Tag Archives: personal

Faith in Humanity Restored, Partially


I walked into a Indian/Pakistani restaurant (I still can’t say the difference) a few hours ago ago, I asked for a menu card and they didn’t understand, none of them spoke any English. As I went in and sat down someone swayed his head about thirty degrees to either side of the vertical axis and said ‘Teekay’ (I think that’s what it was), I have been briefed just enough to say, ‘yes, thank you’. Not having a menu, I asked what types of chicken curry they had, the elderly man serving me told a whole string of varieties of which I couldn’t recognise or catch any, I heard the word Tandoori and I said okay Tandoori, ‘leggu’ ‘breshtu’ came the response, leg I replied, with an air of sophistication. The food got late to come, I enquired from another elderly waiter by gesticulating when the food will arrive, and he said something in Hindi/Urdu which I think was something along the lines of ‘on the way’.

The chicken curry came in a plate, with gravy in a bowl and a massive tandoori roti on another plate. I started eating, as one does. I tore the roti in half, not having room to place the other half anywhere I placed it in such a way that it covered the gravy bowl, and about an inch of it may have touched the clean table top.

By this time I had aroused the curiosity of all the waiters (who all were elderly men past their mid to late fifties). They kept looking at me furtively to see who this Indian-looking-non-hindi-speaking English speaking chap was. I occasionally heard pointed whispers.

I felt a bit like Ross from Friends, when all the doctors were looking at the mole on his back.

Some moments later, a third waiter came up to me, removed the roti that was covering my bowl of gravy, took it away and gave me a full fresh roti on a separate plate. A short moment later, yet another waiter arrived and offered me a cup of tea, I told him that I didn’t order one, unable to communicate he smiled endearingly and insisted that I take the cup of tea, I realised later that I hadn’t been charged.

For reasons unknown to me, they were so nice and generous that I am wondering if I came across as deserving sympathy in some way. Surely they didn’t know that I was tired and have a lot of writing work to finish.

I debated if I should leave a tip behind, I felt leaving a tip may come across as being disrespectful since their niceness towards me was most certainly genuine, and not some residual kindness stemming from capitalistic motives. I did leave a tip anyway. On a sub conscious level I was uttering prayers for them unconsciously, that their business should be profitable and that goodness blankets them, I can’t really say though, it wasn’t on a conscious plane.

Faith in humanity restored, partially.

Forgive the anti-climax.

Image from here.

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Filed under personal

This photoblog – One year on.

This photoblog was started in December 2008, But tomorrow, the 28th February this blog will be one year old in its wordpress home. Prior to this, this photoblog was here.

Just thought I’ll put in a post to mark the anniversary.

The photo is of the bloke in a waffle shop near the South Kensington station, London – who happily agreed to be photographed!

Have a great week!


Filed under personal, Sri Lanka

London snow – November 2010

London was absolutely miserable the whole of last week! At least it didn’t snow over the weekend. As I type this it is -3 degrees Celsius in London. The whole of last week snowed and it was apparently the worst November in at least 60 years, and the past tense of ‘snow’ is not ‘snew’.

I have been in this country for 4 years now and this November has been absolutely brutal! I remember going on site visits to open lands in Hounslow, London last November wearing just a shirt and a jumper. I was fully covered the last few days when I used to go out. I am generally resistant to the cold in London having spent most of my time in Newcastle which is arguably the coldest part in England, however I found London very cold this winter – God protect the poor buggers in Newcastle!

Here are a few pictures I took when my hands were so cold that they were burning! Yes, a sensation felt only by those who have lived in extreme winters. By ‘extreme’ I mean cold European winters, not the ones at the poles. Poles meaning, north and south – just in case.

Not the best photographs, but I like to use my blog as a sort of palimpsest where I record information for my own reminiscence later on. Hope you find them interesting too!

Outside my room window on 30.11. 2010. The roads are usually deserted, but the main roads may have been blocked due to the weather – hence the traffic

At the park near my house.

That’s me going back to my childhood. Three ways I can die :

1. Of hypothermia.
2. The weather beaten rope loosing tension and tearing and my head hitting the rock solid ice at least five feet below.
3. The three trunks converging at a point and plunging me to my death, it’s mathematically impossible that the trunks itself will hit me though.

