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Ginger biscuits

by Aditha Dissanayake

Nimmi noticed him because of his faded, casual appearance. He wore a T-shirt, which had seen many days of washing - it was hard to decide what the original colour would have been, a pair of dark blue shorts and black sneakers. Two small gold rimmed spectacles came sliding down his nose. He was immensely tall and immensely thin. He badly needed a shave. It was obvious that necessity had made him come to the supermarket this Saturday afternoon, and that he was eager to finish the shopping, as fast as possible.

He waited with his hands in his pockets as the girl entered the code numbers of the goods in his cart, on to her machine. She dipped her hand into the cart, took out shampoos, toothpaste, a bottle of eu de cologne, and kept them on the counter beside her.

At first Nimmi stared at the contents absent mindedly, as she waited in her own queue till the over-weight lady ahead of her settled the bill. Then it dawned on her that the goods the young man had purchased were awfully similar to what she herself had placed in her cart.

She stared at the tube of hair removing cream and the box of perfumed tissues and wondered what he would be doing with them. Were they for a young sister at home? Had his girl friend asked him to buy them for her?

None of the questions seem to fit him. He didn't look like the kind of son who did the weekend marketing for the family, for he stood at the counter, staring out into the street waiting for the girl to tell him how much he had to pay, with an absent minded far away look in his eyes. Because he looked like a computer wizard one saw on science fiction movies, Nimmi was sure he was thinking about the internet or about a website or the Java script or about what ever else that went with computers.

She watched the girl take out three packets of ginger biscuits. She remembered she too had brought three packets of the same brand. Nimmi glanced at her cart to see if they were there, then gaped in surprise. She was standing behind someone else's cart. The goods in it were not hers. A bottle of aftershave, a packet of razor blades, two tubs of ice-cream, numerous packets of savoured nuts. Nimmi stared in bewilderment. Meanwhile, she saw the girl take out two birthday cards from his cart. They were hers. The carts had got switched. He had Nimmi's cart and Nimmi had his.

Nimmi shook him gently by the arm and brought him back to the present. "I am sorry, our carts have got mixed up. You are standing behind my cart". She told him raising her head to look up at him. It took him sometime to realize what she was saying. Then he stared at the contents in the cart. He took the bottle of shampoo into his hands.

"Hey yes. I don't use these. All these are girl's stuff. Where is my cart?" He looked around him in bewilderment. Nimmi pushed his cart towards him. The girl had finished entering the goods into the machine. Nimmi paid her bill and left. She lived in her Aunt's annex behind Anula Vidyalaya in Nugegoda. She taught Japanese to the children of an International school nearby.

Her parents lived in Kandy. It had been over an year now since she had moved to Colombo and become independent. She prepared her own meals, enjoyed her work at the school and did her marketing every Saturday afternoon, at the nearby supermarket.

Nimmi walked with her bags along the gravel road. She looked forward to having a cup of tea with her Aunt when she got home. She stepped aside when she heard the sound of a car behind her. A small green coloured Maruti sped past her. Braked. Reversed. And stopped in front of her.

The young man at the supermarket stared at her through his golden coloured spectacles. "Can I give you a lift?" he asked her in a matter of fact voice. He sounded so serious he reminded her of a news reader on TV. From where she stood she could see the gates of her Aunt's house. Nimmi pointed her finger towards the white gates and said "I live over there.

Its not far. Thank you". He shrugged his shoulders as if to say "as you please", changed gears and sped away. Across a cup of tea, Nimmi told her Aunt about the encounter at the supermarket. Her Aunt knew the young man slightly. He was the new lodger at No.30, down the street. Nimmi's aunt knew Kusuma, the owner of No 30. He had told her that his name is Champika Yatawatta, that he comes from an aristocratic family in Matale, that he had studied at Cambridge and that now he worked for a computer firm in Bambalapitiya.

According to her aunt, when it came to computers he was a wizard and like all wizards when it came to food and clothes he was hopelessly absent minded. Nimmi listened in silence to her Aunt's monologue. Then she began to think about the two days of leisure ahead of her. She planned to spend her time reading the Sunday papers and watching TV.

On Tuesday Nimmi overslept. She was half an hour late when she stepped into the road. Usually she walked to school, but today she began to wish she could get into a taxi. The usual commuters on the road, mostly schoolchildren in white, were not there today. The pavement was filled with people hurrying to their offices, with brief cases, lunch packets and umbrellas in their hands.

She raised her sari with her left hand hoping the mud on the raod would not splash on to its edges and walked as fast as her dainty heels would allow her. She began to wish she had worn an old pair of flat shoes. Then suddenly a green Maruti came to a halt near her.

