Roofies V: Balm

It's a clear night after eons.

Okay maybe not eons.

But it has been continual rain and rain and rain with a ginormous dollops of thunder and lightning.

Although, it's been very welcome though. The last few days of school, it was absolutely stifling. Every morning just as I stepped out of the confines of the nice, cool, A/C-ed car sweat would start soak through my uniform in a matter of minutes.

Speaking of school.. I can't believe I'm done with school. All those days of wishing it would be over, I actually am a trifle surprised that it has. I mean, it's a bittersweet thing you know.. I miss the people and the friends and wearing the uniform and the activities.. But then again I am excited to be starting on new things. Ah life!

 Here, is a picture of crab claws in the garden that I snapped. Just added it because I thought it might brighten the page up a bit :).

Talking about crabs, I just remember that I haven't some crab curry in ages! Oh damn, I love hot crab curry with some hot basmathi on a kesel kolë. I must tell ammi to make some.

Today I am with some mango chutney. Heehee XD. Well, it's more of a sweet mango pickle which I made myself, but whatever, it's still yummy. I made it quite by accident actually. After avurudu our mango tree was nice enough to bear mangoes and I was messing around with the kitchen and voila! Yummy orgasmic pickle.

Okay I am so hungry.

I mean it! I watched the Travel Channel earlier and it was showing Man v. Food and showed this steak with mashed potatoes dish and I have been craving mashed potatoes ever since! ARGH!!!! I was something.

Yeah yeah I know I'm eating mango pickle and all that tosh, but I really am hungry.

I would do ANYTHING, I mean ANYTHING to eat some rice with crab curry right now. Or a Chicken McSpicy with large fries and large coke. Or some mashed potatoes with a piece of friend chicken. or a steaming plate of kottu. Something. ANYTHING.

Oh fuck.

I'm even hungrier now.

I have a theory. Friends, specially best friend, should not work together, i.e pertaining to projects, careers etc. Seriously, because you take the risk of destroying your friendship. One gets caught up in their own thing and then you tend to show your mean, bossy, bitchy side to your friend and then things start becoming ugly. Believe me, I have lot's of proof for this hypothesis, which made it a theory and I shall soon make it a law. Good friends should never been thrown together for competitive work unless you want the friendship trashed.

Ugh. Never mind.

Things have been hectic and I am tired, so I might be heading off to sleep in a little. But as usual, this little escapade to the roof top did me good, it's like balm for my soul.

I have a question thought... is it silly to be superstitious?

Who are you to wave your finger, 

ya must've been out your head

- Tool

Vesak and Color

There is always something so beautiful about Vesak. It's so colorful and there is always so many things to see but nothing beats the dansal along the roads. I mean, come one, in what other day of the year to do you street vendors giving out free food?

It is also the whole Vesak koodu experience. It's family bonding time to be decorating the lanterns. Although, it has not been so much of a total family affair the past three years because of my sister being away at university. But anyway, here are some of the pictures of our lanterns made to in honor and reverence of Lord Buddha; his birth enlightenment and nirvana.

Colombo, bitch!

Somewhere a person is on Facebook
Liking all the Wall Posts he sees

Somewhere a teacher is business minded
Robbing off money as ''fees''

Somewhere a loan shark fishing about
Looking for next sucker who bites

Somewhere one boy is a cissy
While all the other does is fight

Somewhere a drunk is singing
Baila and songs from Shree FM

Somewhere people are gardening
Araliya mal and gotukola stems

Somewhere a woman is in labor
And the doctor is at home asleep

Somewhere in Hikka they're diving
In the coral waters deep

Somewhere a woman gets red notice
For not paying the 'light'' bill

Somewhere in the Angoda hospital
A man refuses to take his pill

Somewhere a kid is sneaking
His way out of a day of school

Somewhere a man is staring
At the clock on the wall like a fool

Somewhere a thug is abusing
Some poor old, innocent soul

Somewhere is Town Hall there's traffic
And busted telephone poles

Somewhere in Mount it's raining
And people in Buba are wet

Somewhere people are buying condoms
To make memories they will regret

Somewhere a car is in a pothole
And some junkie is doing weed

Somewhere a mother is screaming
About a missing glass bead
Somewhere an MP is beating
Up some poor, old man

Somewhere everyone is cheating
Be it at work, at school or an exam

Somewhere in Pettah there is a sarong
That has been expertly stiched

Somewhere people are smiling
And saying ''I'm in Colombo bitch!"'

