Monday, January 24, 2011

accepting the absurd

"Thus I draw from the absurd three consequences, which are my revolt, my freedom, and my passion. By the mere activity of consciousness I transform into a rule of life what was an invitation to death, and I refuse suicide."

“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”

--albert camus

Sunday, January 16, 2011

velakari

in light of the devastating recent events, i've been thinking even more about sri lanka again. and so, as i was getting out the few dvds and things i have from there to watch and listen to, i decided to youtube my favorite tamil movie again, and i finally found it! my best friend, sampath, gave this movie to me and made me watch it. it's about a british girl that goes to india when she's young and falls in love with a goat-herding native, and she learns tamil culture for him. but then she has to return to england. and when she's old, she goes back to try to find him, but he's died. sampath and i used to laugh that i would go back to sri lanka in 60 years to look for him, my sri lankan brother, but he would be dead. he found that part a little funnier than i did, but considering the life he's known, his sense of humor is understandably a bit different than mine. i told him there was no way i was waiting that long to go back anyways, so it didn't matter...

this scene is our favorite scene/song (specifically from 0:30-6:00), where he takes her around and shows her his culture, and she begins learning tamil. it's pretty cheesy, but so so so wonderful. and some parts of the scene are really beautiful.



also, in case you're wondering. sampath and his family are doing "okay." meaning, they're alive and have food--for now. however, everything in the area is pretty destroyed, which means they will have to start the re-building process yet again, just like after the war and then after the tsunami. sampath sent me these pictures of him and his daughter at his house...





i think the hardest thing about this all is being so far away. the desire to just be there is pretty overwhelming. even though i couldn't do anything and would really just be in the way, i would give anything to hug them all right now. or just hold their hands and look at them, like i did constantly for my last few days there. but of course, when i did get to talk to one of the boys the other day who doesn't speak english, and i kept saying "thannir?! thannir?!" (water), they laughed and said, "yes, sister, water everywhere. but we are okay." nothing reminds me of what it means to be alive like their laughter.

i hope to continue to try to live my life remembering that i am guaranteed nothing more than what they have--not one more privileged minute. and to laugh constantly. and, of course, to dance.