• Random Moments of Life
  • Relationships
  • poetry or something of the sort.
  • UNFCCC
  • Uncategorized
  • Fiction
  • Guest Bloggers

Vositha's Blog

~ a story of life, love and other things

Vositha's Blog

Monthly Archives: January 2011

An evening with “a” Freak

26 Wednesday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

“Things I do for you!” he said, laughing and holding on to her hand. The fingers were intertwined and he had a firm grip on them.

She smiled. “May be I will sleep with you if you manage to refrain from making fun or cracking a stupid joke about it for six months.”

“Ah, today is 25th of January! So that would be..”

She did not let him finish the sentence, grabbing the menu that lay next to her with her free hand, swiftly brought it to contact with his head. He appeared offended for a second, and then broke into laughter again.

It was surprising how comfortable she felt around him. Despite all the talk about dating and not dating, getting hurt and who’s getting hurt. It had all come to her hand ending in his and he being his freaky self commenting on how nice his skin looked.

“Some things never change!” she told herself, contemplating on the freakiness of his which has evolved over the years and which she had grown to love of late.

She found it amusing to imagine the reaction one who knew the two of them from years back would have on seeing them holding hands and actually making conversation. It was agreed by both that there would a few jaw-drops and many a “ Oh my God!”and “ No way!”.

She even remembered her friend teasing her asking “ so someone is in love with the freak?” and her brushing away such thought in the most nonchalant manner a few weeks back.

Well what could she say, strange things do happen once in a while, and they seem to happen to her ever too often.

“OK you got 20 minutes more with me!” she announced. Laughing on remembering that every time they meet, for some reason she checks time just 20 minutes before the driver was to come pick her.

Goodbyes always be cause for confusion, every occasion. A hug, a kiss, or both? May be today be the exception.

“So when are you coming back?” he asks.

“ Sooner than you think!” she answered gently brushing her lips against his and with a smile.

He smiled and then kissed her back.

” Never Let Me Go”

25 Tuesday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

A story of love, childlike, that seems not to realise its futility nor its fragility. Love of two and the desire of another not to be left behind. The story of two who fight to live the moments spared to them, and the effort of the other to put things right.

It be a story of love that ends in loss, prevented of the happy ending one as I, would await. A story that leaves one wondering WHY!?

Why fall in love to feel so hurt and separated? Why be damned as one be, and be damned again knowing that you cannot be with the one you love, (despite being ready to do anything so that it be a possibility)? Why are we at times so incapable of love though we wish to be in love!

Why do we separate those in love, merely because we wish to be part of something, not to be that lonely creature left out and crying in the cold? Or the heat whichever it be.

Watching the movie of three humans who were destined to be “donors” and have a life that be curtailed to the duration of donation of organs was depressing, dragging me down and damaging to my very few brain cells that be bestowed with emotional capacity. Not merely because of the grotesque nature of creating humans for accessing their organs, nor the manner they are discarded when their use be fulfilled. ( though it needs be noted that they are depressing as well) It be mainly due to the disappointing manner the story ends with no hope for those two creatures or humans, who be treated like slaughter house sheep. It tortures one to watch these two lovers, separated once, be united to witness their hopes being shattered. Again!

Is it not evil to give people hope and then shatter their dreams?

Would it not be better to leave them with no hope, so that their broken souls would not be mended for a short while to be broken again?

When one knows not of aspiring for something, one lives better the despicable state. The happiness one knows not would not be the unhappiness when it is felt and experienced, and then deprived.

Would not life be better if one did not feel those momentous, short lived, random, and stolen seconds of fleeting euphoria to be woken up to a reality of bitterness, sadness and nostalgia?

Would not life be happier if you were not in love with something or someone that you could never attain?

Or should I say would life be a better place if one never fell in love, never looked for that ideal partner and just lived for the moment, with whom one shared a fleeting second of desire and not the comprehension nor comfort from within?

Would life be simple if one never dreamt, never knew what happiness was or what sense of satisfaction was?

Life is suddenly more depressing than it was in the morning.

