diabetes also can make people feel sad, angry, or lonely because most of your friends are not watching their blood sugar levels! in Sri lanka you get a lot of unfeeling comments too, like " <i>oh, you must have eaten lots of sugary stuff</i>!" (as if you are the only one, and the person saying it completely abstains from any!) and " <i>oh my, at this age ! How terrible</i> !" (as if your entire future just went)</span></li> </ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">This is apart from the disease itself which involves gradual nerve degeneration and higher risks of cholesterol, heart disease and another boat load of more nasty sounding stuff, and of course, eventual amputation of feet.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">Yes, it can be at first glance quite a damper on life…until- in the spirit of Chands, you look for the possible positive bits! And here they are:</span></p> <ul type="disc" style="margin-bottom:0in"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">You automatically get the exercise you need, because if you don't you get in actual trouble. So exercise is compulsory. And then little irritations in life, like 'having" to walk a further 200 yards because you miss a halt, become positive opportunities. Compulsory walking, you find is exhilarating, interesting, a time for creative thinking and saves on fuel and transport costs! And you retain a moderately youthful figure for free!!! </span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">Watching your diet becomes compulsory so now there is no fighting with your self control. You settle on a diet and you get used to it and its actually good for you! No nonsense with new year resolutions which you mess up in February! </span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">You begin to realise how good something gooey and sweet tastes, because you can't have it often. So you have a new perspective about the good things in life! </span></li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">You won't ever have to worry about growing obscenely, decrepitly, disgustingly old and being a gibbering, geriatric burden on your children. Statistically most diabetics are usually quite dead by 75 or something.</span></li> </ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">Ok, I have to end by saying none of this is expert medical advice of any kind, and Chands is just an average person with a common problem, now, more common than it ever was, sadly due to modern lifestyles. Why it happened and what will happen next I do not know, but I can leave you with some useful and honestly playful tips by the real experts which I found here: </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://www.besthealthmag.ca/get-healthy/diabetes/19-tips-for-stable-steady-blood-sugar-levels">http://www.besthealthmag.ca/get-healthy/diabetes/19-tips-for-stable-steady-blood-sugar-levels</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB">And the assurance that even if you get diabetes it is not the end of the world, and you can still be happy. Very happy.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></p></span></span></div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-62037126608947377942021-10-20T02:17:00.001-07:002021-10-20T02:17:56.511-07:00The Life and Times of ALJUHARA<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFLw5oVAV0yjX4zSVHKc5NmkNCE-8PyZcMQ7UWW40PAl5npYpmnhEeKNo76K2IuD_iC4Ck7zBF-xbfFIJ4ucenRBF3ngFni0vrV2Ezn4Vs1xInYfNhTUVRKtwvlLkt4-j0ddSxA/s1600/2021-05-21-776577.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFLw5oVAV0yjX4zSVHKc5NmkNCE-8PyZcMQ7UWW40PAl5npYpmnhEeKNo76K2IuD_iC4Ck7zBF-xbfFIJ4ucenRBF3ngFni0vrV2Ezn4Vs1xInYfNhTUVRKtwvlLkt4-j0ddSxA/s320/2021-05-21-776577.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7021075285699313954" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><br></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">….ie more of that rahu/ kethu/ aturu dasha crap</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">Its about two years since I last wrote for WOW officially and may I say I'm glad to be back. Quite a lot has happened in my life in these two years and you can be sure I will be updating you about it, in occasionally painful detail. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">Now where do I start? .</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">I have a lovely young friend in office who studies horoscopes in her spare time. I mean it very seriously, its like you can have a Diploma in Mumbo Jumbo, supervised by a number of lecturers in various sub topics, the main one is the Astrology Diploma and the sub topics include stuff like Herbal Remedies, Exorcism, and Spells. (ok this may sound like Hogwarts to you but this is good old fashioned Mattakkuliya where she is studying this stuff from an ancient and venerable guru, the type who probably takes about half a minute to turn a yellowed page in his crumbling antique textbooks….using of course, a shaking, saliva-moistened old digit…) And she takes this very seriously and she is GOOD in this stuff if I do guarantee so myself. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">Well about two years ago, after being bullied no end by me to read my chart, Sulakshani, for that is her name, told me that I would a) buy a land b) move out of my family home. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">and c) become fat.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">You may say this wasn't really a prediction, but rather a set of things I should do or would feel like doing, or as I prefer to think, things that I would subconsciously want to do once I had heard about the prediction. …however to me they were quite impactful, serious things.And not really things you can do as easily as all that. Except perhaps the getting fat thing, but then would you want to?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">Land is blooming expensive in this day and age and my salary barely keeps me alive from month to month, Ive been living in my ancestral (read:parents) home for the last 25 years and have established it as a comfort zone par excellence, mosquitoes, porcupines<a style="color:blue" href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:12pt">[1]</span></span></span></a> and all, and last but not least, who on Earth wants to actually <b>get fat because of your horscope</b>?!?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">Well, I began to sit around thinking what a materially useless life I had been having for the last ten years of working, although I enjoyed the work, there was nothing to show for it and although I enjoyed life I didn't know where I would live if I had to move out of this crowded nest…the more I thought about it the more I ached to have my own swamp, my own square feet, my own home to hang my hat in…this idea was followed by months of frenzied scanning of HIT Ad and all the copycat adz pamphlets of rival newspapers…and week after week I had to carefully decipher what people wrote about their properties…I actually became pretty good at this " <i>near the 122 bus route</i>" sounded good, until you find out that this bus only passes through 3 times a day, the rest of the time you basically have to hitch hike on passing bullock carts, " <i>peaceful country environment</i>" means you have to walk 20 minutes to get a panadol and "<i>close to the city</i>" means your windows rattle every 7 minutes when staff buses go past. "i<i>n close proximity to the XYZ Balika VIdyalaya</i>" had its own hideous implications which I leave you to figure out. And leaving all of that aside, the sheer price of these Sri Lankan "perches" was astounding. Translated into foreign currency Sri Lankan villagers were asking me sums of money per square foot which could have bought me good suburbs in many American States!…I was confounded! It just didn't seem to be something I could bring about…I went on a number of interesting and expensive land-spotting foreys and took lots of photographs of Kaduwela, Hanwella and romantic Labugama…up in these leech infested hills bordering onto Ratnapura, illiterate villagers continued to cheerfully gobsmack me with thundering quotes for their little (and completely deforested) plots of useless marsh land until I actively hated them. These people hadn't worked for this wealth, they had simply inherited stuff and stripped it, cut all the trees, eaten and of course drunk the proceeds and now were trying to rip me off royally by selling me denuded craters of slanted earth….but at the same time, man, was the scenery gorgeous, I could stand there all day looking around me…this was mother Earth in all her beauty and I wanted a small patch at least for my final resting place.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">…and well, yes, I fell for one of the marshes, it is a very tiny modest little marsh, predictably treeless, although luckily bordered by rubber plantations and a distant river which they hadn't managed to pollute too much yet, in the salubrious surrounds of the former Sitawaka Kingdom, where long ago a king had boiled<a style="color:blue" href="#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:12pt">[2]</span></span></span></a> a lot of monks because they would not absolve him of the crime of patricide…and yes I moved out of my nest, a big step for me, but since im 40 (for crying out loud, it was about time!)..</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">As to the getting fat part…Id say fat is a relative concept…I was probably fat to start with although with difficulty I am retaining my BMI within healthy limits to ensure that my diabetes dosnt kill me too quickly…But you know what? I kind of think Sulakshi does in fact know her astrology stuff quite well. Drop us a mail if you'd like your chart read too.<span style="font-family:Wingdings">J</span> <a href="mailto:chandrika6@gmail.com" style="color:blue">chandrika6@gmail.com</a></p> <div><br clear="all"> <hr align="left" size="1" width="33%"> <div id="gmail-ftn1"> <p class="gmail-MsoFootnoteText" style="margin:0in;font-size:10pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><a style="color:blue" href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:10pt">[1]</span></span></span></a> This is a completely different story </p> </div> <div id="gmail-ftn2"> <p class="gmail-MsoFootnoteText" style="margin:0in;font-size:10pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><a style="color:blue" href="#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:10pt">[2]</span></span></span></a> Or drowned, I cant really remember </p><p class="gmail-MsoFootnoteText" style="margin:0in;font-size:10pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">Photograph is a random pretty pic of a bathing spot in Thunmodera, Sri Lanka </p> </div> </div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-8582495017154151342021-10-14T08:16:00.000-07:002021-10-14T08:17:29.793-07:00Zeeny and the Pola Cats<div dir="ltr"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcK_H45ALyWppJ5VXORdJVuxlXTk1CW5SZPTzjhm6ctrda9SSHMmJoqlzLwLbnzx4JjGq_AWEPnN5MbbAHs7EPFO6fk1Xmki8deFwPQdQPgQNCOTBEoWMdFZ1tOegGu5LD3Ts5wQ/s1600/guy-found-terrified-stray-kitten-under-a-truck-and-just-had-to-adopt-her-758x397-749852.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcK_H45ALyWppJ5VXORdJVuxlXTk1CW5SZPTzjhm6ctrda9SSHMmJoqlzLwLbnzx4JjGq_AWEPnN5MbbAHs7EPFO6fk1Xmki8deFwPQdQPgQNCOTBEoWMdFZ1tOegGu5LD3Ts5wQ/s320/guy-found-terrified-stray-kitten-under-a-truck-and-just-had-to-adopt-her-758x397-749852.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7018941429506042930" /></a><div><br><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif"></span><span style="font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;font-size:11pt;text-align:justify">So my friend</span><span style="font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;font-size:11pt;text-align:justify"> </span><span style="font-family:Calibri,sans-serif;font-size:11pt;text-align:justify">Zeeny sterilizes stray cats. Regularly. Obsessively. And persistently. She is happy that I told her how to go get them operated. You just have to grab them, starve them a few hours before, and make an appointment with a vet and take them over and then look after them for a few days afterwards till they heal. And then no matter how much you grow to love them, you have to release them back to the pitiless street from where you got them because most people are not very willing to give street cats a home.