Rock-a-bye baby

Everytime I put my baby to sleep I sing him a lullaby. I keep on singing it until he dozes off and then I just hum it in an undertone.

But every single time, up until he finally falls asleep, even with his eyes closed, Baby protests having to go to sleep ( at least I thought so). He always goes "gnnnnnnnn" or "mmmmmmm" or " ahhhhhh".

Today, while I was putting Baby down for his morning nap Darling said "stop humming". I looked at him in wonder. What did he mean? Did he not want me to sing to the baby?

"Trust me". He said. "Just stop humming for minute".

I stopped humming. So did Baby.

I started again. So did Baby.

All this time he had not been protesting at all. He had been singing and humming along with me.

New resolutions

After Baby was born I've been kind of slack lately. I take care of him and that seems to be pretty much all I do. I've been told countless times by loved ones that I better get back to my usual self and not be a lazy, fat person who (in a moment of insanity) cut her own long hair short.

I have to start doing many things. I have to start taking care of myself. I just realised that I don't want Baby to have slob for a mother or for Darling to have a slob for a wife. They deserve better. I deserve better.

So it's time to start making some changes. Starting tonight. I thought if I write this and send it out into the universe that it might help me.

So what am I going to do?

For starters, work out everyday. Secondly try my hand at some craft project every day. I don't necessarily need to finish one every day, just make something.

Above all else, I just want have strength of mind.

P.s also hope that my hair will grow back faster.

Thank you,nose

I rock my baby for a good twenty minutes and he finally falls asleep when my nose decides that it is the perfect time for  a sneeze.

Not just my nose, something always seems to get in the way of my baby's sleep.
1) He's in my arms and I HAVE TO scratch my back.

2) I close the curtain. crrrrrreee.... go the curtain hooks on the curatin rail.

3) I close the window. The window latch goes click.

4) Someoneone has to use a wheelbarrow right outside the window. eeeooooeeeeoooo

5) I'm nicely lounging next to himusing the laptop. I click on the moisrpad.

6) It is right outside our gate that a van driver devides to brake. screeeechh....  

7) I'm cautious like a spy when I get out of bed and CRASH..  Topple the nappie bucket over.

8) I kiss him.

9) A car honks.

10) Our three dogs have a barkfest.

11) My mother calls me to come have dinner.

පුතු

මා පළමු වතාවට මවක් වුනේ මේ ඊයේ පෙරේදා ය.  නිදි නැති රැයවල්, මගහැරුණු කෑම වේල් මට දැන් පුරුදු දේ වී  තිබේ. 

පුතා පාන්දර සිට නිදි නැත. කුකුළා හඬලන්නටත්  කලින් ඇහැරෙන ඔහු අත පය ගසමින්, "ආ ඕ" කියමින් සිටියි. මම අමාරුවෙන් ඔලුව කෙලින් කරගෙන, බාගෙට ඇරුණු ඇස් වලින් ඔහු දෙස බලා හිඳිමි. විටෙක මා දෙසට හැරෙන ඔහු කිරි ඉල්ලන්නට කට  හදයි. කකුල් දෙකෙන් බයිසිකල් පදියි. අත් දෙකටත් නිනව්වක් නැත. 

ඔක්කොම මහන්සි නැති වෙන්නේ පුතා මදෙස බලා සිනැසෙන විටය. සමහරක් විටෙක මා ඔහුට ආදරේ බව පවසන විට ඔහු ඉතා සතුටෙන් හිනා වෙයි. හරියට මා කියන දේ තේරුණා සේය. මගේ මුහුණ දෙස බලා "ඕ ඕ" කියයි.  මා ඔහුව සිප ගන්නා විට වේගයෙන් අත් පා  ගසයි. 

මීටත් වඩා සතුටක් ලෝකයේ තිබෙන්නට විදියක් නැත. මා මෙතරම් වාසනාවන්ත වූයේ කෙසේදැයි සිතෙන විට මගේ සිතට අනියත බියක් දැනෙයි.  සෑම නව මවකටම එසේ සිතේදැයි මම කල්පනා  කරමි. 

පුතා කිරි බොනවා ඇතිද, නිදනවා ඇතිද, වැඩීම හොඳයිද, දාහක් ප්‍රශ්න මගේ ඔලුවේ සැරිසරයි. මගේ මව අතේ සිට මා ඉල්ලා හඬන විට මම ඔහුව වඩා නොගත්තොත් ඔහුට එය මානසිකව බලපායිද? ඊළඟ ප්‍රශ්නය මේවා වෛද්‍යවරයාගෙන් ඇසිය හැකිද යන්නයි.  

මවක් වීම ලේසි නැත. 

Meena

Meena was only fourteen when her mother left. One morning she woke up to the wails of her one year old brother crying and found out that her mother had left sometime in the dead of the night. Her father sat in a corner, not knowing what to do or how to console a crying one year old. As cries got more high pitched and louder, the other siblings woke up. There are three more of them. Meena is the eldest of five.

It was only years later that she found out that her mother had eloped with her lover, leaving her husband and five children stranded. Meena's father had had no clue and was in shock for months afterwards. Which is how it became Meena's responsibility to look after her four siblings.

