Another Old Incomplete Post.

It’s not even mid December yet and I’m already getting in to the Roy-Tho mood!! With the Roy-Tho looking for sponsors, guess I got involved sooner I suppose. For some reason or the other you just can’t beat this feeling. I guess, like most that attended either school, I too lead a sorry life and gets excited over a “bloody cricket match” played between two schools!!! Fools watching fools in flannels. Those of you, who don’t understand, don’t even try. We are just retarded. It’s as simple as that.

I’m not going to write about some big match that happened long time ago or about a scintillating inning played by some fool. The year was 1996. My last year in college. Initial pledge was to start studing for A’ Levels from the first of Jan and then take a break during March and start again after the Mustangs Trophy. My plan went as far as my plan. Cricket World Cup happened, Roy-Tho was played, rugby season came a long. You wouldn’t believe the events you have to attend in you final year at college!!! Thank god some smart blighter decided to sabotage the Electricity Board and the exam was postponed by a month. First instance I started believing in God.

Anyway as I started, the year was 1996. At Tuesdays special assembly, Warden W.M.N De Alwis appointed the cricket captain as a college prefect and issued a death warrant against all who would be breaking the law in the next couple of days. The threat was remembered till around 10.00am. Approximately till 5 minutes after assembly was over. Come Wednesday morning a small crowd of around 120 creatures clad in different shades of blue and black meet on top of Orbanside Street Dehiwala. Trying hard to look as inconspicuous as possible. However war paint made us stand out like…….

We wait a good 45 minutes for our ride. A C.T.B half bus!!! Don’t even ask how we got a C.T.B bus to go trucking. Somebody can still go to jail for that!! How 50 teenage boys, 6 members of a papare band, a driver and a conductor fitted in to a 45 seat mini bus still don’t fail to amaze me!!

So we make our way in to Colombo and girls schools. First stop, Bishops College. Of course. This school always made me feel privileged. The only girls’ school in Colombo a boy was allowed to just walk in to, as long as he had either blue, gold or black war paint on him. Structured classrooms, obliging teachers and generous students. That’s like, a hat collecting Thomians wet dream!! Except for one social studies master who didn’t know the secan but was soon taught, everything was a rewarding experience. Your truily and Amila, the opening fast bowler the next day, takes up the challenge of conducting the year 11 history lesion as the teacher was not available. History always fascinated me!!

We exit as peacefully was we entered, passing the Double-Decker bus. Ah, that bus. I am yet to come across a Thomian who has not given thanks and prays to that bus. I love that bus. Next stop St. Bridgets Convent. I remember SBC now with more affection than then. High gates, higher walls (with spikes, what purpose they serve at such an altitude one fails to comprehend) and young security guards. One girls school which didn’t believe in hiring sweet retired old men. All of us generally charge the gate when we sense hostility. In the cheos that follows, a handful will penetrate the forward defense lines of any security measurement. Somehow the gates withstood the force of the blue army. Yours truly and the now infamous Malaka Silva climb the penitentiary like wall. Hurray! Penetration successful. Now we will attack from both sides. Unfortunately the wiseasses on the other side decide the effort was not worthwhile. Now we were prisoners of war. Shit. I fail to remember how but we somehow get on top of the 12 feet high wall. Jumping off it to the tar pavement is another story all together. To add to the agony Malakas’ t-shirt gets caught on one of the spikes. He yells at me to let go. I tell him that I’m not holding on. He threatens to jump. I ask him to fuck off. The next sight haunts me to this day. Malaka bare bodied running to the mercy of the bus while his t-shirt hangs on one of the wall spikes at SBC!!!

We go all the way down to the beach just to get in to Methodist College. Here I end up taking an English class but gets shooed away by the teacher who arrives late. I exit the class by writing down Umeshs’ home number for those who want private tuition. Sadly that never got us anywhere. The most chaotic was HFC Bambalapitiya. It was the mid day break. And when a horde of boys invade a girls school at a time like that, you wouldn’t believe the amount of Chinese rolls one gets to eat!! The most outrageous moment was when Sister Maxine (who’s name we got to know later) pointing to the gate and asking us to “Get out” and Nishantha “Willa” Wickramasinghe taking her hand and kissing it!!! I could have died laughing. Good thing we turned heel and ran or else I would be still at HFC laughing.

Come 1.30pm we end up at Ladies College. Another girl’s school I love in Colombo. Whoever who said that walls were built to be jumped over, built that wall. A Nissan Hilux with the most infamous of the Chikera boys in it enter the school. If he knew the ordeal he had to face, he wouldn’t have mooned Ladies College with his rugby jersey on!!..............................