</span></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 10pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">People criticize us religiously saying that we are interfering with Gods plan. Or that we are accumulating bad karma and we should be childless in the next birth. But she cares about the cats. People who don't know her scold her and judge her and tell her that she will be barren in her next life. If you never had access to birth control, and you continued helplessly to have child after child after child would you be so judgmental ? Have you looked at a stray cat that has had kittens every six months for a few years? Have you seen how tired and haggard it looks? You do not see the struggle that it goes through, to get food, with people chasing pregnant cats away continuously; you have not seen how much it suffers trying to protect its young on the street. Some people think of cats in human terms, and say that we should not interfere with Gods arrangement. They forget that unlike humans, stray cats or dogs do not have employment, and that they have young every six months if they are not spayed. Female stray cats do not have the support of their husbands. They also mate freely with their own siblings and parents and offspring and that leads to deformities. Street animals are often neglected and diseased, and many cause road accidents and die, or steal food out of desperation and then are attacked mercilessly by people and left to die in terrible pain. I have seen female dogs with broken legs screaming while being gang raped because they happen to be in heat. Male dogs (and also <span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif">clearly </span>male Gods) don't think about these things, though as women we do. Often people like to ignore all these facts as they tell us about God's plan, or karma. Often I feel they can afford to be sanctimonious because then they don't have to spend time or money on spaying operations, they can just shrug and leave it to God. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 10pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><b>A one-woman mission against stray overpopulation in Wellampitiya</b></span><br></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 10pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">Some of them tell us that they find homes for their kittens/puppies among contacts. But the truth is that because those homes are taken up by the animals that are bred, then there are no homes for the street animals who will continue to be neglected and unloved. Then some people say that they are animals of the forest and should be able to find food from the jungle. This is not true either because cats and dogs are domesticated animals and often there is not enough food for them in the cities, leading cats in overpopulated areas to forage among other species such as rare birds and rodents, to feed themselves. This is bad for the environment in the long term. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 10pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">For all these reasons Zeeny will continue to spay the stray animals she finds and I will continue to try to find funding for it. Possibly both of us will be <span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"></span>barren in the afterlife, but until then we are happy when we go to the pola and see the young females we have spayed living a carefree life without being gang raped, getting continuously pregnant or being chased with brooms or boiling water.<span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 10pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 10pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><i>For happy stories of stray kitten rescues search for Le Kittenarium on FB</i></span></p></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-57703916177657155072021-07-10T23:59:00.000-07:002021-07-11T00:00:13.719-07:00The Little Witch of Modera<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-02d266c0-7fff-2135-7711-820ddcb98271"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUcwfzyl2FLKibPZxezgksTX66D14oTQEEYauKykvsHrVHAj3LRWx686NTCoMAkjWEEgGAiRgukNOAMdhh9AJcFXc59eW4PY1NiwPZ8MB1J_IJl-D86H0a02bwlCyHRLIQOxhMOw/s1600/LK94008466-03-E-713781.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUcwfzyl2FLKibPZxezgksTX66D14oTQEEYauKykvsHrVHAj3LRWx686NTCoMAkjWEEgGAiRgukNOAMdhh9AJcFXc59eW4PY1NiwPZ8MB1J_IJl-D86H0a02bwlCyHRLIQOxhMOw/s320/LK94008466-03-E-713781.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6983560193588482690" /></a><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:12pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:0pt 0pt 20pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><br></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:12pt;margin-bottom:0pt;padding:0pt 0pt 20pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">FAA AGAIN</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">So the next day I took the toy motorbike and gave to Nuzrath. I was feeling maybe that it was for his kid, Muad, but later I found that wasn't the case. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><font color="#000000"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Nuzrat didnt let me get away, he made me sit down and showed me how he had taken Amor's lost sock and sewed it onto the plastic biker guy, like a kind of body bag/straight jacket. </span><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><br></span><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">When Im doing this I have to undergo some rituals and I have to do some chanting , he told me. And he had to draw a particular charm on a thin piece of copper plating which he stuffed into the stomach of the plastic doll. He had an ancient book with these charms drawn in it and he put on his glasses to look through this book. It looked as if the page corners were all worn out. He must have studied this book a lot. </span></font></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">He also found ashes, they say from a crematorium.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">In Sri Lanka there is a market for the ashes of dead people, which were unclaimed. So these may be ashes from some homeless person, or elderly beggar, which no one had picked up. They were used for black magic of various kinds. He had a supplier from the Modera Cemetery. He sprinkled the ashes all over the little doll, and also anointed it in a certain kind of oil that had been taken from a kind of rare lizard. I don't ever support animal cruelty, so I would not have allowed him to do this for me. But he seemed to already have these items in stock. Finally the doll looked and smelt really bad and he put it in a jute bag, which he was going to chant over 108 times.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">He had a lot of strange little bottles in a cupboard in his office room, and I saw behind a curtain, he had small bottles of all sizes and shapes, with beautiful lettering all over them in a different language. It looked a little like Aladins cave, but without any gold. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">He showed me a strange wooden box that was painted and dusty. He took it from a compartment in an old cupboard which had an old black padlock to it. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">Do you know what is in this?he said. It looked like it may contain an ola leaf manuscript. It had a small catch on it and with some difficulty he opened the lid. There was something strange lying there, and slightly smelly too like fish bacon. I thought it was some kind of long animal like a sea slug. Or a piece of dried meat, but not dried to be completely solid, it was more like bacon, and red and brown colored. It was about eight inches long. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">This is a pilluwa. He said </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">I had thought that a pilluwa was a dead person or a mummified corpse brought to life to do what the exorcist said..., I looked at him with the quesitons in my eyes.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">A mahasohon pilluwa is obtained from a special kind of person. It is the child of a pair of dwarves, and the exorcist keeps an eye out in the village if such a pair are to get married. Their child usually dies early. Do you know how much we have to suffer to get this? How rarely this happens? The kattadiya has to identify these people. Has to track them for years. Has to ensure that the body is not cremated but is buried. Has to prepare for weeks before the ritual. He should be a person strong in mind who does not get easily scared.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">He must find a similar assistant who is also very tough and brave. The assistant will prepare the offerings. Four kinds of demons visit during this ritual and if either the kattadiya or his assistant baulks, or shows the least amount of fear, they will smite them and turn their minds to fever and they will end up in the lunatic asylum after that. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">The ritual has to be carried out in the jungle near the cemetery. At a certain time of the month when the moon is a certain level, the ritual has to be initiated. The corpse of that child has to be dug up and kept on the ground. The incantations have to go on for hours.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">The first demon to come takes the harmless shape, of a hen with some small chickens. The assistant has to throw rice grains at this hen and they will eat it and go away. Then a huge cobra slithers up hissing. The Assistant must not be afraid of the cobra, the chanting must go on, and an egg is given to the cobra.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">Just one egg..? I said taking this all in.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">Yes one egg. Then in the middle of the night an elephant comes which is pretty scarey. Elephants are not nocturnal so you know that these are demons. The elephant too has red eyes and is drooling. He proceeds to ruin the whole locality, charging about and roaring. The kattadiyas have to stand their ground and when he seems tired, they have to throw a piece of banana plant for it to take. Then it carries that and goes away.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">Finally, Mahasoha himself comes. He is so hideous with his jaws open that that is all you see, his lower jaw scraping the earth, and his top jaw blocking the sky. Between them the entrance to hell. He spends a lot of time screaming and destroying the area, and then when he becomes quiet we have to give him a live chicken.</font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">I didnt like that part of the story because Im dead against animal cruelty. But I guess most people didnt care. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">Finally when it is all over, we can animate the corpse and it sits up and tries to extend its tongue and lick the gurunanse. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><font color="#000000">At that point he must take a sharp knife and cut the tongue off. The Pilluwa is the tongue which is taken and preserved. The rest of the corpse is simply reburied. </font></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Are you sure you want to do this?Nuzrat checked with me a couple of times as he was going through the rituals. They were taking a lot of time and he took breaks from work every couple of hours. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">I'm sure about it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">There is no turning back from what may happen. He warned</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Also, I cannot be sure what will happen. It might be nothing much. It depends on the position of his stars too and these days they are fairly bad. In fact they are aligned towards an accident of some kind. But do you know this is an evil thing you are doing and also you are making me do this. We will both suffer. Do you understand that?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Nuzrat insisted that he would not take payment from me.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Because it has to be clear that I am doing this because you asked me, and because you are suffering some kind of injustice. I should not be benefiting from this evil. If I benefit from this, my life will be negatively affected some other way. I have a wife and family. I don't want there to be any bad effects on them. I am only doing this to help you because you said you were so desperate. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">And another thing. said Nuzrat...I want to tell you. I received a message last night while I was in a trance. It is information for you. Are you these days in a secret relationship with a married man you care about?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">This caught my attention and I sat up and stared at him, in horror. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">I started thinking hard about what he was saying. How could anyone know about Saki and me and how could I answer this question? I didn't deny it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:20pt"><span style="font-size:12pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(32,33,36);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Do you eat meals sent by someone? Someone is poisoning you, to make you both break up. To make you hate him.