Of course I didn’t die. Yet.

Oh, Graeme Swann just wrapped up the Australians in Adelaide and England lead the Ashes 1-0.


Filed under aufidius, england, personal, Uncategorized

New Camera,Flat and the trip to Bath!

I have been rather silent these few days. Well, truth be said there has been a lot happening – some I could do without, but I have seen people undergo so many calamities that make my odd discomfort seem non-existent. Just the other day I heard someone (not so well off Indian student must be) on the tube tell someone else how he travels a very long distance every week to work 55hrs a week on a wage of £2 per hour! Folks in Sri Lanka may think oooh that’s Rs. 360 per hour and close to Rs. 80,000 a month, not bad! Trust me, compared to how much you’ll spend living here – in my opinion working at that rate is virtual slavery! And he travels from Croydon to central London every day!

Again, some of you in Sri Lanka may not understand the gravity of what I am saying, since the contexts are totally different, those in Britain or those who have been here long enough would get it. Listening to him made me feel a painful amount of sympathy towards that guy and absolute relief that I am not in his place.

The minimum wage stipulated by labour laws in this country is £5.70 per hour, or something around that mark.

Anyway, to the crux of my post.

I bought a new camera! Absolutely chuffed – something I have always wanted and absolutely thrilled I bought it.

It’s a Canon EOS 1000D with an 18-55mm IS lens. It’s my first SLR and I am looking forward to the transition from point and shoot to DSLR photography!

My landlord called me a about ten days ago and said he wanted my flat due to a sudden family emergency – legally (ethically and morally even) , I am on a good footing to refuse – but I had to sympathise with his predicament so I offered to move out. Thankfully I got an absolutely gorgeous flat to which I hope to move in on the 1st November. I am at the moment living with a friend of my fathers, so things are packed and rather difficult since I don’t want to unpack too much lest I have to repack all over to move to my new flat, hence my inactivity in general and inactivity online in particular. Being in this state of limbo is very frustrating, staying unsettled and having to depend on someone else is very frustrating too. I say ‘depend’ because in true Sri Lankan fashion my father’s friend insists on doing everything and it’s a bit uncomfortable for me to stay as a guest for 14 days without doing anything back in return.

I have not even really got an opportunity to play with my new toy!

Thankfully, as I have said here, like we did here I am going on a trip to Bath this weekend with Amie, Kevin and Paul! I look forward to it and will hopefully take loads of photos with my new dslr and revel in the discoveries!

I hope you have a great weekend!


Filed under personal

100th Post: Ramadan – Stunning photographs!

It’s a bit too late to blog about Ramadan given that we are into the final tenth already! I came across some of these absolutely stunning photographs and I thought I’ll share them with you.

The whole set of pictures are of amazing quality and I loved the intricacy and attention to detail in every single one of them, it only made me envious of the skill of the photographer of each picture!

In addition to conveying a very informative message through the pictures, they also give a very deep insight into how Ramadan is celebrated around the world.

The pictures can be seen here.

These photos were first tweeted by Halik.

Incidentally, this also happens to be my one hundredth post!

Have a great weekend!


Filed under england, personal, Sri Lanka

Portrait: William and the Noodles

My good friend William and I studied Architecture in university together. We both got jobs in London after our degrees. This was taken when Will and I met up for a meal at Wagamamas, what he is so passionately devouring is a mixed seafood soup that comes with noodles.


Filed under england, portrait

Good times and good company!

Picture of some good friends of mine from work, on top of Carfax tower in Oxford. Please read related full post here.


Filed under aufidius, personal

Last day – either you’re pregnant or you aren’t !

As ominous as it may sound, last Friday the 13th was my last day at work. I was working as a part I Architectural assistant at a reputed firm in central London. Regular readers of this blog and my followers on twitter may have had to put up with my intermittent rants about work with all its banes and boons.

I worked at this same architectural firm in the summer of 2008 as a summer intern. I wrote a post about my time in this place after I stopped work, but unfortunately that blog post was for another blog and I hadn’t blogged anonymously, hence I am deprived of the opportunity to link it here. Reading that post may perhaps have given a background to what this post is about.

