Youth - a faint memory
Faux - Science to Dysfunction
Mind over mind,
Take me to another place,
Satisfy desire,
Purge me of this pain,
Of being lost within your thoughts,
Your grace,
Save me this time to make it crystal,
Find me here,
Amidst the clouds,
Above the hate,
Under the watchful eye,
Of the divine,
One who knows,
One who sees,
One who feels,
You, me, and mystery,
Dancing in the dark,
I'm tripping on a slip of tongue,
You see mirrors, I saw art,
There's a science to dysfunction,
There's beauty in these moves,
I killed the caution in these acts,
But I've got so much more left to prove,
You, me, and what they call romance,
Climbing the walls.
-----
This is a poem written by my son. I shared this with a close friend and I was told that "your son is in love".
I hardly remember that feeling. That is a feeling I am not allowed to have. Sad? tough... I am not looking for sympathy. All I have is what I have chosen. Chosen in a sound state of mind (now I sound like a lawyer hawking a dying man).
Nevertheless, it warmed my heart. I trully liked it. I would have liked it even if I didn't know who wrote it. I feel that is the ultimate compliment. Rest is bull ****
Youth is a wonderful feeling. A faint one yet wonderful. I remember being in love. Everything looked bright then, I saw 'her' face through all of it.
I hope my son's life turns out to be better, at least in terms of love. I got it in my career, I surely hope he finds the right balance....
The right balance... a difficult one this is...
I feel it is the right balance between home and work. The perfect situation - you feel like getting up in the morning and going to work... and when the day's work is done, you feel like going home....
Me? Somewhere in between... Work... home.. too many dots...
Keep smiling, that is very important.
Ta!
Bored
I feel so bored lately. Need to take my camera and go out somewhere out there. There has been so much of activity in my life lately yet I am so so bored.
I guess it is partly because I haven't done anything interesting lately. Not been very happy with my work with the camera. All weekends ended up either waking up too late or without inspiration. Need to tap in to some creative juice!
Got my first cheque by selling photos. But sadly I have no interest to take pictures of things that sell. What I enjoy taking has no value. Time to paint more with my lens.
Now to find that pipeline of creative juice....
Why?
The brother of an NGO worker I met during my stint in Pakistan was brutally murdered last week. The first question that came to my mind was WHY?
WHY does it take a few seconds to end lives that strive to make a difference in our world?
WHY does are these unsung heroes are never heard of? Never spoke about? Only to remain a statistic.... One in ten....
WHY am I speechless in front of him? Why is that nothing I can say or do now makes a difference?
WHY?
Who can tell me why?
We dare not disturb the sea’s meditative posture
We dare not disturb the sea’s meditative posture
Ringside Review by Afreeha Jawad
Daily News – 19th January 2005
If you ever thought meditation to be the restricted preserve if not the treasured privilege of only humans, sadly, you’ve got your wires crossed. Turn to Chandogya Upanishad 6.1 and what lies there in will most surely not only surprise you but baffle you as well.
Here it goes:
“Meditation is verily greater than intelligence. The earth meditates as it were. The water meditates as it were. The sun meditates as it were. Therefore, those who attain greatness among men are they who have attained the benefit of meditation as it were.”
Significantly, the fact that water meditates should draw our attention, particularly against the recent tumultuous tsunami uproar.
All of nature shares the common bondage of meditation except man, ironically through fully facilitated biologically to do so.
Not only does he turn away from meditation but also denies the sea, earth and sun of its meditation by meddling with it – is regretfully astonishing. The backlash that follows is best described by man himself as unprecedented.
This then reminds me of the Islamic requirements of greeting the sea. Something which my Dad always insisted whenever he drove past Galle Face green.
As a child, I never saw the logic and depth of his insistence in carrying out the Prophet’s instructions. Time is shall we say, a great “evolver”.
I now realize, more over in post tsunami time how important it is to wish the sea all peace Assalaamualaikum.
That the sea underwent turbulence and peacelessness of a sort, never evidenced in severity before, at least in its recorded history shows how important it is for the sea to maintain it’s peace.
Human encroachment on the sea’s surface and beneath, the like of confronting its treasure – fish, oyster and coral, nuclear waste dumping, the damaged ozone followed by massive ice block movements into the sea, heavy artillery transport and other activities too numerous to mention – have deprived the sea of it’s meditative posture. It was this interference with the sea’s meditative state that propelled spiritualists into prophesying disaster.
