Monday, August 14, 2006

Hidden Art






That's me peeping in from the edge. Cloudless days such as this one are not rare during springtime here in Melbourne. This was taken in 2004 when Buths, Praveen and I made a pilgrimage to Phillip Island to see the Penguins there. Praveen took this picture. He didn't mean to take this picture. It was an accident... an honest mistake. Yet, it is arguably the closest encounter he has had with 'Art' in his entire life. So it was a nice accident. Only he doesn't think it is. How sad!

Sunday, August 13, 2006

A wonderer’s song

She sends me kisses with rain drops
That land on my lips from the skies
The wind blows a silent promise
That my heart stole from her eyes
I sing with the birds every morning
And hear the echo of her sweet voice
But I wonder the earth without her
So for now a dream would suffice
Every little molecule that greets me
Is a pledge of a delightful surprise
I still remain hungry and foolish
Perhaps love will make me wise

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

I thought about you

When the tea bags danced
In my brown mug
With blistering water;
And a noisy choir of birds
Sang their morning songs outside my window...
I thought about you.

When I stepped into the sun
On this glorious spring day,
The mild warmth of sunshine
And a cold wind greeted me.
As I zipped up my jacket and welcomed the day...
I thought about you.

When a glowing moon
Shot up before dusk
From a purple horizon;
Like a fire cracker,
Waiting to explode into a million stars...
I thought about you.

I may have dreamt,
Of those long dark curls
And sharp bright eyes.
So I pause and think.
I feel I do, but my mind still doesn’t know why...
I thought about you.

Do you think we will be
Unfortunate or sad
If we never even meet?
We are strangers still;
So I don’t know how you’d feel if you knew that...
I thought about you

Monday, August 07, 2006

This minute

WARNING!
(Under construction - Cousins working on site. Please wear protective gear. Do not trespass.)


By Namali Premawardhana & Harendra Alwis

A minute in the life of a lonely boy
Sixty seconds of agony
Do you call it a waste of time?
Can you honestly call it a waste of time?
When sixty seconds of agony
Just pass him by

A minute in the life of a lonely girl
Sixty seconds of pain
Do you call it a waste of time?
Can you honestly call it a waste of time?
When sixty seconds of pain
Just pass her by

Chorus:
Each minute is a treasure worth a thousand smiles
Don't spend them on tears or worthless sighs
Open your heart
Spread your wings and fly
This minute is precious
This is your life

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Betrayed (Dedicated to the smartest 11 year-old I know)

Two lives that bore another
Sleep in two distant corners
Of a remorseless world
The little nest they built
Once held together by love
And promise
Is now fractured by memories
Half truths and lies
And betrayals
Of yesterday

Their little boy
Is tucked under a blanket
Of a dark experience
He sleeps
In a forsaken Palace
Trying to hold on
To receding dreams
The only glow in his world
Is the dim starlight

He struggles to understand
How those who loved him
And he loved so dearly
Could let him down
And take away his childhood
He will have to learn again
To trust
The love of another person
And to bear the pain
That love alone can cause
In its absence

People he once loved
Commands him
To have more faith
And hope
But each rising sun
Is a test that he must pass
To survive in a world
More cruel and unforgiving
Than those who stole the smile
He always wore on his face

He wakes up
To endure another day
To win the small battles
That life has arranged for him
To fill empty minutes
At school
With friends
In the playgrounds
Along dusty streets
And long winding roads
Of time

Sometimes he sings
A soft happy tune
From a happier time
He pretends and acts
But he cannot find the script
Of this drama
That he is acting in now
The scenes roll on
But there are no awards or medals
For the best actors and actresses

He can no longer notice
Or smell the sweetness
Of flowers in his own garden
Because winds carry the stench
Of rotting garbage dumps
That a wasted city
Has thrown by the roadside
He bravely blows away
Painful memories into the breeze
But also looses his grip
On happier ones