This One's for the Boys...

I was sitting on the bus the other day and there was a group of girls sitting behind me listening to some music on their MP3 players. I guess they must have been about fifteen or so, and judging from their identical appearence and the books they were carrying, still in school. Anyway, one of the girls was listening to Chris Brown's "With You" and she was immediately rebuked by her peers for this. Since the whole Chris Brown/Rihanna incident, enjoying music by Chris Brown makes you an advocate for abusive relationships.

Now, I haven't really been following the whole saga of their court case, but I did a quick Google search and can conclude, that yes, Chris Brown was abusive toward Rihanna BUT she was also abusive towards him. So why is that, radio stations all over the USA pulled Chris Brown's songs off the airwaves but not one of them pulled Rihanna's music off the airwaves.

Chris Brown is perceived as the abuser and must deal with the fallout of his actions. In a career, where public image is everything, Chris Brown has definitely suffered his own wounds while Rihanna comes out unscathed.

The funny thing is, the same feminists who were contending for equal rights for both sexes, have nothing to say about this.

To set the record straight, I don't advocate abuse of any form in any relationship, but all I'm saying is that everyone should be responsible for their own actions. If its ok for a girl to hit a guy, then deal with it if he hits you back. Any court of law would tell you that there is some consideration given for self-defence. And just because boys are perceived to be stronger/bigger, its not an excuse.

I hate girls who go on about how they want equal rights in soceity but still want their boyfriends to do all the dirty work. If you want equal rights, then go for it all the way. Don't expect a knight-in shining armour, if you're not willing to be the damsel in distress. I don't think Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty or Snow White fought with their Prince Charmings to wear the pants in the family. They were perfectly happy just waiting to be rescued but we're in the 21st century, and unless you have a lot of time to spare, waiting to be rescued, is not, the most viable option.

So, while you probabally won't catch me listening to Chris brown's music, rest assured that I won't be listening to any Rihanna either.

Ammama

My grandmother died last year.

Her death made me realize a lot of things. Grandparents are the only people who truly love you unconditionally.

Maybe this is only my opinion because of the differences in my relationships with my parents and my grandparents. I seek out my parents and spend time with them. But with my grandparents, maybe it was the generation gap or maybe the language barrier, I don't think I spent as much time with them as I should have. I always thought I would run out of things to say and rather than risk an awkward silence, I kept my interactions with them short and simple.

I feel guilty now when I think of all the things I could have done and said. Whenever I used to come home for holidays and weekends, my grandmother would always be waiting for me, she would make it a point to cook all my favourite food, which I sometimes would not even bother to eat. If I ever went to the kitchen, my grandfather would always tell me to rest and my grandmother would come running to get me whatever it was that I wanted. I now realize, it should have been the other way, I should have tried to do my best to give my grandparents what they wanted rather than them always trying to make me happy. But I was too preoccupied with myself to ever see their love. And yet they loved me, unconditionally, despite my ignorance and all the times I must have, unintentionally, hurt them.

With the passing of my grandmother, I sometimes wonder, is this the end of the Sri Lankan part of me. I'm half-Sri Lankan but I don't know anything about my culture or my heritage. Although I was born in Sri Lanka, I've only been there twice after, I can't cook any Sri Lankan cuisine and even my language is heavily accented.

Having lived most of my life in another country and educated in private and international schools, sometimes I feel like I could never fit in anywhere. With my Malaysian friends, I'm not Malaysian enough to be Malaysian and with my Indian friends, I'm not Indian enough to be Indian. A little bit of this and a little bit of that, with nowhere to really call home, I sometimes worry what kind of culture/heritage I would pass onto my children, when and if I do have any.

My sister and I were discussing the other day, how since my grandmother passed away, there is no one except my mother who calls us by the Sri Lankan-Tamil endearment, "rasati", which roughly means my darling/sweetheart. And how maybe someday there would be no one at all.

It made me realize how fleeting life could be and every day is somehow, today, more precious.

<3 <3 <3

Although this is a work of fiction, it was inspired by a time in my life when I was heavily dependant on someone else. I'm trying to get back into fiction writing so I thought I would share it up here.

