Closing Chapter

The phrase “closing shop” is more familiar but I felt that would indicate hope, of the shop reopening the next day and that was not entirely what I wanted to convey. Chapter seemed more like it. One would always reopen a chapter only as means of reference – at least that is what I do.

The influx of posts – yes three days in a row is an influx indeed with my average of two a month – is not a result of frustration or anger. Maybe slightly but not entirely. Sadness has also overtaken me. Sadness and realisation. My sister flew back to Dubai today, that didn’t really feel that great – still in the process of accepting. I’d be flying back soon to the land of masala and no spice. I have an extra paper to take now thanks to my nonchalant behaviour and external influences.

In the pudding – a word influenced by my last tweet – I also try to thrown in a little hope, a little strength to move on and close chapter.

I’ve written only one-hundred-seventy-now-two words. It’s too short a post I feel. But then again, it’s not as though I really want to write more. My little stream of consciousness ran out of steam post-lunch.

Next chapter: Do not stop for lunch while writing.

Importance of Being Pink

This post has derived from watching one too many flicks and listening to too many sappy songs. Those very movies that makes you go “Aww” and shed a tear at the end of it all, upon the female protagonist finally being united with her soul mate or the most good looking actor in the story. After which, you lie on your bed and contemplate of what you’ve seen and put yourself in her shoes. In terms of music it is those very songs that start to make more sense to after some boy has succeeded in making you his captive audience.

Being a girl I will blatantly admit that I like watching flicks. They make me happy and yes I do go “aww” –  silently – and shed tears, lots of them depending on my hormonal functioning at that moment *LoL*

I like them better when I can relate to it. In other words, when the movie actually depicts my social life or relationship(s). Oh, that is when the actual fun starts. You put yourself in the shoes of the heroine or female protagonist and imagine… let’s not go there.

Once the movie is over, you meet and greet girlfriends who have already watched it and recommend it to those who haven’t. Discuss it over coffee, dinner and skype; in the midst of all this, external storage devices are madly passed between one another during class, malls, slid under doors and through some random boy acting as a messenger. This is followed by downloading theme songs and sending it to one another and the flick gains popularity.

Once in a way when the content becomes very applicable to a real life situation, you try to get that boy of yours to have a look see in to it, and oh! fail miserably. Chances are that if you make them watch it with you, they would only fall asleep.

Boyfriends are important in the am-I-straight check-list. But girlfriends and room mates, flicks, chocolate, pink and a little bit of blonde-ness are more important.

D for David

I may have been a journalist for a little over six months, but if written content appeals to me, I call it good writing. Bias, opinionated and very unprofessional as it lacks the required objectivity in journalism but I honestly don’t care. I love myself and believe that my take on things that matter to me are accurate. The first paragraph is self-explanatory of the initial half of the previous sentence *chuckle*

I look forward Lasantha David’s writings not only because he is my friend; I look forward to it because I am able to see his passion for writing and the subject matter visibly whilst reading it. When it comes to being a friend, I am terribly proud of this boy and his book. I wanted to publish two books containing my poetry before I was twenty. I was fifteen when this thought occurred to me – naive, very new to poetry and to reality. I will be twenty-one and have closer upon to seventy poems that are hidden in my closet. But, when I look at Lasantha, “half an IT grad” *chuckle* I am proud of him for having written his first book. I feel like a Mother who is watching her child grow up and pass out of school and university with flying colours. Okay, maybe not all that. It’d be a little creepy if it were so, but the general idea has been established eh?

Another thing about this boy. He is my age, yes will be twenty-one sooner than I would, and Susan, he is mature. As a policy, not only don’t I date but I also refuse, (or maybe it happened unconsciously – which is a very big possibility) to be friends with boys my age. Yes, the clear use of word “boy” in this context was meant to serve its purpose. They are so immature that I can’t help blaming our respective biological functioning. However, since of recent I’ve known two of them, yes a big achievement on my part; and Lasantha is one of them. In fact, he is more mature than guys older than us and no, mention names I shan’t. He was the only soul who kept me sane after my scary treadmill accident. I needed someone to talk to, just blabber with at 7.30am on a Saturday, and this boy was good enough to do so. He didn’t freak out, didn’t insist on flying to India that instant, but he just yapped and played funny YouTube videos of jokers such as myself falling flat on exercise machines #bliss

This boy, often jinxed – as much as I hate to say that – is truly one of a kind. He’s had a hard journey from the very beginning, and I can’t be more thankful to God for giving me one of the bestest friend’s, ever.