"Can I give you a lift?" he asked her in the same matter of fact way he had asked on Saturday.

Nimmi was glad to accept the offer. She got into the seat beside him and spoke only when he asked her for directions. When he parked the car in front of the school gates she simply said "Thank you" and walked off. He had gone on his way, and she had hurried to her classroom.

On Saturday, she was there once again at the supermarket, looking at the bottles of jam arranged neatly on the shelves. She stood staring at them, unable to decide which brand to buy. Wood-apple or mango? Pineapple or strawberry? Suddenly another cart bumped into hers.

Champika Yatawatta stood in front of her, looking down at her from his great height. He had a packet of ginger biscuits in his hand. He threw them it into her cart. "I believe you like them" he said as he pushed his cart past her towards the counter.

Nimmi had more things to buy. It took her a good ten minutes to emerge from the sliding doors, carrying her two bags in her hands. The car park was almost empty, except for the green Maruti. "What took you so long?" He asked her. If I knew you would be waiting I would have come sooner, Nimmi said to herself but did not voice her thoughts.

She simply stood there smiling at him with the sun in her eyes.

Will you marry me?

by Caryl Nugara

Every girl as she grows up expects to hear these words, "will you marry me?" In her collection of books she would probably have novels written by authors such as Barbara Cartland whose stories contain much about romance, candle-light and roses and the young man confessing his devotion to the one he loves.

Some of the world's famous classics such as Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, Margaret Mitchell's "Gone with the Wind" are creations of romance and complex relationship.

Count Vronsky was deeply in love with Anna, but it ends sadly by Anna taking her own life. Scarlet O'Hara a charming Southern girl with her magnolia - white skin and tilted green eyes had several admirers, but the dashing buccaneer Captain Butler kissed her delicate hand and made a proposal of marriage to her. That was truly a fascinating and unforgettable romance.

"Penmarric" by Susan Howatch, a love-story set against the sweeping background of Cornwall is a dramatic, tempestuous love affair between Janna Roslyn and Mark which ends in marriage.

Long before civilization, according to certain traditional customs a man brought dried skins of animals and honey to the woman he intended marrying.

Then years later he presented beaded chains or coins to adorn the girl he chose to be his wife. Could it be that the giving of flowers today is part of those lost traditions? In years gone by, if a South American Indian wished to marry he had to prove his courage in hunting to assure the girl's family that he could provide for her.

In far away Alpine villages the tradition of presenting to the girl an edelweiss (flower) he picked from the slopes of a rocky mountain is still carried out. Perhaps you'll be interested in these modern love stories I gleaned from the "Readers' Digest." Miss Markus was on a flight to Chicago when she saw her fiance coming towards her carrying a bouquet of roses. He knelt down and posed the question to her.

They married after that.

A graphics designer escorted his girl-friend to a red limousine and there were a dozen red roses and a bottle of champaign on the back seat. This led to love and marriage.

Two university students, Karen and Peter took part in a "Halloween" party. She dressed up as Cinderella and Peter as a prince. He carried a beautiful purple slipper with sparkling jewels on it, went up to Karen clad in an old pink satin dress and put the shoe on her foot.

It fitted her perfectly and she smilingly said, "I must be Cinderella." Peter answered, "Will you be my princess forever?" to which the answer was "Yes, I'll marry you." So the Cinderella story we read as children came true.

Just as in fairy tales, these affectionate words, "Will you marry me?" finally bring a couple in love to marry and live happily (or unhappily) ever after.

Graffiti 'writings on the walls'

Posters, banners, notices, hand-bills and even writings on parapet walls and other surfaces are freely used in Sri Lanka as well as in all other countries to convey various messages to the public or to any selected clientele to arrest the attention to various products or incidents of current importance in the country.

This activity comes to a peak specially during events of national importance such as the general elections which we went through recently. It is really interesting to reflect on these 'not so serious' forms of writing which have become a part and parcel of our lives.

Scratching, writings and drawings on various surfaces exposed to the public eye such as walls, rocks, desks and even in some toilets throughout the world can be described as graffiti, although this word has several connotations. Some of these are informative and historic such as the famous Sigiriya Graffiti while some others take an absolutely obscene form.

But all of these collectively convey some meaning and therefore they can be described as a primitive medium of communication which even the cave man made use of by making drawings and scratching on the walls of the caves in which they sought shelter from the rain and the sun.

In modern times most of these scratchings or graffiti are found very much on furniture and the walls of universities, schools, educational institutions and other places where the public gather and all of these exhibit the feelings, frustrations, failings and aspirations of specially the youth of the country.

