Tag Archives: My life???

Home Schooled…..



Why is it that we always like to think about all the good in people? I know its better to be an optimistic than pessimistic. But, when truth is glaring at you in the face why turn a blind eye….. Maybe, we react to people in a way that assures us that others in return would look at us in a favorable light as well.


Keeping a relationship professional is never easy irrespective of what kind of relationship it is. I think its important to draw boundaries… what and what nots to do. After, that its about keeping to the rules. Just like the law, if you break these self-imposed rules then you are morally culpable and deserve the consequences it brings.

I know my boundaries. I can make a decision and stand by it irrespective of what happens… Stubborn & Stupid? Maybe but at least I can sleep better at night.


I burnt them…. at least I tried and finally had to get someone else to do it. I threw them once, torn them once, kept them with a friend once, took my mind off them once. None of them worked…. burning was the only option.


I won the lottery and spent the money to apply to Harvard to my J.D. WTF… my nerdhood is spreading.

Double faced

Your best friend says the most surprising things about you behind your back. You think everything is fine and both of you are the Bestest Buddies. But I know and it makes me laugh every-time I see both of you act like everything is soooo fine… if only you knew what I know…..


Protected: Alone


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A Letter


Dear Friend,

You came into my life, a sparkle of joy. You make the world so bright, new and alive. Always eager to lend a shoulder or an ear, my life is so much better when you’re around. You held my hand, and you offered me a smile; you sat beside me and listened for awhile. When I lost hope, you gave me a shove; when I felt alone, you offered your hand. All of my days are sure to be better, as long as I have a friend like you to share my pain, my joy, my life.


A Believer

Symptoms of Nerdhood


You know you’re a ‘first class’ nerd when:

  1. You have a textbook next to your bed, which you read a chapter everyday before going to sleep.
  2. The last time you had an orgasm was while reading the book General theory of Interest Employment and Money
  3. You enjoy Studying – Like really full-heartily enjoy it –
  4. Spending more than 10 hours in the library is a norm not an exception
  5. After a great night out clubbing/pubbing, you come back drunk yet manage to study a few more hours before going to sleep
  6. Make excuses to skip a party, date with ur gf or even free booze to finish a research paper only due in a month’s time.
  7. Your ipod’s top most played songs are finance and macroeconomics lecture recordings.
  8. Dreams are merely another technique to revise your work….
  9. Get piss drunk and have an intellectual discussion on Tax Reform and Market Derivatives

Diagnosis – ‘A nerd’

Welcome to my World

Pure Bloods


Ah…. 6 generations of pure breeds…. From the time I can remember, my grandparents use to tell me the heroic achievements of my great ancestors. The Hewages have a long history of serving our nation. Hewage Ï was part of the great Kandian army serving the then King in the province of Puvakpitiya. Apparently, he started off as an ordinary soldier working himself through the ranks until he was finally appointed as chief constable for that province. Unfortunately, he died serving his country leaving his legacy in the hands of his two children.

His second son, Hewage II was trained to be a scholar since he was 5 years old. His whole life was spent at the Anuradapura Monastery among the brightest minds in the country. This was only done because the British rampaged from province to province killing all loyal servants to the King including their families (where he lost his whole family including his only brother). Hewage II was never able to realize his full potential as Academics was a forbidden lifestyle during that chapter of British rule and his brilliance was confined within the walls of the monastery. But the literature he wrote is still been used even after hundreds of years.

Hewage III, the second son of the first son of Hewage II, was an evolutionist…. Seeing his father murdered and burnt in public left him with scars that only revenge could heal. He was part of civil rights movement that bought independence to Sri Lanka. A career path, which like generations before him lead to his early death.

Hewage IV, my grandfather, was a pacifist by birth. Man who believed that kindness and compassion can heal this damaged world. A traditional medicine doctor by training – he dedicated his whole life towards helping the weak and helpless. He opened up several free clinics during a time in Sri Lanka when medicine was anything but widely available or affordable. He funded these clinics through the gem mines that he inherited from his great grandfather Hewage I, which were passed down from generation to generation. I can remember that even his final moments in this world was spent on helping a severely ill patient.

