Mr. Singleton

Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or Bends with the remover to remove.
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken.
It is the star to every wandering bark,
whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
~Shakespeare~

Last week I got to know that a friend of mine had called off his engagement, which was not shock by all his facebook updates I've been seeing. Prior to this news I met him at a funeral, and casually asked if he was ok to which he nodded his head. When a good friend of mine (lets call him D) confirmed the news the only thing that came to my mind was- thank God I'm single. As selfish and insensitive as it may sound, I couldn't think of having to deal with such a state, pick yourself up from it, and start over. That.... no doubt is a shitty deal!!

Don't get me wrong because I'm not against relationships, rather I'm for it, but with incidents such as these you tend to be wary of the pitfalls as well. Take me, the staunch 'relationship' supporter and counsellor of my mates, who encourages them to go for it. I've been there for MB during his difficult times, and made sure he got over the hurt and anger, not to mention the deception. Then I've lent my ear to many, listening to their issues and giving my honest opinion. Last week a friend (lets call him H) got into a relationship, and soon after it was sealed he told me the news. I was happy for him, as I'm always when any of my mates get hitched. Then he told me how this girl is everything he wanted and didn't want to lose her, that too, knowing he would have go abroad next year. I asked him if he thought she was worth all the effort and sacrifice to which he agreed. Then I said if that's the case, give it everything you've got since you've got nothing to lose.

By analysing my behaviour -a trait which I'm really good at- I've realised I ooze of optimism concerning my friends and their relationships, but not of mine. I give others motivational speeches while I'm easily pacified in my pursuits. It's not because I lack the courage or confidence, rather I factor in too many variables which impedes my goal. All that has never put me down in the dumps; I took it all good stead never whining, or cursing things I thought may have had a hand in my misfortunes. At times, the way I think even puzzles me- not kidding!! I seem to have created a whole new being, another behavioural pattern as a man who is risk averse to these issues. Applying the economic theory of 'high risk- high return' will not make things better. Or will it?!!?

Start of this year D and I met for a chat after ages because most of the time I had been abroad. D, being a Christian eats pork, but apart from it I swear to God he would be a better Muslim in comparison to some I know. We -D and I- are tuned to the same wavelength, so is MB though D and MB have never met. I've known D for a long time, him being a school mate, we have a lot in common; one of it, is the gentleman code. We devised it ourselves thinking to set a standard for our conduct in this mad and lawless relationship jungle. The calibre of it is so high that its assured we would never go astray. Some points in the code:

• Never take another's lady at whatever the cost because its not honourable.
  
• If the lady is already in a relationship, you shall not profess of your feelings to her; its not ethical (it means we'll not be doing a movie skit to get a girl).
• If the lady is single, meaning unattached.. go for it. (D extends it to ex'es of other guys who he knows, and I kinda agree. Who wants to be compared?)
• Treat ladies' with respect, but let them not take it for granted or exploit the courtesy.
  
• No adultery, or anything unlawful decreed by divine law.

Basically, we're overly high-strung on chivalry for the 21 Century. During that conversation D confided how awry the local scene has become, and wondered if relationships at all were worth it. I did agree to some of what he had to say from my own experience.... and towards the end he told me something very startling; he said "I know this may sound as a surprise, but I haven't discounted a life of being single. I know I'll be a bloody lonely bugger...but I think I can handle it." At that time I dismissed his remarks as nonsense, told him to get over it (it was the optimistic me). Now... even I think he has some point. I do admit that at times I'm drawn to women and think how a relationship will turn out to be... alas, it lasts only minutes.

As the saying goes 'good guys finish last', so far it seems to be true. Even a girl tagged me on a post she published on facebook by the same title. I have no doubt that it shows, and very clearly too. For the moment I'm satisfied by comments from ladies' like "you're sweet", or "such a sweetheart" which gives a psychological smile.

Confession

Yes folks, I've decided to come out of the closet and set the record straight. I know its not easy to muster your strength in order to relive ones past that still holds sway- and does so very strongly. It has been an essential part of my life both at home and abroad. I could survive without indulging in it for a few days, but a longer period is next to impossible. So... I've decided to say it.