Even though throughout the centuries a great effort has been made to preserve some of these well known graffiti such as the renowned Sigiriya Graffiti no serious effort whatsoever has been made by civilised man to preserve other forms of graffiti. As such some of these appear and disappear without much notice. Nevertheless they form an important component of the literature and communication of the country and they are also of much psychological significance.

Most of these graffiti which include scratching, short writings (usually in verse) and rough etchings on various surfaces are seen in our universities which are always patronised by the nation's most educated and the most gifted youth drawn from various strata of society spread throughout the country.

However, most of these graffiti, though interesting, go unnoticed by the society at large. But the fact remains that the thoughts, behaviours and life's philosophy of the educated youth of this country could be best understood through the medium of these writings and scribblings.

Even though these graffiti have a literary, psychological and cultural value it is quite surprising that no one has ever cared to make a serious study of them except of course describing them as the work of the idle minds of some frustrated elements in our society.

However, we cannot deny the fact that some do really appreciate some of these appealing 'writings on the walls.' If we care to classify these we would find that most of these writings, specially in our universities, are one the theme of love and many others are based on themes of mundane importance and many of them are written in blank verse in Sinhala and a very few are written in English, particularly in the schools.

These graffiti would surely form an interesting study for anyone interested in sociology and early literary forms and like everything else in the world the development of graffiti too has a long and chequered history. The forerunner to graffiti are the scribblings of various forms and during the very ancient times pre-historic man and the cave man scribbled lines and crude etchings on the walls of the caves and stones to express some of their emotional feelings like love, hate and sorrow.

However crude these scribblings were they are of much historical, cultural and sociological importance and they throw much light on the history and development of the human race and they provide us with a very good background for the study of the then social conditions. Even in modern times whenever some people get the chance to scribble or write on some surface exposed to the public eye they do not hesitate to do so.

Some of these scribblings such as one's name, address etc. are seen in public places such as universities and schools and even in buses and trains. At the same time some elders as well as the youth revel in etching obscene drawings in public places. Specially during election time and during big matches these writings on the walls appear throughout the country very often marring the otherwise beautiful landscape and the country has to spend a large sum of money to erase them off after these events.

No one can say for certain when this act of graffiti or writings on the walls began but there is no doubt that its origin dates back to the pre-historic times and long before man had developed the art of writing. So that next time you see any type of graffiti - be it obscene, literary or otherwise, try to understand the message it tries to convey. Do not imagine that a scribbling hand always shows an empty mind.

Plea for humanism

by Vincent de Silva

"True means true for mankind, true for the purposes and aims of human beings. There is no other truth than this; and if another truth existed it could never concern us, we could never know it, it would be meaningless," Alfred Adler.

Time has more than come for us to accept the fact that the gods are enigmatic, not certain and that human achievements cannot be sanctioned on a dogmatic basis.

Man cannot discover why he is the glory, jest and riddle of the world, but finding himself so he has to work out a mode of living. There is the need especially today, to have an attitude to one's experience in life and preferably an attitude that will allow life to be respected and enjoyed, and endured without too much bitterness when the time of enjoyment is past.

This in fact, is the oldest quest in the world and one that is at the core of Greek tragedy, of Buddhism and of much literature of nearly all religious writing other than that connected with dogmas. How is man to endure the inevitable suffering involved in living in the world of pain and death and how is he to enjoy to the full the opportunities of life and experience that he has?

Some men are capable of enjoying more than others while some have more than a fare share to endure, but the problems are the same, to some extent for everyone. It is a matter of coming to understand the potentialities and limitations of being human and then trying to live successfully within the framework permitted.

There is, of course, the need for some technique of detachment where loss and deprivation have to be faced and borne, not the complete detachment of Buddhism which, in order not to be hurt by death, rejects life itself, but at least a certain measure of detachment, an infusion of stoicism, so that the inevitabilities of pain, change and death can be met without unreal protests, without too much bitterness, without the final loss of human dignity.

These values could be, called 'rational' and 'liberal' and 'humanist.' These terms despite their immense ambiguities could be defined for practical purposes fairly easily.

By rational one could mean an acceptance of the value of human intellect, and of human moral achievement as against a rejection of them as worthless, and the notion of reason could have in it something of what we conventionally regard and respect as wisdom, and something of the popular idea of common sense.

By liberal would be meant basically the attitude of the mind that eschews dogmatism in principle recognizing the relativity of beliefs, and accepts tolerance as a civilized virtue in every circumstance where it is at all possible.

As for 'humanism' it is presumably the view that the greatest virtues are of human origin and evolution, and exist (or need exist) on no criterion other than that they have been widely accepted by civilized men.

Compassion, kindness, love seem to me to be the highest human goods. In judging another man these are always the qualities that count most. Whatever his other flaws, there will be good in a man who is kind and compassionate in his dealings with others.