When I was younger, my mother told me not to stick my wet fingers into electric sockets, my teachers taught me a hymn to thank the Lord before I ate and I learnt to dip my paintbrushes in clear water and outline the pictures in my colouring book, so that my scribbles did not go outside the lines and my colours did not bleed into each other.
Somewhere though, there is a fine line between growing up and forgetting and I stepped into that line. I let the colours of your life bleed into mine until my red and your yellow became orange, your red and my blue became purple and my yellow and your blue became green. I was no longer me and you were no longer you and we became us.
Slowly, I abandoned all the things I had been taught in the past. I would use my wet fingers to plug in the hair dryer, so that I could dry my hair quickly before meeting you. WIth my fingers entangled in yours under the table I forgot to thank the Lord before I ate my meals. But most of all because we forgot to outline the drawing that is our lives, the colours seeped into each other until we were not two but one. We were like swimmers in the vast, open sea holding onto nothing but each other to survive.
Once upon a time, I would open my Coke can and wait for it to go flat because the bubbles in the soda burnt my tongue, but I drank greedily from the bottle that is your life, and although the bubbles burnt my tongue, I chose to ignore them.
A doctor once explained to me the theory behind the concept of rubbing balm on a body ache- the balm burnt your skin so much that just for a moment, you are able to forget the real pain that is hurting you. At that time, I didn't understand what he was saying but now I know, because every time the razor blade eats away at the thin flesh on my wrist, the pain that engulfs me momentarily numbs the hurt in my heart and for awhile I am able to breathe a little easier. And as I watch the little drops of scarlet blood fall from my wrist onto the floor, my heart beats a little faster, because that blood is MY blood, MY red blood, MY red and ONLY MY red.

1...2...3...CHEESE!

My sisters and I. From top, me(age7),my older sister(age9)

and my younger sister(age4)
I have deliberately decided not to open a Twitter account. Facebook takes up enough of my time. I sound like I'm complaining but I'm not. I love Facebook! For someone like me who is just too lazy to keep in touch, Facebook is pretty much God-send. And I Am Addicted!
But what I really hate is the pictures. Lately, everyone seems to feel that their facebook profile ascertains how cool they are. I honestly feel that the novelty of taking pictures has worn off with the emergence of digital cameras, mobile phone cameras and of course, social networking sites.
When I was growing up, picture-taking was something, more often than not, saved for special occasions. Buying camera film was expensive and developing them was a chore. The result was picture-taking was a cherished family moment. My dad, however, was a wannabe Ansel Adams so we got through our fair share of camera rolls!
Even now, whenever I'm back home, one of the things I most like to do is take down old family albums and look at the pictures of my sisters and I posing and preening to our glory. We have shelves full of albums! One for each of us and the older ones of my parents- their wedding, their courtship, their college days, their childhood and even some older ones of my grandparents.
In high school, when digital cameras were a luxury we were yet able to afford, my friends and I took pictures with our bulky Nikons, of events in school, our crushes and just some classic moments. But until the film was over and developed we never got to see the pictures and because we were sure that the pictures were not going to be published online for all the world to see, we were ok being crazy, silly and ugly. No one forced you to delete pictures off your camera because they didn't look good, there were no pretentious pictures taken solely for the purpose of publishing it on Facebook, Friendster, Twitter, Orkut or any other place. Pictures were taken solely for the purpose of creating and preserving a memory.
And I really miss that.

Welcome! Carpe Diem!

I'm 22 and I still don't know what to do with my life. A lot of people tell me thats not really a huge deal, there are millions of people all over who have no idea what they want to do. But I always thought I was different. That by 22, with a Masters degree I would be all set. Well as it turns out after 15 years of school, 3 years of a degree and 1 and a half years of a Masters, I STILL have no idea what I want to do.
I was talking to a friend today about what my goals and ambitions were and when I mentioned at that some point I had harboured hopes of being a journalist, he said that there was no point just thinking or talking about it, I had to do something about it. So here I am. Starting a blog. I'm not entirely sure what I am going to write about but after a whole year looking at numbers and studying Business, I've realized how much I've missed writing so it should be interesting!
Will keep you updated:-)