Thank you God and thank you David, for showing me that one’s passion could reach to great heights, without a degree :)

Change; or so I assume

The title says it all. Or at least I think it does. Sigh. This is perhaps one of the few things I dislike about myself. My ability to not decide as to what I entirely want or what I want to do with myself. Perhaps it is time I changed this weirdass perception of moi. Or maybe it is time I decide as to what I can have as opposed to what really want to in the end.
Best example of when my whole new attitude to ‘change’ comes in. I could really like someone and know that I cannot have him and hence move on to someone I may not particularly like but know that I have greater chances of being with. In other words, I ‘changed’ my perception from what I wanted to what was more feasible. Or so I thought.

MEN – who needs them anyway?

Probably as a result of the most shocking news that did cause quite a stir in my busy yet peaceful world, my views on feminism keep growing dangerously strong each passing moment. Though poets – yes I do classify myself to be one though it is not one that I am writing – are allowed exceptional licence in terms of language, I believe that applies only to grammatical connections and not the (inappropriate) use of language. *sigh-smile-yet continues to keep her eyebrows raised*

Though my present state of mind is due to the latest report that was felt by someone near and dear to me, I must say that my perception regarding the subject matter – feminism – has been heightening since of late. Some call it maturity, others define it as immaturity.

I am not the biggest fan in terms of polygamy, yet as it is allowed in my religion – yes, I am a Muslim – so I do stand by what’s been decreed. Simultaneously, regardless of the fact of me considering myself a feminist, voice out for equality and justify polygamy – for spiritual reasons – that does not make me agree to polyandry. A person who practices polyandry in other words could be defined as a ‘legal’ prostitute. Trying to sit on the fence, I believe that one man could be satisfied with one woman and vice versa.

Men’, think women have been created with many complications. (Probably far more superior to their level of intelligence!) Women on the other hand find it hard to cope with the fact that a man is so simply created, thereby making him insignificant. I believe this is the point where all men shut the window in order to stop reading. Please note that everything I include in my commentary is that of what I have seen, learnt and experienced. Yes, I have matured and do partially justify the fact that one man differs from another. And that certain attributes that may be seen in a majority of men which could be classified as negative, necessarily may not be prevalent in the remaining minority of men. Blaming it on my present psyche, I cannot but help notice the irony embedded in the phrase “necessarily may not be prevalent”. In other words there is a considerable percentage where the entire race of men been well, what in English slang one may refer to illegitimate children as. I believe this is the point where men with hardcore anti-feminism policies hire hit-men to be sent after me.

It’s not as though I don’t believe in Obama’s concept of ‘change.’ Yet, I must say that he speaks of a hypothetical situation; a classroom situation adopted by a teacher to make the explanation simpler. I personally believe that change is something that one should adopt themselves. It’s not something that could be plastered in the forehead of another. I feel the same way when it comes to environmental conservation and action against climate change. Similarly, I believe it is the same when it comes to my discussion of the male gender. Whist all men may have the possibility of turning out to be a replica of the negative genre, there may be a very insignificant number of males who strive at changing themselves at being a better person; to set an example to their fellow gender; to prove to women like myself that ‘not all men are the same’. But the conflict I face is that, regardless of having come across this insignificant number, the stance that has been created initially will always be there. I suppose it’s a personal effort – a very difficult one I must admit – for women such as myself to change our attitude. Believing in fate, I honestly have no clue as to why in the midst of changing, does another example of the negative genre spring up thereby contributing to the already deteriorating perspective!

In relation to the topic, – “MEN – who needs them anyway?” - I must say that the only reason I ever agreed to people being married or considered marriage myself to one unfortunate soul on some unfortunate date in the very distant future is for the sake of children. I personally, love children and at one point I wanted ten of them. That was of course very much before I was greatly made aware of inflation and over-population. But due to advancements made in medicine and technology we are given ‘artificial insemination.’ “MEN – who needs them anyway?”

Second of all, I must say that the stereotypical portrayal of a – speaking locally – Sri Lankan, man in a household is of the father sitting in the living room with his feet on the coffee table reading the newspapers and the son playing some computer or outdoor game; while the mother would be busily engaged in the kitchen preparing meals whilst the daughter would get about household chores or bring the his father tea. It’s not that I am influenced by Sri Lankan tele-dramas. I’m not television’s biggest fan anyways. But from the little I’ve seen of it, this is what is portrayed in both the real and reel worlds. In conclusion, men are of no use to the household. Unless of course having the exception of fixing the UHF antenna or some such one-off incident. “MEN – who needs them anyway?”

Fellow feminists I doubt your agreement, but for those on the fence or pro anti-feminists all I can say is that, women are most capable of handling most tasks by themselves – please note the use of term ‘most’ and not ‘all’ – and the physical presence of men is more secure but not always more economically cooperative. Men are still respected and ‘looked up to’ only as it has been decreed by God who is far more superior to any man or woman and also for reasons we feminists chose to overlook!

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