While religious books predict the zenith in human “development” they also unfailingly refer to eventualities. The Bible refers to the eath-spliting a sunder and the ocean boiling over occurrences of which we ere witness to in the recent sea earthquake followed by the devouring wave – similarities of which understandably is world’s end or as revealed in Buddhist scripture – Kalpa Vinasa.
By denying the earth its adornment – the trees –floods and landslides have throughout these “developmental years” brought disaster and death to hundreds of thousands all over the world.
Truly, here too we see how man tore apart the earth’s meditative splendor
Such thoughts coming off the ancient Hindu Upanishads may sound very preachy and appear distasteful to highbrow learning – nevertheless pregnant with truth.
- Afreeha Jawad
Published in Daily News Sri Lanka on 19th January 2005.
To the Shining Star……
Just when I needed most, I saw a bright star
Shining, glowing, yet soothing,
The light reaching out,
Serenading everything in sight,
<>
I saw the trees sway in delight,
Their arms waving, reaching out,
The rest of the stars, shamed in comparison,
Apprehending they could never be par,
To something so innocent, so beautiful,
I closed my eyes, and let its charm in,
Felt its warmth, around me, serenading,
I reached out my hands, trying to touch, and feel
I know it is far, and I will never touch,
I will never know what it feels to be held,
By that beautiful star,
I felt innocence, and love,
Care and kindness,
I felt your heart, reaching out to us,
Those who are blind, who will never be,
As beautiful as you,
<>
I looked around me,
And I saw the emptiness,
I saw faces, twisted in hate,
Except for you there was nothing,
Someone wise said,
It is no harm to dream, as long as you have,
The wisdom to separate the achievables, from the unreachable,
I am wiser now, and I know,
I felt a smile on my lips,
And after a long time,
A smile I didn’t have to force,
Or pretend,
A natural smile, from within,
A smile of joy and rapture,
<>
Shine away beautiful star,
Show us that there is hope, beyond what we see,
Help us to be human,
Teach us your ways,
And smile………
Thank you shining star
Thank you for the smile, and your warmth,
I will always smile, when I see you, or feel you close,
Forever and a day,
Legend of a Lion
12.8.1991
I remembered my grandfather and thought of writing this epilogue. The story below is mainly my grandfather’s voice and what he told me in my childhood (therefore does not reflect my beliefs). After dinner he would relax on the arm chair on the verandah, keep me on his chest and tell me these stories. I would lie on his chest and watch the stars listening to him. My hands clutching his wiry and strong body. I have never felt safer in my whole life. Before I leave this earth, I must pen these memories down.
The Legend of a Lion….
Once upon a time, our people, Sinhalese, descending from Sinha (Lion) used to rule this land. There was peace, harmony and justice for all. The legend says that our race began with the mating of a Lion with a Princess ( How this happened, he could never explain despite me asking him. I used to tell him it is genetically impossible. He used to say “what do you know?” ).
Lion, the King of the jungle, ruled well. He is fearless, brave and powerful. The white man is like the wind. It destroys everything on its way. ( I used to tell him it is more like a hurricane because to me the wind is soothing as well. His reaction was to slap me on the head, kids were not supposed to have opinions). The Lion withstood the wind for a long time. Kandy, our capital then could not be conquered by Portuguese, Dutch or the English. The only way English captured our land was not by war, but by driving the people against the King. We had few foxes in Lion’s clothing among us and they betrayed their race. The invaders made us change our religion, our names and our way of life. Your great grandfathers were fighters and they did not obey. They chose to die as true warriors than live as slaves. Alas there were only a few with such courage…
But the blood that runs in your veins are from those brave people. It will emerge when your beliefs are threatened, and you must fight for your honor. I do not want to see you live a long life as a coward. You are the only male to carry our name and the legend forward. The future of our family depends on how you decide to live your life.
The land that surrounds us is for you to protect. Treat it well and it will live forever, for your children and all future generations. I have protected this well, I didn’t bow to the white man and you mustn’t as well. We did not lose our country to them because we were cowards. They could not capture our capital and the tooth of Buddha. For over 300 years, your forefathers protected Kandy. Remember the story of the little brave prince who told his elder brother when he was crying on his way to be beheaded ? He told his elder brother that he will show how to die as a man and placed his head on the stone to be beheaded. He was a mere boy. His blood runs in your veins. I would not expect any less from you. Remember that your family name was granted by the King to one of our forefathers for bravery.
White man will destroy this land. To him it has no value. He doesn’t have respect for fellow human kind. He only sees value in what he can take from it. One day he will pay and pay he will.
