3 months...

I realized, in 3 months my turn comes. To pack my bag, hug my friends, smile through my tears and turn to face the rest of my life.

I know everyone says it....I don't wanna go on and blah blah blah. And I wish so much that there is another way that i could say this, so that I don't sound like just another person who is going.

I know I'll love uni. There's no doubt about that...I know I'll meet great people and learn things and have a great time. And that maybe makes it a little bit easier...But all the same, no matter how great it is, it will NEVER EVER bee the same.

Nowhere else will I be able to feel perfectly at home simply because i heard a papre band in the distance. Or be teased to death because i said "mata bah". Or hear the phrase "from Asian's to Anandian's...I'm so proud of my baby" :P. Or be accused of not being Srilankan (The official who certified my birth certificate clearly didn't realize what I would be like). Or inform Thomain's the Royalists are more gentlemanly :P. Or understand that Burger King doesn't refer to the massive American fast food chain.

I will miss home no matter what. I'll miss the heat, the Tuk-Tuk's, The shock of realizing not everyone lives in Colombo like me and some people actually travel more that 15 mins to get to places (Imagine!). I'll miss my friends.

Yes the crazy wacky loony lot that I put up with. Those who were still left behind after a good proportion of the other went. Who reminisced, and took pictures and tagged people who weren't even there just to evoke a few memories for them.

And the ones who will be left when the little of us who are left go. I know you'll miss me and my high0pitched excitement, my disgust with buses, my lack of road direction, my "spoilt brat ways", my never ending drama.

“Promise me you'll never forget me because if I thought you would I'd never leave.”

I love you all. So much.

The End

It's Graduation Day. After spending your entire lives in school you finally walk up, smile for that picture and leave. and its over.

You make plans for the summer. You party and cry and laugh. and the watch as the little parts that you can hold on to come to an end. And the the ends looms. But how dyou know when its the end?


Is the end when you say goodbye to those friends you really cant live without? Is the end when you party for the last time before you go? Or is the end when you step off that plane in to new place, a new world that has no idea who you are and what you want?

And that's jut one phase in your life. the Scenario could be your fist job. Uni or anything.

And what happens when one day you realize its actually over. Done and finished. How dyou know if you are ready to face what comes next?

And what comes next? New friends? Dreams?

Then things start changing...you make mistakes and you meet people. Your dreams and priorities change. You discover parts of you that you never knoew existed and discover things you never knew about. And you smile. You look to the future both scared and hopeful. Both worried and excited and both ready and afraid.

But sometimes all it takes is something small to remind you. Glancing through a yearbook. An old picture or a sudden phone call. or maybe even a strangers smile. And you remember the times past and the things you learned.

So go ahead. Break all those barriers. and cross those lines. Coz when it comes to the end you'll wish you had.

:)

No more Happily Ever After

One of my closest friends once remarked “Don’t ever believe in fairytales….create your own”.

The sentiment and the truth behind it is amazing. All our lives we spend searching for the prince with the glass slipper that fits, or hoping that the next kiss we receive will choke up the piece of poison apple that we have swallowed.

Fairytales is what helps us believe, and keep believing, and keep dreaming. We hold on to these myths and legends and stories hoping that someday we will be that perfect princess who will ride off into the sunset with her Prince Charming and live happily ever after.

But you know what? Our lives aren’t happening “once upon a time” like fairytales they are happening right now. In fairytales the prince will come and save you, in real life it is not so certain. I wish this knowledge would help us to stop believe and stop dreaming, but somehow it seems as though we can never do so. As we get older the fairytales evolve to greater heights where we dream of that perfect person who will whisk us away in their arms where we will never have to know heartbreak and pain ever again.

Bullshit.

As cynical as this sounds it’s about time the world woke up. The fairytales we heard as children are stories. We need to stop waiting for our story to come along and start creating our own stories. We need to learn from our pain and understand that the pain is what helps us to keep going. We keep searching for the “one” because we know how amazing it is going to feel when we can finally not feel any more pain. As the saying goes “Why do I keep hitting myself on the head with the hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop”

So embrace the pain. It is what will help you too keep searching, to keep hoping and to keep dreaming. Dream your own dreams, not somebody else’s, find your own shoe and search for YOUR prince charming not Cinderella’s.

This goes for guys too. Stop hoping that if you are like Prince Eric she will love you forever and ever. He is Ariel’s prince and the girl who will be yours doesn’t want him. She wants you.

