I’m a Greek Princess!

Alright, far from it really. But I share my name with a Greek princess who was also the wife of a popular demi god. Whenever someone asks what my name means, I leave out the Greek princess bit and just let on that it’s a place in Greece, which is true enough.

The question that follows immediately is if I’m Greek. To which I respond with an elaborate and absolutely far-fetched story about how I am a Greek citizen, and would you believe that a gullible few actually buy it?

Here’s a clip of Disney’s version of the princess-

What’s funny is there was once a Sri Lankan King with a name that’s quite similar. The Greek princess’s name is spelt with an ‘e’, where as the king’s name is spelt with an ‘i’ instead. It’s pronounced distinctively different, but there have been a countless number of times when I’ve been put down as ‘Mr’ here in Sri Lanka!

And of course all the twisted ways people pronounce my name is quite amusing. I think the worst so far would have to be what my senior school math teacher called me once. She got my last and first name in a bunch called me Tiggera. I instantly felt like the female equivalent of the bouncing tiger from the Hundred Acre Woods…
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Hotel Keralafonia

This song cracked me up! Figured I’d share it with the rest of you.

Enjoy! (Check out the lyrics below)

Lyrics-

On the road to Trivandrum

Coconut oil in my hair

Warm smell of avial

Rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance

I saw a pink tube-light

My tummy rumbled, I felt weak and thin

I had to stop for a bite

There he stood in the doorway

Flicked his mundu in style

And I was thinking to myself

I don’t like the look of his smile

Then he lit up a petromax

Muttering ‘No power today’

More Mallus down the corridor

I thought I heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel Kerala-fonia

Such a lousy place,

Such a lousy place

Such a sad disgrace,

Plenty of bugs at the Hotel Kerala-fonia

Any time of year

Any time of year

It’s infested here

His finger’s stuck up his nostril

He’s got a big, thick mustache

He makes an ugly noise

And he just laughs

Buxom girls clad in pavada

Eating banana chips

Some roll their eyes, and

Some roll their hips

I said to the manager

My room’s full of mice

He said,

Don’t worry, saar,I sending you

meen karri, brandy and ice

And still those voices were crying from far away

Wake you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear them pray

Save us from the Hotel Kerala-fonia

What a lousy place,

What a lousy place

Such a sad disgrace

Trying to live at the Hotel Kerala-fonia

It is no surprise

It is no surprise

That it swarms with flies

The blind man was pouring

Stale sambar on rice

And he said

We are all just actors here

In Silk Smitha-disguise

And in the dining chamber

We gathered for the feast

We stab it with our steely knives

But we just can’t cut that beef

Last thing I remember

I was writhing on the floor

That cockroach in my appam-stew was the culprit, I am sure !!!

Relax, said the watchman

This enema will make you well

And his friends laughed as they held me down

God’s Own Country ? Oh, Hell!

Creative juices

I like to dabble in all things creative. Although since I’ve developed quite a few creative interests, I haven’t been able to devote my time to and fully explore one in particular. No qualms there anyway, I like to think of myself as a sort of Jack of all trades but a King of none.

Of my creative interest, I’m best at sketching. Some of my sketches can be found here and here. Not half bad at painting, my most recent work can be found here. I write poetry, one of my poems can be found here.

I write short stories as well, but most people can’t seem to appreciate the macabre nature of them. So I’ll keep them to myself.

Beside that there’s music… possibly my weakest creative interest. I don’t think I’ll be able to compose music EVER but I practice playing rock songs on my guitar (it has to be rock!). I haven’t got any links for that though. I haven’t followed our in-house maestro,  Gehan’s example and made a headless videos of myself  strumming my guitar. You can call me macabre, morbid, whatever you will but cruel is what I’m not, I’ve spared you all the torture that my household is subjected to when I pick up my guitar.

I’ve also tried my hand at photography. However, I haven’t been able to explore that avenue since all I’ve got is my sister’s Nikon DSLR… when she isn’t looking! She’s very protective about her precious camera. Of course you can’t blame her. I have a nasty track record for losing things and I happen to be a klutz- I have a tendency to trip and drop things (often both at the same time).

Anyway I decided to try my hand at concept photography recently. I’ve posted two pics below. Will put up the rest later- whenever I’m struck with a bout of writer’s block.

Attribution: The origami cranes were constructed by my li’l bro. Waiting for my mom at the hospital he was so bored he made 11 cranes!

The Alpha Male

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The Oddball

Listen up!

And yet again I found myself defending heavy metal. This time it was one of my regular heavy metal gainsayers… Tulie.

Tulie loathes heavy metal with such fervour it’s fascinating to watch her diss the genre of music without having listened to it.  While we are good friends, she thinks I’m a bit addled in the head ’cause of my predilection towards music with a heavier beat.

Whether I’m a few fries short of a Happy Meal or an empty tray- after  a couple of diatribes against metal, I realised it’s futile to try to convince Tulie that metal music isn’t as bad as she has preconceived it to be.

Abandoning that argument, I figured I’d try to make her understand that Metalheads aren’t a race of disturbed people. That she should accept the fact it’s perfectly normal for people to be inclined to electric guitar riffs and emphatic beats.

To which she replied, “Yeah, sure… just as how we should accept that there are people who like normal sex and there are those who are necrophiliacs.”

I was blindsided. For a moment I was frozen… stunned, and then I burst out laughing! I couldn’t help myself even though I should have been offended that she had just compared Metalheads to necrophiliacs!

It’s well established that there’s no dice in arguing with Tulie about heavy metal BUT I will continue to do so. Why? ‘Cause it’s fun!

That aside, it is quite evident that there’s only a handful of people who appreciate metal. Most, like Tulie, seem to think that Metal is nothing more than painful earsplitting noise.

To all those who share Tulie’s sentiments about Metal, I suggest you listen to the guitar solo of Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin.

Do you not hear the rhythm???

The busker in me

When I’m finally able to play a complete song on my guitar… I will take my guitar out into Colombo, on a warm Saturday afternoon, find myself a spot on the pavement and strum out whatever song I can.

And don’t think I won’t.

I’ve got no reservations about doing this sort of thing.

Once while stuck in traffic for about half an hour, I got my bro to join me in pointing into the sky and exclaiming “Oooh look at that!” “Right there” “Wow”.

Got people in cars, vans, tuk tuks and buses, to stick their heads out of the shutters and desperately scan the sky for something that wasn’t there.

I’ve sung out loud, with my singing buddies CTTE and Nikang, once while walking  from the BMICH to the Punchi Theatre but mostly while on Galle road.

I’ve twirled and danced with CTTE, on our bi-weekly pilgrimage to the  Sensal at Thimbirigasyaya for brownies.

I’ve done cartwheels at Independence Square, Galle face and at the main entrance of the BMICH.

And that’s just half of it. So don’t think I won’t try being a busker for a day.

Keep an eye out… You just might catch me on a pavement strumming some painful notes, and if you do be sure to toss me a few coins. My guitar could do with new strings…

Don’t expect to see me any time too soon though… all I can manage so far is the intro for Seven Nation Army by the White Stripes.

But when I do master a complete song, I will find my pitch and busk away!