Rest in peace

Funeral rituals can be as complex as weddings. I am talking of the different kinds of mourners and the ambience at a place and event where everything ‘joyful’ must be banished from the air. I am amazed at all those people who weep as if their supply of oxygen has been cut off due to the departing of the deceased. What leads them to wail and beat on their chest so hard and proclaim that this death has caused a great void in their lives and that it will effect their emotional well being ? In all due respect to a loss of human life, I perfectly understand and can relate to if close family members express their profound sorrow. But I am talking about the ones that sound phoney even when sobbing. It doesn’t stop with merely sobbing, those who are present, will also get an opportunity to hear about the exemplary life lead, how the deceased always put the interest of others before one’s own. Such statements voiced out does not really matter even if deceased has been a selfish miser, conner, swindler or just another loser I have spotted numerous times, where people who genuinely knew the person would tend to wear snickering smiles and eyeball each other as if they were throttled to spit out the appropriate character attestation of the deceased. The rest who probably have known the deceased not quite well, will have no option but to listen to the sorrowful chanting of these sometimes hired mourners. I also tend to think about all the back hand operations that run behind the curtains of some funeral undertakers. All those people who typically hang outside state hospitals waiting to receive news of indoor patients hanging on life’s last strings or has already kissed life goodbye. The total death count for the day would be conveyed by hospital attendants (who are more likely to be rewarded, for providing instant information) This information will instantly be conveyed to the funeral undertaker who will arrange for his representative to go to the respective wards and explore the possibility of securing an order for a coffin. Some turn low to the extent of getting the flower wreaths that stand near the freshly dug grave back so that could be a double sale. My brain rattles in every direction making me ponder on the strangeness of human lives. Funerals always make me look at the big picture. My first one was my dad’s. I was 4 and couldn’t understand why my father lay in a stupid wooden box and so many people standing around. The only memory I have of my first funeral is being quiet until 4 men came along and closed the box confirming that it was the end.

Zero Seven Seven

When I stepped into the world of work, my address book gave room to write only a contact’s personal address and telephone number. Many of my contacts were my class mates, cousins, relatives and others whom I met at a private class. After I settled well in the working world, I had to get myself an bigger address book with more pages. By this time I had made a few contacts at work, colleagues mostly. As the years went by it was the ‘ in ’ to store all your contacts in an electronic organizer. I remember walking into Robert Agencies down Reclamation Street to browse through the many different models of electronic organizers. I browsed around and quietly glanced at the price tag ranging from Rs.8,000, Rs, 12,000, and ending up with Rs. 20,000. The shock was too much, but I managed to absorb it and retain the elegance that I carried with myself when I walked in. I politely lied to the salesman saying I will make another visit. I haven’t been to Robert Agencies since then. Time went by, IT skills were being the most desired skills in a workplace, I didn’t specifically go for special training to learn the ropes. I kept moving, trying my luck in the world of work in many different workplaces, At a start up company, I was a good looking Compaq desktop on my desk. I didn’t mind the fact that it occupied half my desk, I was determined to learn the hidden trick in making the pc work for me. I succeeded. Meanwhile outside there was something else that was taking everybody by storm. The telephone had shrunk and it was possible to carry it wherever you went. Many of the corporate tie swaying executives began to carry the shrunk telephone and with it landed a more blown up ego, changes in behaviour. The first one that arrived in Sri Lanka, the weight and dimensions of a brick came in at a price of Rs.100,000 by the only mobile service provider Celltel. The women in the higher echelons of society had to have one during their visits to the supermarket, salon, spa while their husbands did business, reserved golf timings. Clearly the mobile phone was only meant to be with a certain segment. With me, I guess the price held me back and did not want to repeat the episode at Robert Agencies. Gradually more players came on the field, By this time I had moved up to the central rungs of the ladder. Many of my colleagues were getting a phone for themselves. My mind was wavering on the notion that do I really need this ? I postponed further on the lines that who will I talk to ? I can use the phone at work or the regular call box on the street or simply pop into a communication centre. By this time, different models of phones began to flood the market. Along the same time Typhoon SMS & KIT pre-paid cards hit the communication circles in Sri Lanka. Fascinating I thought (now when I recall I am embarrassed) Yes…the urge arrived and increased in volumes. I had to have one as well. Sheepishly I pushed a leave application towards my Manager who gave me a where-are-you-off-to ? look but approved it without any hassle. I walked over to the fancy arcade down Duplication Road and spent some time browsing at the neat little gadgets. I settled for a Ericsson AT 100 phone doled out 7 thousand and 1 five hundred Rupee notes. Filled out some paper work and listened to the salesman giving me initial briefing on charging the battery. I watched him deftly slip in the chip into the phone and hand me the entire package. I walked out of the store, head high feeling elated at the thought of actually owning a mobile phone. Yes the Ericsson did provide me a good service. I was able to chat on the way to work, back from work, and also switch to SMS when it was advisable to not move your lips on some things. By this time the image of a mobile phone spelling luxury was slowly fading off. More featured phones hit the shelves with camera phones really stealing the show, then came video, music, radio, virtually driving everybody nuts. With each feature arriving as customary it was the ‘in’ thing to have that phone. Realistically it was not achievable with everybody because the zero’s at the end of the price increased with each new feature. As for me, when my Ericsson died, I settled for a Nokia 2300 with a radio as an added feature and accompanied me virtually everywhere until it peacefully departed and I settled for another member of the same family, who is still with me, giving me a little more extra features like radio, video, voice recorder and even lets me check my mail on the go and reply. I get quite a lot done from the 6070 and can be contented you think ? Not really (no I am not complaining) but with all the innovation that’s creeping into these phones, and being bombarded with a ideas on this and that at unusual moments, my eyes are set on memory capacity, music player in addition to what I already have. My hunt continues for the ideal phone, the truth is if I fancy a particular model, the zeros at the end of the price give me the creeps. Then I have to repeat the Robert Agencies Episode at the store. A part of me is telling me that during a time of recession dishing out so much on a phone is a waste and another part of me is trying to enlighten me on buy back offers. I leave home for work, the fisherman is heading towards our home with my mom waving me to stop, he nods, he cannot answer because he is talking on his phone. When I get into the office transport virtually everybody is hooked to their phone in some way, either glued to the radio, texting, talking. At work different ring tones make me realize that my colleagues are receiving calls. Out on the road, the trishaw driver is picking up hires, salesman are busy negotiating over the phone, a teenager in a bus stop is grinning and texting while some are staring at a mms and giggling. I noticed the subtle change even in the villages where the mudalalis seem to negotiate with wholesellers and even some farmers checking for market prices for their harvests in other villages. I am happy that a simple gadget has made life a little easier for everybody. Now who said that its American Express we shouldn’t leave home without ? p.s. My address book is history because all of them are sitting comfortably in my 6070

