One year at the Nation
One year ago, I sat waiting at the reception area of the Nation office. I can't remember what was going through my mind as the noises of the outside world kept away the fear I should have felt. Maradana was new to me. I always considered it this tucked away corner of Colombo that was best avoided. I didn't know the people at the office who kept walking past, laughing and talking with their friends. I sat there for a long time, and finally one of the ladies I met the previous day told me it was unlikely the 'boss' would be in that day and I might as well just start work. I was given the seat of a lady who was on leave, and my first job was to translate a story. Since I was in grade nine, when I was maybe thirteen years, I had this dream to be a journalist. I had spoken with two of my mother's friends, both journalists, and decided it was the best job in the world. Somehow by the end of my school life, that dream had been pushed to the back of my mind. It didn...