From Six Months Ago

In an attempt to be more frequent on kottu, I have decided to post all my old posts which I never got down to posting. So here's one more.

No cable still and I’m watching a Tamil film advert on TV. Hostage situation. The hero comes in a Mahindra jeep. I wait to for an ugly looking fuck with a musto to get out and start shooting. The ugly fuck does turn up; he actually rolls from under the vehicle. In my sorta sedated state I’m mildly surprised. I go get myself some chocolate biscuits, iced milk and a banana. That’s a meal fit for a king if you ask me. The state of sedation has lasted for almost three weeks now and doesn’t seem to be caving in any time soon.

Guess life on a life support system would feel this way. Two blimps on the radar would have to be the NTB quiz and Anils concert. Come to think of it felt sedated after one fateful night at Clancys. Got dragged in there would be more appropriate for the record. It’s a Wildfire night. I’m like, oh hell, might as well enjoy the ride since I’m on the trip already. Wildfire at Clancys’ still brings a bit of nostalgia and I haven’t heard WF in awhile. I survive through Shakira singing “pelvic bones don’t break” (or some shit like that) yet again. After a couple of rounds of Chivas mixed in with the occasional shooter, my ears are toned for Wildfire. The guys walk up on stage and I notice a couple of new faces. I’m like no big shit. They might sound better. It actually took till the chorus of “Hotel California” to find out that I’m not drunk enough. Urgh!!!! WTF????? If ever a boy band got drunk and tried to butt fuck each other and in the process sang “Hotel California”, I would assume they would sound something like this. This shit was not even worth getting yourself hammered so you’re put out of your misery. Seeing that the majority on the almost empty dance floor was from the Indian contingent seated next to our table made me feel a little better. They screaming their lungs off to “Summer of 69” made me feel even better. I still don’t know the words. I shit you not. We got up to go when the band started to play “one for the ladies”. Six years ago if you told me you heard WF play “Beautiful” I would have told you to go boil your head. Alas the day came WF played “Beautiful”. James Blunt style. Listening to WF now is like having a kink for getting pissed on. Nuff said.

NTB quiz was a blast. Thumbs up for an excellent event organized. Good questions, better ushers, free booze and walk next door to Onyx for Anils’ concert. Only in Sri Lanka.

Oh yeah, meet Mendez. Our business development help form El Salvador. Till now all I knew about El Salvador was that it meant “The Savior” and some of the greatest chicks in Central and South America came from there. I mean these are “magnificento” chicks! The promotional dames defy God. The distance between belly button and crotch makes me feel the belly button is somewhere around the rib cage. How low can a hipster get? God works in mysterious ways. I like.

From Six Months Ago....

In an attempt to be more frequent on kottu, I have decided to post all my old posts which I never got down to posting. So here's one more.

No cable still and I’m watching a Tamil film advert on TV. Hostage situation. The hero comes in a Mahindra jeep. I wait to for an ugly looking fuck with a musto to get out and start shooting. The ugly fuck does turn up; he actually rolls from under the vehicle. In my sorta sedated state I’m mildly surprised. I go get myself some chocolate biscuits, iced milk and a banana. That’s a meal fit for a king if you ask me. The state of sedation has lasted for almost three weeks now and doesn’t seem to be caving in any time soon.

Guess life on a life support system would feel this way. Two blimps on the radar would have to be the NTB quiz and Anils concert. Come to think of it felt sedated after one fateful night at Clancys. Got dragged in there would be more appropriate for the record. It’s a Wildfire night. I’m like, oh hell, might as well enjoy the ride since I’m on the trip already. Wildfire at Clancys’ still brings a bit of nostalgia and I haven’t heard WF in awhile. I survive through Shakira singing “pelvic bones don’t break” (or some shit like that) yet again. After a couple of rounds of Chivas mixed in with the occasional shooter, my ears are toned for Wildfire. The guys walk up on stage and I notice a couple of new faces. I’m like no big shit. They might sound better. It actually took till the chorus of “Hotel California” to find out that I’m not drunk enough. Urgh!!!! WTF????? If ever a boy band got drunk and tried to butt fuck each other and in the process sang “Hotel California”, I would assume they would sound something like this. This shit was not even worth getting yourself hammered so you’re put out of your misery. Seeing that the majority on the almost empty dance floor was from the Indian contingent seated next to our table made me feel a little better. They screaming their lungs off to “Summer of 69” made me feel even better. I still don’t know the words. I shit you not. We got up to go when the band started to play “one for the ladies”. Six years ago if you told me you heard WF play “Beautiful” I would have told you to go boil your head. Alas the day came WF played “Beautiful”. James Blunt style. Listening to WF now is like having a kink for getting pissed on. Nuff said.