I turn to Rathindra, for answers as to why love stories of present never end in happiness. His “profound” response being “when did love stories have happy endings? Romeo and Juliet to .. Jane and Mark Wilde, they always end bad! A great love story ends in tragedy!” I swore silently that the day he does write a “love story” to buy the whole stock myself and make them “perished goods”. In my thoughts it would prevent more depression for those souls who still believe in happy endings. Second resolution reached to commit homicide the second he quotes “Chucking the Dragon” again for an explanation or anything else!

Anyway, thank you Kazuo Ishiguro for depressing me! Let me turn to “The Budda of Suburbia” with hopes of better thoughts.

“ Be the flame, not the moth!”

24 Monday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Random Moments of Life

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

be the fire not the moth, gullible

He was tired of all the calls that fell on his phone. Two women who called him simultaneously. He would give them both the same reply. “yes baby”, “of course baby”, “ I will call you as soon as I can baby”.

It was a pattern, that required no conscious activity of his brain. They had turned habits or reflexes. He had no sense of guilt about it. Why should he? One had been told that he had no commitment toward her, that she was a mere being of pleasure and that he was being generous with the allocation of his spare time. That should explain things, he thought. Well no, correction, he vehemently believed.

The bunch of kids who were discussing environment and saving the planet he found ridiculous. “ Be the flame, not the moth” he lectures one of the girls. She looks perplexed, and looks at another, seated in front, who explains, “ means be the attraction and not be lead to destruction due to your attraction”. The younger one still continued to have no grasp of the matter, looked blank as she did prior to explanation, and noted in her head only of a “moth” and a “flame”. He found this creature amusing, gullible, a possible prey for another time.

He tells her, “if I were still in school, I would ask you out. Not because I love you or something, just to see how it would be to date someone like you”. The other, the interpreter of “the moth and the fire” lets out a sigh.

“Will you please shut up!” she asks him.

He looks at her, offended. “Why? I was just been sincere! You know me, I don’t bullshit!”

She nods, and decides it is preferable to remain silent.

The younger one with increased interest asks “So have you done it with your girlfriend?”

“Done what?”

“You know,.. done that!” she says, giving an air of knowing of what she spoke.

He laughs, asks her “With which one?”

She seems taken aback. That was a response unexpected for her.

The moderator reacts, intervention for prevention of corruption of ignorant and “innocent” minds.

“Can you both shut up please! I am having a headache, and please talk about something you understand!”

She pays no attention with her eyes to either, merely raises her voice through mouthfuls of hoppers and katta sambol.

“ I know about it! I know Karama Sutra” the younger girl retorts.

Yes “Karma Sutra” it is, he adds with a wink at the younger girl, as he reaches for his pack of smokes.

The Option

24 Monday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Random Moments of Life, Relationships

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cigarettes, life, smoking

She watched him, seated with one leg sticking out, cigarette in hand. He always made her day. Misfortune be that she never saw much of him, of late. In between two heart failures, almost stabbing himself to death, and collision of his forehead on metal, ( things that were inexplicable in her world) he seemed to be in good spirits. Of course add to it looking frail, being skinnier, bouts of coughing between sentences, and two women who took turns in calling him. But he was back to living this “ life is short, but it is a while!” life.

“So what’s new?” he asks.

“Nothing much, just the usual”. She tells.

Her usual comment. Not out of dislike for self expression, rather due to non comprehension of what be the latest in her so called life. Of late she had lost touch of it. Funnily she seemed to even have a “boyfriend “who was supposedly in need of time to “sort out his fuck buddies”.

She had abandoned her efforts wasted on trying to convince this “boyfriend” to explain to relevant parties that they were NOT together. He refuses, thinks he is cute and funny in doing so. And audaciously explains “ I am liking this too much to tell her that!”

Yes people did state that she had too much tolerance for nonsense. But his manipulative humour was sadly starting to get on her nerves. She had made up her mind, over the weekend, to knock some sense into him but she did not seem to have reached his level of reasoning.

The two parties in contention would eventually know when the time be right. Till such moment she chose that they be blissfully ignorant of reality and assume that her “boyfriend” was dating a bitch.

