The stranger visits his roots

Having mixed emotions and this roller coaster ride of emotions is driving me up the wall is an understatement. Reached Ambalangoda yesterday, and I am confused here.  But I shouldn’t be because technically speaking this is where I truly belong, this is where my ancestors lived for many generations and I suspect some of the present and next generation will continue to live.

Grandma’s death is taking its toll on me. I don’t know why I feel the way I do, but I do. Its freaking crazy. I am a stranger here, amongst my own relatives.

I lived in Colombo with my parents but left home when I was 19. Thanks to Dialog, I could afford my own boarding room then. My career took off, so did my arrogance. But I’ve grown with time I guess.

I left home for strange reasons. Lets not go into the funny reasons, but as fate had it I left home when I was still a teen technically. My lifestyle meant I had very little savings, during this time I dated some, slept with some, but eventually met this girl who would become my live in partner. My mom threw a fit. It was unheard of, certainly unheard of in my family.

I had very little choice then, I felt I needed to standby this girl who had left her home for me, and so I did, and still do… this commitment to a girl would only mean one thing, leaving my family and earning their wrath.

My family is traditional in every sense of the word. Granny was a very strong woman. She was calling the shots on all matters and I always felt she was an arrogant old bitch obsessed with power and status. These “Walawa” women are strange species I tell ya. They think they are it. Sad creatures !

I never could relate to her as her grandchild let alone agree with anything she said. I avoided her whenever possible. This continued for 5 years until this Tuesday when I got the call. She was in her deathbed, and someone who still had some mercy left for me felt the need to inform me. I went to see, I think more as an obligation but it was too late by then.

The thing about death, it brings people together. I’ve come with my live in girlfriend; so far no one seemed to care. At least that’s a relief. Under normal circumstances on a normal day I could only imagine a war. My younger cousins are calling her Akki, and I must admit I feel proud. At least they seem to care, and I know it’s a genuine one.  So there’s hope there, with these teeny weenie cousins of mine. They seem settled.

Granny is gone, and for the better I think. I don’t know, but this life is crazy. I am surrounded by my relatives, but only the younger ones are talking to me.

Funeral arrangements are being made and I have been told to keep away from it. I did try to help, only to receive this “Best way you can help us is by confining yourself to that room” reply. That’s OK too. I love this corner room that I have been given. It has this wonderful view of a cinnamon plantation plus Internet access. Cool I think.

Buddhist culture is fucking silly. Its not like I have committed a murder here. If anything I cared for a human that cared for me. What exactly is wrong here, I don’t know..

I am accused of this living together thing, like it’s a taboo in this society. Yes I love Savithri, I care for her, and I sleep with her, and we are both fine with it. We do intend having a proper family together someday. Proper as in legally signing papers and stuff, but that’s weird. Papers are what they are, papers. They don’t build bonds between hearts. I don’t exactly see what the issue here.. Traditions, customs, norms, practices and culture are all man made. Anything man made is questionable; at least I feel that way.  Back in the old day some clever man had thought this is how we should live and we are following it blindly to date. Isn’t that silly?

If you have an understanding family consider yourself damn lucky. Treasure those moments for I miss them you know it only when you lose it.

Death is cool sometimes. I managed to see faces I’ve been longing to see for years now. No one talks, but no one is objecting to my presence in this place either. So I am hopeful, hopeful that one day I’ll get to see my mom accept Savithri…  or is this wishful thinking. I guess only time will tell, till then,  bye…..