Itried to ignore my feelings but eventually got bored of reading and thinking, so I leaned against my bed and created space between me and the cupboard. I crept under the bed and pulled a centrefold hidden under the mattress.
The centrefold had become creased from being folded and squished under the weight of the mattress. The naked model in the picture was lying down and seemed really into something. I rubbed my eyes to relax and couldn’t stop staring at her seductive image. Every day after school, I lay on my bed and stared at her. It felt like we had a personal connection and felt super intimate.
I pulled down my pants. I could see myself in the mirror. I grabbed mine firmly and moved my hand back and forth fast until I came on my hand and the ground. I quickly wiped everything with my sarong that lay near me. I did that quickly before anyone could see what I was up to.
Even though the tension was gone, I felt guilty. When I put away my sarong, I realised that I had been thinking about Ruth and Ramani while doing it and felt ashamed of myself for thinking about them like that.
‘What would God think of me now? I am no longer worthy of his care. What would happen if I died tonight? Will I burn in hell?’
Suddenly, I heard some noises from the kitchen, like pots and pans clanging and coconuts being grated. I peeked through the curtains but didn’t see anyone. So, I decided to look out the window and see what was happening. I hid my sarong under the bed, hoping it would dry out by the night when I would wear it to sleep. I smelt like bleach. My hand was sticky, and I needed to wash it. I exited the house from the front door and walked up to the water well.
I pulled a bucket of water, drank half of it, and washed my hands with the remainder. I leaned against the wall at the water well. I purged my lungs of air and decided I was the worst person on the face of the planet.
‘The only one who abuses himself. The one who defies God. A vulgar boy. Why am I like that? Why does God give me this temptation to wank?’
‘Why do I do this thing every day? Will I become thinner? Will they suspect my bad habit?’
‘Will I be less of a man? Will I be able to get married one day?’
‘I won’t do this again. Today is the last day; I am an idiot to fall into this temptation, this dreadful sin, my daily sin. I don’t have self-control.’
I felt helpless. I was no longer in charge of my body. My tummy was hurting, billowing a sound. I closed my eyes and waited for this feeling to go away. I heard my mother calling me. I remained silent, for I could not move.
The more I was like, “I’m not doing that again,” the more it seemed like there was no way I could actually stick to it.
‘Why am I so weak? Why don’t I love my God and stay away from these things?’
‘I don’t want to confess to the priest. That is impossible. How can I ask God to forgive me?’
‘Father, forgive me’ was my plea to my God.
I slipped back home without anyone noticing. I rechecked the room to ensure that my soiled sarong was out of sight, hidden under my bed.
It was getting dark. I hoped I would not fall into my temptation again that night.
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...
3 min read·Feb 28
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