These qualities, if dissociated from mere sentimentalism and given priority could certainly save the world at any time and in any crisis.

When fiction is most important

by Rohan Jayawardana

Truth is best discovered by the application of inferential logic upon the proven physical facts according to a scientific methodology, but certainly excluding the mere theories about reams of un-proven and obscure elements; and thereafter proceeding to arrive at conclusions which have characteristics of integrity, commonsense, durability against assailments, and a formidably universal appeal.

Truth must be comprehensible even at the mundane levels within their own simple communication methodologies because of its capacity to be viewed in the manner of a constructed edifice.

On the other hand, a great deal of the already accepted norms of the human society are based in so-called "truths" which are actually fictions, but accepted by society's educated elite in the times longago of un-sophisticated methods and of low rationale, and also without a shred of supportive scientific evidence.

For instance, there was the stubbornly and obdurately held view for several generations of life that the Earth was the center of the Universe, even after solid scientific proofs being available to the contrary, but conforming quite appropriately with the primitive human tendency for ego-centricity and all of the related expediencies! This primitivity of impulse, which has no connection with the intellect, abounds even today.

Naturally, this is a vain-glorious defiance of the inevitability of universal acceptance, plus a manifest absence of integrity, commonsense and of fairness in judgement that requires an abandonment of the self-interest.

In more recent times there has arisen an identical misadventure in the matter of whether the Human species evolved out of the primates (the Apes), without even a shred of the necessary connecting evidence among fossil discoveries that abound, and being absurdly founded by proponents only in superficial visual data and conjecture. Whither, these so-called sciences and the marvellous intellect?

Quite embarrassingly, despite the preaching of so-called "learned" ones about their ancestry among the monkeys in a manner suggesting it to be proven "fact," the absolutely sophisticated techniques of modern science, such as the DNA tests indeed are, have probed beneath the merely superficial layers and the outdated contentions, and are now conclusively proving Homo sapiens to be entirely unique and without other connection in the history of Biology! Perhaps the Apes ought to be relieved?

Nevertheless, the search for ape-like "connections" goes on, even after the Homo sapiens neanderthalensis has been excluded as an ancestor of the human species, and other accumulated data also proving the contrary to be true.

Therefore, if even within the physical sciences there is suspicious confusion of proven facts with the fictions, how does one deal with the Truth in the abstract realm of Philosophy? This is the floating space of meta-physical criteria, and with no evidential data for scientific scrutiny!

On the other hand, if one denies the existence of the "beyond physical" state, called the metaphysical and measurable only by three-dimensional criteria, one automatically also denies the entities called the Human Mind and the Light energies emanating from celestial phenomena!

The establishment of Truth and definitives always lies within the Mind, which in itself is an eternally metaphysical entity. Usually, the Mind of the vulnerable human person living within the mainstream seeks out personal criteria, which is a segment of its conditioning and reactivity for the purposes of establishing a personal Identity, the individual's psychological balance, and for the pursuit of ambition or career objectives.

At end, it will be found that these are in fact "the crutches" that take the average life through the formidable process of survival within organised human societies upon planet Earth, albeit not being the requirements or resources for survival within the challenging natural habitats!

In these constraining social circumstances, whenever the factors of Absolute Truth are posed in conflict with these lifelong "crutches," they are usually perceived as threats to individual or collective survival, and the reaction is inevitably aggressive.

The intellect, which is the naturally available evaluatory resource, is made redundant! The subconscious causes of reaction are of course, that the Absolute Truth immediately challenges the norms of Identity, of the personal balance, and the commitments made to the several fantasy-beliefs.

On the other hand, quiet reflection and comprehensive objectivity about the integrity, commonsense, durability and the formidability of Truth, even in the abstract realm of the Meta-physical, lead toward honesty and the necessity to have a Courage that rejects the fallacies and all of the historical un-truths.

How else could the plane of humanity become an ascendant one? Alternatively, the Absolute Truth, once achieved, may never be colour-washed or be made adaptable according to the requirements of advantage. It is remorselessly un-changing, un-assailable by cynical methodology, and shall finally prevail even though it be too late for the survival of the species, perhaps.

Consequently, the perception of Truth within the Mind is entirely dependent upon the individual capacity for objectivity, for incisive focus, and a special quality of Courage that even defies the massively popular criteria of societies and philosophies, the cherished beliefs, emotion-laden rituals, entrenched social prejudices and inequalities, and the other comfort-giving norms: to become even a completely solitary one possessed of spiritual enrichment, albeit temporarily, within the continuum of space-time until the clouds cease to obscure the intellect.

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