This is by James Radcliffe
Fish Behind the Glass Wall
My youngest Arj was about three and Hari is Three and half years older than Arj so I guess he would have been around six or seven or in between. It was the school holidays so we had gone down to Melbourne. Each day was where are we going today? We were ticking off all the Kid-tourist thing on the list. Sandwiches were made. Drinks all packed. And then with all the hurry ups, have you been to the toilet and the rest of rushing we made it to the Aquarium at last.
I think we went somewhere before that and this was our second pit stop. There was a cafe, some tables and chairs outside the cafe and a queue for the tickets for the Aquarium. We decided to sit down for a bit have something to eat before going in. Hari wanted to go to the toilet or wash his hands or maybe he had spilt something on his t-shirt, details are a bit vague. I guess what happened after took precedence and stuck in my brain and the rest are just in various threads.
When Hari and I returned from the wash room, my hubby the responsible dad who was supposed to watching the little one was highly engrossed and his head buried in the local paper. And Arj was nowhere to be seen. I have to push away my first thought “I am going to kill you” to aside to look for Arj. I was so angry and I was so scared. Arj has always been a bit of wanderer, but this was not good. The place was packed, it was the school holidays. We were all looking everywhere and yelling out his name.
Hari spotted Arj inside the Aquarium, how did the little brat go inside without a ticket? Ahh!! I was going to kill him, after I finish with hubby, no, not sure which one first, I frantically spurted out some words to the guard at the entrance, “that’s my kid inside could I go or could you retrieve that kid for me, Please, Please”. I was pointing to my kid “which kid?” Alas there are millions of them there, he knew this wasn’t a woman who was trying to get in without a ticket, Probably he has kid who wanders too, I don’t know but he let me in.
There was this big Glass wall, from one side of room to the other. Arj was oblivious to all the commotion, he was just mesmerized by this big fish. He was following the fish from one end to the other, running with fish. My anger melted, not sure if it was just relief that I found him, or seeing him so happy unaware of all the dangers and living in his world where nothing is bad.
We had bought the tickets previously, so the guard and rest of the people on the queue just let hubby and Hari to join us inside.
Arj stops running and turns around and says ” I like this fish, I love this Fish” And then loud and clear he goes “I want to eat it”
I could feel everyone’s gasp. We just wanted to fade away, just wanted the ocean to open up and take us in, or hoping that no one heard it. Trying to make things better I said “but darling the fish is bigger than you” no, things didn’t get any better, With his left hand (as he is left handed) made a gesture of cutting with cutlery, and said “but I can cut it”
The husband of the lady behind joined, and the lady pointing to Arj said “that boy wants to eat that fish” Luckily she was laughing. I still wanted to disappear. Ah!! so “no one heard it” was out.
Yes he was given the lecture of not leaving his parents, holding hands, stranger danger, etc etc. Not that it made any difference the next couple of times he went for a wander. I had vowed to kill him and my husband too many a times after that for various infringements. But kind of happy to note that, Arj has made it to nineteen and knows his way home. My husband is still alive too (sometimes only just).
Daily post word – Glass
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/glass/
Forbidden Love
Since the time of Romeo and Juliet, no even before that, Love was forbidden for one reason or another.
Love was forbidden because of religion, social status, race, color, cast, money or even gender.
Love should be the most natural thing in life, but Hate seems to take over at most times.
I don’t think we have the right to forbid anyone from love, especially when we know,
what it is to be young and to fall in love. What it is to be old and still feel the flame.
Just because you can’t get how two people of different religions can make it work…
Just because you can’t get how two people of different skin colors can make it work…
Just because you can’t get how two people, one rich and one dirt poor can make it work…
And
Just because you don’t condone a man in love with a man …
Sorry, we don’t have the right to forbid love
Ps
But I certainly hope the girls my boys bring don’t have tattoos and piercings. Ugghh… I hope I don’t have to eat my words.
Daily post – Forbidden
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/forbidden/
My Island Paradise
The pearl of the Indian Ocean, once the envy of the east, now torn and battered, gasping, clutching at the last straws to survive another day. Is it the end of the civil war or just cease fire for another eruption, for another day for another cause?
A lot has happened since the start of the civil war, loss of my friend and then my departure to Australia. Before I go any further I like to dedicate this story/writing/rant to my late friend Lalith Gunesinghe. This is not all about Lalith. But Lalith’s passing was the main reason for me to analyse what happened, what went wrong in my place of paradise.
I have no illusions of changing the mindset of the Sri Lankan’s, but I do hope that I make at least an iota of difference in someone’s thinking, especially of those from Australia, or at least amongst the young generation to make them think, make them aware of what actually happens in a war. More importantly when you hear it on the news, it is just data and that of distorted data, words such as “casualties” are thrown around, just a mere number, their names are not important, I understand that there are too many of them, but there lies a real person, he is a dad, a son, a brother or even a friend. This person is going to be missed by all, and not just for that moment, but for years and years to come.
