May 14: Ancestor

GALLE
Photograph by @atticus900 (a Muslim man who
likely speaks Tamil & Singhalese in a fort made by the 
Portuguese & developed by the Dutch and the English)

From Pubudu Sachithanandan (@atticus900):

In Serendib
skeins of lineage mixed up
like a ball of wool
after a cat went postal.
Sinhala kings who wrote in Tamil and
had South Indian brides. Buddhists
who worship at Kataragama
in Hindu shrines. Eurasians &
matrilineal Moors...

So don’t tell me about the pureness of ancestry.
We’re mongrels, you and I.




From India, with Love:
"Appa, why can't we go back?"

They had been moving between the homes of distant relatives; she no longer believed  they were really her uncles and auntses.

"Summa iru," her mother snapped.

Later she would find her father outside, his form lit under the moon.

"Sampur is no longer ours to go back to."

From @sharasekaram:
The greatest fears, hopes and dreams of humans are etched in the stories that they tell. They sing them, speak them, learn them from their ancestors and live them. Their stories create worlds, preserve them and destroy them. They hold lessons, secrets, beliefs and sometimes the truth. And that my dears is the true magic.

From Priyanthie de Silva:
"Leave a worthy legacy for posterity" my parents said. Considering the fact that amongst my ancestors were alcoholics, drug addicts & murderers, it did not seem as they were overly concerned about the legacy they left us. At conception, the blue-print of our lives are in place. What we do thereafter is inevitable.

From @shamsmakkiya:
A TRIBUTE TO US BY OUR INHERITORS - 2120

We are indeed proud to own your adventurous  blood. You have done so much that now we could abide peacefully in Mars and Moon. Wish you are here to witness our great NANO TSAR BOMBA that devastated the incendiary land of yours. Hats off to our ancestors!

From Pavi Kulatunga:
Wind swooshed through the branches of the dancing oak, as the white light of the twilight faded. i knelt before the stone; the oncoming storm spoke through the voice of my ancestors. I heard them. “Though the storm rages loud and strong, it will calm, quiet; the damage restored, the broken healed. Life never ends.”

From Jonathan Vittachi (@jonnyjujubes):
See the difference is... For every member of Nalin's family that has accomplished something great, Shane felt like he had a relative who was a proper letdown. He felt that he had to work that much harder to prove to himself, and Nalin, that he is someone. That he is worth it.

From Tristan Kube:
When this sojourn nears its end and I one day stay awake at night, staring up  back into the past; I hope I’d have done my best to unwind (as much as I can) this mess that has been passed down to us in the guise of urbanization and development by our myopic forebears. 

From @wikifreakz:
"Our ancestors believed that sacrificing a 'thun kuludul daruva'* for Bahiravaya is an essential ritual in untying treasure portals. In 2012...-" HE pressed PAUSE button.

The Secretary said, "Finding 1-1-1 DNA won't be a big deal. We've got every citizen's genography in our archives, from 2125.."

[*Roughly translated, 'being the first child for three generations']

From @PennyKinned:
The new school stood nearly empty on its first day.

The spirits are angry, the villagers said, refusing to send their children. It should not have been built on the ancient ancestral burial ground.

The next morning, hundreds of flowers surrounded the building – they had bloomed overnight.

The school was packed on its second day.


From Daiyaan (@nazthewiz):
Our ancestors, could have been nice people, who were wary of their, deeds.

Or, perhaps they were malicious.

Truth, at any given era, is always buried too deep.

Even, whatever we say, our ancestors could be the best of people, cuz today the malicious are outnumbering the good.

We are indeed, fine ancestors in the making.


@Mari_deSilva:
How could they go so wrong? What has become of the wisdom they bestowed upon us? If they could see us now, would they not weep? To see what we have become, is it not to see their lives’ pains come to nothing? Do we feel no remorse? No despair? Who even are we anymore?