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Dear
Coz Dear Coz,
Dear So Sad Shenike,
Dear ABCDEFG, (letter withheld on request) Dear Coz,
Dear C.K, Dear Coz, Dear
Worried Hearted Guy, Get to know her. As long as you don't rush headlong into an affair, I'm sure your parents wouldn't mind. No one's going to know as long as you keep it to yourself. So be bold and give her a ring. Talking over the phone is easier than a face-to-face meeting, so give it a shot. All the best! Design
your future In Sri Lanka,
more or less every school leaver ends up studying Computer or Management.
What about the born designers, or aspiring ones, who have creative
talent just waiting to be discovered? Studying fashion
abroad would be the only other option, but with a 'big price to
pay', of course. Now young people with the gift of creativity get
the chance of pursuing their dream right here. The New York School
of Visual Arts (NYSOVA) is an institution which is filling the void
present in higher education in the field of design. The school
was the brainchild of the Managing Director, Ms. Linda Speldewinde.
Wanting to create a platform where budding creative minds could
develop their talents, she invited an Italian fashion designer Mr.
Tiziano Picogna to head the school. He is now a visiting lecturer.
The director of the school at present is Ms. Annette Wendling Willeke,
an Interior Designer and Architect from Germany. The faculty consists
of about 10 lecturers some who are European, while the others are
Lankans qualified abroad. The institution
which opened in November last year, has about 26 students at present.
The school conducts one-year, full time diplomas in three areas
of Visual Arts. The school plans to begin Degree programmes next
year, affiliated to the Virginia Commonwealth University in the
United States. As a part of
their practical work, the students need to submit three collections,
where the first two parts would include illustrations and models
of a creative idea or theme. The third part would require them to
actually stitch and produce three items of clothing for that theme.
These speciments would then be exhibited at the school itself. "This
is to create a portfolio," said Ms. Willeke. According to
the Director of the school, the emphasis is on the art foundation,
which includes figure drawings of live models and still life models,
general history of the Arts and Composition. The students are also
taught graphic design and are familiarized with computer programmes
such as Coral Draw, Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator and Macro Media
Flash. The school will hold an open day on August 17, where they plan to introduce themselves to the public. Admission is free and all are welcome. NYSOVA also plan to open a gallery on August 27, at the school premises itself. The gallery would be for young, aspiring artists who do not usually get a chance of exhibiting their creations. A non-profit undertaking, the artists' shows would be presented and marketed, courtesy NYSOVA. The
ten pound note The weekend
was only hours away and even though in typical English style it
was bound to be wet and miserable, she welcomed the break. These five
days, as well as making her fatigued with the constant reading and
sitting down, had drained a lot out of her. Waking up that early
to get the bus, fitting into the new environment and wading through
wave upon wave of new technical jargon was taking its toll. It was
her first real job after all and the years at University did not
help much either. It was only by the end of the fourth day that
some of it had started to make sense. She would finish
work at five to catch the only bus back to her new home away from
home. In the evenings, chilly English winds carried Home News into
her room through the window. They'd leave behind the anguishing
smells of stringhoppers and chicken curry made with real coconut
milk or of luscious lamprais. It reminded her of how the streets
must be lined with red rambutan and dark mangosteens now. She would
then let her mind wander, like a dog without a leash, and embark
on wishful thinking. Nothing was
too different when this day had started and, as usual, she went
first to the Ladies Toilet to redo her hair and smooth out the creases
on her shirt. And that was when she found it. On the floor, right
under the automatic hand dryer - A bright, crisp ten-pound note.
It was still neatly folded. The last time
they had found money like that was in her father's office some years
ago. She was visiting his office for the first time and they found
the money on the marble staircase that led up to his floor. Her
father split it between her and her sister and told them that they
could do whatever they wanted with it. They had both put it as an
offering in church and their parents had been pleasantly surprised. Today she wanted
someone else to have it. Someone she thought might like the extra
cash to take his kids to McDonalds or buy his wife a present. Besides,
she slyly assured herself, must it not be better to pass it on to
someone worthy? So, she strategically placed it near her waste paper
basket to make it look like someone had dropped it and waited for
their cleaner. Their cleaner
was a tall, happy man without a care in his heart. He sang as he
did his rounds and chatted endlessly to anyone who took the time
and was never short of a 'Good Morning' even on the worst mornings
ever! And so, that's how everyone knew him - hardly any meat on
his bones but always a tune on his lips. He never complained
or grumbled. He just emptied the bins - the chocolate wrappers,
orange peels, crushed bits of paper, pencil shavings, tissue - lined
them again and went on his way. There were
thoughts battling inside her. She could have
left it where she found it. As it is, it was wrong for her to take
the money in the first place. Or she could have tried to find the
owner. But she argued with herself. It wouldn't hurt anyone, she
thought. It was only ten pounds after all. She was just a student
working for a short time but the permanent employees of this place
raked home the millions and ten pounds to them was like a drop in
the ocean. When he came
today, she turned around to face the other computer screen to allow
him to take it quietly. She knew he had seen it. It was even better
because the rest of the team had gone for a tea break. It was just
the two of them. He went about his work as usual but suddenly the
humming stopped. He didn't speak to her as he left. He just walked
away like he had swallowed a fish. And the note
was gone and suddenly, she felt successful for the whole of five
minutes. She could not
judge if she was wrong for having put him to the test. She was no
'Robin Hood' she thought. She herself felt guilty for having picked
it up. She couldn't be dishonest even if she was paid to. The other
time, at the Kebab shop, they had forgotten to ask her for the money
but she could not walk away. But this? This wasn't stealing, was
it? Also, if she
cared so much, she asked herself, why had she not used her OWN money?
But it was too late for questions now. He had taken it. Two hours had
gone by and no one thought it strange that Bob returned to the already
clean office. His keys jingling. Awkward smile. They were all
too busy behind the screens to notice. All except one and she knew
what this was about. He walked in like he had missed cleaning some
desks and came around to her corner. He hovered
for a bit and bent down over the bin. With a quick
flick, placed the note back again. He looked around quickly to check
if anyone had seen it and was freed. She felt ashamed
for this little test and knew what she had to do next. It didn't
belong to her either. Then he wheeled
his garbage bag again. He seemed lighter. And there was
his tune again - louder than before. |
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