I'm a hugga-holic: a person who cant fall sleep without hugging a pillow!! I wont fall asleep by hugging any pillow, rather I need my 'special' pillow specifically procured for that purpose. Now do you see the problem?



This sudden realisation hit me last night while on my bed trying to fall asleep. It was obvious that sleep would not embrace me in its arms with all the odd times I've been keeping lately. I also felt a sharp mismatch in my pillows- one under my head being too stiff, while other feeling too lumpy. I had not bothered to buy new pillows although, the idea did come to mind at certain intervals.

It all started as a toddler when my parents used to tuck a pillow under my arm (cant recall if it was right or left though), which continued throughout my childhood. I used to call it 'bantal peluk' and didn't sleep without, actually I don't think I could have either. It was a part of my growing up all these years. My attachment to it was so strong, believe it or not, I took it to Malaysia on my very first visit; alas, it didn't survive the entire overseas tenure.

Can you imagine a guy packing a pillow in a suitcase? Don't answer that question!!

While on my bed I thought if its a healthy thing to still have strong attachments to a pillow. After all, I'm an adult now and it may seem a bit weird. I even have issues as to the softness and texture of my 'huggy' pillow. Talk about weird!! Thank God I'm anonymous on the internet, or am I?!?

I could see some future problems looming in terms of a wife-pillow conflict. What if there's a tussle for supremacy and my future wife says "ok....its either me or the pillow?" Maybe she might say "hug me more or the pillow gets it!!" No doubt it would turn pretty intense, not to mention emotional for me.

But.... lets not worry about these trivial things because I plan to have wifey-pillow time table, which guarantees fairness at all times. I might be slightly biased towards the pillow then!!! :D

2 girls and Pizza Hut

Last Tuesday (August 10) I and MB (Mama's Boy) set out on a dinner date with 2 Malaysian ladies to pizza hut. I will call these ladies Mushy and Rai; the former being a uni friend and the latter being Mushy's work colleague. They are in Lanka for a workshop hosted by the Central Bank which has invited representatives from other central banks in the region. The previous weekend we took the girls on a small tour of Colombo, introduced them local cuisine, and of course shopping. We decided on pizza hut because Mushy wanted to treat us for the tour plus it was her b'day(I love when women take me out on treats!!) and Rai got a vibe for pizza.

So we got there and the waiter came to take our order. After that, Rai got into a conversation with one of the waiters.

Rai: Hi, its my friends' b'day today!!
Waiter: Really!! What's her name?
Rai: Why you asking, are you interested?!?
Waiter: Maybe...
Rai: Wow.... you have such a nice smile.

By this time the waiter windup like a top had no idea what was going on. I was seated on the couch enjoying the show hoping for more action. I'm sure no girl would have given a direct compliment to him before while working. He came back with our first pizza and started another chat with mushy.

Waiter: So...what's your name?
Mushy: Its Mushy...
Waiter: Are you Sri Lankan?
Mushy: No, I'm Malaysian.
Waiter: That's too bad... (it showed in his face too). Today's your b'day, and how old are you? I think you're 14.
Mushy: Actually... I'm 13!!

While half way through our meal some of the lights in one section of the floor went out, then another section- suddenly the entire pizza hut was in darkness. I have no clue if women can sense surprises, but both gave a squeal simultaneously seconds after lights went off. In the darkness I saw a procession and the one in front of it yelled "ITS MUSHY'S B'DAY!!!" Right after that all hell broke loose with the 2 girls choosing to scream instead of squeal (even I screamed since no could see anything at all!!). About 4 guys came near our table with an ice cream sundae and a burning candle.

Needless to say, I and MB found this episode very thrilling, not to mention rather biased. I mean, let's be honest because there's no way a guy would get the same treatment. Drat!! Near our table the group sang 'happy b'day' to which I rendered my vocals in full volume. When the b'day segment finished Mushy was really in a 'mushy' state and somewhat emotional. Until we left the place we proved to be the loudest, camera-flashlight-addicted, and mostly waited upon customers. Mushy didn't forget to take pics with the crew who did the b'day surprise, and left a good tip too.

