Wednesday, 5 August 2015


I don't know his name.
Aloysius in the Army,
Driver Ranji at Rivira
Ranji Aiya to younger drivers
Ranji to me.
He has up days and down days
suicidal days filled with mother's filth
many mothers of course
good days of impressions
dirty jokes
and exploits
with men and women
some armed and others disarmed
but Ranji the Brave goes meek
at mention of wife,
Tough Ranji can't take sad stories
and that's when Ranji the Baby is (re)born.
He can be stopped with a few words:
it's a smile-killing, laughter-dissolving query
one that turns clear eyes red
fractures the strident voice
cuts down manliness
forces about turn
උඹ මගේ මිනිය කරගහනවා නේද?
'Will you carry my coffin when I am dead?'
I don't know his name,
a brother of a kind he is,

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