Waiting for that Beautiful Day to Dawn
Do you ever reminisce?
The endearing times we spent together
sitting on a bench in the park
amidst the towering trees
replete with yellowish jacaranda cascading down
Or how we drew figures on the sand
with the tips of our fingers
while wandering along the sea belt
You promised me
caressing my hands
that you would never let go of them
And, one day, you would clasp my arm
and walk with me to the farthest horizon
Thus we dreamt of the dawn of a beautiful day
Yet, it didn’t take that long for you
to fade from my sight
Along with those sketches on the sand
melting away in the harsh waves
that abruptly broke on the shore
And I have no idea,
how incorrigible my heart is
The harder I try to refrain from lingering
The more I find myself immersed
Despite the awareness of the bitter truth,
I keep praying again and again
waiting for that beautiful day to dawn
My Kitten, So Adorable and Vivacious
Whenever I step on the backyard
for my habitual evening walks in the garden
I can see his beady eyes popping swiftly
amidst the greenish leaves of a bush
Or his big brown tail
wagging quite hastily beneath the hedge
while getting his guts ready
with his usual stalking postures
to cling onto my leg
Then, he would rush to me
very fast, as if in a flash,
and would gently bite my toes
So, I can feel the teasing touch
of his milky white teeth
As I get my foot away,
he would abruptly lay down on the path
with his furred limbs pointing upwards
while sweeping the sands with his
restless tail, almost like a fan
But all his valour falls apart
at sudden unexpected encounters
with the neighbourhood dogs passing by
What a funny and laughable scene,
to see his furry tail blooming into
goose bumps like a fire cracker
Oh, I love him so much,
for all the lavish delight
that he bestows me with
My kitten, so adorable and vivacious.
The Lamentation of a Mother
“Amma, when I come the next time,
prepare me some Welithalapa.”
Saying thus you left for work
But all of a sudden like one of your
most remarkable surprises
You came home deposited in a reddish wooden box,
meritoriously adorned with white coloured flowers
I fanned your face with a handkerchief
just to chase the flies away
And caressed your forehead gently
putting some tufts of hair to the top of the head
You were our only son, the greatest treasure of ours
As you were so catching and handsome a young man
and an influential commander in the Army
We had dreamt of a grand wedding ceremony for you
of sublime calibre
with the accompaniment of music
Yet I heard the smoothing rhythm
of neither the violin nor the piano
except the deafening cacophony of brownish iron horses
that they called a respectable gun salute,
and the lachrymose craws of the participants
I can remember,
unlike the others I didn't weep or whimper
except at the moment the telephone glided from my hand
hearing the very news!
I curse it,
the horrible death messenger
Huge banners of milky white colour
fluttered in the air
On them in plain black letters
inscribed the cliché, “Anichchāwatha Sankhāra.”
Your coffin submerged slowly in to the grave
I exclaimed
clamouring and wriggling to loosen the clasp
that mitigated against my movement,
you could not be in that gloomy pit all alone
Yet the gathering was deaf
They say that now I am going mentally out
I am neither crazy nor violent
But definitely, so should be those war-mongers
Oh, forgive me, my putha, my golden gem,
for not having made Welithalapa for you.
Glossary
Amma – Mother
Anichchāwatha Sankhāra – A part of a Pali verse with the meaning, “everything is subject to decay having been created from perishable bases.”
Putha – Son
Welithalapa – A Sri Lankan sweetmeat made of rice, sugar, and coconut
A Thanksgiving for the Four-Legged Companion
Walking along the messy street
that led to the green
I would halt for a moment
and sit on the bench
that stood beside the canal
to peep at the eyes of the strangers
who passed by
to immerse myself in the nostalgic sentiments
to ponder over how cruel life had been
Only to be awaken by the rattle of the chain
gripped in my hand
My puppy with its warm canine whimpers
and soft howls
would alarm me
while wagging its tail restlessly
I would suddenly recover
from the figment of the wild imagination
that could well jeopardize the whole soul
As my puppy would tickle my toes
with its tiny tender tongue
That soothing feel, that very intimacy
would make me want to start walking again
to the green
Thank you puppy,
for not letting me cease to be!
Humans or Beasts
“Yesterday's clash claimed thirty lives of the terrorists,
The nation's acclaim to our valiant forces!”
The dashing lady appearing in the TV
uttered with her rosy lips in great rejoicing.
Besides the efflorescence of
high sounding crackers,
whom did they kill?
over whom did they win?
Terrorists
Nevertheless,
they all are humans,
having the same blood and flesh
What is it that separates terrorists from humans?
Once the opposites go down
the others organize a party
with the glamour of dancing
Not having even the least thought
that the others are not beasts
but humans they too are,
their own brothers,
though provoked
Can you burst into jollity
as your brothers remain flotsams in a blood sea?
What an astonishment?
Merry making in the
celebration of fratricide
The fashionable pleasures of our days!