Before walking out of that place we pulled on the if-you-had-a-good-time-please-ring bell which caused a slight stir. I think most people were happy that we left since the place became calmer than before. It was absolutely crazy and for a moment felt like I was in M'sia, like time had warped me back to a place I knew, a place I wanted to come back to.

There you are folks.... the story of how 2 women rocked Colombo's pizza hut and made the entire male crew go ga-ga!!!

Hollow Heart...

Ramadan is back and this time I'm at home after a lapse of 5 long years. Being at home in a way does feel good, but why do I miss the university life? When I was there, I longed to be home, and now that I'm here its hardly a reason to celebrate. Its safe to say that during the 5 years I changed a great deal both physically and mentally, the uni environment suckled me every day leaving a lasting impact. I was able to burn down certain impressions and barriers, broaden my horizons, soak up foreign exposure- for which I'll always be indebted.

The experience of Ramadan on foreign soil brings great memories, lasting ones you can't forget even if you wanted to. Mosque provides ifthar to anyone who comes, plus there are others who also do it privately. The best part in all of this is the mosque. I've never loved, or still continue love a mosque so much as this.

This love affair (if I could call it that) started when I first arrived as a fresher. My friends and I used to sleep in the mosque during late evenings after walking around the campus; we were explorers determined to discover new places in our uni. Sleeping in the mosque was a great thrill simply because its unheard of in Lanka, and you're not allowed either. One thing that made sleeping very pleasurable was the carpet covering the entire mosque floor, thickness of it was just right hence no pillow required, and also its surface texture very soothing to the skin. As time went by, I would frequent the mosque daily for prayers in congregation. Going there to pray kept my senses in check, helped me gather my thoughts, restrain myself from countless temptations- could I have asked for anything else?!?

And tarawih prayers -Allah bless those Imams- simply made my heart melt with their recitals. Each rakath used to take close to 7 or 8 min, but you know what, it hardly felt so taxing on the body. Being in that mosque, doing the prayers hardly felt like exerting effort. I doubt that I'll come across a Lankan mosque that would infuse me with such fervour. Neither will any local Imam recite the Quran with such beauty and melody. Standing next to someone you hardly know is common in prayer, that too if he's from another country, even a faraway continent. I've stood beside my brothers who came from all corners of the globe- and that I'm really proud of.

Food-wise, of course, I can't find half the things I used to. At the many canteens it was as if the world could be found on a single table. Choices were plenty and providers came from all parts of the globe- Arabs, Somali, Sudanese, European, Chinese, not to mention Malaysian and so much more.

I could go on, but words will surely fail me. Just one last thing before I end- I really miss you so so bad, now more than ever!! I long to see you again and pray in your shade. The day before leaving Malaysia (which was a Friday) after prayers I kissed one of the pillars, and whispered "goodbye, until I come again".

Until I come see you again....

Closure

While chatting online to a recent acquaintance (I'll call her Ms. H) about Ms. X, I realised that I hadn't buried that chapter forever. So, this is going to be the end as far as my blog is concerned. I think that is a befitting end as any. I told Ms. H a few details but there was more; chatting on facebook is not an ideal way to carry out a conversation, if you know what I mean.

Eve of November 13 last year, I was getting ready to leave M'sia not knowing when I'd return. Circumstance were such that I didn't know if I ever would. There were no unfinished business except this- telling Ms. X that she was the one I liked. Debates raged inside of me if I should profess my affection, or hold my tongue and just leave. I let this question rage in my mind while carrying on with my packing, making sure not to leave anything behind. At the same time still-images of the times gone by kept flashing in my mind, it was like a film without a director. By midnight all had been done, all that was left was to get into a car and go to airport.