She had no time to waste on such. Especially now that he seems to be entangled in sorting out his “screw list”. Such consumption of valuable time, when it was not of her concern. Definitely not. She had already clarified that she had no interest in being contacted by any on the list, and to be questioned by any either. She preferred to believe that her mind had been clear to him, though she knew he did have moments of attention deficit disorder.

“Ok, what’s on your mind? Spill it!” he drags her back to the world of smoke and sanity or insanity.

“Sorry. Got a little lost in my thoughts!”

“I noticed!” He adds, laughs, then coughs.

“Seriously!” She stopped at that, made her famous face of annoyance, knowing very well that whatever she may add, would fall on deaf ears.

She wished she could separate those fingers that entangled around the smoke stick. Smoke, pain, booze and scars there be in abundance. His phone rings, he picks and tells a girl that he will call when he gets home, which in this case would be at a time not too near.

Her phone reacts to his, an SMS. Author speaks of “epiphany”, “writer’s block” then asks if she likes poetry. Yeah yeah , whatever! The charm of those overused lines, words were waning. Their effect being lost on her, with all the bullshit she was being fed. She was fed up, resolute not to respond to such wasted words.

“Him?” he asks.

“Yes.” She nods.

“Ok, you are easily played!” he laughs.

“This is why I never hit on you. Did not wasn’t to lose what we had.! He pauses. “When you like someone, you don’t need time. You know it! This dude, well sorry to say he is a jackass! Just tell him to f off!”

She could not but laugh with this logic of his. There be no fault when one said, it takes one to know one. In this instance a jackass.

Despite a “jackass” she was glad he was there, that messed up head of his, full of random facts, and his pockets filled with phones and cigarettes.

She rested her head on his shoulder, his hand wrapped around hers. It was natural, the two of them and such moments. Two lost souls, two “shit magnets” as he put it. She felt the bones against her cheek, his frailness, the ever familiar tobacco smell.

“Let it go, he does not deserve you. You are no one’s option. You should be the option!” He looks at her, smiles. Then adds. “ By the way, I love you!”

She knew he did. She knew it for a while. She was scared for him. The incessant cough, the 40 smoke sticks and the stubble of a week to which he paid no heed, worried her, made her want to shake him by his shoulders till sense befell upon him. But then she wondered if his state could survive such.

“Talking to you is like hearing myself speak at times.” She says lifting her head from his bones.

He turns, plants a kiss on her cheek.

“I missed you. It sure has been a while!”

Yes, it had been. And she knew it had been too long. She had no knowledge when she would see him again. “if” she would see him again.

He turns, takes out a cigarette. Matchbox, snap, fire, puffs of smoke, tobacco smell and him in his own Zen mode.

Back to that world filled with smoke, and anticipation of booze in a few hours.

As smoke filled the empty space between them, she looked away.

Conversations, Confusions and Clawing

22 Saturday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Random Moments of Life, Relationships

≈ 1 Comment

He was full of words. That was what he was full of. Funny she never spoke a word to him for years. Now they flew in torrents.

Words, some meaningless, others meaningful. Deprived be the ability of distinction between the two. A talent to be mastered, or not. Sentences full of “and stuff”, “deeply think about this” and other stuff.

Books there be in abundance. He would stick one under her nose, telling that it be the best.

“She reads love stories!” she tells him, her friend chirps away on the phone, the cover of “Chucking the dragon” zooming in front of her eyes, with his face behind it with comic expression, a possible distraction but not enough an attraction.

“ I said love story, not porn story” she says.

“ I didn’t write it” he says.

Conversations, counter arguments and many confusions. Cigarettes, puffs of smoke and clawing of nails on skin though boredom.

“You bite too?!” He asks.

“Now you are branded” she adds happy with her nail art.

“Give me a little time, I need to get rid of my fuck buddies” he tells and turns pages of “Suicide Club”.

Love Happens

16 Sunday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Relationships

≈ 7 Comments

I remember a year ago making travel plans. I was smitten, filled with illusions. With all forms of wishes and imaginary hopes in head, I would try to decide when my flight dates would be, annoyed with all the postponing, feeling guilty about one that was waiting for me away from home.