And while you wait hold on to what Meredith Grey once said, “Sometimes it is not so important that it is happily ever after, just that it is happy right now”
And who knows? Someday it could be “happy right now” forever.

Memories

A single red rose in a crystal vase. Her finger trailed over the intricate pattern embossed on the vase, when it attacked again- the sharp stabbing pain that caused her throat to constricted and tears to fill her eye’s, blinding her momentarily.

Carefully she took a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to flow through her, to re-inspire calm. Before she had completely achieved this, however, another memory assailed her, the remembrance taking her breath away yet again- so that the pain returned, sharper than before. The image in her head was a simple one, yet it had the power to push her from the borders of sanity to the wild depths of insanity. It was a picture of her standing on a beach- everything bathed in the golden light that a perfect sunset brings. But she wasn’t alone- he was there beside her, their hands intertwined and the warmth she felt radiating from him making her feel safer than she ever had in her life- as she stood close to him.

This time the tears overflowed and snaked their way down her cheeks, rivulets of salty water mixed with black mascara, until they fell onto the ground in tiny droplets. Unable to control herself, she collapsed onto the sofa and buried her head in her hands, and sobbed until she could also most physically feel her heart breaking in two.

Memories. That is all she would she would ever have, for the rest of her life it would be nothing but that. She drew in a sharp breath and then sat up, the tears stopping as suddenly as they had begun.

“Stop it” she hissed under her breath. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and indulging in this self-pity! This marriage may not be the fairytale dream you have spent your life imagining- but it is the best opportunity you will ever get. He doesn’t need you, he barley even wanted you. You were just another girl in a long line of those past and those to some. So get up and start getting on with your life!”

Somehow these words, as cynical and harsh as they were helped her to regain the iron-clad control she kept on her emotions, before she lost complete control. Calmer, a wry smile crossed her lips as a picture of herself about 6 months ago floated into the swirling tho0ughts of her mind. She had been so innocent, so naïve.

Another memory surfaced this one from when her world had been covered in a rosy- if fake- glow. She remembered dangling one arm over the edge of the bed as she watched him dress a fond smile on her face.

“You’re coming tonight?” she asked her eye’s hopeful, this light dimming slightly at the tense expression that closed his face at this point.

“I’m sorry darling but you know how the wife is. She smells a rat that is it for me! I was hard enough getting away now”

She would sigh, disappointment flooding her and leaving her feeling empty and used. It was after almost five months of being with him, five month of stolen hours in expensive hotels, five months of waiting that’s she finally worked up the courage to ask him about the future.

“When are you going to tell your wife? About us I mean?” she had asked, and being the child she had been mollified with the reply of “soon sweetheart, soon”. Looking back she realized he would have never done it, the whole situation was too comfortable for him to even consider rocking the boat.

His famous tag-line was, “We must make as many memories together as we can today, for who knows what tomorrow may has in store”. She almost felt like laughing bitterly as she remembered how romantic and impulsive she has felt- whenever he has said that. Like the world was open to them for anything.

At this point she rose from the sofa and moved to the large mirror hung on the opposite side of the room. Slowly she began to repair the damage done to her mascara her mind still tracing the torturous journey of six months pat. It had taken her almost a year to realize the hopelessness of her situation. Sure, they had their memories- sunsets on the beach; trips to Paris, Rome, Tokyo for whatever time he could pass of as a ‘business trip’ to his wife; wandering into art galleries and attempting to re-create the work of famous artists…

She also remembered the night she left him, the angry words that were flung back and forth, the hurtful comments and barbed insults. Finally in desperation he had grabbed her by the shoulders, gazed into her eyes and asked, his voice almost sincere,

“But what about all the memories we have together? Huh? You can’t just forget about all of that!”

For an instant her resolve faltered but then she drew on her inner reserve if strength and gently freed herself.

“Yes we do have some wonderful memories. But that is all we will ever have, memories. You can keep the memories darling- I want something more out of my life!” and she had walked out, not even looking over her shoulder.

Now she gazed at her reflection and then looked away. It was futile trying to make sense of it. There was no point. Slowly she adjusted the veil, smoothed out her while dress and gathered up the bouquet of flowers. Time to get married.

writers block....pls help!!

this ones for tavish especially! :)

I'm working on a short story called "paper roses" and i have run into a massive writers block. so I'm hoping i can get some help...any ideas, comments or criticisms is welcome. although remember this is still a draft...:) so go ahead!