Beyond the deep breathing and stretching ………..

I looked forward to visiting the quaint little place filled with different shades of green. A large elephant god sat at the entrance with the fragrance of incense burning sending out feel good vibes for all who came by. The ambience was perfect to spread out a mat, listen to the chanting, breathe deeply and stretch. I had to admit it. I was hooked to yoga. With each ‘breathe in and breathe out’ accompanying a single movement of an asana, a great degree of tranquility was creeping into me, giving me a better grip over life’s little hum drums. Something was clipping my restlessness. My addiction also came with a prize I had to pay with unending cramps, muscle twists and stiffness. I was determined to learn the technique of this ancient art where today, it’s originality has been distorted with the likes of pilates and aerobics. I loved the silent buzz of the Himalayan chants seeping through my ear drums while I gathered myself to pose like a tree, a plough, tortoise, flipped over countless times in trying to achieve the frog pose. The winding off session was the best and the most amusing with everybody lying on the floor, supposed to be totally relaxed in the pretext of being a corpse. During the process of relaxing each and every part of the body starting from the toes and moving onto the head, some dozed off to a mild slumber which brought out smiles in the faces of the rest. I was restless, this wasn’t adequate, I had to know more. Over the days and months that followed, I read extensively about its history, origins, famous yogis, the art of training the mind to be a more productive being. What I gathered was an interesting collection, how the great maestro B.K.Iyengar started and went on to open the finest training school. Somehow everything that connected to yoga became my passion (including the strange shaped wooden beaded jewellery). Did I stop at merely reading ? no, that wasn’t enough, the urge was severe….I had to see things for myself. A couple of visits to land of the origin really nailed me flat. The first thing that caught my attention was the serenity of every single human face that crossed eyes with me. Many questions crossed my mind, “is this pretence?’ “are they real?” It wasn’t only the looks, this sombre manner was evident even in the manner they spoke, responded. No they were not like zombies. They were perfectly normal human beings but with a better grip of things should I say ? My spells of temptations were getting bad, I had to now spend a day or two and check this out. I convinced the unhurried souls to let me stay a night. I relished the dhal that washed over the plate of rice, fresh spring water. Chanting before bedtime, wake up at the crack of dawn, cold shower, yoga to start off the day. Hey this was good. Felt lighter, easier and more relaxed. My mind was churning…what would it be to hang on here for good ? Unanswered question…and many of them too…..I am still looking for the ideal solution one that really fits in with my desires. The search continues, until then I keep stretching to the chants of Morning Ragas

Trawler to gondola - rocky voyage to smooth sailing ?

