Poya Day Serenade
March 11, 2009
It’s just amazing to wake up on a rainy day to realize it’s a holiday.
Sipping on my morning tea safely hidden away in my balcony, I languidly gaze upon the earthlings walking about hurriedly in the street. The men choose to run and avoid the rain. The girls jog a little, then stop and walk, then start to jog again – as if not quite sure whether their feet can achieve such a monumental task. The lazy drizzle makes elegant waves of resonance in the mud puddle across the street. Occasionally a child would ruin it, and I think to myself, what a wonderful world.
Time to make myself useful, so I trod along to the Supermarket. Buy a heap of things I dont’ need, and somethings I do need. The meat stall is closed, so I buy two packs of beef sausages three packs of back bacon. I’m usually a chicken guy, but it’s the poya day no – the government wants us to buy processed meat.
Damn, I have three quarters of the day left. Wat to do? I go to the Serendib Book Shop. Closed. I go to the Sadeepa Book Shop. Closed. I go the refrigerator man to fix my AC. Closed. Oh well. I guess they’re all enjoying the poya day, like me.Yay for them!
I come back home. The cold weather is killing me. I need to cuddle someone. I try to chat up one of my ex’s for a booty call. She says she has to go the temple on the afternoon with her mum. I tell her that it’s just going to be 30 min tops. She knows me better than I do and tells me that what I really need is an intellectual whore, not a real whore.
Wanting to prove her wrong, I trod along to a massage parlour. Most of the massage therapists it seems, observe sil on Poya Days, and it so happens that the available girls are all busy.
I come back to me lofty abode, rejected, dejected and neglected.
Mix up some Heladiv Lemon Ice Tea with a little Red Label. Ahh…. Heaven. I wondered why I bothered to go out in the first place.