It was for my godmother’s wedding when I was three years old. The date was 27th December 1958. Aunty Juliet was my father’s first cousin. The wedding was in Alawwa. I travelled in a Morris Minor car with my parents, my grandmother and my uncle, my father’s elder brother. I sat on his lap during the ride. I was the page boy at my godmother’s wedding.
Last time you read a good book?
I am still reading it. It is The Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari. I read it every night before I go to bed.
The first time you did something illegal?
I raced with friends on my Lambretta scooter on the Galle Face on Colombo's main road. It was a double crime. Not only was it my speed, but I also did not have a riding license. I rode on the wrong side of the road for a few seconds. I was too stupidly young to realise the gravity of what I did. Foolish boy!
Last time you were mesmerised by a movie?
A few months ago. The movie was The Power of the Dog by Jane Campion, an Australian director. It is a Western, but devoid of violence: directing, acting and a storyline. Classic cinematography. I was so fascinated with the movie, I watched it twice. I could watch it again any time.
The first time you sang?
It was at a school concert when I was eight and in grade three. I was too close to the microphone, and the music teacher approached me and pushed me to the back, behind a row, saying I sounded bad. That was it for me. I did not take up singing after that. But I do enjoy listening to music all the time.
What was the last song you listened to?
Michael Jackson’s Rock With You. I am listening to it now on my Sonos system. It is a classic disco song from the seventies. Michael Jackson is probably the most talented singer who ever lived.
The first time you cooked?
I learned to make Rotis from my grandmother in her kitchen. I scraped coconut, mixed the flour with coconut water and salt and roasted it on a plate covered with a banana leaf from a woodfire under her supervision.
The last time you did something creative that wasn’t writing?
I photographed a wedding for a daughter of a friend of mine a weekend ago for their pre-wedding party and reception. I loved the creative part of capturing the moments of their happy event.
First stories you ever heard?
My grandmother’s stories. She narrated children’s stories at night against the backdrop of lamps. She had a limited number of stories, about four or five, that she repeated repeatedly. There were enchanting stories of a cunning fox, a crooked crow and a laundrywoman. Listening to her own brand of unique stories was entertaining. I fell asleep listening to her bedside stories.
The last story you wrote?
I wrote a short story yesterday about a trip to a Catholic shrine when I was sixteen. I wrote it in a hurry.
The first time you smoked?
It was during a school holiday trip with my friend Ajit and his siblings in the hill country. Our days were filled with freedom only afforded to carefree teenage boys looking out for the next adventure. We swam in reservoirs and fished. Ajit and I smoked in between, hiding from his brothers. We wiped our fingers on tea leaves to get rid of the tobacco smell.
The last time you smoked?
Smoking was a fashion fad among youngsters of my time. I lit cigarettes to impress others that I was a confident adult. By the time I turned eighteen, I was a smoking addict. This continued for a few short years. After I landed in Dubai, I wanted to give up smoking. I became aware of its health hazard and risks to my body. But it was a habit that was extremely hard to give up. I switched from Rothmans to the Silk Cut brand because the latter had less nicotine. A year or two later, I gave it up cold turkey. It was hard; I failed many times and gave up yet again. Eventually, I won in a matter of a few months.
A Child of Curiosity How inherent inquisitiveness became a key driver in learning experiences. Denzil Jayasinghe · B orn in the mid-20th century, I am a product of the post-World War II era. My parents, who were teenagers when the war commenced, married in the 1950s. As a representative of the baby boomer generation, I was born under the astrological sign of Capricorn, the tenth sign of the zodiac. My birth took place at Zoysa Nursing Home, a renowned institution in Colombo, Sri Lanka, around 5 in the morning. Sri Lanka, known for its tropical climate, is a beautiful island nation south of India. This climate appealed to me, and I sought similar weather in my twenties, spending them in Dubai, where the winter resembles an Australian summer. Raised by religious parents, I held them in deep affection. However, the church teachings posed a paradox for a young mind, instructing one to love God more than one’s parents. I initially adhered to the Ten Commandments and other societal norms in ...
Demons and Devotion: A Family’s Pilgrimage Denzil Jayasinghe · “Demons and Devotion: A Pilgrimage to Tewatta” is a short story by Denzil Jayasinghe about a family’s pilgrimage to a holy site in Sri Lanka. The story follows Denzil, the eldest son, as he reluctantly accompanies his devout parents on this journey to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. Although initially sceptical, Denzil reflects on his childhood faith and his family's hardships. However, the pilgrimage turns unexpectedly when an encounter with a priest who claims a demon possesses Denzil creates tension and leaves him angry. T he air hung heavy with a solemnity that felt out of place for a silver wedding anniversary. Denzil’s father, whose pronouncements held the weight of scripture, declared, “We are going on a special trip to the holy place of Our Lady at Tewatta. This day, showing God’s blessings, will be a private event for our family.” On a recent arrival for a two-week holiday in Sri Lanka...
Shattered Innocence A story of a needle Denzil Jayasinghe · “Shattered Innocence. A Story of a Needle” by Denzil Jayasinghe is a short story told from the perspective of a lad who discovers their father injecting insulin . This discovery shatters his innocence as he grapples with the reality of his father’s diabetes and the fear and uncertainty it brings. The story explores themes of family, responsibility, and the challenges of facing difficult realities. T he pre-dawn light filtered through the window, casting a pale glow over a scene that shattered my world. We were lost in the quiet routine of getting ready — me for the apprenticeship, my siblings for school, and my father for his work. I wandered into my parents’ room, searching for the familiar black comb. What I found wasn’t the comb but a sight that froze me in my tracks. Father, stripped down to his white undies, his usually strong face creased with worry, was doing something… di...
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