Owl Poetry & Prose

Exhausted Pigeon Thoughts…

Exhausted pigeon. Or bloody fool. These were some of the ideas that flitted through my rather tired head. I had not slept enough. Last night was spent listening to a missed lecture on the early Brahmi Script and an Ashoka inscription. After a point my tired brain could not anymore and I went to sleep.

Aagh! I shouted and jumped out of bed coz I thought my balcony door was being opened. It was the bloody curtain. Growl. Went back to sleep. Sigh

Woke up way too early for some reason and was under the impression that someone I know had got divorced. Wtf. My brain is now hallucinating in my sleep – dreams these are called. I really need to get a life.

Anyhow the day was good – started with laundry – two loads – and then prepped for my lectures in the morning  and lunch I was going for. Wore a dress. With pockets. But loose. Good coz I knew the lunch would be good and I knew that going to class in a fitting dress would not be too wise. Or so I felt.

Covid. Director of the institute had been diagnosed with Covid having graced the corridors, classrooms and all possible nooks and crannies. So we were expected to leave – should have been warned but of course we weren’t. The institute was a reflection of the state of the whole country – falling apart at the seams with no real leadership.

We finished the inscription we had started and left. The inscription was a warning to the Buddhist monks to follow the teachings of the Buddha and not to veer. Quite relevant to today as well – that King Ashoka was clearly a fearless dude. He wasn’t afraid to tell the Sangha off when required. Today of course the roles have reversed and now we are at the mercy of myths, soothsayers and thugs.

In the middle of all this a friend messaged about a guy we know- cool, chilled, married dude – preying on young girls. What the actual fuck. I was so shocked – peadophilia is honestly a plague in this country. I also recalled another known devil – an insufferable flirt – who had had to leave his jobs coz of sexual harassment allegations. Both these dudes share a name – made me wonder. Honestly this country reeks of perverts, sick bastards and liars. Is it any wonder women can’t trust anyone?? I was quite angry – next time someone asks a ‘why aren’t you married’ question I am going to tell them these things. People are honestly fucking clueless. I don’t envy the wives of these men – they all portray a very ‘happy’ family. My arse.

I walked with my many bags to the lunch venue. Felt a bit exposed in a dress but hey what the hell, I told myself being different is not a bad thing. I really need to stop giving a rat’s ass about every joker’s opinion out there. One can’t be throwing stones at every dog that barks.

I had forgotten how nice that walk was – an avenue of trees which is so rare in Colombo now. Gregory’s Road still had its old world charm. Horton Place was slowly becoming the Pettah thoroughfare complete with restaurants, salons, bars and shops. The sex workers I am sure still frequented it at night. The new ‘C7’ would be Pelawatte & Thalawathugoda. The rich, famous and notorious were already there. Interesting times.

Lunch was amazing – this uncle really knew how to cook and feed his friends and family. I loved it – it was so wholesome, tasty and made with love. Home cooked food is truly wholesome and delish – just that you need the luxury of time and the patience of an ocean to do it. I haven’t that luxury right now. It can be quite irritating.

Anyhow the day ended with a haircut because my hair had grown – long. But a little bit like the tails of these women who grow their hair no matter what, never cut it and keep it tied up in a bun or plaited like some tail. Yuck. I wanted a proper style and a manageable length. Got it done and I was pleased.

Went looking for a wedding gift for a friend after – nothing. There are some hideous things with mad price tags – honestly what are people thinking. I just abandoned the gift idea and crept into a high end ‘gourmet’ shop with imported and expensive goodies. Indulged in a marzipan and dark chocolate bark, some Bacon Jam and a Jalapeno cheese amongst a few other delicacies. There was a pack of frozen razor clams – such a calamity. I shall buy the fresh clams and make my dishes. Not this frozen nonsense. After pottering around the store and feeling a bit greedy, I bought my stuff and headed home.

Now I am in the midst of trying to pen something sensible while being distracted with some random fantasy in my head supplemented by pop music. I really need to sleep. Exhaustion is turning me into a nutcase methinks. Lol




Meet Lilanka
“what is meant to be comes about of what one does”.
An eclectic personality with a penchant for creativity, Lilanka is an old soul who loves life, laughter and stepping off the beaten track. She finds joy in nature, travelling and venting her existential frustrations via her writing while calming her body with food and her soul with music. Her motto is – “what is meant to be comes about of what one does”.
A collection of eclectic expressions from life according to Lilanka Botejue. From her creative outbursts and passionate views to her love for nature, food, music and archaeology, Owl Muses is an attempt to capture these moments in time.
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