A Fall of Frangipani: Sexploits.

The phone buzzed it's usual song. Eighteen year old Jehan Dias was in his room. It was a rainy Saturday. A slow day. The bed was unusually cold and he was comfortable. His looked at his phone screen and it read "Araliya". Suddenly, all laziness slipped out of him and he smiled.

"Hello?" he said

"Jehan? How're you hmmmm?" purred the voice of Araliya de Silva on the phone. Just her voice thrilled him.

'I'm good.. just a little slow and cold" he replied.

"Oooooh can I warm things up a bit for you? No one's home.. Rohan's on leave and Dylan is in Havelock Town doing some work..." she trilled seductively.

"I'll be there in ten!" he replied as he grabbed his clothes.

"Come soon" she laughed, hanging up.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If he was turned on when she called him, it was nothing compared to the way he felt when she answered the door. There she stood, her thick black hair falling over her shoulder, her body curvy and voluptuous, just waiting to be touched and kissed.

'"No one's home. Ammi's at Loku Punchi's place and Dadda's at some official lunch and Rohan is sick so he went home yesterday" she said, welcoming him in and closing the door shut, her bright eyes twinkling.

'Where's Dylan?" Jehan asked. Araliya ran a hand through her hair.

"Doing some work in Havelock Town" she replied and stepped up to him, kissing him.

Oh my fucking God! he thought. Look at her. Fuck, I scored .

She was in the tiniest shorts and tighest tank top imaginable.

Araliya de Silva was the Goddess. The Sex Goddess. Everything about her, from her agile, feline qualities to her lush body was unimaginably wonderful. Albeit, Jehan hardly got to admire her properly when they snuck around like this because she would be all over him in a second and the rest would be history. Needless to say, if Araliya's parents found out that he was screwing their seveteen year old darling, the sex won't be the only thing that would be history.

"What if someone comes?" he asked her anxiously while she unbottoned his t-shirts, her soft lips moving on his own. She paused and giggled.

"But someone WILL be coming very soon. You" she said sexily and bit his neck.

Gahhhhh oh fuck he thought. He cleared his throat.

"No I mean what if-"but his sentence was cut off as she took her top off to show him that she was not wearing a bra.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dylan Wickremesinghe was at a saivar kade down Galle Road after a long morning of work. His bag was slumped on the chair and he felt a sense of calm despite the chatter in the kade and the noise in the street.

The terra cotta tiles on the floor were bright and shiny and reflected his face blurrily. The walls of the kade were painted in eyesore pink was had a small shrine mounted on it. The shop itself wafted mouth-watering smells.The chairs and tables were painted a bright, gaudy sky blue and were chipped and graffitied within an inch of their lives. Despite the wear and rear, they tables were scrubbed down and clean.

Whoever did the interior decor to this place deserves an award Dylan thought.

There were flies everywhere and it annoyed him. He brushed the flies away but they came back obstinately. There was a man cracking eggs to a bowl. He was tall, dark and had an impressive black moustache. Dylan rubbed his own face depressedly. There were pieces of tomato and leek sticking to the man's baniyan from mixing kottu on the stove.

Raj, the owner of the store greeted Dylan, his Sinhala "Ah Mahattaya" enriched with a strong Tamil accent. Raj put down Dylan's usual faluda in front of him. It was hot pink, had plenty of jelly cubes and kasa-kasa and a big dollop of Elephant House Vanilla Dream, just the way Dylan liked it. Dylan immediately slurped the drink and the honking, screeching and bustling road soon muted in his head.

While he was drinking his faluda, he tried calling Araliya and he was surprised when her phone went to voice mail. Slowly stirring his drink with his straw, he waited a few minutes and called again, all to no avail.

After finishing his drink, Dylank stared at his phone screen for a little. He typed a message and hit send.
I'll drop into Liya's place he thought and smiled.

Miles away, Araliya de Silva was moaning "Jehan! Oh Jehan harder!" in the throes of extreme sexual ecstasy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The door bell rang.

"Crap" said a very breathless, very naked Araliya. She was lying on top of Jehan, breathing hard after a particularly excellent hour of very very naughty procreating.

"Liyaaaaa" groaned Jehan in content, stroking her back.

