A new Sri Lankan writer, Vihanga Perera, has contacted Erandi about a session on his book, Unplugged Quarter. I think we can certainly go ahead with a reading and a discussion, but it will be best if at least some of you read the book before that. I myself haven't read it yet!:( If you read it you could also decide whether you're interested enough to talk about the book too....!
Also, Elmo Jayawardene will be back in the country end of June for a month, and he's kindly agreed to come and talk about his writing. Either Erandi, or the group that interviewed him -- Ameen, Lochana, Madhusha and Amani (if I remember right)-- could email him after uni reopens and fix a date, because he is bound to be busy. It will be nice if you read his books before he comes, once again -- Sam's Story, which won the Gratiaen award, and his more recent collection of short stories, Rainbows in Braille.
Do let us know. You can use this blog as a forum to discuss activities of the ESA as well.
See you next week when Semester 2 starts!! Hope you all had a nice holiday.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
A poem by Yichaelle Devendra
Hi all, I'm posting a poem by Yichaelle Devendra, who used to be a lecturer in the Dept of English, and a student of English at Kelaniya. Ms Devendra now lives in Waterloo, Ontario, in Canada. This poem recently won an award at a poetry contest for the National Poetry Month 2010 by the Cambridge Libraries in Cambridge, Ontario.
The Phone Call
The past does find its way back through telephone wires,
across lands and sea into jet streams
When you hear a dog bark in between her sad tales
of solitary supper and arthritis,
spaced with pleas—"Come back"
The past springs surprisingly-Like the crow of a rooster
At high Noon—in another land where it is already tomorrow,
And here, I am still yesterday, getting ready for bed
Head full of winter planning in rumpled pyjamas
Was it real?
The old dog's bark, the sound of breakfast and the smell
of old laments
The bell at the gate.
"HANG ON" she says "THERE'S SOMEONE OUTSIDE"
Is she still waiting for his return? Or mine?
The dark truths, not dealt with, slither back as silently as a
viper in the fool moon
Its pouch full of venom startling the unsuspecting foot
The world we make is never memory proof,
Even the deleted parts
Like believing we are loved
Squeeze themselves through the wires
Disguised as long distance telephony
Just clotting memories of blood and tears and her solitary sadness,
As fragile as mist on a goose wing—as
Luminous as longing.
The Phone Call
The past does find its way back through telephone wires,
across lands and sea into jet streams
When you hear a dog bark in between her sad tales
of solitary supper and arthritis,
spaced with pleas—"Come back"
The past springs surprisingly-Like the crow of a rooster
At high Noon—in another land where it is already tomorrow,
And here, I am still yesterday, getting ready for bed
Head full of winter planning in rumpled pyjamas
Was it real?
The old dog's bark, the sound of breakfast and the smell
of old laments
The bell at the gate.
"HANG ON" she says "THERE'S SOMEONE OUTSIDE"
Is she still waiting for his return? Or mine?
The dark truths, not dealt with, slither back as silently as a
viper in the fool moon
Its pouch full of venom startling the unsuspecting foot
The world we make is never memory proof,
Even the deleted parts
Like believing we are loved
Squeeze themselves through the wires
Disguised as long distance telephony
Just clotting memories of blood and tears and her solitary sadness,
As fragile as mist on a goose wing—as
Luminous as longing.
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