Tagged: Memories

Your love spread to every nook and corner of my heart

Then, our love grew in leaps and bounds

“Where do you keep this much of love?”

I asked you one day,

You just smiled

But that smile said a lot


I’m proud about you, me and our love

My heart is beating,

Only for you…

My smile is always,

Searching for you

So, I’m eagerly waiting for

The greatest and the happiest moment

Can you imagine?

The auspicious time, blessings

Greetings, smile and so on…

How wonderful!


Everything of mine is

Waiting for you…

One day our story will also be written as

“They lived happily ever after!”



The melody that we sang together

One lovely evening in the beautiful past

You and I

That sweet melody….


Everything has taken a change

I hear that same melody

Where she lulls her baby to slumber

With sadness I listen

To the strains of that beautiful song

Which I hear in the hazy distance

When the moon rises high

In a distant sky

The flowers still bloom on the way-side

Spreading sweet fragrance around

Thoughts of you entice me

When I was by you

The only happiness I recall

And is lost in a

A hundred thoughts


– Patricia Mangalika Yahampath

A tribute…

I was not born to adorn princesses

I was not born to adorn banquets of royalty,

I was not born to decorate royal households

I was not born to adorn lords and ladies


I was born to spread fragrance

Born to strew on the funeral march of a gallant soldier,

Who laid his precious life for the country,

His precious life today

To beautify our tomorrow,

I was born to decorate his last journey

And spread fragrance about

For him


-Patricia Mangalika Yahampath

Sri lanka

My heart is beating

For you….

My eyes are opening to

See you….

My tears are falling

For you….

My Smile is searching for

You always….

My darling….

Everything of mine is

Waiting for you….




Wreaths and white handkerchiefs in place,

Decked in black, fully made up,

They go visiting


The cemetery is not too far from their abode

Yet they choose to visit only once a year

So they walk towards the gravestone,

Almost mechanically,

So many generations, like cattle,

Simply following a tradition, abiding by the rules

Submissively revisiting


“He was a nice man, a family man”

“Ever so generous, patient, humble, a teetotaler”

Said another

On the verge of tears, just this once


But after fifteen minutes, like clock work

They head home

To prepare for supper

Life goes on


Revisiting him, only a formality!




Navindi Fernandopulle

Colombo 07

Sri Lanka



My country of exile

I still find

A promising proposition

I was quite young, then

Ready and eager

For hitherto unknown


Mesmerized by the spectacle

Of scantily dressed

Lively and seductive

African damsels


To the wild drum – beat

Worshiping god of Eros

Enticing me to yield

To dictates of craving

Devouring forbidden – fruits

At leisure


Now, I being quite old

Carrying a heavy load of

Much exalted wisdom

Such a visit

Only have

Nostalgic value

For I am now obliged to

Condemn such vices


With or without conscience

Nostalgic Reflections by Ranjan Amarasinghe


Ranjan Amarasinghe


Sri Lanka

Time takes me back

To my life in the Vanni,

That strange and remote land

In the age of ox carts

And oil-wick lamps

A guru in a primitive school

With a dark room to live in,

A rope-strung bed

To lay my head


Woodfires in the outhouse

Stinging my eyes,

A twig broom for sweeping,

Sloshing home water

In a pot at my hip

Too young to endure

Hardships of rural life

Life in the backwoods

Was to live a life


At slow pace

In step with folkways

Revisiting in memory

In hindsight I see

Adversity taught me humility

farmers in vanni, sri lanka

Farmers in Vanni district, Sri Lanka

Kamala Gunasekara


Sri Lanka


Named after Julius Caesar

Hero of the Romans,

Who killed him later


Now July comes anew

Nourished and refreshed

By our monsoon rain, bright sun

And Ocean breeze


July rises now in green and

Golden splendour,

Despite the thunderclouds

And brilliant blue of skies

That once were filled with

Smoke and fiery death


We learn to live in peace

Amid universal memories,

Tragedies and comedies

Of human kind



A painting of Romans stabbing Julius Caesar to death in the Theatre of Pompey

Golden July

They call it –

The Black July


I was hiding in a dark pit,

Shivering, shaking, sobbing –

Terror howling inside me


Young – only 16

Two hands took me out –

Soothing voice

Two warm arms embracing me


I was shoved into a car –

Taken to a mansion –

Fast, fast, fast


Behind the kitchen slab,

Hiding, shivering.

Big knock on door

“Are you hiding Tamils?

Sinhala Traitors!”

“Naa naa Kavuruth naa”

“No, no, no one here” –

Retrieved from behind the slab


A beautiful lady –

Brimming with love –

Holding me –

Calming my fears

Oh, Golden July…

Sri Lanka black july

Laughter and screams

Of young ‘uns

Seem to vibrate the air

As I gaze askance

Over a dilapidated gate

Now rusty with time

Murals of Donald Duck

And Mickey Mouse

On the wall

Sparsely visible now

How we raved over them

Dreams of Disneyland

Running riot

In our young mind

Frilly dresses

And pinafores

Ribbons and Alice bands

What a kaleidoscope

Of colors and shapes

As we gaily danced

To the tune of

Age old nursery rhymes

Riding again on the mat slide

Swoosh! On to ground

My mind jolts back

To the presence

Wishing ‘twas

Montessori Days