IIt’s 5 am. I’ve been up all night. We’re supposed to be. The doors and windows are open. Seeya’s body is in the living room. The candles are burning down.

My grandfather was born November 19th, 1924, in Panadura. That side of the family had gradually proceeded up the coast, from Matara generations ago. Achchi and Seeya eventually settled in Mount Lavinia. When I was young we lived there. Many people lived there, when they needed to. I grew up around a lot of Akkas and Ayyas who I later discovered weren’t really relatives at all. But they were. That’s what I remember most about my grandfather. He was a good man.

I got the car back, but I don’t even want it anymore. I’m not saying it isn’t great to have wheels. It’s just that you miss a lot when you’re not on the street. I had to head into town today and I just left the car at home. I’m not in a hurry and my job is largely to see. So I looked around.

I spent Avurudu weekend away from tech as much as possible. It’s not very possible. At my Achchi’s house there’s only phone reception in one corner of the verandah, but now there’s satellite TV. I carry an analog looking camera, but it’s still digital, and cousins still want to look. I took the iPad to perhaps write or draw, but they want to play Angry Birds. Meanwhile the aunts and uncles want to know how to setup Bluetooth on their phones. Not that it’s just my relatives, I was damn sure in that corner of the verandah, checking my Facebook messages. It’s not easy to get away, least of all from myself.

Happy Sinhala and Tamil New Year everyone. I’m going back to the village and taking a break from blogging. Everybody’s taking a break from everything really. I’ve heard Avurudu called the revenge of the rural on the city – all the domestics and laborers go home and city people have to sweep their own floors. It’s also a nice check out and refresh holiday. I’m heading out.

I can sleep almost anywhere, and do. I think I inherited this from my mother. However, lately I’ve discovered that I also drool and loll my head about like a fool. I never quite realized this. I’d say it was embarrassing, but I’m asleep. I wouldn’t even be aware, if not for these pictures.

Of one person really, but there’s a shot with me. No homo. Above is Imaad painting in the room at 98 Acres, the resort we were reviewing. I am hanging somewhat precariously off the side of the balcony. The focus with reflections is wonky and this took a couple tries.

Seriously, I just came home and passed out on the floor for like two hours. Phone ringing, whatever, nothing. Just K.O. It’s too hot too live, too cold to catch fire and disappear. Just lie on my back and stew. In other news, I shouldn’t have eaten that short eat.

I left the house today. That was a bad idea. Being on the street these days is like being inside an internal combustion engine. Being on the road feels like being inside a car, and not the passenger part. What I’m trying to say is, it’s hot.

Friends have commented that I use the word bullshit too much, especially on the post here. Indeed, I find unright speech the hardest thing to take sil from. That said, I really can’t think of a good synonym for bullshit.