Well alright, I won’t visit the island any time soon.
I have lost the terrorist thread. I don’t know how
to sport a backpack stuffed with ball bearings. But
the government engages righly in wooing visitors
back, reducing landing fees, excusing the pesky
need for a visa in advance (except for Chinese
and Indians, which seems counter-intuitive
given investments by the aforementioned nations
in their ongoing tussle for hearts and minds)
But I am getting distracted. The government
impresses me with its desire to dream again
of being number one in Travel and Leisure,
the place to go in the New York Times.
As a good Ceylonese of the old school
I will make my tea and buy seeni sambol
from the local Sri Lankan grocer. I live
in a diverse metropolitan area close
to a powerful capital. Seeni sambol and date
chutney are available here. I can order
string hoppers from local Lankans who turn
their kitchens into profit. So no harm done.
I remain unable to sport terrorist thoughts.
I am a Ceylonese of the old school, where
race was an unpleasant subject not discussed.
Give me a statue in front of the old parliament.
And the right of return, as well. After all
we have signed the most important UN charters.
We believe in non alignment and ploughshares.
Dear Indran,
I heard you read with Leonard Gontarek and others the other night. I was so impressed with your reading…on so many levels.
These poems are also terrific. So I was so surprised to see I followed you in this journal. My name is Alicia Askenase, I’m happy to be in such good company!