The benefits of being a quitter, a bold quitter — I have a habit of quitting things that don’t work for me. I learned this from a young age when I left home at eleven to escape my mentally ill grandmother. I went to a boarding school, hoping to become a clergyman, but I hated it there too. …

丹齐尔·贾亚辛格 3 分钟阅读 我试图忽略自己的感受，但最终厌倦了阅读和思考，所以我靠在床上，在我和橱柜之间留出了空间。 我爬到床底下，拉出一本藏在床垫下的插页。 由于床垫的重量而被折叠和压扁，插页已经变得有折痕。 照片中的裸体模特正躺着，似乎很感兴趣。 我揉揉眼睛放松一下，无法停止盯着她诱人的形象。 每天放学后，我躺在床上，盯着她。 感觉就像我们有私人联系并且感觉非常亲密。 我脱下裤子。 我可以在镜子里看到自己。 我紧紧地抓住我的手，快速地来回移动，直到我的手着地。 我迅速用我附近的纱笼擦拭所有的东西。 在任何人看到我在做什么之前我很快就做到了。 尽管紧张感消失了，我还是感到内疚。 当我收起纱笼时，我意识到我在做这件事时一直在想露丝和拉玛尼，并为自己这样想他们感到羞愧。 ‘现在上帝会怎么看我？ 我已经不值得他照顾了。 如果我今晚死了会怎样？ 我会在地狱里被烧死吗？ 突然，我听到厨房里传来一些声音，比如锅碗瓢盆叮当作响，椰子被磨碎的声音。 我透过窗帘往里看，但没有看到任何人。 于是，我决定看看窗外，看看发生了什么。 我把纱笼藏在床底下，希望到晚上我穿着它睡觉时它会变干。 我闻起来像漂白剂。 我的手很粘，需要洗一下。 我从前门出了房子，走到水井边。 我打来一桶水，喝了一半，然后用剩下的水洗手。 我靠在水井边的墙上。 我净化了肺部的空气，并认定我是这个星球上最糟糕的人。 ‘唯一一个虐待自己的人。 藐视上帝的人。 一个庸俗的男孩。 我为什么会这样？ 为什么上帝要给我这种手淫的诱惑？ ‘为什么我每天都要做这件事？ 我会变瘦吗？ 他们会怀疑我的坏习惯吗？ ‘我会变得不像个男人吗？ 我有一天能结婚吗？ ‘我不会再这样做了。 今天是最后一天； 我是个白痴，竟然陷入了这种诱惑，这种可怕的罪恶，我每天都犯的罪。 我没有自制力。 我感到很无助。 我不再掌控自己的身体。 我的肚子很痛，发出咕咕的声音。 我闭上眼睛，等待这种感觉消失。 我听到妈妈在叫我。 我保持沉默，因为我无法动弹。 我越想“我不会再这样做了”，我就越觉得自己无法真正坚持下去。 ‘为什么我这么弱？ 为什么我不爱我的上帝并远离这些事情呢？ “我不想向神父坦白。 那是不可能的。 我怎样才能祈求上帝宽恕我呢？ “天父，请原谅我”是我对上帝的祈求。 我在没人注意的情况下溜回了家。 我重新检查了房间，确保我的脏纱笼藏在床底下看不见。 天开始黑了。 我希望那天晚上我不会再陷入诱惑。 “也许有一次，也是我最后一次。” 订阅我的故事 https://djayasi.medium.com/subscribe。 图片属于原所有者。

Denzil is a teenager who wants to smoke with his friends but can’t find his skinny vest, which he considers his lucky charm. He searches his room, asks his mother, and even checks the clothes rack, but to no avail. He decides to wear a yellow t-shirt and denim pants instead, hoping they won’t ruin his mood. He sneaks out of his house, avoiding his grandmother and other relatives, and joins his friends near the church. Will he be able to enjoy his evening without his skinny vest? Find out in this short story that explores the challenges of growing up in a conservative society.

How I Express Myself Through Art — I love to draw, but drawing is not the only way to express myself. Sometimes, I take photos of what I see and write about my feelings. When I see something that catches my eye, I approach it and try to capture its essence. This is how I see life…

A Tanka tale of an emigre’s experience in Colombo Rail station — Wooden counters of the past, Memories arise. Iron rods fence the queues and time, Hand-operated tickets chime. Lost in unfamiliar gates, A trio stands, bags of rags, Strangers in the crowd. I offer help, their smiles wide, Guiding them to the southern ride. Platform four, the destination, Train doors open, life in motion, Neglected seats tell tales.

An experience in a train ride. — I was intrigued by the contrast of my bus ride in Sri Lanka, and I wanted to experience a suburban train. The train tracks evoked memories of my childhood trips. So, I found myself at the ticket counters in Colombo station, the central station in the capital. I felt like…

An experience in wilful disruption — Stepping out of your comfort zone and trying new things shows healthy growth — a change that brings energy. This idea struck me as I embraced a wilful disruption to my otherwise first-world view during a recent trip to my old country, Sri Lanka. I stayed in a huge bungalow…

A class monitor and a gymnast take over — The boys rejoiced whenever a teacher did not turn up in class. They knew it would be a free-format class where they could do whatever they wanted. Shirley, the class monitor, took over, acting like he was the teacher in charge. Shirley’s command of the classroom was like a lullaby…

My mother was her parents’ second child, and my father was his parents’ second and last. I stayed in my father’s family home for the first four years. Next to us, my uncle and his family, with three children, shared the same ancestral land in a detached home. We grew…