He drinks the milk of his cow, kills and eats its meat. I treat my cows as my children. They serve me well. The bulls toll in my land. I was there when they saw the first ray of sunlight. When they die, I bury them. Eating them is like eating my children. And the white man dares to call me uncivilized.
When I look at a tree, I see life, and shelter. White man looks at a tree and sees the timber. I had to cut a few trees to build this house. But for each tree that was felled, I planted ten more. I know you will need them, your children, and theirs.
This is your land, your home. You must stay here and protect it from all evil. Do not bow your head and accept defeat. We are the Lion people. Lion will not eat grass even when dying of hunger. A Lion roars when he is grasping for his last breath.
Did you know the story of Ravana? Indians say Ravana was a bad person. He kidnapped Sita, who was Rama’s wife from India. He brought her to Sri Lanka. But the Indians forget the reason behind that. Ravana’s sister was killed by Rama when he came to Sri Lanka. Ravana wanted justice. Although he kidnapped Sita, he did not lay a finger on her. He was an honorable man. When Rama invaded Sri Lanka and rescued Sita, he did not believe that Sita was not “spoilt” by Ravana. (At that time I didn’t understand what spoilt meant). Sita was devastated and jumped into a fire calling upon gods to prove her innocence. It was proven because she came out of the fire without a single burn. A sacrifice necessary for a man to believe a woman. Jealousy is one of the oldest virtues of a man.
The Indian legend says that Ravana was a demon with ten heads. To us he was our King. He had the strength of ten men and that is the depicted by the ten heads.
There are many others. I will tell you about them as well. It will take a long time since there are so many. I am an old man and I may not live that long.
I am happy that my forefathers managed to protect this land from the white man. Many died to achieve that. You are fortunate in that way. You have to protect this land and hand it over to your children. Teach them to be like the Lion. Tell them the stories that I told you. I can see the fire in your eyes. You have the blood of the ancestors in you. You are our hope, and you must continue the struggle. I don’t know what the future will bring. Our land is furtile and the while man will want more.
Never take more than you need from the land. The Lion hunts only to fill its stomach. He doesn’t kill unnecessarily. (I think I told him that actually it is the Lioness who hunts, Lion is a very lazy animal. I can’t remember his reactions. Perhaps that is why we have many female leaders. Another slap on my head… ouch it hurts!!! I decided to remain silent and listen. It is a lot less painful).
Do not till the land unnecessarily. People are greedy. Be happy with what you have. If you disrespect the land, it will destroy you. Land is more powerful than you. Your remains will go back to her. You are her son, This is your home, your destiny.
You must live an honorable life. Follow your religion, respect elders and wise men. I did not go to school like you. All I know is what I was told by my father and what I learned living in this land. White man has strange habits. I am not enticed by his luxuries. I am not scared of his guns. To me he is a coward because he doesn’t fight like a man. He fires his gun from faraway. Do not be like him. Sometimes you have to fight for the sake of honour and when called for, be prepared to die for it.
Now our country is back with us. But people have changed. White man has sown his seeds of evil in them. We do not have leaders like we did in the past. They are corrupt and greedy. You must fight to get our honour back. Our legend must go on. We should never give up. Study well and be a leader. Teach them how to live like men. Follow the teachings of Buddha. Sometimes you have to fight to achieve peace.
The spirits of our forefathers will protect you and guide you. But you must believe in them.
It is getting late now, and it is your bedtime. I want to watch the stars and enjoy this beautiful surroundings…..
End of act I.
I remember returning from school one day to find my father waiting for me. He did not throw me in the air or smile like he normally does. He asked permission from my mother to take me with him. It was a long drive and we did not talk at all. I knew something was wrong because I have never seen my father like that. He drove me to my grandfather’s house in the village. Just before getting down from the car, he told me “Your grandfather passed away last night”. No tears escaped my eyes. I remembered feeling sad but numb. I had lost a friend. No one would tell me those crazy stories anymore….
I still don’t know how old he was. I only know that he was very old. He died in the field that he loved. He knew each tree, each pebble in that land. He had worked on the paddy field and gone to the pond to wash up. I still remember that pond because it had beautiful Lotus flowers. His body was found in the evening, near the pond.
According to our custom, the body was cremated in the family cemetery. As his eldest son, my father lit the funeral pyre. This is done in the night and the body burns till morning. The sons guard it against evil spirits. Normally they take turns to guard. I still remember spending the whole night guarding the pyre with my father. Even though I was a boy, I was the only heir to the family, so it was important that I guard the pyre of my grandfather. Perhaps they expected his spirit to enter my body. I really don't know. But I had no fear to sit and watch the fire toy with his body. I had nothing to fear. I was among my people and my grandfather's spirit would never do me any harm. I felt him around me, his smell filled my lungs and his words echoed in my ears. In the touch of the wind I felt his hands toy with my hair the way he did many times.