Then I decided- I'm going to say it, and come what may!!! Therefore, I most carefully typed out a sms and sent it to Ms. X in the wee hours of November 14. It read:
"Dear Ms. X, seeing you on Thursday was a vision. I had a pleasant time secretly wishing it not to end. If only time could be paused!! I have much to say but time was my enemy like always. A part of me feels hollow, dark and full of regret. The caverns of my heart are full of words but lack the outlets to let them out. If only things were different eh?!? God bless you always for a happy life. Feeamanillah and take care :)"

After that sms I felt my heart ease from a great burden. I also figured that she would be asleep and by the time she saw it I would be in Lanka. To my surprise she replied: "Salam Loner, you're talking funny!! If this is the effect of leaving Malaysia, I'm glad my country's made that kind of impact :) You have a safe flight and take care!!"

After reading this I had a feeling that she was mocking me. I mean, is it not obvious from my first sms that she understands that I like her? For a woman who got a first-class in law this was simply unacceptable; she even took 26 min to reply!! Having said that, it wasn't like I was expecting anything of a reply either. In the end, she having replied I was hardly satisfied with it.

Thus, I sent another reply:
"You're awake at this time!! Talking funny is not the effect of Malaysia rather your impact on me. Its rather complicated to explain through sms'. But I'm sure you're an intellectual woman who can piece it all together, or then again you can just choose to ignore it. I don't wish to change a thing!! Get some sleep X tomorrows another day."

Thereafter, no more sms' and I just went on my way. I, on purpose referred to her as X (the name used in my blog, which she used to read) so it may be clear as day. In the end, I think she got it!! And its just that she was not going to accept that a guy had told her of his feelings. Her friends, whom gave me wise counsel were right and I cherish their honesty for not filling me with false hope. Indeed, they knew my intentions as honourable and so they stood by me til the end. So, to Ms. Angel, Ms. Psychic, Ms. Hot and Ms. Model I say- thank you.

I think this entry should end with that song I kept playing many times over during those days. Let that song too be a part of my past too.

Living with a Drama Queen

As instructed by the doctor yesterday, we again took my bro to the hospital, this time to the orthopedic clinic. First we had to be referred from the regular clinic and that hardly took long at all; the attendant who helped us yesterday came to the rescue (he was positive of a tip, obviously).

On the surface itself the hospital seems to be on a precipice of poor management and shoddy operational standards. Clusters of garbage visible on the bare land adjacent to the hospital which have not been removed. And that queue of patients -Oh My Heavenly God!!- is beyond prediction. If we had not jumped the queue (yes, you heard me) by giving life to that adage old saying 'desperate times call for desperate measures', consulting the doctor would have been out of the question. By 11am we made an appearance at the orthopedic clinic while numbers for patients will only be given by 1pm. Oh joy, how awesome is that?!?

I sat in line to get a number -just so you know blue numbers are for repeat patients while red's are for first timers- which I must say can become a heated affair. I don't mean to sound dramatic, but of the red's only 15 will be seen by the head doctor of the clinic. If you miss out, well... tough luck. I'm not joking. I got number 10 and played the waiting game.

While waiting, I observed people (observing I do all the time) who had come to another clinic. An argument broke out between a patient and an attendant, the reasons I know not; at that time I couldn't care less. Staff take you for granted, stingy to deliver proper service, often verbally insulted- in the end you leave cured. In private hospitals its the reciprocal, and when you get the bill then you start having palpitations. Funny world, no? It dawned on me as to why people rely on government hospitals- its because they have the best doctors for free. Very simple.

Hanging around a hospital is not the best way to spend a morning, and like I had any other choice. Bro was so insistent today to see the doctor, we thought better get it over with. If not his incessant whining would never cease, neither would he listen to advice mum tries to impart. In the end (after nearly 5 hours, mind you), it all turned out to be a muscular pain and nothing else. Even that diagnosis didn't satisfy my bro who vowed to prove him wrong.

And... that's all I'm sayin' :p

Chronic Sibling...

My brother can be a tough character, at times (all the time) being stubborn, not heeding advice, hot tempered, impatient- the list is endless. He owns traits that would send a person up the wall, that is if you knew him well enough. I feel he lacks skills required to survive in this mad jungle due to him not being proactive; mum still has to be at him daily for everything. But whenever you try to impart some advice or wisdom he always acts smart, not to mention undermining all that's said.

Today, he suddenly made up his mind to rush to the hospital. It was an earlier injury that resurfaced. How? Only God knows. All he could say was when he woke up the pain was already there!!! Mum wanted him to lie on the bed and take rest until it healed, but as usual 'smarty pants' didn't want any of it. He was adamant about going to hospital, and if we couldn't accompany him, he was ready to go alone. In such a situation we thought it best to take him, God forbid if something were to happen. The injury occurred when playing rugby which doctors later rectified; it deals with the spine and hip not curving as it should at the left leg. So....off we went to hospital.

Kalubowila teaching hospital is a place to patronise in emergencies and if one has no other option. We had both pre-requisites thus, it hardly made any difference. Sickness hovers above the moment you enter the place, while attendants have to be physically brought to where you are for help. At the OPD (Out Patients Dept) the doctor advised we go to accident service due to its efficiency -but there's a catch, a patient should be taken within 24 hrs of the accident- and made us lie stating the pain occurred yesterday (in reality it was Saturday). I thought it quite nice of the man- not all are like him.

Technically, there was no 'accident' so treatment also was not warranted. Only then do personal contacts come in handy, out came a senior doctors' name and all was well. Prescription written for a x-ray took more a hour to materialise, it so happens that of the 3 x-ray machines only 1 is working. It goes to show neglect of the health sector which I'm sure is rampant in other government hospitals too. No wonder dengue is on a freak rampage killing everyone in site.

There was a kid who had put his hand into a washing machine. Looking at him mum said "good thing we didn't have one when you were little"- both of us had a small laugh. A school boy who had lost 2 lower teeth after being hit by an iron pole in a brawl. Both parents were at his side looking sad and worried, isn't it always the case? Millions of Lankan's rely on the public health service and standards should definitely improve. And this question begs an answer as to when it will actually be realised?!?

In the end, we brought him home since it was only a minor issue. Thank God for that!!!

Just Like Old Times...

The last weekend was make of stuff that I had missed badly for about 5 years. What did I miss that much? A feeling of belonging.

It all began with a phone call to chase away my ever-present sleepy morning stupor last Friday. At present, my mornings are quite drawn out because I'm unemployed!! Yes, the story of my current life. Let's put that unfortunate predicament to another day. The guys who were organising the drama wanted help to man the venue: checking tickets, controlling the crowd, and most importantly creating an atmosphere conducive for the actors to act. Having acted before, you are aware of the dedication, discipline, commitment, and above all the 'heart' needed to bring life into a production. If that production be Shakespeare your task is even more challenging. Shakespeare although in English is another language; actors train (also strain) immensely to bring forth projection, articulation, to make viewers comprehend what its all about. It most certainly is not a cake walk!!

Without a second thought I agreed to help, if I didn't what's the use of being a former Royal dramatist? And the rest is history- Othello rocked Colombo to the magnitude no school had done before.

The best time for me came on Saturday after everyone had gathered on Mt.Lavinia beach to make merry. Bottles were on the table, guys were letting out puffs, the waves broke into a previously familiar rhythm, we were all under a hut lit by candles around one table. I was more than satisfied with coke on the rocks with an occasional puff- the puff being a 'social' thing, of course. After numerous 'shots' guys were blurting out stories of yore, and even presently unfolding scenarios. It was hearty laughs all round. As we went along with the flow, a guy commented on how diverse those seated around the table were. It hit people like lightening as all of us started to ponder; we comprised Royalists of 4 generations just sitting and having a bloody good laugh!!

Surprised?!? No shit..... so was I.

More I thought of it, the more intriguing it was. We transcend generations (age didn't even stand a chance), religions and races, who came together for a common purpose. We were people with varied interests, ideas, preferences, perceptions, tastes and the list will obviously go on; but looking around me it felt beautiful not to mention nostalgic and proud.

People are clueless as to why we act with passion towards our school. If explained.... some will understand, yet others never will. It is the camaraderie that makes us so.... a bond so strong and unbreakable that it lasts a lifetime. Years spent in College made us who we are, it moulded our characters, better yet.... boys were transformed into men!!