Category Archives: People

The Coconut Tree

There is an old coconut tree in front of my grandfather’s home at Kaluthara ( Coastal city in Sri Lanka) . The tree was there for generations. I still can remember my grandfather looking at this tree from his nearby workshop. He was a carpenter. He chop, cut, shape timber into to beautiful wooden furniture’s and objects. He was a man with principals. He made his living by offering these beautiful furniture’s to daughters of rich fathers in our village. Who often had to buy these expensive furniture’s as dowry.  Sometime my grandfather offered his service free of charge to someone who can’t afford dowry. He said at the end only goodness remain. I remember the way he firmly declined the idea of cutting that huge count tree several times even to lucrative deals. For generations I couldn’t understand him.

It isn’t only me had this issue. My father was the first one to make argument to his father.

My father argued saying that coconut tree isn’t valuable as it used to be now, which gives little coconuts and also the threat to home in case of tropical windy monsoon. But grandfather steady as coconut tree never hesitate to change stance.

It took monsoon to realize the true meaning of that silent giant.

Somewhere in early nineties, during early monsoon, when rain nonchalantly hitting the roof making scathing noise, when I was just five, my father was thirty five and my grandfather was sixty five, three of us sit in a row next to each other in an old floor watching rain coming down. I fascinated looking at earth bugs appearing amid wet mist and our pet dog try to catch them. I saw my father and his father looking at coconut tree. It wag to the blowing wind but never breaks. Tenacity of that giant tree kept insisting blowing force of monsoon that it is still young to break. Stubborn to gives it up for whatever reason.

I went my grandfather’s home recently after sometime. It wasn’t the older place used to be twenty three years ago. New veranda, large rooms and whole floors are tiled with resplendent attraction to call a modern home. I find it pleasant and noticed that the floor three generations of sons used to sit is still there with tiles on it.

It start again. The monsoon. Unlike the older days it comes late this time.

I sit on the tiled floor. I recall two men who sit next to me. Both are gone now. But someone else still out there fighting for life. Taking rusty blows of monsoon wind. The true mark of champion is hesitate to give up just like this old coconut tree. It keep feeding fresh energy for life.

I sit on the floor, looked at tiny rain drops. I see shadow of mine next to me. It looks exactly like my father. I know that tree still there and the reason for my grandfather and father to respect it .

It takes time to read little things and connect them to your life, real trump of living is to find this connection.

Still coconut tree wag like good old days, but it never breaks.


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Corridor of uncertainty – Bangalore Traffic

Being in Bangalore for a week, the first thing I noticed was wild ethicode’s embrace by local drivers. I wouldn’t believe if someone told me that, it took not more than several seconds to prove myself that Indian drivers are the best to sneak through ant size spaces amid harsh traffic. In fact that amazement keep widening every inch  we pass in to Bangalore city. When I saw Indian ladies I felt good. They looks pretty. I would say Prettiest in our region, charm and resplended with traditional wardrobe.

It took ten minutes to realized how staggeringly talented these charm ladies when I saw one lady drive opposite direction in a one way traffic without helmet in a daylight smiling to passing cops watch over her.

Pheew …. I tided my seat belt.

I have seen worse traffic in Colombo. Experienced first-hand insanity of tuk tuk drivers in hassling Galle road traffic. Since I want to be honest, I’ll put Bangalore on top.  I can’t compare our fellows with Indians.  Simply they denigrate our traffic expectations.

Corridor of Uncertainty

I can’t refrain from thinking about cricket. It’s like part of our thinking. This is if you love cricket thinking.

“Corridor of uncertainty” is a cricketing term describes inability of a batsmen’s to face seaming ball outside off stump. This period of time is temporary hesitation for most fine batsmen like Bradman, Lara or most occasions Tendulkar. For others depending on ability this can be permanent on a seaming wicket. Sadly footwork and reflex seems far away skill for most of Asian born batsman sleeping in dead low bounce tracks. I have seen Indian and Sri Lankan cricketers dance to music of seam bowling, but man … you need more than foot work to survive here. I saw many bikers without helmets and how passive regulators to take action. Many people seem limited concerns for safety other than traveling early. It is appropriate to say Bangalore roads resembles   “corridor of uncertainty”.


Edge Over Slip Fielder 

Skill of Bangalore drivers would just match Asian  cricketers amazing ability to sneak a boundary  through second & third slip with a blind nudge for a teasing length ball outside off stump on the up for a seaming delivery.  Probably breeding ground for that skill may be out there in this traffic. For all that insanity talent in cricket field must been started here. Bravery mixed with stupid sensation to drive through traffic would be solid box office inspiration to eyes and disturbance to rational mind.

I see potential accident near corner.  But most of passengers never mind being a spectator standing in grass bank with a glass of beer or coconut arrack , shouting cheerfully to  fatal edge  carries over the rope . Tormenting action sequence for rational brain seems no food for these drivers.

Bangalore city can do better. It seems expansion of city loose it grip to build infrastructure or baseline for social economic development for everyone. May be population plays a part.

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