Again we did not speak the whole night. We just sat on the ground and watched the fire. Except for the cracking of the embers, hoot of the night owl, the chattering of the crickets, there was no sound. We knew he had found peace. I think I caught a glimpse of a tear in my father’s eyes. Perhaps his grandfather told him the same stories, but he did not fulfil the dreams as well. It is not the right thing for a man to cry in those days, definitely not in front of their offspring. My aunts were wailing during the funeral, but my father and my uncles stood firm, with sad but numb looks in their faces.
In the morning, we collected the ashes and the bones and as per the custom placed them in a clay pot. The pot is buried in the family cemetery where all his forefathers were buried. He was buried next to his father. And one day my father will be buried next to him and my remains will follow his. I did not cry because I knew he was happy. He had joined the ancestors. I was given the honour of placing the pot in the grave. I placed the clay pot in his grave with no feeling. This is not good bye, he will remain with me for the rest of my life.
Even though I was just a kid, that night by the funeral pyre, watching the flames, I realised that I could never be what they wanted me to be. I knew that I could not fight like they did. I was afraid of the responsibility. I wanted to laugh, and make others laugh. I wanted to play and have fun. I wanted to be friendly with the white man and the rest of the world. I didn’t want to die for the sake of a piece of land or a long and difficult name. It has to end with me. The last of the legend.
At that time, I was the only male child to continue the name. Several years after his death, my youngest uncle’s wife gave birth to a male child. I have never seen him. I do not know if he will take the family forward, bring honour to them. I have a handicap, for he did not know my grandfather like I did. Apart from an old black and white photo, there is nothing for anyone else to know what my grandfather looked like.
I had many questions to ask him about his stories. But he never gave explanations. I wanted to know how a Lion came to Sri Lanka, since we do not have a single Lion in our jungles. I wanted to know how a Lion could mate with a human. I wanted to know how we try to emulate an animal that does not wander in our jungles. Who told them about the Lion? I wanted to know why this land is so precious. I wanted to know how to be a great man…..
But it was always the mode of one way communication. I was the kid, and I had to listen. But even at that age, I needed answers. Without the answers, the stories had no meaning. I would not believe them unless I had the answers.
Nonetheless, I sometimes see the Lion inside me, and among others. Perhaps all those stories took root deep inside. The Tamil rebels in Sri Lanka use the Tiger as their emblem. It is the fight between the Lion and the Tiger. The fight will destroy both and they know that. But they are not willing to accept defeat. They prefer to kill than give up their fight, it is a matter of honour, a virtue worth dying for, something I couldn’t comprehend. Couldn’t? Wouldn’t? too much in love with life itself? Lack of courage? I really don’t know. But I didn’t find in me to die for a piece of land, why should I? There are others who would…. (coward of the year award to me)
Alas, the end of the Lion and his paradise isle. The only Lion we have left today is the one holding the sword in the flag. Whenever I pay respect to the flag, watching the Lion flap away, I will always remember the only Lion I knew. My father and I have failed him and I have nothing left to tell my children.
There are times I wonder if he could see what I turned out to be. I had betrayed all his advise, I had made friends with the white man. But he never saw the kind of people I met. I met good human beings regardless of their colour or creed. All he ever saw outside our people were those who tried to take away his beliefs. Therefore his thinking is justified in many ways. I wish he could brush shoulders of my friends from different lands.
Perhaps he turns in his grave that the last seed of his tribe betrayed him. But that is not something I can help. I needed my own life, my own beliefs and my own portrayal of destiny. Not that I posses values or convictions he had. His was a way of life while mine is a way of survival. He refused change and I advocate it. To him change was unacceptable, to me it is inevitable. We were too apart yet so similar in many ways. I envy him, I would trade all I have for a day in his life. A life filled with achievements and happiness.
Two thousand five hundred years of civilisation has been destroyed now. I still remember the day when one of my aunts showed him a precious gem she had received as a gift. That evening he was feeling sad and the answer to my persistent questioning made him react "those gems are never meant to be dug out. They belong where they are, they make this country so precious. Soon they will start digging up this country until they destroy this land". His prophecies were true, without any education he could foresee the future. Today we have nothing left. Soon we will have no precious stones anymore. It is not that the kings never knew what kind of fortune we had beneath our feet. Look at the enginnering feats they achieved, in comparison to that, digging this earth was a piece of cake. But instead, they chose to build on the ground than to dig in to it and destroy it. They respected the land and its children. Never to flounder around. Today we have destroyed this land by greed for more and more and more…..