Meena learnt to do everything. She would get up at 3.30 in the morning. Cook for the day. Wash all the clothes and get ready to go to school. She would then dress the two oldest siblings for school and wash the other two. On her way to school, she would deposit the two youngest siblings at her paternal aunt's. On her way back from school she would pick up the little ones. Most days she missed school, trying to calm baby tantrums, sooth growing pains, teething pains and hunger cries.

One day, when the one year old had grown up to be two years Meena found that the little fellow was having breathing difficulties. He seemed to be in pain. When she tilted his his head back she could see that there was something stuck in one of his nostrils. He was howling by this point and everything she had tried to dislodge what was stuck in his nose was proving to be futile. She was about to drag him to the bus station to go to the hospital when inspiration struck.

Meena threw a handful of dried chillies into the fire burning in the stove. The fiery smoke achieved what she could not all that while. At the smell of burning chillies, her brother sneezed, sending out the little peanut that was stuck in his nose hurling out.

Meena is twenty seven years old now. She doesn't miss her mother. Her only regret is that the mother who was never there would not see how they have grown. How they have fared without her. That is all.

බල්ලාගේ මරණය රසාස්වාදනය කිරීම

අපේ ගෙදර සුරතල් බැල්ලිය මරණයේ දොරටුව අභියස සිටී. මිය යාමට තරම් වයසක් තවමත් නැතිමුත් හදිසියේ රෝගාතුර වූ ඇය යන්තම් හිසවත් ඔසවා ගනු නොහැකිව ඔහේ වැතිර සිටී. ඇගේ නමින් කථා කළවිට වලිගය  හෙමිහිට සොළවයි. ගෙදරට පැමිණෙන අමුත්තන්ට ගෙරවීමට උත්සාහ දරයි. ගෙදර සියල්ලන්ම දුකිනි.

ඒ අතර මගේ පියාගේ විද්වත් මිතුරන් තමන්ගේ ශෝකය ඔහුට මෙලෙස ප්‍රකාශ කරයි. 

ප්‍රවීන ගත කතුවරයෙකුද පුවත්පත් තීරු රචකයෙකුද වන එක් මිතුරෙක් මගේ පියාට මෙසේ කියයි.

"අර මගේ, මේ පොතේ, මෙන්න මෙතන, බල්ලෙකු ගැන මෙහෙම කථාවක් තියෙනවා. කතාවේ කථා නායකයා තමාගේ සුරතල් බල්ලා, බලු පැටියෙකු කල දරුණු රෝගයකින් බේරා ගන්නවා. මහලු වී ලොම් හැලී ගිය පසුද එම බල්ලා නැවතත් තමාව බේරා ගනී සිතා ඔහු ලඟටම වී සිටිනවා."

තවත් මිතුරෙක් මගේ පියාට දුරකථනයෙන් අමතා මෙසේ කියයි. ඔහුද ලෝකප්‍රකට සිනමා කරුවෙකි. 

"බල්ලට කොහොමද? සිරි ගුණසිංහගේ අභිනිෂ්ක්‍රමණය පොතේ බල්ලාගේ මරණය නමින් කවියක් තිබෙනවා."

ඔහු එයින් නොනැවතී බල්ලාගේ මරණය නම් එම කවිය මගේ පියාට දුරකතනයෙන් පවසයි.

ඔහු එයින්ද නොනැවතේ. ස්වල්ප මොහොතකට පසු මගේ පියාට කෙටි පණිවිඩයක් එවමින් සිරි ගුණසිංහගේ කවියේ තතුද බල්ලන්ගේ මරණ ගැන ලියා තිබෙන වෙනත් කවීන්ගේ තවත් කවිවල තතුද අනුපිලිවෙලට දන්වා සිටී.

බල්ලාට කෙසේ වෙතත් මටනම් නැට්ටටම තදවෙන්නේ එවිටය.

Short story: Under the leafless Oak tree

You are silent, like me. You don't talk much, You don't feel the need to express everything in words.

You are silent, sitting here with me, on this park bench, under this leafless Oak tree. Between us there is no need for words. You just look at me.

You have a handful of blueberries in your palm. The last bounty of an already gone summer. I don't know from you where you found them. You are eating them one by one, as if to savour the taste of each of them. You look at me and silently offer me one.

Unlike her.

She would have said a million things about the berries by now. From "Ooooh darling, don't they remind you of little blue gems" to "OH! That's sour" scrunching up her face. You eat your berries knowing they are berries and nothing else. The sourness doesn't take you by surprise. For her each berry would be a new experience, always exclaimed in words. For you they are berries. You just look at me.

How I revel in the silence!. It's getting colder now, each evening. Trees are mere skeletons of what they used to be. I can see two last leaves hanging from the tip of an Oak branch, about to get caught in the wind, about to fall to the ground. She would by now, have cried in sympathy for the leafless trees. You just look at me instead.

With you, there is peace. I need not ask for silent time. I need not ask for time for my own. You understand. You are like me. We are like these two last Oak leaves drifting in the wind.

There is a slight breeze coming from the East. The trees are waving their branches as if saying goodbye to the summer. It soothes my soul to just sit here with you in this silence. She would have by now, held on to my shoulder shouting "Oh darling, isn't it romantic?". We just look at each other instead.

In a while, I have to get up from this bench and leave you, to her, where I call hearth and home. I have to leave this companionable silence and go where there is always noise. Where everything needs to be spoken aloud.

In just a little while, as the moon comes up, I have to get up from this bench and leave you under this leafless Oak tree, eating blueberries.

She would be waiting for me.