Our family cat Damian passed away last night. He was an American cat and it was fitting that he passed on the Fourth Of July. Damian was an ornery cat made happy by the love and care of my sister and parents. I brought him home on the day of my high school graduation (a stunningly thoughtless thing, in hindsight) and my sister and mother actually raised him. He then travelled back to Sri Lanka and had a great time till he got old.
Archive for the 'Personal' Category
Sorry for disappearing for two weeks. I got married, to one Shruthi Mathews (Shru). She is a smarter cookie than me, and much prettier, so hence. I don’t write much truly personal stuff on this blog, but a marriage is not entirely personal, as I’m finding out. It involves family, friends and a public reading of the banns, of sorts. We’re not in Hi Magazine or anything, and have no desire to be, but I am proud to be married to her, and I suppose you might as well know. She’s a beautiful, intelligent and strong woman and I love her very much.
So Shru has two dogs, who are generally pretty genial and well-behaved. They’re big though. It’s easy to forget that they’re crazy animals. Until they remind you. We had them in the back of the car, which is usually OK, except they smell. We were on Park Street stopped in traffic when someone violated three centimeters of the demilitarised zone and they started fighting. Normally we can catch the growling and separate them, but now it was too late. They were on each others ears, about four inches from our heads.
I’m happy to be featured in Echelon magazine’s 40 Under 40 feature, profiling young people who contribute to the economy in some way, mainly in business but also in terms of innovation and thought leadership. It’s an interesting article not just in that I’m in it (mainly for work on indi.ca and Kottu but also YAMU) but also in that the magazine takes a bit of a critical stance. It’s worth reading the editorial (which I can only find in print) where they describe that only a few women are included and that all of the 40 are from middle to upper middle class backgrounds.
Isura said it best ‘I’ve met SARATH only once. But feels like known him for ages’. I met Sarath Sathiamoorthy a few times but I also felt like I’d known him forever through his innovative use of social media for business. The last time I saw him I was buying flowers for my mother at his shop, the Bloom Room. He said he was limiting his work hours for health reasons, though he looked as active and vibrant as ever. Yesterday, however, he died. Sarath Sathiamoorthy has passed away.
When I first arrived in America I didn’t speak English. I’ve always been monolingual, either mono-lingual Sinhala as a child or monolingual English (with bad French) now. Actually, I spoke English first, in Canada, then completely switched to Sinhala in Sri Lanka. When we went to America I had to relearn English from scratch. I have little memory of it but apparently I couldn’t ask to go to the bathroom. What I do remember, unclearly, was being invited to a birthday party as a child an A) not knowing what was going on and B) having some woefully inadequate gift. I think it was a bouncy ball and some plastic unicorn. That can’t be right.
I was getting my passport and the lady asked what to list as occupation. I said writer. She said, ‘can you show me anything you’ve written?’ I wanted to point to a computer but I couldn’t see any. I write for papers but it’s not like I had any on me. So what to do. On my passport it doesn’t list any occupation at all. Someone recently asked me how much I write and I finally did a wordcount. I’ve published over 1.2 million words over ten years now. That’s War And Peace, twice.
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.