I used to ask him, "what will become of us ?" and he would look up on the sky and say "one day you will fight with your own kind, kill each other, and destroy everything". Today when I look back, I admire his wisdom.
I was proud to be the only one in my generation blessed to know him. None of my cousins dared to look him in the eye yet alone touch him. I was the only one that had a special place in his heart. I could run into his arms and toy with him while my cousins daren't touch him. He tried his best to teach me the value of life, this land and this country. I was the chosen one, yet I have no regrets. The blood that runs in my veins forces me to be free, in a different way to his generation, yet similar in essence. Both of us wanted to be free in different ways. His was by compliance to his ancestors; mine was by following my heart….
Who knows? One day I will be buried next to him or my father. And my soul will unite with my ancestors. Today the world is full of complications, and likes of my grandfather would never survive in this environment. The jungle has changed its face, yet it is still the survival of the fittest. The only difference being the amount belief.
I am no philosopher and neither was my grandfather. Today my life is filled with technical advancements that he would never have imagined. This computer would have baffled him yet he was much more free than I could ever be. He had a life. I am constrained by my environment.
I wish he was here to meet a few people I crossed my path with. I do not share my belief with many so if you are reading this with my consent, then you are a friend…
White man has many faces and I have seen them all. I traveled several oceans where as travelling to the big city was a shocking experience for him. Yet I do not have my feet on the ground as he did.
I could go on and on… but it is time to rest him in peace….
This is the story of a man I loved, admired and respected for what he was. A man who created so much of good things in life. A man who lived a honorable life, worked hard till his last day. A man who never borrowed anything, ever bowed his head to anyone, a man full of pride of his country. A man without an education yet spoke words of wisdom that seems to elude those ruling us now. Money has taken over everything, no one loves the country anymore.
May his soul rest in peace…
Gambler
I placed a bet on life,
And said “fifty guineas” on number 11,
The man smiled and spun the wheel,
My life spin around,
Along with the wheel,
And the twitter as it stopped,
On number 11,
The man still smiling,
Said, “would you like to move to the next table?”
And we moved along,
What do we play here for?
We play here for love,
I said “one hundred guineas on number 11”,
I feel lucky today,
The man smiled,
Said, I am sorry,
Minimum bet on this table is your soul,
I am on a winning streak,
So I bet my soul, my heart, my life,
On my lucky number 11,
On the table of love,
And the wheel kept spinning,
Spinning my soul, my heart, my life,
And everything I hold dear,
The man stood smiling,
Like a messenger from hell,
I stood close to the table,
My heart beating fast,
And the wheel stopped,
At number 1,
The man still smiling,
took away my soul, my heart, my life,
everything I hold dear,
I had given all I have got,
On a loosing game…..
End of Innocence
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
A man was born yesterday, lived today, died tomorrow,
All that's left is dust in the wind,
Earth and sky, he lived somewhere in between,
Lived moments, cried a lifetime,
Mistakes, achievements,
Laughter, tears,
Smiles, grins,
Smirks, quirks,
Destiny and fate,
The asshole,
That sinned, lied, cheated and cried,
But he will be forgiven,
For beneath it all, there was a heart,
That cried to be free,
To be loved, and held,
For whatever it’s is worth
Next birth, if there is ever one,
He will be different, what the world wanted him to be
As he was told, that he will be loved,
For what he is and who he is,
As long as he is perfect…..
Bankrupt....
Have you ever met anyone so emotionally bankrupt that they believe their own lies?
Their offices gleam in posh leather, and their desks full of important papers. Papers that controls lives, destinies and future of children. Their faces reflect their own anguish of what awaits them when their working day is over.
I often wandered what makes them tick? What makes them go on? It possibly cannot be money, because they revel in it. Is it their despite against their lives? Can it be the lonely bed? or the fact that the person that shares the bed is there for wrong reasons? I really don't know.
I don't know because until now I have never been emotionally poor.
What would you choose?
In teachings of Buddha which is what I learnt as a boy, the balanced life is key. He said those 2500 years ago and I feel they are still true.....
In fact all religions focus on this balanced life. A life which is emotioanlly balanced. Perhaps too simple for our complicated mind to comprehend? Perhaps too simple to be true?