Architecturally, I have had a tremendous experience at this place. The kind of projects that I worked here are of such a nature that I never envisaged myself to be involved with them as a schoolboy with a wandering mind. Extensions to Heathrow Airport, Buildings for the Ministry of Defence and a few conservation projects to name a few. Incidentally I started work on the 1st September 2009 during Ramadan as I have mentioned here, and I stopped on the 13th August 2010 again during Ramadan. Anyway, this post is not wholly about the professional experience I had in this firm, rather it is in essence of something more important (at least to me) – the people that I came in touch with and the friends that I made.

To help put what I am about to say in context, allow me to give a brief outline of the firm I worked in. It is one of the better known architectural firms in the UK, started by one of Britain’s most famous post –modernist architects. When I worked here in 2008 there used to be approximately more than 60 staff, but the recession meant that the firm had to cut down a lot, albeit possibly steadily increasing or so it seems. As legend has it, this starkly contrasts to the times the firm had close to or more than a hundred employees.

I started in my customary position in the third floor, I say customary because that’s the floor I used to work on during my last stint. The significance of the floor you work on is dependent on the type of projects the floor specialises on.
The composition of the third floor had changed somewhat from when I last worked here. There were new faces and also the odd one or two who had come from other floors. Where I was seated, I was surrounded by girls (Well, women included) and in front of me was a bloke named Kevin Capo C, a part I student who was finishing his year as a placement student. At least four to five of my blogger friends have already met him, some even more than once.

Kevin likes to say he is from Liverpool, you have to get to know him enough to realise that he actually is from a peninsula close to Liverpool with a name as familiar as Vojislav Koštunica.

Kevin was around for about a month, being the only boy amongst all the other girls seated to the desks close to mine, Kevin and I got to know each other just well enough to talk something other than all those exaggerated tales of weddings, wedding gowns, wedding rings (or lack thereof), wedding cakes, wedding… etc.

After Kevin left, I had to find my way around the wedding related conversations between work and I must admit I did miss having a guy around to speak with even though the girls around were very good chappasses (for lack of another word). Kevin went back to his peninsula.

As time went on, work became more intense. I had to spend many a day working outside office hours to complete work, so much so that when I left one odd day at 5.30pm I came home and didn’t know what to do with my spare time! Just before Christmas, more staff were being laid off and to add salt to a fresh wound – one of the most liked and nicest persons I have worked with left to a better job. The few months that ensued weren’t particularly good in general, but personally I was having a not so enjoyable time. I wish not to dwell on it for purposes of this post.

Time passed by and slowly but surely things began to change for the better. We got some massive projects and in March or so, Kevin who had worked on a similar project before was asked if he can leave the comfort of his peninsula behind and come back to London for another stint at the practice. Kevin was available and I was chuffed, Kevin and I stayed in contact after he left last year.

Simultaneously, Liam al-Fuleye (no he isn’t an Arab) from a different floor was coming up to the third floor and was to sit in the desk beside mine and Kevin took his old place opposite me. Finally some respite from all the wedding talk I thought!
Things were enjoyable in spite of the workload we had. I was still having a bit of a discomforting time for no fault of mine, but having Liam and Kevin around whom genuinely saw and understood my odd predicament only reinforced a nonchalant sense of abstinence from the source of my then troubles. And as it seemed then, for better or for worse I was to leave my desk to a different floor immediately after Easter,as part of the rotational policy the practice uses to help students get a holistic architectural exposure.

After about a month after having moved to the third floor, Liam who was closer to qualifying as a full architect than Kevin or myself left the practice due to many reasons – the foremost being that the side which he was asked to come to had greener grass. A wise decision we thought! Liam was popular in all floors, and since he spent most time with Kevin and myself – it was different to not see his cheeky Irish face (told you he wasn’t Arab) and hear his monotonously consistent use of the F word (no, not Faith).

Kevin, Liam and I used to go to the nearby Tesco every day to buy lunch, a time which helped us regurgitate the mornings occurring’s – sometimes blended with a bit of humorous gossip albeit never malicious. As spring approached and the sun was coming out, we used to go to the park nearby to have lunch, mostly seated on the grass –this possibly because the benches around us were decorated passionately and determinedly with pigeon shit! Hard to say who may have done that!

About a week before Liam left, the third floor was joined by Paul Bob Scotland, preceded a little before that by another staff member, Amie Fabio.