NTB quiz was a blast. Thumbs up for an excellent event organized. Good questions, better ushers, free booze and walk next door to Onyx for Anils’ concert. Only in Sri Lanka.

Oh yeah, meet Mendez. Our business development help form El Salvador. Till now all I knew about El Salvador was that it meant “The Savior” and some of the greatest chicks in Central and South America came from there. I mean these are “magnificento” chicks! The promotional dames defy God. The distance between belly button and crotch makes me feel the belly button is somewhere around the rib cage. How low can a hipster get? God works in mysterious ways. I like.

Independence.

I know this is a little late but who cares.

Independence Day don’t mean jack to me. I see the same circus every year. Only the clown changes once in a while. The worst part is I don’t even know how or what to feel. Were we really oppressed by the British? If so, what have to show after independence? And how does public masturbation of political egos, in front of Galle Face fit in to all this? On the other hand I had a colleague tell me how impressive the tanks were. Maybe Independence Day is for the likes of them. But then, wouldn’t a peep show have been cheaper?

My Independence Day started off with being asked to fuck off by two members of two political convoys who cut into the path of my humble three-wheeler guy. If entire roads’ being blocked is not bad enough, you have political man-whores asking you to bugger off. Guess it’s better than getting shot by them I suppose. I just don’t get it.

I come home to see the president bellowing his guts out on TV. If one didn’t understand the language, one would honestly think that he was mighty annoyed with the audience. After that the so-called Army band took over. I don’t get the patriotism signified by some really bad songs sung by wanna-be commercial band rejects. Even the uniforms were (I think) worn wrong. I’m quite there is no black t-shirt underneath the green jacket! If this was a PR stunt, somebody should loose his job.

Last Friday was the OBA AGM. Like many times before, I ended up at the OTSC (Old Thomians Swimming Club). Just that this time was a little different. I met a friend of mine I haven’t met since leaving college. He was two years my senior and we played football together. He played left wing for Boarding House and I played full-back for Stone House. I had no chance in hell against his speed and ability. He had joined the STF after college. Last month he had lost his left leg in a search operation in the east. I didn’t know what to say or do. My father was in the Navy for thirty odd years and the war finally hit home last Friday. What the fuck do you say to a guy whom you knew as an excellent footballer who had his leg amputated from shin down? It actually took a while for me to let it sink in and go up to him and talk. I dragged a chair next to him and started talking. We talked about the good old days, the matches we played, the chicks we stalked, and he told me about his one-year-old kid for almost one hour. I never asked him about his leg. I still want him to play football on the Mt. Lavinia beach on an early Saturday morning before running off hearing the breakfast bell. Fuck this war. Just fuck it.

Dhoom Machale

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2006 Ipod Style

2006 was an emotional and a physical rollercoaster. The worst and most played on my Ipod sums up the year in a way I guess. It’s got the good, the bad and the mombo ridiculouso. Any way this might be my last post for this year, so here’s wishing all you guys a great 2007.

“Jesus Christ! How did that get in there?!!” List

1. I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing – Aerosmith (Somehow minus Liv Tylor this song just doesn’t sound the same)
2. Colour Blind – Darius (Let alone not knowing how it got there, I don’t even know how to pronounce the guys name)
3. Two Steps Behind – Def Leppard (Met an ex. Nuff said)
4. Landslide – Dixie Chicks (Never lend your pod to anyone. Especially a chick)
5. Superman – Five for fighting (I didn’t mind this until I saw a guy in a tight t-shirt sing this at Sopranos)
6. Beautiful – Christiana Aguilera (I find Aguilera kinky in the video)
7. My Sacrifice – Creed (Guilty as charged)
8. Moonlightening – Leo Sayer (Download favor for a friend)
9. It’s My Life – Bon Jovi (Disgraceful. I liked a chick who liked this song. Utterly disgraceful)
10. Unwritten – Natasha Bedingfield ( I won’t even try explaining)

“Most Played in 2006” List

10. Where Have All The Good People Gone – Sam Roberts
9. All For You – Blues Traveler feat. Sister Hazel
8. Give Me Novocain – Greenday
7. Rape Me – Nirvana
6. At My Most Beautiful – REM
5. Learning to Fly – Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
4. I Hate Everything About You – Ugly Kid Joe
3. Can’t Let It Go – Goo Goo Dolls
2. Hang on Sloopy – Yardbirds
1. I’m Shipping up to Boston – Dropkick Murphys

An Incomplete Post…..