My name is Uma Sivapalan. To a Sri Lankan this name would explain that I am a female of Tamil origin and most likely a Hindu. My friend Lalith Gunesinghe was a Sinhalese male.It is, if the name was Mc Donald it is very likely the person is of Scottish decent, likes the bottle with the walking man and has a good command of the“f” word. Lalith’s name doesn’t really stipulate that he was Buddhist, but most likely. Some of those who converted to Christianity during the English colonisation did not change their surnames. But Lalith was a Budhist from the Kandy region. Upper Class. My forefathers came from the North of the country Jaffna. Again from the right class and stock.
History is usually written by the victor. But what saddens me most is not that History could be biased. But, we use history for the wrong reasons. We should learn from our mistakes, but preserve the good. We constantly do it in reverse.
Sri Lanka is a very small Island with a big population. Most of us are not even Christians, but we believed in “go forth and multiply”. It is made up of Sinhalese (majority), Tamils, Muslims and Burghers. Languages spoken are Sinhala, Tamil and English. Not sure why we did not adapt Portuguese and Dutch. We took their surnames and cooking but not their languages. Thank god we didn’t look to the English for cooking tips. We stopped at sipping the tea. We copied a bit of the singing and dancing from the Portuguese as well. Budhism and Hinduism came from India. With the invasions of the west, some of us converted to Christianity. Islam came from the Arab traders.
I think what baffles most of the westerners who have visited the island is that, if you take the individual Sri Lankan, he is a very peaceful and lovable person. They are renowned for their generosity and friendship, how can such a lot then be involved in a terrible war, where they killed their own. Yes, we killed our own. Yes, you can separate them as per their language/dialect they speak. But, we are really the same. Some Tamils, who are now residing in different countries, have taken a stance to say that theyare not Sri Lankan’s. I understand their reasons, but finding it hard to condone it fully.
We look the same, brown skin, black hair, dark eyes etc. Act the same way when someone asks you “are you from India?”. I am still to witness a Sri Lankan, who takes more than two seconds to say, “NO I AM FROM SRI LANKA ”. We respond as if we’ve been called a pariah. In this we become SriLankans. It may be a tiny isle, but it has its own identity, New Zealand is not Australia.
As a Tamil, I understand why some of the Tamils have disowned their birth place. I sometimes wonder if I am a Sri Lankan or an Australian. Am I being unfaithful to Australia, when I secretly wish Sri lanka doesn’t lose badly in the cricket? Am I being unfaithful to Sri Lanka when I support Australia over my birth place? For some Aussies they can’t understand why I don’t support Sri Lanka, for some others it definitely has to be Australia, I have adopted this country that means I should support everything Australia. If not I am being unfaithful. It’s not that easy or simple. It’s like when you get married, now you have another set of family and an extended family. Just because you love your husband doesn’t mean you hate your parents or siblings. The love and affection you have for you’re in laws will depend on each ones experience. And hence the reason why migration either works or doesn’t work. The answer is not one size fits all. It depends on both parties as well. And if you love or hate your birth place will depend on your individual circumstance. I will revisit this area again later, why for me I cannot join the collective hate nor love for Sri Lanka.
It is now over 25 years in Australia, most of it spent in Sydney and the last ten years or so in Adelaide. Altogether I have lived more of my living years in Australia than in Sri Lanka. Does it make me an Australian or Sri Lankan? Legally yes I am Australian, but within me who do I want to be? More importantly what does the rest of Australia accept me as?
I feel like an adopted child who is extremely happy with her adopted parents. Have the same anguish and disappointment of my birth parent Sri Lanka. I did nothing wrong, but she still let me down. I don’t really care, I am in a good place, in fact I am in a better place, the best place, but it still hurts.
Cont…
The above is a story I am currently in the process of writing. I was not going to publish this until I completely finish it and analyse it, as I have a feeling I am going to annoy a lot Tamils as well as Sinhalese with I say and reveal.
The reason for me to publish some of it today is because My New Island Paradise Australia is showing signs of falling pray to racism. I am really upset and annoyed. Every time a foreign celebrity, accuses Australia of being racist, I keep defending and say “Nah” they are just open about what they say, absolutely amazing people. Just a small minority is spoiling it for everyone.
I am posting my story because I want you numb nuts to know that there is nothing amazing about going to war. Not within your own country. You may not know it, but this is just a paradise. Please don’t spoil it because your kids wants Kung Pao Chicken for dinner and not your pot roast.
A vote for Pauline Hanson is a vote for racism. Come on guys we can do better than that. I am not saying we don’t have issues with refugees and migration. But we need to address them in a democratic way.
Imagine if your child is born being hated. Where do you think he will end up. That’s exactly where you are sending the Muslim kids to. Straight to ISIL. In my view anyone who engages in hate speech/rally is also a Terrorist. Well, if you see a bunch of Muslims gathered and say bad things about Christians what would you call them?
I am skeptical about churches and priests after, what I’ve heard of the horrors that happened behind certain doors. Yes, I am angry with all the churches and priests. As in my mind even if you didn’t commit the crime, you allowed it to go on, so you are guilty too. You don’t want to know what I think of Cardinal Pell. But do I then go on to hate my neighbor who is a Catholic too?