I returned, disillusioned, faithless, betrayed, afraid of what reality be, vowing never to love again. It is funny how easily one decides to hate the world around, turn a heartless creature when the heart’s broken.

One breaks your heart, you decide to hurt the world. One fills you with lies, you decide to doubt the world. One makes you believe love is bullshit, and you believe, without scruples, because your heart is not ready to let go of that bitterness.

You hate any concept of relationship, emotions, and even having a personal life. It becomes worse when you fail to see that the one who did make you faithless, is a happy believer building faith with another.

Letting go is a struggle, the feelings piled in, vented over phone calls. Random dates where you find the lamest jerks with whom you are sure you will not get attached nor be slightly moved. You know you should have expressed those emotions, the hurt, at least the anger, but then nothing comes out. You feel too robotic. You have not shed tears ever since.. well you have no clue when. You have no clue when you unleashed your anger! May be reach out and smash a couple of things, if that ever did help. You have no clue whether it would, because you never reached out. You never did smash that vase nor feel that emotion boil in, suppressed while you smile acting the world is a very happy place. You tell yourself, where there is hope, anything is possible. You hope you will survive and you know you will survive those vile emotions. You are deprived even of the slightest energy to loath.

You shame yourself on seeing the man who made you that bitch, that heartless creature you have become, by merely managing to tell him, “you were an asshole, but then, the world is full of assholes!” and you hug him! Yes you hug him, thinking you are the better being, and watch the sunrise for a change. A sunrise not a sunset.

But inside you hope this would be the end, the end of those smoking sessions, the meaninglessness and the emptiness. You wonder what you ever saw in him, what the other woman saw in him, what possessed him to hurt you so bad, when all you could say “it’s alright” each time you were hurt.

But just when you have made yourself believe that you are incapable of emotions, there be one who proves that you still do get hurt. Ironically one needs to feel hurt to feel one’s self, one’s existence. You need to feel that emptiness at the pit of the stomach, that feeling of emptiness knowing you have lost someone, and that you do care and wish the circumstances were different and you could have made things right.

Yes it is lame at times, as to how the tiniest things in life make you realise bigger things. Feeling of emptiness of not seeing a witty line on the phone, someone not calling back when you just dial out of sheer boredom seem very important to you all of a sudden. You curse yourself for feeling that fragility once again, the being of the vulnerable being.

But then at the same time grateful are you, fir that capacity to believe that love does happen. well not this very moment, I mean eventually. You are indebted to that emptiness that hit the pit of your stomach for making you realise that you do feel something again, maybe not love but nostalgia of what it was and how simple it was to feel comfortable.

Most of all you are happy that you have faith to believe that love does happen, not today, and may be not with him, but one day, with someone, it will happen.

And despite that emptiness you feel on missing someone, you realise that you have taken a step forward, from that self imposed indifference, and that you are ready to take that leap again despite the hurt that remain.

You do take the leap of faith in what you believe again. Though it would take time, you know the wounds would heal, cz you feel again!

PS. for someone who does not believe in blogs, and is “full of shit” but managed to make me believe.

Would you still like me if I were homosexual?

15 Saturday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

I always wondered why people were so obsessed with others sexuality. Sure it is out of sheer curiosity, and that gossip inclination we all have within ourselves to know what be the others greatest darkest secret. But then again the last few weeks I have been party to a flow of discussions on people’s sexual tendencies.

I am not completely assured whether my increased participation is due to people assuming that I be a lesbian, whether my colleague questioning another person’s sexuality or whether this be merely due to my presence in many a human rights forum where sexual preferences and their equal rights were pronounced frequently with much emphasis. But the topic keeps looming in my head, haunting and posing a million questions.

“What would it be to live as a homosexual in Sri Lanka?”

I get constant smses, each time R is at a meeting with reference to “rainbow brigade” and I recall one instance where he was so frustrated at a meeting where I called to check if he was okay. I found his rapidity of getting stressed in the presence of homosexuals a little surprising and at the same time quite troubling. And later I found it quite ridiculous one day when he told me “I thought you were into women!”

