Denzil's Stories

A boy’s sky I was fascinated with the sky as a young boy. Growing up, it was my habit to stare at the sky above. How did the sky become so complex with so many stars in the night? It was a question a small boy could not answer. It perplexed me. I could count only to a certain number. A million was a concept I was yet to grasp. Seeing so many stars up in the sky was a mystery. Counting them was out of the question, although I thought I was good at arithmetics in school. The stars were dispersed in all sorts of patterns no kid could make sense. Some were big stars; some were small. Some were dim; some were bright. Then there was the mothership of them all, the moon, a huge object to a small boy. In my home village in Sri Lanka, we did not have electricity when p. There was no artificial lighting to pollute the night vision. The night sky was crystal clear, undisturbed by man-made lighting. Probably my eyesight was also ultra-clear back then. I wore glasses in my late teenage years, too m...

  What I love about  Dad A story of gratitude We had a massive family Christmas event in 2021, where all my kids, their partners and grandchildren got together, all eleven of them, with me making it a dozen. It was a great event, bringing together three generations of my family here in Australia. One of my kids presented this little mini-book, “What I love about Dad ”  It has sections for personalised messages on each of its 50 pages. I felt immensely grateful, turning the pages. Each page has a space for the child to write personalised words to their dad. I felt ecstatic reading them, and I want to share them here on my medium channel. Below are the 50 pages; my daughter’s handwritten words are in italics. I love your  personality. We always have the best time when we  relax  together. When I was little, I loved  to go to  events  with you. I’m impressed by your  networking skills . I love getting your advice on  my career. You hav...

Anna and Leo — Part II A story of a hasty exit, delusions, marriage brokers and a deadly hoax — Part II of II Read the  First Part of this story here  first. W hen Anna and Leo relocated from their exile, Leo was in his mid-forties, and Anna was in her late sixties. Hyperactive Leo single-handedly ran the farm in their new surroundings, doing hard labour work himself. My mother remained their financial backer. On her regular visits to our home, Anna continued to borrow money for their farming business on various ruses. It was a recurrent habit for Anna. My mother did not know how to say ‘no’ to her aunt. Visits to the new farm M eanwhile, being the eldest child in my family, I willingly took more responsibility to help run our home. I learnt to support my mother, who was struggling to manage our house, particularly in coping with demands from her mentally ill mother, who had been dumped on her and her young family. One of my tasks was visiting Anna’s and Leo’s new farm regular...