…striving for redemption.

It’s a “supercalifragilisespioli………”(sorry,I can’t remember the rest)..situation!

It goes beyond the races

Nw I remember it ‘supercalifragilisespiolidoshash…”

Sometimes we get the wrong end of the stick.

I must say writng poetry is not my forte although I love reading it and trying to make sense of it.

I find it a very moving story. Niranjan is saying that we should get past appearances before passing judgements on people. The taxi driver is a perfect foil for this–he is a person who is quick to stereotype people and pass judgement on them. But as he reads the passenger’s private messages and personal notes, he gets to understand who he really is, and what motivates him. As the protagonist is Sinhalese, a taxi driver, and one who has not travelled, and his passenger is Tamil and a well-travelled academic, the ‘discovery’ the taxi-driver makes into the passenger’s character and psyche becomes an allegory about understanding that crosses boundaries of race, class and nations. He’s commenting especially on the way the masses rush to judgement on civil society types, and suggesting that we not overlook their good intentions, and that liberalism is not as nasty as it’s made out to be. The taxi-driver’s name “Hick” refers to his provincial judgements. There’s underlying comment here too on the difference between a much better inter-cultural Sri Lankan past and a present that is driven by ethnic chauvinisms and polarization.

Only problem with it is that the taxi driver’s use of language is not realistic. If Niranjan could work on that so that the cab driver speaks like a Sinhalese Colombo cab driver, and maybe explain how the taxi driver was able to read and understand writing in English, it would be more believable. (Maybe he gets someone to translate the email and personal note to him, and then explains them in his own brand of English–with some Sinhalese words thrown in–that would throw light on how people cross cultural boundaries to understand each other.) The taxi-driver’s realistic use of Colombo English would spice up the story too.

I would also love to hear the tour guide’s voice and use of language in telling his garbled and chauvinistic story of the past.

Loved the joke about the monkeys in Parliament!

You correctly exposed Niranjan. Remember, there are thousands of Niranjan’s out there to be exposed in our society. Believe me.

Having said that don’t put all Tamils in the same basket.

The point of the story is about why Niranjan, who teaches at a university in the UK, goes back to universities (Hilltop = Peradeniya, UpNawth = Jaffna, and Busytown= Moratuwa?) in Sri Lanka for a week or so to supervise a few PhD students and give seminars. And to explain that–that he does this as a debt to his father– he writes it through the eyes of his Sinhalese taxi driver. You seem to have missed that in fact Niranjan = Thevaram, though the voice is that of the taxi driver.

I would say the rest is simply “navel-gazing,” with a bit of humor thrown in.

I must confess, during teenage years, I was very dynamic, enterprising and even entrepreneurial. At school, I was bright in intellect and participated in extra-curricular activity in a big way. I also won many awards for excellence in general knowledge. Outside, I organised cultural and social events especially during New Year and Wesak.

Most of all, I wanted to be an intellectual meaning cultivating ‘creative intelligence’.

I was elated when I was admitted to University on a scholarship to pursue liberal arts. I was on the moon knowing I will use my creative intelligence to enlighten the world around me. Soon, I learned otherwise. I learned to do what my lectures wanted me to do and pass with honours to be appointed as a lecturer.

I tried my luck again but to be told by the Professor to draw the line reminding me that I could be eligible for a PhD scholarship at an overseas university. I obliged but parents and friends started question my sanity.

As an obedient and good scholar I earned the PhD scholarship as promised.

I tried my luck for the third time hoping that the overseas university will give me the academic freedom to pursue my search for creative intelligence to be told that I must follow the traditions.

I gained my PhD with colours, stayed overseas and work as a lecturer. I have published a few text books and amend every year for the last five years. I find it a good way to sell my books and supplement my income.

Everyone one in Sri Lanka thinks I am so lucky to be foreign educated and live here. But I am longing to be the teenager once I was.

Now back to why my wife called me a ‘bum’. After living with her for two years, I still do not know how use the dishwasher, washing machine or TV remote. Most embarrassingly, I found I could not work out how to use electronics in my new car and called help from a neighbour who happened be a carpenter.

Do not completely write me off. I am still an expert on human rights, individual liberty and civil society though I refuse do cooking or cleaning at home.

found any publishers yet? i doubt it!

the single most important improvement that can be made to any future short stories, attempt to drain them of the viscous arrogance and superiority that drips from every paragraph.

Wife also had an auspicious name “Manimekalai”- a good Tamil Buddhist name to complement the husband’s staunchly Saivite name.