This is something I wrote sometime ago but failed to complete. Now I just can’t be bothered.

Ok, that’s it. I attended my eighth marriage function within the last two months and I’m burping in my sleep. The cost of the shirts I had to buy would amount to the GDP of a small country.

Engagements are charming affairs, I must say. Especially when the to-be groom goes down on one knee and proposes to his dearly beloved after the wedding halls have been booked and the gust lists finalized. Fascinating.

I like weddings because you can drink like Nicolas Cage in “Leaving Las Vegas” and not get noticed. That is until the bridesmaid whom you have been eyeing since the engagement comes and tells you at the home-coming that she saw you drinking like Cage in “Leaving Las Vegas”.

Anyway, with great difficulty I have compiled a list of ten thing I love and hate about marriage functions during office time.

10 Things I love.

1. Make up – Starting from the 25 year old bride to her 80 year old grand ma thank the Egyptians everyday for inventing make up. Make up do really work. Take my word for it. Make up do get ugly people laid. Take my word for it.
2. Billa music – After O/L and A/L batch parties’ finish you get only weddings where you can get hammered and dance like a retard to Billa. A good billa session really puts me in a good mood.
3. Alcohol – In the old days finding out the bride was not a virgin would disgrace the family. Now running out of booze during the wedding is a disgrace on the family.
4. Brides’ maids – The only chicks who consciously makes an effort to look second best. Friendly as long as the best man is ugly as fuck or you don’t get noticed drinking like Nicolas Cage.
5. The Parents – Sweetest out of the lot. They inquire about my leg. I tell them the story. They ask me who’s looking after me. They tell me about the trouble they went to bring up their daughter. Her driving. Her social life. About the groom. And many more. This is also the first time I met them. Sweet.
6. Brightly light ballrooms – I love a grand ballroom and I hate candle lit weddings. Reminds me of the house of horrors we use to do for the college fair, only difference being I’m too old to pinch butt.
7. Meeting weird people – Part of a conversation is as follows.

Weird chappy : Hi machaan.

Me : Hey much.

Akward silence.

Me : So much, where do you work?

Weird chappy : I work for “Soththiys” (or some weird ass name like that).

Me : So what does he do?

Weird chappy : Soththiys is an advertising company.

Me : Right. So who are your clients.

Weird chappy : I did the Siddalepa campaign in Mogadishu (or some weird ass campaign that sounded similar).

Me : Interesting.

Weird chappy : So machaan, did your check the chicks out?

Me : eeerr….ummm….yeah.

Weird chappy : Think we could get laid tonight?

Me : Think – Not when you smell like an asshole with dentures. Say – Of course dude.

Weird chappy : So take your pick.

Me : Huh?

Weird chappy : Go on pick your girl.

Me : You go first.

Weird chappy : That one in the sky blue saree.

Me : Think – Hey that’s my cousin. Think again – I love these social situations. Say – Hey that’s a hot chick. Wanna bet your car on who she’ll leave with?

(I don’t even own a unicycle)

Weird chappy : See that you’re a betting man. Your on.

We have very different approaches. He starts chatting up a chick. I text my cousin saying I’m tired and ask her for a lift home. God just doesn’t like some people.

8.

10 Things I hate

1. Wedding bands – I hate wedding bands. Most of them sound like Paul Simon stuck inside a vending machine. Trying to get out of course. Baring a few who can actually carry off a good billa session.

2. Toasts – More often than not toasts make me cringe. Last toast I heard gave me the life story of both bride and groom. How the bride attended Ladies college and was the captain of the skipping team. I think. She had obtained her bachelors from either Kings, Queens or Jacks college in UK. How she had made friends with Jacky from USA, Jonny from Scotland and Chappy from Soththiys….….aaaaaahg!!!!

3. Galadhari Hotel – The chandeliers gives me a headache.

4. Aunties who come and sit next to you when uncle is dancing with a bridesmaid – I don’t have anything else other than work, marital status (invariably comes up) and leg to make conversation with them. Nine times out of ten I change seats when they go looking for their divorcée daughter/neice/friend (yuck!) to make introductions.