|I vouch for no Sri Lankan experience but mine, and remain neutral on the nation's political situation despite what might appear to be insinuations of partisanship (these are in the interest of lyricism). I have chosen to not have a glossary primarily because I don't like the exoticization of a great deal of women's writing from my culture.|
|I write not to show off or even to share my culture - I write because I am my culture, and because I believe that if I am sincere in this, the spirit of the work is conveyed regardless of linguistic differences
You bring out the Sri Lankan in me.
The glint of tigress eye.
The monsoon of memory.
You bring out the Sri Lankan in me
The craze of poya night in me.
|The dipping ginger biscuits in hot plain tea in me.
You are the one I would surrender other loves for,
share the sucking of the pulp off manga kotte with
screw the fashionable guilt over sura meen puttu with,
listen to the Kantha Shasti Kavasam with.
Comb my hair with olive oil. Call me Kannamma.
Make love to me with all the poems of red earth and pouring rain.
And I will be yours.