{It’s been years since I even thought about my past. I suppose I have become so good at blocking it out that it has now become a second nature to me. There was a time when every time I saw a newspaper ad about auditions for some commercial or noticed a crowd of young girls gazing enviously at a picture of latest actress their hushed hopes clear, my heart would jump to my throat and I would be assailed by a flood of memories that would threaten to unhinge me. But now these things affect me no less than someone without all my baggage. Someone without all this shit to carry around.
My mother. Man did she come with her share of hang ups and baggage. As a young girl growing up your mother is in any case an alien from god-knows-where and then you add all the crap that comes with this mother of mine...yeah it’s not good. But maybe I should start at the beginning.

I grew up in a grimy 2 bed roomed apartment with 2 younger siblings and a mother who struggled to make ends meet. My mother was a woman with a belly-full of anger at the world. She had left home at the age of 17 to try and become a model. Her parents refused to support her and she spent the first four years listing to numerous people tell her that her look was too similar to what everybody else had, it wasn’t edgy enough, that she wasn’t special enough. Then she tried sleeping her way through to the top like so many other girls before her and this left her with nothing more than 3 illegitimate children and a reputation that left much to be desired. And all this before 25.

She never loved me. Even now as I look back on my turbulent childhood I remember things that I don’t think I will ever forget. How she would leave me with a long list of chores before she went out and my sister and brother were told nothing. How she bought them little gifts constantly and tells me that we couldn’t afford it whenever I asked for something. All these little things, the harsh looks, her lack of love that she displayed towards me, kept gnawing away at me until I was forced to develop a sharp exterior in order to survive. Until I discovered my way out of that toxic household when I was 17.

I knew I was an attractive girl. I had my fair share of whistles follow me as I walked down a road when I reached adolescence. My mother once in her rare fits of telling me about her past told me that all my looks had come from my father. Who he was and where I could find him was information that was bluntly denied to me. I used to spend hours in front of the mirror searching for him in the arch of my eye or the dimple’s of my smile. Anyway back to that crisp summer day that changed my life forever. It was at the local mall when I went to attend one of those competitions for models that a popular local magazine was holding. After much cajoling and pushing I agreed and joined the line of other young hopeful girls who would step into a room, be asked a few questions, had a picture taken and then go back home to wait for the phone call which could make or break them.

It was a long wait and it was almost two hours later when I finally was called in by a glamorous looking brunette with long red-lacquered nails, in a form-fitting suit that simply screamed designer label. I stepped into the brightly lit room and faced the three people who smiled at me with practiced smiles. One was the brunette who had ushered me in, the second was a scruffily dressed man- obviously the photographer but it was the third man who caught my eye. He was extremely good-looking, with a well-polished business man’s air about him even in his relatively casual outfit of blue jeans and white shirt. But that wasn’t what caught my eye. There was something intensely familiar about him. Like I knew his face, as well as I knew my own.

After a moment of silence the brunette spoke in a clear self-assured voice.

“Hi there. What’s your name?”

I smiled cheekily,

“Jasmine,” I replied “what’s yours?”

This earned me some laughter which I took as a good sign. The brunette then introduced herself and the two men to me. Her name was Rose and she held some important sounding post in a publishing company which was sponsoring the competition. The scruffily dressed man was a photographer named Joe and the third guy was named Jeff, and he was the president of the top model agency in the city. Ice. This new information about him intrigued me further and the jagged pieces of the part of me that seemed to be missing began to creep slowly towards each other.

To cut a long story short I won the competition. What I had won was to be the cover girl of two of the magazines owned by the sponsoring publishing company; a two year contract with the Ice model agency and was now the new “face” of some cosmetics brand. My mother was less-than-thrilled about the win and had in fact called up the agency to inform them that I would not accept the victory. But after a long conversation in her room she consented with a resigned air as though she had no choice but to do so. She flatly refused to tell what, or who, had changed her mind.

Almost two weeks after “the” phone call I woke up early on a Saturday to attend my first photo shoot. I entered the studio 10 minutes before my scheduled time and was greeted by Rose. She let me to a spacious lounge-like room and told me to wait there for a few minutes. Now I have never really been one to listen so almost instantly after she left I exited the room and went down the corridor.