When Paul was being introduced to floor to floor, my first impression of Paul with his energetic eyes and trimmed ginger beard was that if he were to poked with a fork (with friendly intents) he may turn back to face you to shout ‘freeeedorrrm’! Of course that impression swiftly diminished. Jenny Scotland his girlfriend, reports of incidents where as of late when she does a friendly jab on him he makes noises similar to something that sounds like ‘wnuk wnuk’ and this apparently comes coupled with hiccups. Jenny is still perplexed.

Kevin and I made a trip to Cambridge a few months ago as I relate here. Taking this as a precedent, we decided to do a day trip to Oxford. This time we spoke to Paul too who showed willingness to join. At a staff outing during the Germany vs Ghana world cup football match, we asked Amie if she would like to join and I was happy to hear that not only did she agree but she showed genuine interest too. Until then I hadn’t spoken to Amie more than I would to another staff member as she and I were on different floors and never really got to chat. The Oxford trip was super! And it did a lot to harness good spirits amongst us all.

We play softball every Wednesdays at Regent’s Park against other architectural practices. Kevin, Amie, Paul and I are regulars. Apart from day to day office work and these social outings, I have grown to like these four friends of mine. Although Liam is no longer with us (no he isn’t dead), he is very much part of our team in more respects than one.

I have known Kevin the longest followed by Liam. Paul and Amie have been around only for 4-5 months, but it seems that they have been around for so long that I had to wreck my brains thinking how long I know them for.

All those mentioned above are absolutely brilliant people and surely qualify as some of the nicest people I’ve met. I admire Kevin just for the way he conducts himself, I would fail to explain but he has a very correct way of dealing with situations in a very considerate yet effective manner and I continue to learn from him. As subject to interpretation as it may sound, Kevin and I have done many outings together – Cambridge, several trips to the cinema and even to a stimulating discussion on post-war Sri Lanka.

Amie is an absolute sport, a no fuss character who sticks to her guns and is a superb person to hang around with. Amie leads our softball team and one of those things that make softball ever so worth to be part of is Amie’s constant omnipresence in the field and her stirring words to all players. And to her credit she runs like a camel on fire with petrol stored in its hump! ( by hump I refer to this and resemblance to any other description is only co-incidental)

Then we have Paul, judging by the amount of times he says ‘Wnuk Wnuk’, it makes me wonder if he knew someone by that name! For some reason ‘Wnuk’ sounds so polish to me.

Paul and I have a very well-coordinated fielding ploy we employ to mesmerise the opposition! We have been so successful that the ever powerful Scottish 1st XI cricket team is after our splendid formula! Paul’s a really nice guy who is someone who’s immensely considerate and makes those around him very comfortable to speak to!
I just can’t say enough of these friends of mine who are just such nice human beings to start with!

On the other hand, I hope I have done my part to reciprocate all their good dealings with me. If at all there was something intrinsically different in them from me, it would be that they are British and I am a Sri Lankan. Being a Sri Lankan and a Muslim, I am an ambassador of a different identity – that of a Sri Lankan who is also Muslim. As it rightly should be, I have never let this be a hindrance to anything that my conscience stipulates as correct. I go out on Friday nights with those afore mentioned and I don’t consume alcohol, I go for barbecues et al whilst fasting during Ramadan and yet don’t relinquish my fast and I play softball whilst fasting and I am still fitter and faster than most and the occasional fat barrel from the opposition, slower of course than super Amie who runs as fast as a camel on fire. Although it may seem otherwise, I say this not to blow my own trumpet but to drive a point that it is rubbish to be lazy and sleep all day during Ramadan just because the body is naturally weaker. Or ‘Rubbadub’ as the partner I work under facetiously calls it, I think he was thinking of saying Ramadan and then ‘Poppadam’ came to mind and he got mixed up.

The media has conjured terms like ‘extremist Muslim’ or ‘moderate Muslim’. I just see these terms used by certain media as a tool to give a selling factor to their news.

There is no such thing as an extremist Muslim or a moderate Muslim! You’re either a Muslim or you aren’t. It’s like being pregnant – either you’re pregnant or you aren’t! Whoever heard of an extremist pregnancy or a moderate pregnancy! Of course being a Muslim (Christian, Jew or Buddhist for that matter), you can be good, bad or anything in-between. An example of a bad one being someone who spreads hatred and pain and that of a good one being someone from whose hands and tongue another human is safe.