The question of whether Islam is a religion of Peace or not is another ludicrous argument. All religions are meant to be peaceful, But every religion or it’s followers manage to make it as vile as possible. Every religion, at one time or another has been the cause of some misery. Because religion is in the hands of the man, he will twist it and turn it to suit him. Let’s stop blaming religions and blame the actual culprits. Let’s stop generalizing a whole group of people and address the individuals who commit the crime.
I think I have vented enough. World Peace seems far away. But, ever the optimist, will sign of demanding for one.
Daily post word prompt: Island
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/island/
Remember it’s water not oil to calm the Burning Fire
Tree by tree the flame takes over
The shrub tries to reason, but scorched away.
Smallest little ember now spreading at a rate of thousand trees a day.
Despair and misery,
All a common scene every summers day.
Blame and anger fills the town
Is it Arson or it just the horror of nature
Is it back burning gone wrong or the “Greens” non action
As a nation we all pull together
We look for answers but never forget the suffering
Even the Koala gets a drink
As a nation we mourn together
It’s water not oil to calm the burning fire
My fellow Australians
Leave racism to the Yanks and the Brits
Remember it’s water not oil to calm the Burning Fire
Daily Post word – Burn
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/burn/
Opinion — By Irishnana
I met a woman a while ago who was questioning a newspaper headline. The headline read, “Cat Burglar Strikes Again.” Candidly she wondered why anyone would break into any place to steal cats (I swear – her exact words). Upon hearing this, one friend nearly choked to death on a wine cooler, two other of our […]
via Opinion — Irishnana
Reblog
Can I lick the wooden spoon?
It’s a right of passage, every mothers duty
To hand down that wooden spoon,
Down the generation it goes, life’s simplest of pleasures
A tradition, a culture followed from Canada to Calcutta
When do we grow up, wanting more?
When does, can I? become want and want becomes need?
When does need becomes more than I need?
A tradition, a culture spreading from North to the South
Life’s simplest of pleasures,
That’s all I want.
Daily post word : Pleasure
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/pleasure/
Finally a Sit-In to Change the Gun Laws!
A great write up on the Gun laws or the lack of it in USA
A 13-year-old boy from Virginia tried to buy lottery tickets and porn magazines in 2014, that was denied. He tried to buy alcohol and cigarettes, that too was denied because of his age.
View original post 296 more words
A Tourist- On Your Own Land
We returned to Sri Lanka after nearly 16 years since coming to Australia. The boys born here in Aus. Other than a brown skin, there was not much Sri Lankan in them.
This was not due to any conscious planning on our part to disassociate with our culture. We had no issues with our heritage, nor did the boys. They knew of our food, and enjoyed many of the delicacies, but so did the rest of Australia. In fact many of the Aussies could handle a fair bit of the burning Chilly. Where as my boys, especially my eldest struggled with even a hint of it. Once again before I get judged for not ramming down the chilly,down my kids throat, was simply because he struggled with it.
I have many theories or may be just two, one of them being that I suffered severely with re flux when I was pregnant with him, so I avoided the chilly and then again when I was breast feeding, and voila he has no tolerance to the gun powder. The second reason being he doesn’t really like it. Which is okay. My husband doesn’t like sweets, and no one says no he needs to learn to eat everything.
The other major hurdle when we returned to the mother land was that the kids didn’t speak the language. It’s not really a major hurdle as most speak very fluent English as we were once an English Colony. Even before our migration to Australia, hubby and I mostly spoke in English. That was common practice by many. However, you are meant to know your mother tongue. Either Sinhalese or Tamil. We were Tamils, so we should have sent them to Tamil School (which is held on the weekends) and made them speak Tamil. Even if it meant that they spoke it like a Russian speaking Mandarin.
Again no major reason for them not knowing our language. Simply we had bigger issues to worry about and this took 2nd place or unfortunately no place.
The reason why the 16 year absence from the mother land was due to these bigger issues. Our youngest since the age of two, preferred regular visits to the Hospital. Due to two bouts of Pneumonia, his lungs were scarred and needed surgeries. Our Eldest around the same time not wanting to lose his place in the special considerations, lost his hearing. I was running between two different hospitals.
It took years before the youngest was fit enough to even attend a birthday party. My eldest eventually got 80% percent of his hearing back. Their early years were very challenging due to their ill health, our mortgage, and both parents working full time. So, sorry, but teaching them Tamil was not a priority. We were surviving each day at a time.
We finally made the long awaited trip to Sri Lanka after 16 years (nearly not exactly sure, but it was after a loong time). This was extremely important to us, this was the first time they are going to meet my father – in -law, their only living grandfather. It was time for them to see where we grew up, our schools, our extended families and friends.
It was all that when we got there. They had a wonderful time there. So, did we. But they stood out like a clown at a funeral. No one understood their accent. And even when we ordered a burger from KFC, thinking this would be safe without the chilly, no we were wrong, every bit of chicken was already coated in chilly.
It was a great adventure that they will never forget. But the two young brown skinned tourists were rather happy to come back home.
Daily post word – Tourist
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tourist/
Uma's life and thoughts 