Hewage V, my father, a man who believed that ‘country first everything else can wait’. He was my role model growing up, the dedication and courage he showed to straighten up the corrupt bureaucracy in Sri Lankan was profound. This was a time in our country when bribes and crimes were becoming a social norm. For 22 years, he has fought this losing battle with the hope that someday his children can live in country worth calling the ‘pearl of the Indian Ocean’.

Hewage VI, that’s me. I know that to measure up to the Hewages before me would be near to impossible…. but hey with an untainted blood line like this I know I was born to do great things 🙂



An element god put in all of us to remind us that end of day we are all human…… Everyone has a weakness(es) irrespective of whether we know of it or not…. To think we are perfect and have no imperfection might itself be ones own weakness…. So after much thought I have just realized my weakness.

It makes me a nice person even for that split second (a drastic shift from my normally portrayed character)…. It makes me care about something besides myself (to be physically attached to something – which I try not to do)…. It makes me shed a tear (in violation of article 77 of the Code of the Brotherhood)…. It distracts me from my studies (trust me so far NOTHING has ever achieved to do that)…..

In other words…… it lowers this solid shield I have built around myself…. It makes me feel vulnerable….  as vulnerable and fragile as it is possible to be. I feel like I am shredded to the core. ….. at a point where I am stripped bare naked. Even, the smallest insignificant thing can spear right through me leaving a scar, which even time cannot heal……. Yet….. I dn’t get rid of it since its the only time in my life when I feel human ….. to know what it feels like to live……..

‘Feeling’ It Right ?


It’s a funny thing about guys.

We don’t talk about our “feelings” too much.  Most guys, straight, bi, or gay never really get to express all the stuff that rolls around in their heads.  And by ‘heads’ I mean the one north of the navel.  We’re always allowed to talk about the one down south unless you’re in the workplace, and even then it’s alright as long as you’re with folks who aren’t uptight about that sort of thing.  It’s like we aren’t allowed to express emotion unless it is of an aggressive nature.  We are taught that it isn’t manly to express our thoughts or hurts or vulnerabilities.  We aren’t allowed to cry.  Crying is for girls and sissies.  And you don’t want to be a sissy, do you?

We aren’t allowed to talk about romantic notions or get “in touch” with our softer sides.  Make this mistake and you are suddenly labeled as a pansy, nancy boy, or at best just weak.  Women have it better in this respect, I think.  They can verbalize what’s eating at them and its okay.  Healthy, in fact.  But not us guys.  What male hasn’t ever heard that “big boys don’t cry” or “be a man” or “suck it up you goddamned little faggot and quit your crying, little shit headed worthless piece of shit mama’s boy!”  Okay, maybe that last one was just my father, but you get the idea.  Hell, even my mother would scold me for being too girlish and effeminate.  It was difficult at age seven to articulate to her that I preferred roosters to kittens.  Think about that a while.  You’ll get it.

No, guys just aren’t allowed to have feelings let alone talk about them in “group”.  Unless, of course, you are an alcoholic and then it’s okay because it’s the booze talking and that doesn’t count.  In fact, I tend to believe that there are probably more male alcoholics than female.  Now, I don’t have any statistics on that, it’s just my opinion so please don’t berate me for that.  I think guys are more prone to self medication to at least dull the pain because they can’t exorcize it in order to get rid of it.

So lately I’ve had a few of those “issues” that crop up in life from time to time.  I, of course, think I have more than my fair share but that’s probably an exaggeration.  I’m sure lots of guys go into a dark place in their lives and suddenly find that they just went deeper – but I wouldn’t know that for sure because we can’t talk about it!  But my issues seem to be getting the better of me at the moment.  That’s not a cry for help, by the way, it’s just a statement so please don’t make the offer to go out for coffee and a chat.

Recently, however, I did tell a buddy that I was in an uncomfortable place.  In a round about way, I did sort of hint that I could really appreciate unloading some of that tension to a listening ear.  Not asking for advice nor asking him to solve the problems – just to listen.  Completely prepared to return the favor if ever needed.  It was pretty clear that he was entirely uncomfortable with that.  Figures.  Again, our conditioning tells us that that is taboo.  I apologized, as I frequently tend to do, and dropped it.

It’s a shame, really, that we can’t seem to get to a place where everybody feels free enough to just be human and recognize and express their fears and frustrations.  Either that or he just couldn’t be bothered with another nancy boy crying over spilled milk