</span></p></span><p style="box-sizing:inherit;font-size:14px;line-height:21px;font-family:OpenSans,Arial,sans-serif;margin:0px 0px 1rem;max-width:100%;color:rgb(31,31,31)"><b>graphic source </b><span style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif;font-size:small;color:rgb(34,34,34)"><a href="https://lakpura.com/pages/devil-dance">https://lakpura.com/pages/devil-dance</a></span></p></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-68060486816788491972021-06-03T02:49:00.000-07:002021-06-03T02:50:37.516-07:00The Little Witch of Modera<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif">Chapter One </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">CHUBS</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">What would drive a man to cut off his dead lover's head? Its not easy. That is the thought running through my mind as I race to meet my writing deadline at the Weekend Financial Review.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">I am frustrated. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><i><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">"No, you cannot interview the wife, because she is just too tired to talk anymore,"</span></i><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif"> says my editor. I stare angrily at him down the phone. I can picture him running around the office with his sleeves rolled up and his collar awry. He has nice grey eyes. He does not take leave, even on his birthday or on Ramadan. He goes home at 2 am, after everyone else has left the evening shift. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">How will I write my piece on the Midway Murder? All I can think about is this buff sexy ole cop dude who has now hung himself in the middle of the jungle. He had annoyingly taken the mystery with him. A mystery that has this entire island talking. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><i><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">"How do you know the wife didn't have something to do with this?"</span></i><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif"> says my mango friend Faa, in the middle of feeding her cats, in a rather manky dressing gown. Through the WhatsApp video, I can see them plowing restlessly through her house, on her laundry, on her countertops, on her washing machine, in her armchairs, under her bed. There seem to be cats everywhere, but there were only four at the last count. I told her not to increase her population of animals, but I know the next time she sees a kitten or some geriatric dog she will feel sorry for it. A crow popped its head in at the window and cawed raucously for food. Faa has named it Rasta. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">"How do you know- she must have got fed up with this old bugger messing around with the girl and she must have done something. Like a hooniyama," said Faa.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">Hooniyama is the Sri Lankan word for Voodoo. There is a God in charge of this process, named the God in Charge of the Village. I'm surprised at her because Faa is a Muslim.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">"What kind of hooniyama can you do?" </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">"Anu knows we should ask her, there are lots of things… that can be done" says Faa, evasively. I feel that she has already consulted Anu and is not ready to discuss it yet. Faa was creative in thinking up ways to discretely torture her husband when he annoyed her. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">This is interesting. Why didn't I think of this before?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">As a journalist and an ex-wife myself I can begin to imagine the drama behind this murder story. And feel enraged for us all, the dead man, the murdered other-woman and the grieving wife and children. No one plans these things they have a way of happening. Well, sometimes wives plan things. But we will come to that later. I need to finish my article. My petrol tank has corroded and Im without transport too, which is bad in the middle of a pandemic. I have to get through all of this without getting this damned virus and spreading it at home. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><span style="font-family:Arial,sans-serif">My current husband keeps trying to be funny with me but I told him to stay one meter away. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd1PfLsS3AN47Bdw9GqCzAsvK5WVhtVI1JN2jFBDYk89zGLqJm45VxebvhgSGdTWMLbDuRm0zJ95qob-F8Mb6rN3-7R1u0YHBikFcSdDQyMUohSB68MbRQ0PevqztqG9yFYAE7w/s1600/2017-07-23-737621.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd1PfLsS3AN47Bdw9GqCzAsvK5WVhtVI1JN2jFBDYk89zGLqJm45VxebvhgSGdTWMLbDuRm0zJ95qob-F8Mb6rN3-7R1u0YHBikFcSdDQyMUohSB68MbRQ0PevqztqG9yFYAE7w/s320/2017-07-23-737621.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6969502867357236306" /></a></div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif">An advert at a local Kovila in Hanwella saying they do not do Mantras or Gurukan, which is another word for Hooniyam, but that they do other things. <br><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 8pt;line-height:107%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Calibri,sans-serif"><br></p> </div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-74281396091502332742021-04-10T01:38:00.001-07:002021-04-10T01:38:30.775-07:00Flying fist, noble heart<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><u><span lang="EN"></span></u></p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWfUQ6J8EShq1nM3XjmXpohTk5enYAAgZT1cc2OgyCS_bq0-2lvB7gKov2mAXlf7LPCs1ZdR-3FmChPh2p6iWWgZQetGaMNB7VnLn3nt49Af_dzkcrT_145T6RQKVITDliprfUA/s1600/download-710805.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWfUQ6J8EShq1nM3XjmXpohTk5enYAAgZT1cc2OgyCS_bq0-2lvB7gKov2mAXlf7LPCs1ZdR-3FmChPh2p6iWWgZQetGaMNB7VnLn3nt49Af_dzkcrT_145T6RQKVITDliprfUA/s320/download-710805.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6949445684306251330" /></a><br><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN">An appreciation of Grand Master Hassan Khalid founder of Fei Quan Do International</span></p><br> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN">It was with the greatest sorrow I heard of the sudden passing away of our beloved martial arts Master the Grandmaster Hassan Khalid founder of the Fei Quan Do international school of karate in Colombo. He passed away last Thursday at a ripe age of 72 with nary a warning of his departure and having lived life to the very fullest. A couple of days before his sudden passing he had been conducting training as usual at his Wellawatte class.<br> I remember him from years of attending his karate classes in Dematagoda and Wellawatte, after my quest for personal security and independence, brought me to train in karate. In the first place I had always been inspired by the 70s film Kung Fu featuring David Carradine which introduced me to the silent and noble beauty of the Shao Lin tradition. Grandmaster Khalid's philosophies were very similar too, with more of an emphasis on internal mastery, discipline and effort rather than of crushing enemies or giving the ego-free reign. I remember the first day I went to his class and was terribly worried as to what to expect, but he called new students to the front and made them feel welcome and very at ease. I also remember a lot of humour bandied by long-suffering Master Khalid where he compared our earnest side kicking to the clumsy slow actions of dogs pissing on lamposts...this still has me giggling even now...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN">To be frank, I was hopelessly lazy and slow, not to mention uncoordinated, but Master Khalid was immensely patient with us matured ladies and gave everyone a chance. (Thankfully ladies were allowed to do the easier form of push-ups so that their knuckles would not get scarred etc.) He was very motivational, not only in training martial arts but expounding the deepest philosophies collected from a long and eventful life of travel around the world as a mariner, prior to his opening of the School of Karate. Sometimes his training was quite exhausting but took us to levels of strength, courage and discipline that we did not know ourselves capable of. His training was with the purpose of mentoring a fully rounded and balanced person. Along with his success as a trainer par excellence, he also balanced a wonderfully large family of eight children and always spoke lovingly of his wife's good qualities. His noble mindset was that he was not interested in accumulating money, but wanted only to do a good service to his students and to be a breadwinner to the last. So he kept the class fees very reasonable and would often waive the fees for less privileged students. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN">Master Khalid was a shining personality who always lived life to the fullest, training and inspiring thousands of students not only in karate but in the other aspects of how to live a good life and find happiness. He himself was the epitome of strength, decency, integrity, tolerance, liberality and so many good human qualities apart from being a fearless karate pro, deft with his fighting skills. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN">From him, I learned, no matter that I was in a society that intimidates a weak female that I can be self-confident and unafraid. I remember telling him at the time that I was probably one of the few women who had a chance to occasionally use some of the fighting tactics we learned when I had to administer some punishment to a pervert in a bus. However as always advised in karate, I did not go pushing for fights but have always used it more as a confidence booster which I sorely needed, as well as to actually avoid conflict. Personally, I think that every young girl should train in martial arts to give them the confidence and security to face this world, especially in the light of various recent happenings. Karate training is also one of the best work-outs you can have today, which is why Master Khalid was extremely fit and full of life until practically the last day. I know that he would certainly have loved what he did and been happiest as he was allowed to keep doing the work he loved till the last. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;line-height:115%;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial,sans-serif"><span lang="EN">Though he is no more, we will continue to be touched by the magic, charm and vitality of his inspiring personality and we will always have our Grandmaster in our prayers. We are honoured and enriched to have been his students. </span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir1kdb6UFYNxxspFo57FGwyKt1_dr3RgPJBfxHgdrdHQE8KPz_MvKKrdmkQIDyCJn6W-ebUG8HuObZgWnzRoyK3dduBPq_QzhUZBpgJuNTLjehCasQ-TleYgnLupVBcM3aehnkCw/s1600/download-713428.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir1kdb6UFYNxxspFo57FGwyKt1_dr3RgPJBfxHgdrdHQE8KPz_MvKKrdmkQIDyCJn6W-ebUG8HuObZgWnzRoyK3dduBPq_QzhUZBpgJuNTLjehCasQ-TleYgnLupVBcM3aehnkCw/s320/download-713428.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6949445697407107826" /></a><span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif"></span><br></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-41473225299609644542020-11-16T23:07:00.001-08:002020-11-16T23:07:54.959-08:00The Life and Times of ALJUHARA<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style=""><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"><span style="font-size:12pt">….ie more of that rahu/ </span>kethu<span style="font-size:12pt">/ </span>aturu<span style="font-size:12pt"> dasha crap</span><br></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">Its about two years since I last wrote for WOW officially and may I say I'm glad to be back. Quite a lot has happened in my life in these two years and you can be sure I will be updating you about it, in occasionally painful detail. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">Now where do I start? .</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">I have a lovely young friend in office who studies horoscopes in her spare time. I mean it very seriously, its like you can have a Diploma in Mumbo Jumbo, supervised by a number of lecturers in various sub topics, the main one is the Astrology Diploma and the sub topics include stuff like Herbal Remedies, Exorcism, and Spells. (ok this may sound like Hogwarts to you but this is good old fashioned Mattakkuliya where she is studying this stuff from an ancient and venerable guru, the type who probably takes about half a minute to turn a yellowed page in his crumbling antique textbooks….using of course, a shaking, saliva-moistened old digit…) And she takes this very seriously and she is GOOD in this stuff if I do guarantee so myself. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">Well about two years ago, after being bullied no end by me to read my chart, Sulakshani, for that is her name, told me that I would a) buy a land b) move out of my family home. <span style="font-size:12pt">and c) become fat.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">You may say this wasn't really a prediction, but rather a set of things I should do or would feel like doing, or as I prefer to think, things that I would subconsciously want to do once I had heard about the prediction. …however to me they were quite impactful, serious things. And not really things you can do as easily as all that. Except perhaps the getting fat thing, but then would you want to?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">Land is blooming expensive in this day and age in Sri Lanka and my salary barely keeps me alive from month to month, Ive been living in my ancestral (read:parents) home for the last 25 years and have established it as a comfort zone par excellence, mosquitoes, porcupines<a style="color:blue" href="#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:12pt">[1]</span></span></span></a> and all, and last but not least, who on Earth wants to actually <b>get fat because of your horscope</b>?!?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">Well, I began to sit around thinking what a materially useless life I had been having for the last ten years of working, although I enjoyed the work, there was nothing to show for it and although I enjoyed life I didn't know where I would live if I had to move out of this crowded nest…the more I thought about it the more I ached to have my own swamp, my own square feet, my own home to hang my hat in…this idea was followed by months of frenzied scanning of HIT Ad and all the copycat adz pamphlets of rival newspapers…and week after week I had to carefully decipher what people wrote about their properties…I actually became pretty good at this " <i>near the 122 bus route</i>" sounded good, until you find out that this bus only passes through 3 times a day, the rest of the time you basically have to hitch hike on passing bullock carts, " <i>peaceful country environment</i>" means you have to walk 20 minutes to get a panadol and "<i>close to the city</i>" means your windows rattle every 7 minutes when staff buses go past. "i<i>n close proximity to the XYZ Balika VIdyalaya</i>" had its own hideous implications which I leave you to figure out. And leaving all of that aside, the sheer price of these Sri Lankan "perches" was astounding. Translated into foreign currency Sri Lankan villagers were asking me sums of money per square foot which could have bought me good suburbs in many American States!…I was confounded! It just didn't seem to be something I could bring about…I went on a number of interesting and expensive land-spotting foreys and took lots of photographs of Kaduwela, Hanwella and romantic Labugama…up in these leech infested hills bordering onto Ratnapura, illiterate villagers continued to cheerfully gobsmack me with thundering quotes for their little (and completely deforested) plots of useless marsh land until I actively hated them. These people hadn't worked for this wealth, they had simply inherited stuff and stripped it, cut all the trees, eaten and of course drunk the proceeds and now were trying to rip me off royally by selling me denuded craters of slanted earth….but at the same time, man, was the scenery gorgeous, I could stand there all day looking around me…this was mother Earth in all her beauty and I wanted a small patch at least for my final resting place.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt">…and well, yes, I fell for one of the marshes, it is a very tiny modest little marsh, predictably treeless, although luckily bordered by rubber plantations and a distant river which they hadn't managed to pollute too much yet, in the salubrious surrounds of the former Sitawaka Kingdom, where long ago a king had boiled<a style="color:blue" href="#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:12pt">[2]</span></span></span></a> a lot of monks because they would not absolve him of the crime of patricide…and yes I moved out of my nest, a big step for me, but since im 40 (for crying out loud, it was about time!)..</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif">As to the getting fat part…Id say fat is a relative concept…I was probably fat to start with although with difficulty I am retaining my BMI within healthy limits to ensure that my diabetes dosnt kill me too quickly…But you know what? I kind of think Sulakshi does in fact know her astrology stuff quite well. Drop us a mail if you'd like your chart read too <a href="mailto:hanwella7@gmail.com">hanwella7@gmail.com</a>.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwgsva_szRXz9dTdNVqyagebyXPHLFS3dekc_xkJIspXpPTfxEaaPyrk1JKk3-YgwaxUo5txfl0uIVPGl9BgWahKd2rHMi9bCRtzkNvMpaE7IUOfKWYr2dqDW-2s-WboTd9Q5Uhg/s1600/ha-774965.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwgsva_szRXz9dTdNVqyagebyXPHLFS3dekc_xkJIspXpPTfxEaaPyrk1JKk3-YgwaxUo5txfl0uIVPGl9BgWahKd2rHMi9bCRtzkNvMpaE7IUOfKWYr2dqDW-2s-WboTd9Q5Uhg/s320/ha-774965.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6895986072798055826" /></a><br></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifGf_FHIKH8ROKpuI3-U_WUKMIko92tHoLsr4_XIn9WRvSkfqpQC8S_ZkhAtRHGRXB2NqHJsiAYYL0MtwIqxQfc9-nwWEOYBcF8nOTIF8UFC_aIpYfrEc9KJv6RS2v2PzgOybBoQ/s1600/hafe-777717.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifGf_FHIKH8ROKpuI3-U_WUKMIko92tHoLsr4_XIn9WRvSkfqpQC8S_ZkhAtRHGRXB2NqHJsiAYYL0MtwIqxQfc9-nwWEOYBcF8nOTIF8UFC_aIpYfrEc9KJv6RS2v2PzgOybBoQ/s320/hafe-777717.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6895986085336314018" /></a><br></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bHMZObazPW33PeFQTAMlQlxmlVe-h7LpP6S3USJqlJ776bOfgKluTZK8JrvKfOrCxIMK14CkqI7BEtHW6zVwUSmsJrDIAB812g0szFeRHrjBlbb_2gXMakAkV-vrNWJHwZX0Nw/s1600/hannex-779772.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bHMZObazPW33PeFQTAMlQlxmlVe-h7LpP6S3USJqlJ776bOfgKluTZK8JrvKfOrCxIMK14CkqI7BEtHW6zVwUSmsJrDIAB812g0szFeRHrjBlbb_2gXMakAkV-vrNWJHwZX0Nw/s320/hannex-779772.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6895986091545521954" /></a><br></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9H36hKuiJJSVq_7gvxdagNWVZ1dRKb3x48FM4euLrUMG7UtNlsayoaCq9F0FHXFZS0i6cOjBZkAWhz94CEIyUCP7BE65VsIBiKRwH_3xdL4NJ4G6LAxYMs3v6AFHydXxIfWr9Pw/s1600/hannex2-782272.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9H36hKuiJJSVq_7gvxdagNWVZ1dRKb3x48FM4euLrUMG7UtNlsayoaCq9F0FHXFZS0i6cOjBZkAWhz94CEIyUCP7BE65VsIBiKRwH_3xdL4NJ4G6LAxYMs3v6AFHydXxIfWr9Pw/s320/hannex2-782272.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6895986101839050322" /></a><br></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTa6tD_z59SxBrt-NWmIgf_lDBQUjb-776-BlncA7WjCa9G8K0XefeSnnkNyXBwLJ5L70zDDhE9Zk4SuQvKMLL45lHvRy6Kry3WNWe4H3jMorS66-nT1pGANZhjRzUB5CISgmmg/s1600/harroo-784965.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTa6tD_z59SxBrt-NWmIgf_lDBQUjb-776-BlncA7WjCa9G8K0XefeSnnkNyXBwLJ5L70zDDhE9Zk4SuQvKMLL45lHvRy6Kry3WNWe4H3jMorS66-nT1pGANZhjRzUB5CISgmmg/s320/harroo-784965.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6895986114369834178" /></a><br></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt"> </p> <div style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><br clear="all"> <hr align="left" size="1" width="33%"> <div id="gmail-ftn1"> <p class="gmail-MsoFootnoteText" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:10pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><a style="color:blue" href="#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:10pt">[1]</span></span></span></a> This is a completely different story </p> </div> <div id="gmail-ftn2"> <p class="gmail-MsoFootnoteText" style="margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:10pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><a style="color:blue" href="#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span class="gmail-MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align:super"><span style="font-size:10pt">[2]</span></span></span></a> Or drowned, I cant really remember </p> </div> </div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-2365916449679687542020-04-13T08:33:00.001-07:002020-04-13T08:33:48.791-07:00Sins of the Fathers<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-87eb0cca-7fff-5ffd-477c-c7a73093ff92"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"></span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">COVID19 as a manifestation of the divine feminine</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><br></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"></span></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY49j4TzrFBkx-z7iM4hTqbzjpg5f5FMysrXR3qRiWc41C6mvpjEnJw2tqvAxmqUIEviPBrHVTUmTO1ORzP-nmOzYZWOVPMkqXZ3e6aMMMB9X9LqlCS1s1bwOs6gWJVaa0BnPYTw/s1600/Divine-Feminine-728799.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY49j4TzrFBkx-z7iM4hTqbzjpg5f5FMysrXR3qRiWc41C6mvpjEnJw2tqvAxmqUIEviPBrHVTUmTO1ORzP-nmOzYZWOVPMkqXZ3e6aMMMB9X9LqlCS1s1bwOs6gWJVaa0BnPYTw/s320/Divine-Feminine-728799.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6815219871720137826" /></a><br></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><b style="font-weight:normal"><br></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Finally, we are forced to stay in one place, in one quiet time period and to think. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Finally, we can reevaluate the rules that we were born into, the reality that we were made to accept was true. A hidden disease is destroying average people like you and me in hundreds, in thousands, it is unstoppable. Collective human intelligence is losing pitiably when pitted against an invisible spherical microbe. Thousands of years of faith, belief, aesthetics, religion, scientific advancement, medicine, technology, commerce, wealth, ancient wisdom, and modern homo sapien cunning- all bow humbly to a radiant microscopic red sphere with a halo of horns. Advanced white man, who thought he was in the same mould as God, is brought to his knees, the richer and prouder he is, the more terrified. Brave soldiers in medical gowns keep falling in the face of this onslaught. The rest of human society are suddenly aimless like drugged zombies, clawing pathetically for toilet rolls.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><b style="font-weight:normal"><br></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">A few people already knew that something like this could happen, and they understood why. They tried continuously to warn us. But society was too set with its </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hkV5PNnLqDw" style="text-decoration:none"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">"bullshit rules"</span></a><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">: layers of false beliefs that hold us back. The lies our fathers told us. Conditioning brainwashed into us. The mantra repeated in every social group,..demanding that children grow to adults rote learning more bullshit, for them to aspire only to work as slaves for a system that locks them into a mindless cycle of work, consumption, relationship, marriage, responsibility, drudgery, sickness and debt, only for them to force their own offspring in turn to slave for the same system in an evil and foolish generational cycle... </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><b style="font-weight:normal"><br></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">It starts with "Go forth and multiply." </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">The words of an invisible supremacist male creator in holy books of 70% of humans belonging to the major world religions, telling the naked ape to procreate and in effect implying that planet earth was his to dispose of. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Mother nature, in contrast, visible tangible to anyone who looked around, or ever breathed her oxygen or ever ate of her produce, a nurturing long-suffering female, exhausted from weeping, raped continuously until she could take no more. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">The COVID pandemic rears her head like an enraged female creator, come back to destroy for the purpose of creation. A divine feminie to cross the eras of masculine energy that promises to ruin planet earth.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">For look at how differently the virus itself treats men and women: even in affluent societies which handle the pandemic more systematically, many more men die, their lives are disrupted and desperate, pointless male pastimes such as war, sport, politics, night clubs, pubs and serial adultery are the first to grind to a halt. Then there is a reversal of status at every level. The higher and more advanced the countries the more the sheer death. Countries which profited from dead things like black gold are soon to bow to agricultural economies for food when paper money loses meaning. Suddenly the humble farmer, the creator of food, becomes a shining warrior against starvation and factories of toys matter no more. Countries regret that only 2 per cent of their GDP was spent on health, while humans know that health is the greatest wealth. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Consider the backdrop: There were long-standing human population statistics that the apes in their conceit chose to ignore. Each day 380,000 humans are born, and only 130,000 die of all causes. So </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:700;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">each day</span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> the population of the Earth increases by 250,000 greedy naked humanoid animals who seek to consume, destroy, and exploit nature, all other species, and each other. So even if the virus kills 250,000 people A DAY for the next year it will still not be able to right the balance. But it might do just that anyway. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Because although the virus itself will have to work itself out naturally, its repercussions among the broken cogs of society will kill many more from unemployment, malnourishment, poverty, hatred, war, suffering, suicide, abuse, violence and neglect. Many of us will continue with lives that are more like living death. </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:italic;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Is this what you wanted, our father?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">And how did it become right for humans to multiply so indiscriminately, and to grab whatever they could for themselves and burn the rest of it? What ideologies are to blame? What makes this insane and unchecked human reproduction acceptable? Religion, tradition, culture, politics, capitalism, patriarchy- all playing together in a powerful tightly knit structure but now all bowing cowering to an enraged mother nature who has had enough. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">And yet this is only a minor tantrum, typically because she is female, raging in retaliation from centuries of abuse, directing her violence randomly and </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:italic;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">ineffectively. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">For her to have been most effective she could have come up with a plague which rendered the ape infertile, but no. Sadly, there is a real possibility that with social systems broken down and women lacking access to contraception, an extra three to nine million of unplanned pregnancies, including unsafe abortions and maternal deaths, could result from just the first set of lockdowns worldwide. Thereby leading to more teeming human suffering. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><b style="font-weight:normal"><br></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">So this time the tantrums of the divine feminine will probably not completely destroy us.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-weight:400;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">But we have been warned, this is only the beginning. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><br class="gmail-Apple-interchange-newline"></p></span></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-46895559481841454562020-04-07T01:40:00.000-07:002020-04-07T01:50:33.039-07:00Silver on the Palm Leaves<div dir="ltr">
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Its the 7th of April 2020 and Im writing from a beautiful Island named Sri Lanka inside a curfew, which is different from lockdown in that people actually get arrested if they are caught walking about, in theory. However, in a strange way, rules only seem to apply to people who fear the rules. Anxiety is for those who accept reality in its macabre extremes, and within each of us there is the capacity for suffering or for calm entirely based on the reality we see. Even now there are people on Facebook who order 5 kilos of pork and lots of cooking oil and seem to be well-stocked for a party at home. In my house, we are barely eating. We have enough food to last us about ten days and I find that it helps not to think beyond that. I believe the Buddha said that seven days well applied is enough for a human to attain arahathood and then nothing would matter. So finally now is my chance- and I would have three days to spare. I find myself incredibly mindful of things now. Mindful of the last bit of pepper, since the Government will not be importing any more and is turning Chinese ships away. Their plan has been to make us self sufficient in agriculture or something like that, something I've always supported. I hope I live to see this. I don't know if I will live beyond the stocks of Insulin I have since I'm a diabetic and even the food we have managed to stock up such as rice, pasta and potatoes is absolutely what diabetics should not be eating. This morning I woke up terrified that I would become blind. </div>
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I cannot justify why I imagined that because I am certainly more careful about managing my diabetes now than I was a month ago! </div>
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TO be honest, I have not hated this condition because it made me appreciate the food that I am allowed to eat, like veggies and greens and red rice, and it kept me away from the kind of junk food that Donald Trumps seems to like eating, which many people cannot seem to stay away from.</div>
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Back to having Diabetes in the middle of the Pandemic, well I don't know where I will get my next bit of Metformin so it should be interesting.</div>
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these are interesting times and if I stop writing a number of things could have happened - who knows maybe my keyboard needs repairs. There sure as hell is no place available for so much as replacing a mouse these days. One has to be mindful of everything one does, even if it is typing too fast.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qpivgrR5bA2Sd7P4srT3eRq1c3WZj2iB1NyIGXWVj8HDUPL0h7D47GrA9_1DGgt2JzFCW4aXRT6vYH9cZokTon-NWCQBBUD0a1_Z8okGaoj715KR8-fPvLr6AaNZMpUhojX6FQ/s1600/2018-12-19-765194.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6812887002638272514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qpivgrR5bA2Sd7P4srT3eRq1c3WZj2iB1NyIGXWVj8HDUPL0h7D47GrA9_1DGgt2JzFCW4aXRT6vYH9cZokTon-NWCQBBUD0a1_Z8okGaoj715KR8-fPvLr6AaNZMpUhojX6FQ/s320/2018-12-19-765194.jpg" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Here is a photo from a hotel in Tangalle where my husband and I had a lovely escape a few years ago. Its not very posh, but then neither are we. At least we can marvel at the beauty of the sea. It was a happy interlude. It would have been happier if we could have shared the expenses but since he was unemployed for the last 15 years it was me who paid for most of it. I have written a book about him which you can read one day. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-28085672197504507472020-02-17T01:33:00.000-08:002020-02-17T02:18:58.182-08:00The Strange Case of ALJUHARA<div dir="ltr">
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<span name="place"><b><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> - </span></b>sometimes – because of a name, lives touch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Because of a name, lives connected in strange ways. </span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">What's in a name, you may ask? Ever since I divorced and changed my name at roughly the same time Im prepared to admit there was some effect definitely. Underworld criminals probably swear by their aliases and their lives depend on them. So do singers, actors, artists and writers, don't you think? Madonna Prince and Shakira would probably project quite the same image if they were called Bandaramanike. Or would they , who can say? Well Sri Lankans are probably one bunch who spend a lot of time and money (on drunken astrologers) deciding on names for their babies and they say there is a serious reason for that. Your name can decide your life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Why do you call your self <b>"aljuhara"</b> some people ask me (or actually they say <i>mokoda bung mey aljuhara case eka</i>?" or something like that) and its only now after almost two years of writing this column under a myriad of different identities that I'm getting the chance to tell you the background about my pen name, and of course…. you can count on this being another schizoid story…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Years ago I watched a movie called <b>"Jewel of the Nile"</b> which the child in me thoroughly enjoyed. If I tell you that that was my favourite movie, it may describe my character to you. Playful, dreamy, fun loving, and not very serious, someone who believed in happy endings. It had all those ingredients of a dream romance, there was the lovely scatter brained novelist lady, Joan Wilder ( with <i>perfect</i> legs and a tiny red nose), a heroic dashing action man, (played by Michael Douglas, bless his white cotton socks) and a vile but charming villain( predictably Arab) and also an absolutely amazing character, the actual "Jewel" (which is what the words al juhara mean) who is a Sufi. The adventure, danger and romance in this story leave him completely untouched but mildly bemused and the best picture that comes to mind is of him sitting peacefully deep in meditation on top of a speeding train while people are rolling about fighting near killing each other a few carriages away. I totally admired that cool aplomb and that's the character I wanted to be although of course the child in me was completely fascinated by the romance, the action and the adventure of the story. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Another part of me completely delighted at the life of Joan Wilder who seemed to be having my <b>dream job,</b> and being a beautiful lady writer who actually gets paid and gets to go places to carry out the job she loves best. Ah, such a lucky creature, what an inspiration I would think. So when it came to choosing my pen name, there I had my two favorites and the rest of course you know- my best comic writing comes out under the nickname of <b>aljuhara</b> and sometimes I write under my own name (serious stuff) and even more serious stuff under a few other nicknames one of which is Joan Wilder. For all these I have booked the usual internet presences such as gmail, Face Book and a blog here and there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">About a month back I received a mail to my "Joan Wilder" email from a female telling me her name was Joan Wilder too and asking me if I was willing to sell the email account. She also asked me out of curiosity how come I had this email. A lovely chatty direct way of writing she has and so I thought she was a US school girl somewhere and replied that long ago Id seen a movie I really enjoyed and these were characters in it who I had related to, so I had taken these nicknames. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">What she told me next was so amazing that I had to do a lot of research to check if it was the truth and now since Im satisfied with the answer, heres the email for you. </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">hi Chandrika! </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Thanks for writing. you live in Sri Lanka, eh? When i was little, in school, a long time ago, i did a long report on Sri Lanka -- then Ceylon -- and remember feeling that it was a special place to me. I've never been there. I live near Boston, Massachusetts.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">well, here's a story for you…. My friend, Diane Thomas, wrote the original screenplay for Romancing the Stone. It was in 1980-1 or so. We were roommates just before she began writing it. I moved to NYC and she moved out the beach in L.A. - Malibu -- and committed to writing a script. She worked on it for a year on an old Ibm electric typewriter. At the end of the year, she gave it to a friend in the business who gave it to his agent. A week later, the agent phoned her up and said he'd sold it to Michael Douglas for $250,000, which at that time was the most an unknown writer had been paid for a script. So there were articles in the newspapers about it.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">After the movie was released and did so well, Diane went on to writing more screenplays, including having a three-picture deal with Steven Spielberg. I spent the summer of 1985 with Diane at her then beautiful house in Malibu. at the end of the summer, I went back to NYC and she was going to come visit me for two weeks. A week before she was to come, she was killed instantly in a car crash a mile from her home. She crashed into a tree at the side of the road. The car was given to her by Michael Douglas as payment for her helping to think up the sequel to Romancing the Stone, which she had refused to write.