The thought that crossed my mind instantaneously was Aruni’s remark I have the “gay vibe”. Whatever it be this special “vibe” which she notices in me, I fail to decode this difference in me.

It is quite funny how much homo phobic people live in Sri Lanka. Most believe that it is a choice and that you could actually whip this “unnatural” tendency out of individuals if one tries really hard. Though I was not much entertained when my ex boyfriend decided to declare one day that he cheated on me with a man, I do not at any instance support the stupid belief that one can actually chase away the inclination one has towards the same sex. It is shocking that in modern times people believe in such possibilities.

A thing I constantly ask myself is the question “What if I were a lesbian?” I always wondered how my close friends would take it. As Aruni would tell me once, “it would not bother me if you were a lesbian, it would not even bother me even if you hit on me, it would only bother me if you did not take no for an answer!” ( A colleague pointed out that it would bother her only if I were a lesbian and were not to hit on her)

As much as I appreciate her openness on the matter, I feel that if someone was truly a homosexual the way one would look at it would not be the same as the when one believes the person you are forming hypothesis on is heterosexual.
I think any opinion uttered on the assumption that one is heterosexual would be tilted towards optimism than the reaction received in reality when that individual is proven to be homosexual. One doubts if there be the same amount of comfort that you feel in sharing a bed or taking cloths off in front of the other.

Perplexed I be as to what I am to expect of the world around me, if one days I were to say “sorry I am not interested in men, I prefer women!” What would their perception be of me if those were uttered? Horror or mild indifference to be expected?
Wonder who would still choose to be my friend. Wonder who would like me( this is among those who like me at present despite my so called bitchiness.)

Would the world still be for me filled with rainbow shades or would I be from that “rainbow brigade”.

People do change! v Do people change?

13 Thursday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

I always believed in people having the capacity to change. I have always been taught that everyone deserves a second chance. But does this really make sense?

The more I think of it, the lesser I start believing in the fact that people do change. There is always something within us we hold inside. Is change permanent or a mere form of adaptation.

Someone asked me a few days back “what if I try to be not full of shit”. He was answering to my accusation that he is “full of shit”. It hit me at that moment, that it is all an effort. An effort at suppressing what we really are so that we be accepted by those or the majority beings. Hide those “flaws” that they hate, or those mannerisms that “they” loath.

“Oh pray, bring my shroud of hypocrisy for I hence forth shall play that role as be required of me!”

What am I trying to say here, well the simple fact that, of late I really do not believe that people can change. The instances that I did believe in that capacity, it just dragged me down to dumps where depression be my only companion where despise would have been a better option.
Speaking to Sonali last night I realised that she and I have both believed in the theory of rehabilitation, and second chances and unfortunately drowned in our own disappointments of our own positive expectations of answers of affirmation and willingness.

In short humans make an effort as far as there be an incentive for their adaptation. The moment of its disappearance, we become those reptile brain creatures filled with mere survival instinct threading upon the weaklings for the gloating of our egos and the empowerment of our dominance.

Humans are mere vicious creatures full of deceit, hypocrisy and suppressed and frustrated vile.

Suppression does not help those that are in frustration.
How long can one “try not to be full of shit?” Is that even an option? A mere flicker of hope in the human capacity of change and adaptation? Where does hope separate from fact, and then fact from fiction? Where rest those answers to those questions never voiced but remain forever silent?
Too many questions and too few answers.

For those on a quest for revival of that positive side of those disappointments, brave will you be when the disappointment is thrust upon you like the cold on Colombo nights where beggars shiver with sheer helplessness cursing their hope that there be one day, where all be well, due to the mere blessings of hope turned self crushing reality.

Boredom

09 Sunday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Sometimes you think you have something worthwhile, but then you have not. Sometimes you think that you have found someone worthwhile, and then you are merely or immensely disappointed.

I on the other hand, am neither.
I am just plain bored!

I have always known that my span of interest was minute and that I have not had much patience of things that bore me. But then again this was faster than I imagined!

