fragile houses, fragile lives
The houses along the New Galle Road, Moratuwa are a great reminder of
anithya or impermanence. they are mostly made of planks of wood, a few
have walls made of cement blocks that will never be whitewashed. Very
few have gardens to grow various plants, and fences seem to be a sign of
some level of wealth. Some houses have attached bathrooms, while many
share public washrooms. Very few have windows, and the windowed houses
too, they are mostly frames, the glass long cracked, broken or removed.
These houses may never pass the test of time. The road construction leaves the houses covered in a sheet of dust, and due to the raising of the road, the houses seem even more tucked away. The socializing with neighbors that once took place on the pavement, when in the evenings, families brought out plastic chairs and the kids ran around, has now been brought to a halt because of the roadwork. The houses will soon be gone, or so it seems. Finally travelers will see the great oceans and vast skies.
Yet, these houses, no matter how small they are, or how fragile they are, are homes to their occupants. Sure, very few have furniture, very few have TVs or fridges. Yet, when the fisherman can see land from far in to the seas, his catch ready to be sold, it is that house of wood planks that his heart yearns for. It may not be a palace, but to him, it is home. He finds comfort in the chair that needs repairs, the cracked plates, the clothes that need to be replaced. For it is not through wealth or materialistic goods that a house becomes a home. It is through the love one has for another, the sharing of a life, that a house becomes a home.
This is why we must remember that no one is better off than the other. We often look at people and say 'pau' or sin, we feel sorry for people, we pity them. Yet, who are we to do that?
'Pau' is just what it is in English; sin. The way Sri Lankans say,"sin men" implies whatever 'tragedy' one is going through is caused by the sinful deeds done. While poverty may be seen as a consequence of one's past actions, who are we to say they are poor of happiness or love?
Looking at the faces of the occupants of those fragile houses as they sit under the evening sky, one can see happiness. They seem to have, for a moment at least, forgotten the debts, the expenses, the alcoholic men, the screaming kids, the clothes that need washing. Instead they laugh and talk. Those are not practiced smiles, worn for a camera and not out of happiness. They may not wear shimmering gowns or be chauffeured around in a shiny new car. And yet, they are happy.
Thus who are we to judge? Who are we to say we are better off than others? Like those houses, life is impermanent, and it is up to us to make the most of it.
These houses may never pass the test of time. The road construction leaves the houses covered in a sheet of dust, and due to the raising of the road, the houses seem even more tucked away. The socializing with neighbors that once took place on the pavement, when in the evenings, families brought out plastic chairs and the kids ran around, has now been brought to a halt because of the roadwork. The houses will soon be gone, or so it seems. Finally travelers will see the great oceans and vast skies.
Yet, these houses, no matter how small they are, or how fragile they are, are homes to their occupants. Sure, very few have furniture, very few have TVs or fridges. Yet, when the fisherman can see land from far in to the seas, his catch ready to be sold, it is that house of wood planks that his heart yearns for. It may not be a palace, but to him, it is home. He finds comfort in the chair that needs repairs, the cracked plates, the clothes that need to be replaced. For it is not through wealth or materialistic goods that a house becomes a home. It is through the love one has for another, the sharing of a life, that a house becomes a home.
This is why we must remember that no one is better off than the other. We often look at people and say 'pau' or sin, we feel sorry for people, we pity them. Yet, who are we to do that?
'Pau' is just what it is in English; sin. The way Sri Lankans say,"sin men" implies whatever 'tragedy' one is going through is caused by the sinful deeds done. While poverty may be seen as a consequence of one's past actions, who are we to say they are poor of happiness or love?
Looking at the faces of the occupants of those fragile houses as they sit under the evening sky, one can see happiness. They seem to have, for a moment at least, forgotten the debts, the expenses, the alcoholic men, the screaming kids, the clothes that need washing. Instead they laugh and talk. Those are not practiced smiles, worn for a camera and not out of happiness. They may not wear shimmering gowns or be chauffeured around in a shiny new car. And yet, they are happy.
Thus who are we to judge? Who are we to say we are better off than others? Like those houses, life is impermanent, and it is up to us to make the most of it.
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