I am heading to Puttalam, my eyes trail the familiar sight of coconut trees gracing the landscape passing many of the coastal towns along the Western Coast, not unusual you would say, except that coconut trees and catholic churches in abundance. As Marawila, Chilaw appears there seem to be a change that has crept in, More of an Italian essence coupled with the Lankan flavour. Cloth banners hang at the entrance of bare plots of land calling them ‘Naples Valley’ ‘Little Rome’ ‘Sicilian villa’ ? am I seeing right ? Passing the lands up for grabs, I stop to marvel at the Italian style villa peeping through the coconut trees that seem to spoil the Italian ambience intended to be given by the owners. An immediate splurge of curiosity creeps in to my head, I am trying to figure out the reason for this transformation. More villas begin to show up and many Euro money exchange centres in the busy town. I spot a couple of signboards screaming out ‘Spoken Italian classes’….. Bingo ! yes of course this is where the Lankans in Italy flush their earnings back home for a more comfortable tomorrow. Perhaps in appreciation for a better chance in life, the lands, houses were named after Italian towns, provinces ? I had read and heard how many youth in sheer desperation to succeed and make it big in life, spend enormous money and embrace risk to go in trawlers, in the rough seas to Italy looking for work with decent pay. A pay that they could never dream of getting back at home. Quite recently the local daily said that there was a youth who simply hung around for 10 years waiting to go to Italy. He still hasn’t made it but he did make it big in a different way through his musical talents. The rest who do make it, take up any kind of …… that would make them save enough to build a Italian style villa, or something closer, educate the children in a private or international school, a nice comfortable vehicle and all the rest of the never ending list of things that make one’s life. Not only a hand up in life, but both legs, feet and arms all of it. I am somewhat fascinated, somewhat amused at the thought of realizing how Sri Lankan can quickly embrace and adopt to a new culture. I begin to wonder what it must be like at the other end, when these youth land, not knowing the dialect, not fully understanding the culture lost in a total alien land. My brain is busy recalling the many success stories I read in several newspapers. Somewhere down the memory maze, I recall the Sinhala dailies talking of musical shows, February 4th celebrations and Avurudhu games in Italy. A sampling of Sri Lankan fun in the land of Pisa and Pizzas ! Sadly not all make it through to gigantic boot shaped land in Europe, but despite the struggle and agony endured, many others continue to take the plunge not knowing if the trawler they are cramped in, would throw them into the sea or shove them in to a Gondola. Santa Maria ! God help them.

Is the dot and @ icon on your pc fading ?

When the world of cyberspace and emailing hit Sri Lanka, having your own unique email id was considered somewhat important in the workplace. I remember having one common email id and everyone’s mail arriving in the mailbox that was sorted out for reply. In one of my workplaces, (despite the fact that I was replying on behalf of many others to cover up for their language deficiency or sometimes laziness) I didn’t have my own unique email id. The day I was given an email id with my name followed by the symbol @ something followed by dot com made me feel a little important. As I recall those simple things that gave me a boost it makes me wonder how I ended up having a gamut of web related applications to deal with. I was receiving my own mail now and was able to respond from my unique id. Not stopping at that I also registered in hotmail, yahoo and finally gmail. My work involved a lot of writing and on a personal front, I also had to stay in touch with my cousins, relatives, friends who had crossed the shores of Sri Lanka. I now had to check several accounts but to me that didn’t matter, I guess a part of me was taken up with the world of electronic communication. I was enjoying this, there was no need to wait for the postman, nor have to deal with nail biting moments when the Sri Lanka Postal Service decides to wind up working and call it a day of ‘rights defending’ I was taken up with replies received from distant lands claimed to be a couple of hours behind or ahead us. No more 7-10 day replies, This was live and happening and came within a couple of minutes, hours not exceeding a day. Then came, the trend of chatting, I tried that as well but soon realized that was a huge disturbing element to my concentration in producing quality work. Chatting was not for me although was nice just once in a while with doors opened to make friends, exchanging views and ideas. I find it amazing in different times how technology can create a silent tsunami with your life. While once upon a time hotmail and yahoo was in, it is now facebook, myspace, zorpia, linkedin and many many more that are in the limelight. There’s B2B trade portals that are really a thing with the commercial business’s while the scribes are after google earth and other news sites accessible to everybody. There’s no need to walk into a library and browse encyclopedias for information, A simple key word, hit enter on Wikipedia can provide you the information in seconds while Wapaedia can replace the service on your WAP enabled phone. When the skype craze hit the workdesks, everybody went berserk at the thought of being able to talk to their friends and family across the globe with merely a headphone and neat piece of software installed in a pc. Yes, I signed with skype as well, but not really have had the time to actually use it much. You Tube brings out the movie making skills in you while flickr is generous in letting you maintain a digital photo store house in cyberspace. Who can forget blogging when millions simply maintain their journals online with random thoughts and photos are accessible to anyone. A simple dot before the com surely revolutionized the trends in communicating and gave birth to ‘infotainment’ the new cliché to creep into corporate jargon. I write with ease knowing I can look upto askoxford.com for help in any definition or reaching out to Wikipedia for extra information and multi tasking between responding mails that arrive now and then in my mail box while John Lennon and Paul Mc Cartney is sending energetic music waves of “Here comes the sun” to my ears. I am looking forward to more changes in communicating, I’ll probably get that one into my clutter as well. Just now, I received an electronic invitation to open up a web album in picaso, I already have flickr, Do I need more clutter ? I guess I will receive several hundreds like these as and when more developments take place, until them I’ll stop by wishing more power to