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">So. she named the character after me, although the character herself I see to be based on a combination of both of our lives at the time we were roommates.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">warmly,</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: rgb(136 , 136 , 136);"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>joan</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">If you are curious now, and you haven't seen or cant remember the movie run along and borrow it, because it will be great fun now just as it was then!( warning not in front of the little kids because there are one or two very steamy scenes too) but remember too that this was written by a city waitress based on the lives of two struggling student journalists and while it led to a magical interplay of character, fantasy and tom foolery resulting in a movie which delighted millions around the world, the happy story has a sad ending for the writer, who died as mentioned in a car crash in the dream car she received as payment for her talent. ( Didn't Hercule Poirot once say "<i>Beware of the day your dreams come true , for then you will have nothing more to dream about</i> ,") A part of the romance lives on in my new friend who is the character behind the name, and is a talented, graceful and very young looking grandmother with three children and two grandchildren, living in Boston . Life is bittersweet we know and names make people, and sometimes make people meet for better or for worse….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Or maybe its just destiny finding an excuse... </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-size: 12pt;"></span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-49072211731476516952020-02-13T02:23:00.000-08:002020-02-13T02:24:03.686-08:00The Pusheekat Diaries<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><b> </b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Greetings and warm regards from Purradise.</span><br></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglE9QHUSfzJwFNrlAizlfrg198NQSdTJ4nAJkdhCLZii4hBRZMpv5m2JcLyboApo78ITF89EUdSR3Of18R4tCXoIbwz3hyphenhyphenCmCZ0Fr17hPn51ta6_LcR6a4hX-h0uS2YVXRsdgTIA/s1600/37af4360-5cd6-47f5-aad1-576fe47b3e92-743698.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglE9QHUSfzJwFNrlAizlfrg198NQSdTJ4nAJkdhCLZii4hBRZMpv5m2JcLyboApo78ITF89EUdSR3Of18R4tCXoIbwz3hyphenhyphenCmCZ0Fr17hPn51ta6_LcR6a4hX-h0uS2YVXRsdgTIA/s320/37af4360-5cd6-47f5-aad1-576fe47b3e92-743698.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6792874939115641506" /></a><br></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">It is I, Peachy the 23<sup>rd</sup>, descendant from a long line of regular backyard cats, distantly related to Serious the 48<sup>th</sup>, who was a rather foreign I hear having been brought into the country on a Portuguese galleon in the time of the Kandyan Kings. Knowing her character though Im sure she was not really formally imported, but just scooted into the ship kitchen when no one was looking and got locked accidentally in the provision cupboard, only to be discovered and let out in a hot nightmare of an island named Ceylon…cat habits, just like Hewman habits, die hard. Cats habits actually die harder. Trust me.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Well, Im Peachy, or anyway that's what they named me although I am actually gray and white with yellow eyes. My mistress is a woman we nicknamed Ally, who writes letters to the weekly papyrus- Hewmans like to sit and look at these flaps of crackly white stuff for a long time, whereas we just like to scratch it to shreds, or pee on them- even though in many households, we get our dinner on them. (If dinner is too drippy the papyrus melts and we have to lick the floor…boring.)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">I have been keeping a series of notes on life which Im happy to share with you in your own language thanks to this friendly lady heuwman who has volunteered to translate from the Mewish…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Anyway here I am talking to you good Hewmans and explaining all about us catpeopple. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">For a start, for example,it's a myth that we have nine lives, please get that our of your heads. We are just as mortal as any other animal, we just look a lot alike so its easy to replace us – that is probably the foundation of this silly misconception.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">We are delicate. Really.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Then there is the myth that we like eating rats.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">We prefer sardines or salayo. If you look at this objectively for a minute you will easily realize that in the natural state there is really NO WAY for a cat to catch a sardine, so this means we need an intermediary. That of course is you, my dear long suffering host race…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">To make sure that you understand what we want from you( fish, a hot lap or cow secretions) and give it to us(- unconditionally-), we have spent hundreds of years evolving a system of mews, purrs , fur explosions and quiet thrumming vibrations which those of you who are cat-sensitive will understand even subconsciously and the rest will positively hate. (Unfortunately there seems to be no middle path although we are working on it)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">In return we provide good examples of stress free living.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">It is known that spending as little as ten minutes with your cat is good for your heart ( unless of course said cat has done something under the sink- in which case it might be not so good) the truth is we show you Hewman people how to relax, how to not bother, and how to totally accept ourselves (and you of course)…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Now how bad can that be?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">………………………</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Next week: Diaries of an ordinary Sri Lankan house cat.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><b>The Pusheekat Diaries <span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><b><span style="font-size:11pt">………………………………..<span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">by Pushee.<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><b><span style="font-size:11pt"><span> </span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><b><span style="font-size:11pt">September 30<span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">I cant believe it – the year that seemed to have just started is now three quarters complete. Im older and –wiser, I think: Ive seen so much in this time.<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Patchy decided to Expect.<span> </span>.It made her young and frisky again. We were all expecting with her, but since she is an indecently old cougar way past reproductive age with a wound down biological clock….the catlet she got was actually rather <i>dead</i>. So she lost it and of course resolutely and determinedly as mother cats are supposed to, she spent so much time looking for it and mistress Ally had to console her and explain why the baby had had to go in a small cardboard box. <span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Our kind hewmie family <span> </span>tried bringing another substitute catlet from a woman in Kotikawatta who has 160 dogs and 40 cats. This woman is amazing and spent some time explaining how she lived her life for the animals and how she worked like a machine and cooked 25 kilos of rice a day.<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">I personally thought it was a bit creepy when she told me about 160 dogs in cages ..and cats too.<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Let me emphasize this :cats cant live caged, it's a fate worse than death as far as we are concerned. The thought of it makes me want to gnaw my legs off personally. <span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">But to be incarcerated WITH dogs around , now that is concentration camp stuff. Let me change the subject somehow…<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><b><span style="font-size:11pt">October 2<span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Ms Ally was crowing about two things she had done today. One was eaten bulath for the first time in her life (goodness knows what possessed her) and the other was to get bitten by a freshwater leech. I don't know the gruesome details but I think we should all be thankful for small things in life, such as BLOOD COAGULATION. Its scarey when you have blood that dosnt obey this principle, and oozes on and on and doesn't dry even when it hits the floor; her bitten leg smells so WEIRD my ears went back suddenly. How did she get a leech bite in red hot <span><span>Colombo</span></span>? Well, Ms Ally is always going off looking for land, and since she has no money to really buy any and dosnt really do the brokering thing either; I suspect that this is the closest she gets to <span> </span>"budget tourism" taken to a new level of stingy…I know she loves this wild island, although it brings her grief. She can't even find a committed man here, generally I think because most Sri Lankan guys don't like cats and she has too many. <span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">ETB is ok though, he generally leaves us alone and grudgingly feeds us with the belief that this will help his future prospects…<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span name="City"> <span name="place"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><span style="font-size:11pt">Did you KNOW by the way , that leeches are one of the FEW mindless, spineless annelids that care for their young , by carrying them around and feeding them? That we found on the interweb when she was trying to read how to stop the bleeding and that makes you stop and think. "Leech"is such a negative word for a maligned invertebrate who really doesn't hurt you, just takes a little blood and they are used in medicine for amazing procedures to do with keeping blood circulating . You knew that but did you also know it actually looks after its offspring giving it food and transport and protecting it like mammals do-<span> </span>though it dosnt have much of a brain? . <span> </span>One wonders how they got such negative publicity. But now you know what they are good for!<span></span></span></p></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-7625569132581473982020-01-06T23:41:00.000-08:002020-01-07T02:07:52.659-08:00THE MAGIC OF BREATHWORKs<div dir="ltr">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><i><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #4a86e8; white-space: pre-wrap;">In July 2019 after ten years in a tumultuous relationship, I picked up the courage to walk out. I thought I would be devastated. I had loved him for more than a decade, he had rescued me after my first marriage completely broke down. It seemed to me that I desperately needed a man and needed love and intimacy and could not do without it. He was handsome, beyond my league in that way, and oh so manly. For ten years I felt I would never find a match like him again in my life. He took my dependancy for granted and like some people do when you have someone dependant on you, he became complacent in his importance to me. His friends and alcoholism took precedence. I had tried many many times to leave him but the sheer gut-wrenching thought of not having him nearby and of being completely alone in this world as I thought, was terrifying, particularly for a lonely introvert like me. </span></i></span><br />
