The moment would eventually pass…

It hurts to know that someone heading for trouble… but it hurts even more when you know trying to help them out will only make that invisible line closer…

She knew we would accept her anytime, anywhere and that is what gave her confidence. She knew she could do whatever and all she would need is a charming, heart – warming smile to get an appology. What gives her confidence is what makes me worried. I’m not worried about my weakness, but what I’m actually worried about is her future. She’s Just finiding oppurtunities to spoil, to mar, to destroy her future. It’s killing her… from the inside, and from the outside. She’s got into believing that a charming smile and a few dramatic stage skills she can capture the world. Of course, she can capture the world but that won’t last forever. For a moment the world might spin around and glittering eyes may look at her… but when they realise her real self, or when she runs dry of ideas, the world would turn back on her. Just forget her and then she’ll realise her mistake. But it’ll be too late… Then she’d come back to us… shed a few tears and she knows we’ll welcome her again. But that’ll work for a few years… everything has an optimum point. Then even hope will denature. When our hope denatures, she’ll realise the truth. It’ll be pathetic. I’ll shed silent tears. I’ll cry for her. I’ll wish for the old memories. I’ll want to turn back and run… but, it’ll be too late. If I try to save her, she might get into more trouble. All I will be able to do is to wish. To pray. To hope. The moment would eventually pass…


Walking in his footsteps

I walk in my grandfather’s footsteps.

I want to be there. Stuck in that moment forever… when he stretched out his arms before us and spoke in his tedious voice. Teaching us with every word he spoke, bringing up an untold discipline and marvelling us with whatever he had to say. When in all my innocence I asked him once to promise to stay with me forever he smiled, took my face in his hands and spoke to me, “I’m sorry but I can’t stay with you forever. You see there, you’ve got a long way to go. Your future is bright… you’re still very young. Look at me. I’m old and weak and I can barely walk around  the garden. It’s time I have a rest. I’ll leave you soon but you should make sure to walk in my pathway. Don’t let the footsteps dry. I leave it to you.” With those words he left me. I walk in his footsteps, the others don’t. It doesn’t matter… I won’t let the footsteps dry.


This little thing I’ve written is something true yet unclear. On our latest class trip to Trincomalee we visited a navy beach. It was an area heavily affected by many disasters… yet those little dragonflies filled the air bringing new hope. This was inspired by them.

They were everywhere. The first thing that I recalled at the sight was a million tiny snitches fluttering their wings maniacally in midair. They were inspirational, bridging something between me and the unseen world. I listened to them for a few minutes and then my eyes darted towards the unformed structure of a half built beach house. I climbed it slowly trying to reach those magnificent things. After I climbed to the top I looked dreamily at them. They seemed closer yet they were still unreachable. This time they looked like little keys floating with minuscule wings. Realisation dawned on me. They were the keys to the secret… the secret of how they survived when all else died. Dragonflies, owning a name they do not deserve.

The picture

This is about a little thing that happened in class. Our class was working on a little scrap book to present our class teacher and I selected the photos to be printed. The picture I selected of “Jake” AKA “Baby” (I haven’t mentioned the real names in case I get strangled) was a really lame one. And I loved the way he accepted it.


She feared that they’d shout at her, tell her off for putting their photos. But that was just the photo she would appreciate – their natural sense, them being themselves… trying to act “cool” and of course, failling miserably. That was exactly what she wanted. To make her smile, and laugh about her students’ vain attempts. Full of forebording she clutched the book close to her as she entered the class. They skimmed through the pages with ice block cold eyes and stopped dead on that which held the photo of Jake. They scanned the page for a few moments and said “baby” … she grimmaced wondering what to expect next. Would they tear away the page? would they wreck the whole book? Would they say she was nothing  better than a rude ungrateful creature – but she was going through all the pain, working on the book instead of studying for the exam the next day on behalf of her friends… she feared  this moment. what would they say? …. slowly, Jake moved his large shoulders as he approached her to look at what his whole class was pouring over. He looked suprissed… turned slowly to her and said in a calm voice with a neutral tone, “where did you get this photo from?” … she took a few steps backwards and said slowly “the… umm.. bio exebition thing – at the university – we went -err..” He smiled broadly and said “dude, thank you! I know this picture didn’t turn out well but that’s just me being myself. Thank you. Very, very much.” She sighed relief knowing that they would all henceforth work with her.