“I really don’t understand, shouldn’t you just tell her?”

The voices came from behind a slightly ajar door. I slunk closer to peer and listen. What I saw was an office-like room and Rose and Jeff stood facing each other. My heart jumped and I lent in to hear better.

“Rose you don’t understand” Jeff was now saying. “It’s not that easy it’s really complicated”

“You’re the girl’s father Jeff! Don’t you think she has a right to know?” (I need hardly add that my throat constricted at this point) “You’ve always told me how much you regret respecting her mother’s wishes? Or was that all just talk?’

“No of course not!” he answered, “It’s just do you think she’ll understand? Most likely she’ll hate me for abandoning her!”

“I think you’ve misjudged her, I think she deserves to know”

At this point}

*BANG* I'm stuck! non idea what should happen next, what she should do. although just keep in mind that i want Jasmine to be self-willed and stubborn but with a clear sense of direction and purpose. thanks a bunch guys! :)

of cricket matches and fun...

Yeah so I know I know I haven’t updated the blog in while pretty much coz my life has been fairly crazy for a while now with one thing or another coming up!

OH! I went for my very first cricket match on Tuesday! Yes and I had a brilliant time. Well it was quite an experience I must say, in more ways than one. Well so I pulled out my team t-shirt which I haven’t worn since the world cup last year and set off for the Premadasa Stadium. And for those who know me yes I was so excited than I was acting like an electrocuted cat the whole way there. Sorry Viran I know having me in the car and trying to find your way to the stadium at the same time was quite a task. Well anyway we got there without much of an incident and then the task of getting in EW EW EW EW!!! There were like a billion people mashed up against us and it was SO gross AND the fact that i have NEVER been groped so much ever! sick! Yes I am well aware I sound like a spoilt brat but still! *shudder*.

Yep so after we finally got in and the match started wow! The atmosphere was amazing! There were people all over and you could almost taste the excitement in the air. Yeah and we did lose but the match was so close that it got all the more exciting towards the end. I had a blast with my friends…we were screaming and jumping and I seriously hadn’t had that much fun in a long time. It was fabulous. I now have the Sri Lankan flag I bought there hung in my room. Yeah it was brilliant although I was really upset that Sanga didn’t play, but then Dhoni more than made up for that. *sigh* oh yeah I also had to go scream “GO DHONI” at the top of m lungs earning me a few glares from the Sri Lankan supporters near us. Oops :)

Well I must update this more often. I actually wanted to leave a rant about Valentine’s Day but decide not too. So if you are celebrating it whether it’s with your friends or significant other have fun. I’m just going to chill and send texts to my friends, the people I really do love through thick and thin. See y’all in the next post which won’t be so delayed. Ciao!

25 things most people dont know about me

1. I HATE orchids. i know they are exotic and expensive and all that shot but fir some reason they seriously freak me out!

2. I love 'Hannah Montana'...yes the lame disney show!

3. I find jealousy in a guy rather sweet. the kind where if you talk to someone else for too long he comes over to hold your hand or something just to make a point.

4. i have this dream of saving a life someday.

5. I never ever wore braces. nor will i ever need to. my dead-straight pearly whites are 100% natural!

6. My biggest fear is losing my friends...this also kinda corresponds to number 12.

7. I never say I love you unless i really mean it. to my friends, boyfriend watever

8. I fully believe in destiny and karma.

9. Cats creep me out....big time!

10. in my book...it is possible to be too perfect

11. I text people just bcoz....all the time...its my way of saying i love you.

12. I'm a very insecure person. I constantly worry that im not pretty/smart/funny enough, that no-one cares about me and that no-one really wants me around and i'm just a tag-along. It's stupid but i do it.

13. The minute i turn 18 i'm getting my nose pierced

14. I eat french-fries and ice-cream...together.

15. The nickname "cupcake" freaks me out

16. Another of my dreams is to direct and earth-moving life-changing documentary.

17. I'm a city girl. Suburbia bores me...cities thrill me!

18. I believe in soul mates. there is one perfect person out there for everyone. you just gotta have faith.

19. I want to get married by the ocean...at sunset.

20. Marriage scares me....being married that it.

21. I can never forgive a cheater.

22. I always wish i was born in the '50's or '60's

23. I take time to love and more to recover

24. I'm deathly afraid of death by suffocation

25. This took less time than I thought it would. there's a lot that people don't know about me.