One cause of boredom seems the sheer interest he holds for playing safe, not being affected and whole indifference he seems to be carrying over his shoulders. ( slightly annoying too I must say!)

I wish for once people would be spontaneous, say how they feel and actually pronounce with articulation to be heard and felt!
Well if that was the case, this story would have had a different ending. Or would it have?

May be not! Why waste on this? I resign on the “subject”.

Hats off to Sonali, it definitely was not worth it!

Definitely not all the drama it entailed!

Zillion and Three Reasons to Love Someone!

06 Thursday Jan 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life, Relationships

≈ Leave a comment

Someone told me today that he loves me for zillion and three reasons. I asked him to name the three. After an effort here is his answer.

“One, you teach me new words” ( he was referring to me talking in legal terms after a long day where I was in a very complaining mood)

“Two, well two ,.. (the wait a little too long) “I shall think very deeply about this.” ( His answer to many things when he lacks an appropriate answer, or his sentence does not end with “and stuff”.)

Don’t take me wrong, he does come up with some of the most entertaining conversations most of the time, but I think of late I bug the poor man too much for him to get anything out of his mouth.

Earlier today it dawned on me that I was rapidly developing the capacity to predict most of what would be his responses to my retorts.

“ This is like sustaining a conversation with myself. I don’t see the point of this “relationship”. I could actually do the same without being in a “relationship” with you!”

His response to it “that’s offensive!”. ( In all calmness. Have to admit the man does have some patience of late. Quite surprising when I think of him and how he was a few years ago. Honest to God, I could not stand the sight of him.)

I tell him that a better answer to my complaint would have been,
“Yes, but who would get the coffee in the morning!” ( With all due respect to my situation of sustaining a conversation by myself, I could not snuggle up in bed and then get the warm coffee to fly into my arms. With great precision of having just “one” spoon of sugar.) Yes this situation sounds like a very twisted form of inverted domestic violence, but then again, it needs be noted this conversation was not intended to make sense. None of our conversations are,  not of late. Not sure if it be cause for celebration or for condolence. Presumably a topic for the next nonsensical conversation that would emanate in the near future.

However coming back o the zillion and three reasons he says with sudden enlightenment the third reason was “you think for me!” (This was following my provision of a second thought for “loving” me. I told him that I am able to make him laugh and cough at the same time. The weirdness of the situation due to a non ending season of being down with cough.)

Anyhow, am I “offended” at him not being able to utter the reasons?

I don’t blame the man, in all certainty for getting tongue tied in elaborating his reasons. I think he was making an honest effort at making sense out of nonsense.

Something I have realised of late is that one does not need zillion and three reasons to love someone, not even three, just that feeling of knowing you love that person. Sometimes and at most times, that feeling is sufficient for you to know things will fall in place, eventually and though all is not well, things shall be well. ( Yes I can be opitmistic)

On that note, I hung up and turned my attention on the beautiful yellow roses on my table.

Life is good, even without a zillion reasons to be loved.

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • May 2022
  • June 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • April 2019
  • June 2018
  • September 2017
  • June 2017
  • April 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • June 2016
  • April 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • November 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • March 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • August 2013
  • July 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • May 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011
  • September 2011
  • August 2011
  • July 2011
  • June 2011
  • May 2011
  • April 2011
  • March 2011
  • February 2011
  • January 2011
  • December 2010
  • November 2010
  • October 2010
  • September 2010
  • August 2010
  • July 2010
  • June 2010
  • May 2010
  • April 2010
  • March 2010

Categories

  • #WomenAtWork
  • #YouthForChange
  • ADP 2015
  • Autism Awareness
  • Climate Change
  • COP18 Doha
  • COP21
  • current updates
  • Development
  • Environment
  • Features
  • FfD3
  • Fiction
  • Finance
  • gender
  • Guest Bloggers
  • Handbook on Human Species
  • Novel
  • Paris Agreement
  • poetry or something of the sort.
  • Random Moments of Life
  • Relationships
  • SDGs
  • Sustainable Development
  • Uncategorized
  • UNFCCC

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 3,810 other subscribers

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • Vositha's Blog
    • Join 137 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Vositha's Blog
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar