Cupid strikes out

By Ruhanie Perera and Laila Nasry

Sometimes divorce is the solution- the only solution in sight. If you look at marriage in a sporting angle it's like playing doubles. If the result is constant failure because the the partners are incompatible then what's the purpose of sticking together. 

But if there are other people involved like children then the decision to divorce needs further consideration. However staying together for the sake of children is not all that great if it's going to mean putting the children through raised voices and constant fights and threats. You know kids are much hardier than they are perceived to be and at times are able to bear the pain of parting better.

Divorce is likely when the two people in the marriage don't know each other well. All along they have been on their best behaviour and once married the true personalities emerge causing much friction. I think being tight fisted and selfish, as in not caring for others leave alone your partner, can lead to divorce. 

But it is difficult to point out which sex is more prone to it because it depends on the individual. 
Shahila (21):

I feel if a couple has a problem, they should go to a counsellor and try to talk about their problems and make their marriage work. Failing that, if one partner is really intolerable then the other one should not have to suffer alone. 

Unfortunately, what is happening now is that divorce is becoming an easy way out. 

I think a man is more prone to divorce - judging from the cases I know of. I feel a woman can keep things together, unlike a man who would break off for the slightest thing and resort to divorce his wife. Women are more capable of 'running the show'. 

If both parties know that their marriage is not working there's no point in sticking together because of what their family and friends think. And I don't believe that a couple should stick together for the kids' sake. Sometimes they can cause more harm by being together. 

Divorce, in my opinion, should not be an option when going into a marriage. Instead it should be the final alternative to a bad marriage.
Shehani (name changed) 23:

Getting a divorce depends on the situation. If the two people can't work things out, then the only option is to separate with out further pain. 

However, when children are involved the bad news should be broken gently and in a delicate manner with reasons explained to them. Both the mother and the father should show the same affection. There should be no competition between them to win the sole affection of the children. 

Unfaithfulness, lack of understanding and trust are the main reasons which lead to divorce. Both the men and women are to blame. Sometimes a man has a fling, though at times it is short term it is enough to drive the woman to look for affection, security, stability elsewhere. Women look for permanent relationships, so inevitably the marriage breaks up. It's the fault of both. 
Vivek (name changed) 26:

Divorce is not an easy way out - at least it shouldn't be. But at times when you just can't take it, I feel a person should be able to opt for a divorce. 

If you can't get on with the woman you're married to and your marriage is definitely on the rocks, then I suppose, divorce is okay. I feel it's better to get out, than stay together and be miserable - or make each other's lives miserable. 

An unfaithful wife is a reason to get a divorce. If one partner has been unfaithful, then he/she has betrayed your trust. There's no way a marriage can continue after that. 

You can't exactly say who is more prone to divorce. Both men and women are pushed to get a divorce for various reasons. It all boils down to the situation.
Kaushalya Weeraratne

Divorce at the end of the day depends on human relationships. It's an option that should be made available for a failed marriage. 

As a third person who has observed many divorce cases, I feel it is mainly due to incomaptiblity. At times you wonder how in the world did these two people get together in the first place. 

One of the reasons for divorce is impotency on either side. At times one spouse is involved with someone else and wants out. 

One can't really say which side is to blame. It's a 50-50 thing. It all depends on the individual and the situation.
Hiran (name changed) 27:

I think it's a very sad word to use. No human being should face it. It breaks bonds and brings disharmony. 

People lack understanding, a vital factor that speaks for divorce. Stubborness is another reason. Misunderstanding between people too is to blame. 

I'm not a chauvinist, but I belive that women are very stubborn and don't like giving in. So men retaliate and it results in a broken marriage. Women need to be more broad minded. I'm not saying men are not so. Flexibility would be a great help for a marriage. 

Pink Cadillac cruising down the street

By Aditha Dissanayake

Having sat behind the wheel whenever the road had been clear or when my father had been in a benevolent mood, I had thought I was competent enough to get through. True, my father's blood often came to boiling point whenever he consented to give me the wheel; he was furious with me for not moving my right foot onto the brake pedal when there was a bend on the road. "But that wasn't a bend. Just a slight curve" I would argue and raise his anger several levels higher.

My brother teased me continuously - like an advertisement on TV - saying I would be given a parking ticket if I didn't press on the accelerator a little harder. True, my reversing was not all that perfect. I needed time to decide which way I should turn the wheel and at what degree; calculations that did not come easy. And there were times when I found it difficult to change gears and steer the wheel at the same time. I would forget to steer while changing gears or it would be the other way round. "Park the car. Change gears and drive again"– suggested a friend over the phone, whose neck stands a fair chance of being throttled the next time I meet him. But since I could make my father's old station wagon move forward without hitting anybody or anything, I thought I would pass.

My examiner thought otherwise. And my father wholeheartedly agreed with him. I didn't have the heart to blame him either. Not after I had tried to move forward without releasing the handbrake. "Something is wrong with the engine. I think it has to be "thallu-started", I had told the bespectacled middle-aged man seated next to me. "Try releasing the handbrake" he had grunted, trying to stifle a yawn. And not after I had signaled to the left, turned right, and realizing my mistake pressed on the brakes. I still remember how I had watched with an open mouth and pretended not to hear the "dong" sound that had come when my examiner's head hit the dashboard. It was only natural that an "F" should come effortlessly to the nib of his pen.

I go through the rigmarole again, which includes taking photos and passing the theory part of the exam as well. And I fail again. This time I do not pass because I fail to stop for a man standing on a pedestrian crossing. I fume with frustration. I could have sworn he had simply been standing there, probably waiting for a friend without the slightest inclination to cross the road. On my third attempt I stop in front of the yellow lines even when they are deserted and finally find myself deemed fit to hold a driver's license.

I get a loan from my "personal bank"- my parents, with the promise of paying the money back in installments once I find a permanent job, and become the proud owner of a four-wheel contraption called a car. In my eyes it looks better than a Cadillac. But in reality it's a Volkswagen - slow and turtle-looking and gulping petrol by the gallon.

Grrrrrrrr.Aaaaaarrrr.Screeeeech! I begin to roam the city in my "Pink Cadillac".For six months Lady Luck stays with me. Then last week she lets me down. On my way home from work I stop at a "cool spot" for a late evening thambili, and lock the door with the key inside. I narrate my plight to the Mudalali and soon find myself seated on a bench in front of the boutique while six men divide themselves into two groups and try to break open the doors of my car. Meanwhile every man passing by stops to find out what is happening, inserts his hand into his pocket drags out a bunch of keys and tries to fit them into my lock. I watch in amazement as the number of men clustered round the car increases to double figures. Finally a driver of a three-wheeler manages to raise the black plastic knob by picking at the lock with a piece of wire. I give them smiles of deep, deep gratitude. All you have to do is ask for help. The city is brimming with Samaritans.

So far I have not had a flat tyre or been given a speeding-ticket. At the rate I drive the latter is unlikely. As for the former, all I can say is "touchwood".

Meanwhile, keep your eyes open when you are next on the road. Toot. Toot. Screeeeech. (Quick, jump into the drain) That might be me coming in my "Pink Cadillac".

Transfusion for a mother's soul

By Priyeni de Silva McLeod

Colombo was not prepared for a Dengue epidemic in 1997 and many died. Nadine was 12 plus when she developed a high fever; we were advised to admit her to a hospital. There, her raging fever subsided. Testing for Dengue done daily, proved negative and after a few days she was discharged. Just before leaving the hospital Nadine vomited some blood. Medical staff sprang to action. No one had time for a mother's dilemma but I did not have to be told, I knew my child had Dengue.

The next 5-6 hours are a blur. Doctors, blood transfusion, nasal-gastric tube, saline, my child slipped into unconsciousness.

Prof. Stella de Silva was there when Nadine was born, she knew what a priceless treasure this little girl was, yet, she could only tell me gently, "I can't give you any hope. In about six days we will see her progress". I had to wait six days to know whether my only child would live.

Black liquid poured out in a steady stream through the nasal-gastric tube. I sat mesmerised, gazing at my child haemorrhaging. My eyes ached through lack of sleep but I stayed rooted to her bedside looking at this unending black stream flowing out of her. Someone died of Dengue in the same hospital.

The love and prayers of friends and family carried us through those days. Our good neighbour, Aunty Bunty started a 24 hour prayer chain for Nadine. Some were fasting and praying. Heaven was bombarded.

After three days the coffee black out-flow turned to greeny brown. As Nadine lay unconscious I sang powerful, positive hymns like "There is healing in the name of Jesus". I sang very softly, into her ear. She never stirred. Two more children died of Dengue-ominous news.

Finally, from the fourth day onwards the out-flow started getting lighter rapidly. Prof. Stella checked her daily but never said that Nadine was recovering even though I would look at her beseechingly, willing her to say it. On the fifth night the liquid was pink and right on cue on the sixth day the outflow was clear. The transfusion was stopped and Prof. Stella announced "She'll live". God had answered those prayers.

Nadine's hair started falling out in tufts, a consequence of a terminal illness. Nadine who had lanky hair got a head full of lovely curls-this was God's gift to a little girl who was a perfect patient. There was no grumbling, no crying, she bore up all those pricks for blood testing without a murmur. Sometimes, a silent tear would roll down her cheek. A girl from her school died of Dengue the week we came home.

Later, she said that she heard me singing to her and was fed-up of listening to the same song so many times. She also heard Dadda tell me "You'd better stop this crying now" and she had asked Jesus not to make me so sad.

Nadine is now a vibrant, willowy adolescent, curls and all. I look at her often and think "God, this is your lovely, lovable miracle, thank you." 

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