I hope that as a Muslim and as an individual I have created an impression on all those who know me that provides an alternative to the negative and spurious stereotypes some sections of the media portrays of Muslims.

I conducted myself in such a way just because it is me, and not necessarily to create an impression, but in the process if I did create an impression then that’s good.

Even though I have my plans in mind, I really don’t know what can happen in the next 12 months. Having come here as a student, I have grown to like England and her peoples, love even. Apart from many facets of my demeanour that reflect my nature as an anglophile – the fact that I was genuinely nervous about the outcome of the England v Slovenia match which England had to win, the fact that I rose up from my seat and screamed in frustration when Frank Lampard’s goal was disallowed during the England v Germany match and the fact that I have a sincere sense of attachment to my uni and work friends and them reciprocating that attachment towards me (at least I like to think they do) are things of the past and present that make me gulp at the thought of having to leave England prematurely. As it stands, it’s just too early to tell.

In no particular order, Amie, Kevin, Paul and Liam – thank you ever so much for everything. It has been an absolute pleasure to work, play and just spend time with you all. Even though this post may prove otherwise, I am rather reluctant to give compliments, but allow me to admit that even though we will still meet each other albeit not daily, still be in touch and still get to know a glimpse of how the other spends his or her day – I will miss you guys and value every moment spent together.

This post is becoming a bit too cheesy now isn’t it? Well to hell with it!

The four of us (Liam doesn’t know yet) with a few others have planned a trip to Bath (noun, not verb), where apart from all the sightseeing and laughs – Amie and I may have a joint birthday party. This is scheduled to happen in October and I am as excited as if it is to happen next week.

Apart from those mentioned in this post, there have been others who have been superb to be at work with. Catherine of Tredegar, Mon O’Tone, Haike Giggles and Helen Vineyard amongst many others to name a few.

Although I am not in office anymore, I still join the team for softball. Tonight would be our last game this season. And for one last time I wholeheartedly look forward to seeing Kevin taking catches in the outfield, Amie giving her stirring battle cries from behind my position at third base (apart from that camel thing) and of course Paul coordinating with me to do our little criss-cross fielding stratagem!

(To the author’s best knowledge, accurately based on a true story. Names on this are semi-fictional and any exact resemblance to anyone else living or dead is purely coincidental)


Filed under personal, ramadan, work

In my quest for inspiration!

I have been rather uninspired lately; even when I do something that may make a worthy photograph I have been reluctant to make the effort to capture it. I would one day like to call myself a photographer, I say this not in a pretentious show of modesty expecting compliments which would contradict what I said – but I think I am still learning.

There was a time when by my standards, I could conjure up a good  image out of a usually inharmonious setting, (again by my standards), but as of late I have been rather reluctant to take photographs. I have gone through phases; there was a time when I used to be fascinated by macros, then portraits, emotions and black and whites and so on. As it is now, I seem not to be in a phase and that is rather alarming to me. I hope I get out of my blocks soon and start clicking away very soon. I have a trip to Oxford this Sunday, hopefully that will open the flood gates.

I am a bit of a perfectionist and that works a lot against me, I take six to seven pictures of the same image intent just to get it right, sometimes I am unsatisfied with all my images and I never upload them. Few weeks later I see them and I think, damn these are actually alright! They should’ve been uploaded!

I took this image in one of my uninspired, aggressive and forceful moods when I thought I must do something!

There’s an amazing co-relation between my state of mind and my photographs. My photographs are best when I am happy & relaxed and when I am not however much I try even if I am given the best camera in the world with the perfect environmental setting it occurs that the photographs I have taken aren’t the best. Not to suggest that I am having an emotional low these past weeks, thankfully not at all – but I have been rather exhausted with a lot of work and serious decisions to make, and that possibly is having an implication on my photography – which for me is a form of my expression.

Here’s hoping I’ll back to being my usual self and being a bit unlike me and letting go of this seemingly inherent want to have everything perfect to the most minute detail! I start work only tomorrow this week. Good week all!


Filed under aufidius, england, macro

Pink razors ? not for you Sir!

I read Halik’s post and remembered one of my own.

When I was still in school in 2004, when having a phone was the ‘in thing’ and the likes of twitter or facebook were unheard of, I toured the UK for two weeks. I met other students from other countries and it was a good convention of like-minded students and teaching staff where we learnt of and saw a lot of things.

The tour itself was great, it was my first visit to the UK and I had a lot of highlights. Even if not one of the most academically important, I think this particular incident really did teach me a lot of things.

I think it was in Aberdeen or Glasgow in Scotland where this took place. Now this was a 14 day all expenses paid tour, I took one (yes just one) razor as part of my toiletries. I really didn’t need that many, because facial hair growth was minimal and things on the face were only starting to happen, well pimples apart that is.

I can’t really remember the details, but we were to have a dinner or tea-meeting with the city’s mayor or someone of some significance and we were to be dressed smart, bow tie and all. And I realised that it may be better to just shave off the facial hair just beginning to sprout and look more in one extreme, I should either have a proper well groomed beard or none at all, as it was- my facial hair growth then was about one hundredth of the way towards a proper beard.

With all the stuff I had, little stuff like cables, chargers and those of the same ilk I had lost my razor in the suitcase.

So I walked into the shop nearby, male ego and all – going to buy a razor you see. Went through the aisles looked around, walked around pompously as if I had a whole bank to spend and then I went to the counter, where ironically razors were behind the sales girl.

I waited in the queue and then it was my turn to make my order, and by now there was quite a queue behind me, from the normal queen like old woman with a regal outlook to the suave executive. With my school boy confidence oozing I said pointing at the most expensive pack of disposable razors, ‘can I have one of those please’, I heard a deafening hush behind me – the reason for which I didn’t know then. The salesgirl who may have been about five years my senior looked at me, smiled and with a slight sarcastic politeness said as if to deflate my confident air, ‘we don’t sell singles sir, you have to buy the whole pack’.

This was new to me, I was used to going to the shop near the junction, five minutes from the road I live in Colombo and just said ‘uncle Gillette ekak denna’, when I was out of pocket money I just say ‘uncle bic ekak denna’. Being the eldest in the family, and the first to go through life’s changes, asking money from my parents to buy a razor was more embarrassing than it was painful for Oliver when he asked for more.

When the salesgirl told me this, I was in a new kind of predicament – now what! The pack of razors I had shown her was about £ 8.50 and as a school boy in 2004 the cash rate converter rang alarm bells in my head just then. I was going to do a transaction of about Rs. 1750 for a pack of ten razors which I will take at least 8 months to exhaust, at the rate my beard was growing.

I quickly looked around, and with renewed confidence spotted the cheapest pack of razors – given the amount of facial hair I had, anything would do I thought. The cheapest was a pink coloured pack (I must’ve thought it was salmon), I pointed at that and said, ‘oh, in that case I’ll have that pack’. Connecting with the smiling queue behind me, she said ‘pink razors aren’t for you sir’ as if I hadn’t got it already she reinforced that by saying ‘they are for ladies’.

I was stumped, as a losing warrior on a quest for redemption I bought that £ 8.50 packet of razors and walked back to the hotel I was in, knowing inside that I was a man beaten, boy rather. I had bought razors for Rs 1750! It kept haunting me every time I saw that pack; I could have had seventeen meals at MC food court with that amount! Hell I could have taken the whole of my AL class to MC food court and been the hero! Yeah, MC food court was sadly the decent hang out place then.

In my defence, those were different times – whilst we (or I) knew things in theory, the fact that a product such as a razor also has a market amongst the ladies had not really sunk it. Or maybe I was just the slow weirdo who didn’t catch up with the times.

Then in Sri Lanka, I can’t recall ever seeing a tv advert showing razors for women, razors were always a men’s thing and was always attributed to a smooth cut a man can have. Plus, those were times when twitter, facebook, online activism, youtube were unheard of if they were already there and even a high speed adsl internet connection was only owned by a very limited amount of businesses. Adsl was just beginning to be marketed and only a handful of people had it then, I certainly had only my dial up connection. Free flow of information was not as rampant and effective as it is now.

Lesson learnt I guess.

Have a great week!


Filed under england, humour, personal