Night with its sight,
Of moody frightening darkness…
Your light made me delight,
With soft lovable smiles…
Life with its height,
Just like the darkness of night…
Vanished and brightened you,
With your twinkling little light…
– Pradeepani Kulasekara
28Oct
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
27Oct
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
But
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
23Oct
16Oct
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
13Oct
Undoubtedly,
Revisiting
My country of exile
I still find
A promising proposition
I was quite young, then
Ready and eager
For hitherto unknown
Adventure,
Mesmerized by the spectacle
Of scantily dressed
Lively and seductive
African damsels
Dancing,
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
Outright
With or without conscience
Ranjan Amarasinghe
Nugegoda
Sri Lanka
13Oct
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 district, Sri Lanka
Kamala Gunasekara
Nugegoda
Sri Lanka
12Oct
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
12Oct
They call it –
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…
12Oct
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
Again