"Someone's at the door Jehan!" she said, reaching for her phone to check the time. Immediately, she panicked, seeing the missed calls and message from Dylan.
"Crap! Crap! It's Dylan! Jehan you aren't supposed to be here!" she exclaimed.

"Damn" was all Jehan could manage. Even in her panicked state, the naked Araliya de Silva was extremely seductive. Araliya ran a worried hand through her hair.

"Okay... okay... you.. You hide! I'll fake sick and get him to go home okay?" she said, climbing off of him and putting on her panties. She flung his shirt at him.

"Okay okay" he replied.

Breathlessly, Araliya answered the door.

"Hallo darling" said Dylan, stepping into the house.

"Hey... sorry I couldn't answer the phone" she mumbled as he reached for her.

"Forget that... you look great..Mmmmmmm.. so yummy.. Is Rohan around?"

"No, he's sick" she replied. Dylan was softly cupping her butt in his hands and grinning at her.

"Good" he replied, kissing her.

"Dylan-" she broke off.

"Shhh shh, we don't get chances like these often.. and it's been weeks since I heard you moan my name Liya" he grinned, kissing her again.

"I know-" she started again but he cut her off.

'We're going to make full use of it".

Barely making it to the sofa, Dylan was all over his gorgeous girlfriend. He was kissing her neck and moving lower and lower until his hand was inside her tank top and then he realised that there was no bra to pop.

"Mmmmmmmm you're a bad girl Liya" he said in approval.

Just then a car honked.

"Dylan! Dadda has come home! You're not supposed to be here" she screeched.

"Oh fuck" he swore in annoyance.

"You have to hide! Go to my room. You have to hide til he goes to sleep or watches TV or something and I'll sneak you out of the balcony"

"Fine fine" conceded Dylan grudgingly.

While Araliya hastened to open the door, Dylan scrambled to her bedroom. He debated on whether to hide in the curtains and then settled on hiding under the bed. He raised the bedsheet one side and slid under the bed and held his breath. It was a second before he realised he was not alone. Dylan looked at the person next to him and found himself face-to-face with his good friend Jehan Dias.

"Er..hi" Jehan said.

Araliya's father stepped into the house with a very confused expression.

"Why are there two cars parked outside our gate Araliya?" he asked.

Oh fuck she thought with a groan.

Meanwhile, two boys stared at each other in disbelief. Dylan recovered first and spoke.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

 Authors Note: I hope to turn to this short story into a miniseries. Any comments pertaining to if should or should not, would be welcome.

When it rains, it pours.

People say "When it rains, it pours" in negative reflection towards life. Like most people, I did the same until recently during one of the past gloomy days, I experienced a moment which caused me to look at the expression in an angle that I never thought possible.


So there it was. The first exam of my A Level exams. Chemistry 6. Friday the 14th of May. Thursday I had come home from class and I planned to get some good eight hours of sleep before my impending exams.

Let's just that THAT plan shot down faster that a meteorite hurtling towards the Earth at blinding speeds. The nerve wracking onset of exams brought on the reminder that I was totally unprepared for the exam. After 3 hours of attempting to cram in chemical tests for Sulfite and memorizing diagrams of reflux condensers and round bottomed flasks, I gave up.

Upon switching on the tv, I flipped through the cable channels until I discovered that Fox Crime was airing Numbers 2. Needless to stay, stop drop and roll automatically played it self. I stopped at the channel, dropped what I was doing and rolled on the bed and to make myself comfortable. It's a thing with me you know.. this whole forensic-slash-crime programmes. I'm a right real sucker for them.

And so the night went on. Oh, it was raining in torrents, but that made me so much more in to it as I watched episode upon episode of Dexter, Castle, Bones, CSI: NY, CSI, CSI: Miami, Numbers, Underbelly, Brotherhood, MacGuyver and Family Guy. And I kept telling myself, "Okay, one more episode and study again".

Yeah right.

Next thing I know, it's 7.23 am and I am falling asleep.

I woke up to my father screeching and remembered that I had an exam. I barely made it to the car at 10.30 for the exam that was starting at 11.30 at BMICH.

The entire section of the road towards Kanatta, Devi Balika and Colombo 7 was flooded thanks to the fantastic drainage system of our country. By the time we made it out of traffic, it was 11.33 am and neither my father nor I were talking to each other.

That's when the Fates decided that I needed a jog.

Yes, a jog.

So I had to run all the way from the BMICH main gate to this dinky hall tucked ALL the way in the opposite side of the BMICH grounds, splattered in mud, drenched in rain, all in the name of the Chemistry paper. I was feeling very kindly towards Fates at that moment.

I barely made it to the hall and thankfully the exam was starting at 12.00 due to transport issues because of the bad weather.

So after freezing for nearly two hours in a hall and writing nothing but lies in the paper [my parents will be SO proud], I exited the hall, thinking "Thank God".
I expected my father to be in the car park. And he tells me he just got home when I called him. I snapped. I screamed at my father, screamed a little less louder at my mother who seemed to empathize with me for some incane reason and I decided that I might as well walk to the main gate so that I can be there when the car arrives.

So I started walking. It was slightly chilly, the wind was cool, but frankly it was a pleasant day, so muhc better from all the heat we witnessed weeks back. It was also drizzling very light. So light that it was almost a fog. It really wasn't a bad day.

And that's when it started to rain.

Oh no, not the little splatter we call rain drops.

Buckets, no, tanks full of water just poured down from the sky. Where was I? Right SMACK in the middle of the cement roadway with no shelter nor umbrella. I tried sheltering under a tree, which helped a lot, really.

Not.

This is about when I lost it. I completely lost it. I remembered that when I was a kid, I used to love being in the rain even though my mother would whisk me inside before I even got my slippers wet. So here was my chance after years. No one was watching. "Take it take it" said a voice in my head. Maybe it was a sign of sleep deprivation, but take it I did. I stepped out to the rain and held out my hands and let it soothe me.
The next thing I know, a really really tall guy with black rimmed glasses in standing next to me doing the same thing. He was a million feet tall and skinny as a stick. Quite a scene it would have been, the short chubby girl and the tall skinny guy, standing in the rain.

And then I started singing "Sweet Home Alabama". Out loud. Yes. The guy stared at me, smiled and he too started singing. Of course, it was nothing compared to Lynrd Skynrd but we did do a decent, pro-karaoke job, screaming "Lord I'm coming home to youuuuuuuu!". It was a true Bollywood moment. I was soaked to the skin, so was he, rain was dripping off our hair and noses, but it was the best thing I have done in a long time. I did not care that a man passing by stared. I was happy. I was trully ecstatic.

When I got home, my clothes were still wet but my hair was dry and the rain water had somehow made my hair into the curly ringlets that my boyfriend always plays with. They were perfect. When I checked my phone, there was a message from the man himself saying "I love you soft girl".
Changing into dry, warm clothes, I stood near one of the French windows in the hall and watched the rain come down. The trees were strung out, the dogs were curled up into balls, the father was couting mangoes to see how many I've eaten without prior permission.


It was a beautiful day.

When it rains... it pours. I am glad it did.

Honey Eyes

Shades of honey in your eyes
Speak to me so clear
The glint of gold in beer
So many shades and dyes.

The golden glint of the morn
And sparkling rays of the sun
The baked-glazed of a bun
The glisten of ripe, rich corn.

The scattered leaves of a windy Fall
The hues of Maple gold green
So many shades I've seen
As you stand by so tall.

Brown of an aged old tree
Sings to me when you kiss
The abandonment in bliss
As you slowly set me free.

The warmth of chocolate cream
As we dance in the rain
Colors to make me insane
Beautiful colors from my dream.

Well polished surface of wood
Has no match in shine
When you look into mine
Eyes and magic me good.

Honey, toffee golden warm
While I say your name loud
Our bodies and hearts oh shroud
The calm epicenter of the storm.

They think of me, speak of me
Changing shade and luster
Like diamond stars cluster
Forming melodies beautifully

The sun will set and the sun will rise
And one step behind
It is you I shall find
Talking to me with your honey eyes.

All Mirrors Lie

 O Mirror in to which I dost stare
This face is not mine!
What a glow, what a shine
Of a beautiful maiden fair

O Mirror show me for what I am
Portray me for me
Don't show a leaf for a tree!
Don't show and oyster for a clam!

O Mirror why dost thou do this?
Does my face berate thee?
Why dost thou hate me?
Dost my face hinder your illusion of bliss?

Oh Mirror, deceitful perception say
Why dost thou not show my heart
My soul and being, why apart?
What dost I have to pay?

O Mirror so cunning, tell me
Dost thou know the pain
From these visions insane
Why cannot I truthfully see?

O Mirror deceptive thou dost claim
What you show is true
Mirror, I dost rue
Uttereth such sweet words, shame!

O Mirror, my fickle friend be gone
I dost not want you now
Showeth long hair, fair brown
Leave me be alone and torn.

O Mirror I would rather see me
Through the eyes of a man
Who loves me for what I am
Least then Mirror, I'll see me truthfully.

O Mirror thy gilt frame bright
Shows all false all fake
Why dost thou make
Ridicule of my plight?

O Mirror deceptive beautiful liar
I hope thy reflection shatters
For thou, Mirror, thou dost not mater
May you be with a fate so dire!

O Mirror that hung, shatter break die!
Be gone! Be gone forever more
I shalt not trust what thou shalt show
For all Mirrors, like thou, they lie.

The Universe

This universe, this unending expanse vast

The memories, the future, the present and past

The colours of the rainbow spectrum hail

The virgin, the bride, the hood, the veil

Shakespeare, Eliot, Kurt Cobain

The bits of snow and those drops of rain

The beauty, the beast and intermediate

Hollowed hallows unseen just yet

Peacock feathers, a crows messy nest

Flowing hair and full curvy breast

The lover, the fool, the maiden and tool

The douchebag, the wise, the one who is cruel

A gully, a valley and a gorge, a creek

Love to make the lovers knees go weak

Fallen leaves and plenty of weed

Shattered crystal and a broken bead

A smiling child, a frowning teen

A leather jacket, a red jelly bean

Coins in the pocket falling through a hole

Making money by dancing on a pole

Business meeting, university days

Dogs playing a small game of chase

Waves lapping at a sandy shore

A mother, a teen and yet a whore

The midnight skies with diamond shine

McDonalds is the place to dine

In full focus but out of range

This universe I know is so very strange

Photography ;)

I took up a new thing.

Photography.

Although now I am wondering.... where do I go from here?

But anyway. Here goes:


Araliya flower, fallen and beautiful.

Bamboo in all it's glory.
 












Kandyan Dancer :)
 













The basis of many Sri Lankan pickles.

The Fat Story

I am one of those girls you know.

The one who sits alone.

The one guys hardly ever talk to.

The one who never gets asked to dance at a party.

The one who's the topic of so many jokes.

The girl who gets bullied.

The girl who smiles at the rude remarks the people make.

Why?

Because I am fat.

No, I am not ashamed to admit it. I am seven kilograms overweight.

I have never once worn a bikini in my whole life.

Never gotten in to a beautiful body hugging red dress.

I have a tummy.

I have fat arms.

And bigger thighs.

I am the constant target of so many jokes.

People never look twice at me.

Hardly smile at me.

I have a few friends.

Who see me past my adipose tissue and puppy-fat face.

I am truly glad that they are there.

I have a boyfriend. A truly amazing person.

He sees me for who I am. He loves me for that.

I have a sister and a cousin sister.

Two wonderful people who love me just the way I am.

And there are those other people. 

Those selected few.

Who see me for my passion of writing.

And my newfound talent of photography.

And my overall personality.

So maybe I am not gorgeous and drop dead hot.

Maybe I fall on my face all the time.

But I am NOT what this world wants me to be.

I am not a perfectly thin representation of what a girl should be.

I don't have collarbone cavities that collect water when I shower.

To some, I am The Fat Girl Who Sits in a Corner and Doesn't Talk.

To some I am Savindri The Girl Who Writes and Talks All The Time.

And to a very select few, I am Savindri, A Person I Love.

I prefer the latter from these.

It is so hard to fit in.

I have tried. Now, I have given up.

Because who needs to tell me how to live my life?

Who needs to tell me what and what not to do?

Do you think it's fair by anyone to judge someone based on their size?

We have no right to judge at all.

All we have the right to do is to like or dislike a person. We are not allowed to judge.

I am fat. And I am fine about it.

Like they say, those who matter don't mind.

The world tells us who we are.

Until we rise up and tell the world.

So I think I'll let those who make fun of me keep at it.

After all, being tolerant with ignorant fools who air there opinions is a virtue.

It does affect me though.

There are times when I hate myself. Hate this body I have been given.

I cannot help it. I am a human and we all have vanity embedded in us, however small.

So maybe I'll forget what others say.

Tune them out.

And be happy with what I have.

But tell me... would you bully or tease another person because of their size?

In a few short years.. you might be six times the size I am now.

What will you do then?

Think and answer.