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-d3d316e3-7fff-163b-5d39-ad5cb82efd80"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THE MAGIC OF BREATHWORKs</span></span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-d3d316e3-7fff-163b-5d39-ad5cb82efd80"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By Chandrika Gadiewasam</span></span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-d3d316e3-7fff-163b-5d39-ad5cb82efd80"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is hard for me to describe Holotropic Breathworks</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">TM</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to you. It is a system of breathing exercises which can send you into non-ordinary states of consciousness and expanded awareness leading you to find POWER WITHIN which you can harness. It reaches into hidden past trauma, and releases the pain, leading to much-needed catharsis, and unlike in meditation, there is nothing for you to actually DO (except breath!). You don’t have to sit in difficult postures. You can fall asleep if you want (most people don’t). You just have to release yourself, trustingly, to the loving Universe.</span></span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-d3d316e3-7fff-163b-5d39-ad5cb82efd80"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well, honestly I can’t find the correct words to tell you how powerful it is. This isn’t a story about walking out of a relationship or breaking out of writer’s block, or banishing lifelong phobias, which all happened to me- this is about finding your inner strength, this like all self-improvement is about being able to fall in love</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> with yourself. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My own breathwork experience with only a one-day session, started basically with me not knowing what to expect, but trusting Sandy (my friend who introduced me to Breathworks) and the workshop facilitators and my sitter ( person looking after me) and allowing myself to let go control and go where the music takes me…</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think the key is in the breathing...we don’t usually breath so well and deep, allowing oxygen to go through our bodies so thoroughly...to our brains etc ...the music supports that because we all naturally respond to these various drums, etc and are capable of soaring through music. The music is sourced from ancient cultures around the world, bringing together atavistic wisdom and healing. This combination is magical</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There were a number of things that changed in my life that day</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I always had a fear of drowning but after the deep breathing my particular vision was of Swimming with whales and dolphins and I lost that fear of asphyxiation. in fact I stayed a long time without breathing at certain points and those moments were almost ecstatic! I had naturally the fear of mundane pain and suffering but this experience told me that I was strong enough to conquer anything physical and go something of an out-of-body experience. Yes, there were dark scary troughs into which I fell but I gained confidence that I could climb out of them when I wanted. There was a feeling of freedom, strength, love and of all my mundane worries falling away. This strength has lasted me to this day and I believe it will last much further. but im looking forward to a kind of re-charging of my breathwork energy in March when the next workshop comes to Colombo.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After the workshop, the 35 participants spoke of what visions they had seen. People of various faiths had religious experiences, similar to OBEs/NDEs. Except for one young woman all participants spoke of nature...mountains, valleys, trees, oceans, horses, jungles, birds, flower gardens..and comfort, healing and freedom. A feeling that the universe will look after you! I remember dolphins. I feel it just goes to show that humans miss nature, that’s why we are mentally and physically getting sick and stressed.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another strange side effect was that the blocked artist in me who had struggled for self-expression for 30 years, buying paints and canvasses but being unable to paint, suddenly and miraculously burst into creative expression. Id always been a kind of copy cat, drawing from photographs and other peoples paintings but suddenly here was I composing my own visual dreams on canvas. I have to say without a doubt that it was the strength and power within discovered through breathwork that led me to this amazing exuberance.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To be honest you probably won’t see every participant bursting into song or uncontrollable creativity or taking very bold steps like walking away from stagnant relationships...but I know that many of the participants found that day immensely relaxing, cathartic and strengthening. Finally a word of warning too: Holotropic Breathworks</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">TM</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is profound and powerful so sometimes it may cause temporary distress when you face your demons. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My own theory is that the more trauma you may have behind you the more effective it becomes. In my case...after Breathworks: I am soaring.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What is Holotropic Breathworks</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">TM</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Group Sessions are facilitated by certified practitioners who have completed the Grof Transpersonal Training program. With the aid of “evocative” music and occasional bodywork, participants are guided through breath exercises while lying down. This induces non-ordinary states of consciousness. Group sessions allow people to work in pairs and support each other’s processes. Sessions end with sharing and discussion so participants integrate what they have learned about themselves. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Next planned workshop dates: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">March 27, 28, 29 (2020) </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Venue:</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Community Education Centre,# 117, Talahena, Malabe</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fee: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rs.5000/ per day. Rs 15,000/for 3 days. Those who apply before 15th January will receive a discount of Rs 1000/ for each day. You can participate on 1 day, 2 days or 3 days.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Interested candidates should register before 31st January.Registration fee(advance): Rs 4000/</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who can benefit?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Breathworks can greatly benefit people suffering from: anxiety and depression, trauma, posttraumatic stress, and anger issues, grief and loss and the emotional effects of physical illness.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Holotropic Breathworks</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">TM</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> can be a universal healer. Breathworks is not particular to any religion but it can very well become a religious experience.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If there is one thing adventurous you want to do in 2020, I suggest you try this experience and I know you will not regret it. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Much love and stay blessed! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For more information about the workshop please contact:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ms Sandy de Alwis | Email: sdea_joy@yahoo.com | Tel: 0777683170</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sr.Janet Nethisinghe | Email: janetnfmm@gmail.com | Tel: 0714228358 /0772545870</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 10.5pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.holotropic.com/holotropic-breathwork/about-holotropic-breathwork/" style="text-decoration-line: none;">http://www.holotropic.com/holotropic-breathwork/about-holotropic-breathwork/</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpH8LTPgJDISDugHmBGgXniUdEvg-5gr_2QnmnpxleN5d8PUtoP4ESdPNOgNbGHeDCNmX0n0tKa8LV9rICKoV4z521foV10Xh-ZNPlnLCcbEWMYCT0aoYQPTcTCfP6JyAXL_iJw/s1600/Tikiri+Finds+the+Sun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="877" data-original-width="1280" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpH8LTPgJDISDugHmBGgXniUdEvg-5gr_2QnmnpxleN5d8PUtoP4ESdPNOgNbGHeDCNmX0n0tKa8LV9rICKoV4z521foV10Xh-ZNPlnLCcbEWMYCT0aoYQPTcTCfP6JyAXL_iJw/s640/Tikiri+Finds+the+Sun.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: rgb(29 , 33 , 41); font-family: "arial"; font-size: x-small; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Tikiri Finds the Sun - Chandrika Gadiewasam 2019</i></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-78198121186467076002019-03-31T22:47:00.001-07:002019-03-31T22:47:47.456-07:00The Snake Rescuer of Habarana<div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-97a62e2c-7fff-cc72-26bc-fde91d40c0a7"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-align:justify"><br></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">By Chandrika Gadiewasam</span></p><br><ul style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><li dir="ltr" style="list-style-type:disc;font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-style:italic;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre;margin-left:36pt"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">In Sri Lanka which boasts some of the highest snakebite deaths in the world, where snakes are hated and feared, one man daily puts his life on the line to save any snake he can. </span></p></li></ul><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">He has given mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to a deadly Indian cobra and he keeps a saline solution and aloe vera tub to help heal snakes who have been attacked using kerosene: a man of humble means, who makes a livelihood from maintenance work, Jeganadan the snake rescuer of Habarana has never in his life accepted payment for the thousands of serpents he has rescued and released, because, he says, 'then people may hesitate to contact me." </span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><span class="gmail-Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">"I started my rescue work in 2004, with the realisation that snakes are the animals probably treated with the most callous injustice in the world. You will see people and organisations rescuing dogs, birds, elephants, leopards -but there is no one who will stop and help a suffering snake." he points out. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Jeganadan has made it his life's passion to do so, at no small risk to himself. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">He has no access even to antivenom, which is not available in rural hospitals, and points out that a trip from Habarana to the nearest government hospital with snake venom, which is in Polonnaruwa would take 1.5 hours, which would be more time than it takes to kill a person if bitten by a viper.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> "The media is not very interested in saving snakes, there is nothing newsworthy in it for them,' he says adding that all the emergency calls he gets are through word of mouth and more recently social media which helps spread the word about his cause. " If an article or a post can save at least ONE snake from being killed then that is all that matters to me," </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><br></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"></span></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgBY7-WkjDVdigbpccv-YZu0vVQ-_x9oCzfWjMTT51Zh3ZbFQNEXjsia_5c7jerjXsoq8hY2_OJQ6pARJa1kOZPEOIBuBcU-zZ_RF9UEeLjBLE8Bdmusk6tCoq6IigLXqJ-GV6A/s1600/jegan+with+cobra-767493.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgBY7-WkjDVdigbpccv-YZu0vVQ-_x9oCzfWjMTT51Zh3ZbFQNEXjsia_5c7jerjXsoq8hY2_OJQ6pARJa1kOZPEOIBuBcU-zZ_RF9UEeLjBLE8Bdmusk6tCoq6IigLXqJ-GV6A/s320/jegan+with+cobra-767493.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6674798655172146658" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqFzQT54kgV_NKIecKAZRznrjuVr7_3H_W9HfLOUwn4lgY0vGAXk9r_9l_If7AlPrendQPwbGrdqNBGUP4BGlvmXcPH2zHPcvLE8_lFK881JV-0H7H7vRplJkPaahKYI7m_CFvA/s1600/55887873_1129026767277491_4714069332865318912_n-768862.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqFzQT54kgV_NKIecKAZRznrjuVr7_3H_W9HfLOUwn4lgY0vGAXk9r_9l_If7AlPrendQPwbGrdqNBGUP4BGlvmXcPH2zHPcvLE8_lFK881JV-0H7H7vRplJkPaahKYI7m_CFvA/s320/55887873_1129026767277491_4714069332865318912_n-768862.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6674798666222859314" /></a></div><div>Photos from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jeganadan.habarana">https://www.facebook.com/jeganadan.habarana</a> </div><div></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">"My first advice to anyone if there is a snake discovered is not to poke or disturb it at all and never to throw kerosene etc, but to quietly watch it to make sure you know where it goes" After a call, acting as soon as he possibly can, Jeganadan bikes over to the house and begins the long and arduous task of hunting the snake out, ensuring not to harm it in the process. This often means reaching into dangerous corners, climbing into roofs, operating in confined spaces and a great deal of patient searching until he locates and catches the slippery subjects. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">On an average, he rescues around a dozen snakes a month, a few venomous but mostly non-venomous. Usually, the innocent non-venomous ones would also have been killed cruelly and needlessly if not for his quick intervention. Not only does he adamantly refuse any payment for this service, but all expenses are borne by him, on the principle that if he accepted payment some people may think twice about calling him. Often days of patient caring are needed to rehabilitate a snake which has been attacked with kerosene, by calming it, bathing it in saline, and then placing it in a tub of aloe vera gel; death from kerosene sprayed on any snake is long drawn out torment where the animals skin blisters and peels away leaving wounds which even show its skeleton, after which it gets infected and slowly rots to death over a number of days. More often than not it is entirely harmless non-venomous snakes that meet this fate,</span><span style="background-color:rgb(255,255,255)"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">not to mention valuable endangered species.</span></span><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"><span style="background-color:rgb(255,255,255)"> Ev</span>en if a snake is venomous, as they never intend to harm people but only stray among us because their habitat is destroyed or they are hunting rats, or desperate for water, they can easily be kept at bay with proper precautions for example like keeping some water at a distance from the house, and keeping your environment cleared according to Jeganadan, who advises that all snakes have an important part to play in the ecosystems by controlling rodent populations which would otherwise devastate an agricultural economy such as Sri Lanka, and they are also the source for medical preparations etc. Only a handful of the snake species in Sri Lanka are venomous but due to lack of awareness of people, snakes are brutally attacked on sight. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">On the subject of snake bite deaths and the lack of locally made antivenin, Jeganadan reserved comment except to say that after 30 plus years of trying to manufacture it, there has not been any real success from the authorities in charge. Many deaths would be preventable if the anti-venom were available, but it seems to be low in national priority as it is mostly poor villagers that would be affected. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Jeganadan goes out of his way to host regular awareness workshops for interested people, showing them the difference in non- venomous snakes so that at least knowledge will prevent the destruction of these innocent animals- but he has to carefully circumvent current laws which make it an offence to have such wildlife in one's possession. He laments over peoples attitudes, official lethargy and the ironic legal situation he personally faces when he tries to deliver this much-needed service to people; he needs to have live specimens to demonstrate to people that they are perfectly harmless, but at the same time it is an offence to have such fauna in his possession, so he has to release them very soon.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;text-align:justify"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">The attitudes of some people too have been most demoralising. Many ridicule him openly, some have even gone to the extent of trying to accuse him of profiting from the services he selflessly undertakes, which he points out is inaccurate because he insists that he will never accept payment for his time or expenses, as saving snakes is his life's passion. In spite of insult and criticism by such people for saving the snakes they believe should be exterminated, Jeganadan carries on undaunted, sure in the knowledge that he is doing the right thing, in saving people, snakes and Sri Lanka's environment alike.</span></p><br><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Snake-handler Jeganadan can be contacted through </span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">FB@ </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/jeganadan.habarana" style="text-decoration-line:none"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;text-decoration-line:underline;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">ttps://www.facebook.com/jeganadan.habarana</span></a><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> and on </span><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-weight:700;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">0779 865 543</span></p><br></span><br class="gmail-Apple-interchange-newline"></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21424034.post-16132193266836291142019-03-28T00:09:00.000-07:002019-03-28T00:10:06.591-07:00Taking the Bitter with the Sweet<div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt">Chandrika Gadiewasam</p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHi-53cLMT4L6h3AwqeZZLMivszC9UUCaeaEfFsdM4NE1IHv35Olek9itQSrkxLfoy81vDJeunLGbAg8MMhTuT9OSrFLFeRy9sozywBweNL0gEd6bGsPERWDCMe80hIlckzsHtHA/s1600/diarttt-706619.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHi-53cLMT4L6h3AwqeZZLMivszC9UUCaeaEfFsdM4NE1IHv35Olek9itQSrkxLfoy81vDJeunLGbAg8MMhTuT9OSrFLFeRy9sozywBweNL0gEd6bGsPERWDCMe80hIlckzsHtHA/s320/diarttt-706619.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6673335532407816050" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzgv4h7OVruxNA3GudZUmrXU9sy8fMno7dpstRQghlHhcLIvjoBhx5WGGd5xZBiin2A2d97pUXaZRJL51HDIYeR8J0ve9KyCG0YVSaPxdWCysJG3WWXVDpkcmNU2-gR-jcF8_xQ/s1600/dhal-709016.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzgv4h7OVruxNA3GudZUmrXU9sy8fMno7dpstRQghlHhcLIvjoBhx5WGGd5xZBiin2A2d97pUXaZRJL51HDIYeR8J0ve9KyCG0YVSaPxdWCysJG3WWXVDpkcmNU2-gR-jcF8_xQ/s320/dhal-709016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6673335542057012898" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNINDjTLTGiGkz4WPs2PqCokVuQJh__DhgezCfsBJEuB7WWY1YTnzf2LxorRZsjheHEqJC8poNmirhHENuNdGqUrY68ruJsoLTSFtd5zKvYalzZ_axPBeTcm9Qs_oXbPjhrl0sQ/s1600/talana+batu-711472.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNINDjTLTGiGkz4WPs2PqCokVuQJh__DhgezCfsBJEuB7WWY1YTnzf2LxorRZsjheHEqJC8poNmirhHENuNdGqUrY68ruJsoLTSFtd5zKvYalzZ_axPBeTcm9Qs_oXbPjhrl0sQ/s320/talana+batu-711472.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6673335548414490210" /></a><br></div><div>Some of the deprived sad food my whole family has been forced to eat due to my diabetes. Ok you know Im being snarky (Photos courtesy Nadeesha Paulis)</div><div><br></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">Some years ago, when I was hovering on the magical brink of becoming a symbolic 39, I went in for my annual overall check up and the reports came in with a positive diagnosis of diabetes.</span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">Well, yours truly, Chands, was in shock for a while and thought it was some kind of mistake! This was an OLD PEOPLES disease! It was one of those incurable inconvenient things that happened after you are sixty or something! This went along with Alzheimer's, dentures and incontinence, in my list of geriatric issues. This wasn't for me; I didn't deserve it, I didn't really do any of the things I imagined would make me into a diabetic. Ok I was rather lazy about the exercise thing although on and off I would try to keep in shape, not for health reasons at all but because I wanted to wear some dress…and I liked having a coke once in a way but actually, I couldn't even afford junk food, so why had this happened to me? I was by no means overweight, my BMI was acceptable, I didn't eat half the oil or ice cream that I saw my relations down day after day, (even the diabetic ones, once they had taken their daily insulin)- I was the careful one, probably because I was an older sister and a mother, and we actually get used to giving up the food to other family members, particularly the sweet treats. Have you noticed? Most of the moms I know take home any chocolates they get at work to give the kids, and I was no exception. </span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">So why me? First there was the hazy denial stage… Maybe this was a mistake and it could be reversed…maybe it would go away and just be a bad dream and not end up in me having to lose my left foot (something I have been paranoid about since signing up for a Life insurance package which gave you double bonus if you lost limbs on OPPOSITE SIDES …think about that carefully – to claim you need to lose a right hand AND a left foot… tricky, but I'm sure it can be organised if you remember to stick them both out at the last moment before the train hits! Looks like the insurance people think of everything !…pardon the deviation here) …maybe a completely starch free diet and running five miles a day would work – I didn't know Fanny Adams about diabetics and it looked like I would have to learn fast…here, I figured out, were some of the practical downsides: </span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>anything you previously spent on chocolates and sweets to pamper yourself, you now have to spend on medications and strips for the tester machine; those are quite expensive</span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>insurance companies automatically double the premium if they learn you are diabetic, and if they know you are OLD and diabetic they can even treble it </span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>you can't skip meals anymore since you go into a state of dizziness and nausea caused by having low blood sugar. So forget high-pressure jobs, unplanned journeys or in fact any real adventure</span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>Diabetes also can make people feel sad, angry, or lonely because most of your friends are not watching their blood sugar levels! in Sri Lanka you get a lot of unfeeling comments too, like " oh, you must have eaten lots of sugary stuff!" (as if you are the only one, and the person saying it completely abstains from any!) and " oh my, at this age! How terrible !" (as if your entire future just went)</span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">This is apart from the disease itself which involves gradual nerve degeneration and higher risks of cholesterol, heart disease and another boatload of more nasty sounding stuff, and of course, eventual amputation of feet.</span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">Yes, it can be at first glance quite a damper on life…until- in the spirit of Chands, you look for the possible positive bits! And here they are:</span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>You automatically get the exercise you need, because if you don't you get in actual trouble. So exercise is compulsory. And then little irritations in life, like 'having" to walk a further 200 yards because you miss a halt, become positive opportunities. Compulsory walking, you find is exhilarating, interesting, time for creative thinking and saves on fuel and transport costs! And you retain a moderately youthful figure for free!!! </span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>Watching your diet becomes compulsory so now there is no fighting with your self-control. You settle on a diet and you get used to it and its actually good for you! No nonsense with new year resolutions which you mess up in February! </span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>You begin to realise how good something gooey and sweet tastes because you can't have it often. So you have a new perspective about the good things in life! </span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">•<span style="white-space:pre"> </span>You won't ever have to worry about growing obscenely, decrepitly, disgustingly old and being a gibbering, geriatric burden on your children. Statistically, most diabetics are usually quite dead by 73 or something.</span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px">Ok, I have to end by saying none of this is expert medical advice of any kind, and Chands is just an average person with a common problem, now, more common than it ever was, sadly due to modern lifestyles. Why it happened and what will happen next I do not know, but I can leave you with some useful and honestly playful tips by the real experts which I found here: </span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt"><font face="Times New Roman, serif" color="#000000"><span style="font-size:16px"><a href="http://www.besthealthmag.ca/get-healthy/diabetes/19-tips-for-stable-steady-blood-sugar-levels">http://www.besthealthmag.ca/get-healthy/diabetes/19-tips-for-stable-steady-blood-sugar-levels</a></span></font></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color:rgb(11,83,148);text-align:justify;margin:0in 0in 0.0001pt;font-size:12pt;font-family:"Times New Roman",serif"><br></p></div></div></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0