How to steal a pair of boxers in 8 easy steps:

1. Check for remnants of the tag
2. Pick a few articles of clothing and carry them in your hand
3. Look for CCTV camera and pillars
4. Repeatedly take your phone out and put it back into your big handbag
5. Find pillar and get a really tall guy to watch your back
6. Slip boxers into bag (do not look suspicious while doing it)
7. Have a contingency plan if you get caught
8. Walk out with a few people who have bags from the same store. This particular step helps if you get caught, because security usually checks the shopping bags first.

Yes I stole from a department store, well because Shia dared me (the tall guy who watched my back) and well I can’t pass a dare, I’m a sucker for them, really. The boxers are cute and well worth the intense turmoil and sweating.

Note : Please don’t steal. Stealing is bad, it’s just wrong and I promise I won’t ever do it again.

P.S don’t tell Santa

When I tend to say too much…

While Pokey tries to order food, I hop around, stare at the garlic coated psychedelic work of art and then hop a little bit more towards the sweet counter. Before I make it to the counter where the brownies look tempting, I’m yanked away and taken back to read the menu.

Pokey –“For normal people dessert comes after lunch, so stop flitting across the bloody room and order lunch”

Me –“Ouch pokey that hurts” (he has his fingers wrapped around my very snapable neck)

Pokey –“We need to do this quickly so we can get back to work and finish off stuff we should have finished yesterday, if only you didn’t go out for lunch with your boyfriend”

Me – “Oh don’t be like that, I scrapped lunch with him today, so we can work on it. So there, aren’t you happy?”

Pokey –“Oh that’s really sweet, you do love me a little?

Me –“ Er actually no,well he had assignments so he couldn’t make it”

Pokey – “WTF”

Damn wish I had a filter system!

I saw mummy kissing…

Lost in thought on the drive back home, I subconsciously close the shutter to avoid the wrath of the hurricane like weather that seems to be sweeping across Sri Lanka. I think about everything, all a bit too routinely. Then to avoid thinking too deeply about things, I quickly whip out my phone and try to pass the time while my stupid driver swerves to the edge of the Wellawatte canal. I quickly put my phone back into my pocket and scream at the driver to go slow. Then I settle into my uncomfortable seat with a pounding heart and try to listen to the music playing off the radio. This is what I hear:

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night
She didn’t see me creep
Down the stairs to have a peep
She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep
Then I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath his beard so snowy white
Oh, what a laugh it would have been
If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night

I’ve heard this song before, many many times before but I never stopped to listen to it this critically. Do you hear what I hear? Of course we know that mommy was actually kissing daddy. But would any kid listening to it, know that?

The idiosyncrasies of a woman

A young woman dates a psychotic man for 8 months. One day at a nightclub he gets mad with her because she refuses to hold his hand. He then calls her a whore, demands that she returns the gifts he had given her, which happens to be a watch and a ring. They part ways after he threatens to make her life miserable. She feels ashamed, angry and wants to get over the relationship quickly.

2 months later, she gives him another chance.

And we call this education…

As long as I can remember Catholic schools have always had problems with our religion, for that matter all schools have an adverse, nauseating view about our religion. Ah my mind wanders to the days when I was a kid and had to face ignorant people, called teachers (thank God, it wasn’t a Catholic school where nuns ran around claiming to know everything) well I was constantly asked why I didn’t sing the national anthem? Why I didn’t celebrate Christmas? Why I didn’t believe that Jesus is God? Why I didn’t celebrate my birthday? Question after question would follow and then ridicule, then punishment. Most often, I would feel my heart racing, my palms sweating and my speech slurring while trying to explain, and since it usually involved the presence of others I would start to shy away if someone mocked me. Wish I had guts back then!

Anyway this brings me to the story of my sister who attends a Catholic school, the school is very much aware of our religion. So when her class was asked to participate in the yearly carol service, my sister explained to the teacher in charge why we don’t and won’t take part in it. The teacher told her that it was ok to take part because there were Buddhists and other religious kids taking part as well. My sister very calmly reasoned that whatever they wanted to do was their decision but her decision won’t change because she absolutely refuses to back out of her beliefs. The teacher was understanding and told her that she would be excluded from it.

The day for the dreaded carol service arrived, the headmistress asked her why she wasn’t in church singing, she tried to explain but the headmistress instead of listening hit her 3 times with a wooden ruler (the usual weapon of torture in Sri Lankan schools systems).  It must have hurt real bad, I know the pain because I’ve got it a couple of times and it doesn’t help when you’re as skinny as I am. What did my sister do? She stood her ground. Didn’t budge from her position. The headmistress gave up and left. That’s when the tears started to flow.

How did she learn to be this courageous! It took me a long time to stand up, speak up, and dispel that gut wrenching fear. I’m proud of her, but I’m also angry with the school system in general. So basically our schools teach children to go against their religious beliefs. What about teaching children to respect other religions, other viewpoints, other opinions? If the nuns call themselves servants of God, aren’t they being hypocritical?

Someone really ought to tell them to practice what they preach. Well I’ve already made an appointment with the headmistress. Maybe its time to put my guts into use and make up for being an useless wrench in my formative years.