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isolations
Articles

My Year of Zoom and Isolations 

I sat at my desk at home in Sri Lanka and stared into the black Zoom interface that read: ‘Please wait, the host will let you in soon.’ It was the last time I would feel those “first day of class” nerves, and I hoped…

social-production-of-space
Articles

Nihal Perera on Social Production of Space 

TAP’s Thirangie Jayatilake met up with Nihal Perera in Colombo on 15 July 2020 to talk about his book Decolonizing Ceylon (OUP, 1999), especially its upcoming Sinhala translation and his ventures in the study of social space. As a young architecture student, a core question that piqued…

washington-square-park
Featured, Poetry

Washington Square Park 

Last Spring I walked through Washington Square Park and the benches had almost reached full capacity. I pass by the saxophone player at the base of the statue, pink blossoming around him, intercepted with fresh light green buds, The guy walking around with a free…

urumuri-rutazima
Poetry

Urumuri Rutazima 

Urumuri rutazima. We ignite that candle. Every year. April. Never let it fade. Because hope is stronger than darkness. Because light is where we move to. A 100 days. A million graves. Because I watched my father, my mother, my sister, my brother, my child…

liquid-children
Featured, Poetry

Liquid Children, Souls Of Sweetness 

I   The day ends with a playground not for children but for the occasional growing up. No, I would not send your child there. Two wired slides with no bottom or railing to rely on. Ropes unstable and high, your child would fall off. But…

burn
Poetry

Consequence 

Kettle screech jolts his two-minute nap. Five a.m. Half asleep, he pours boiling water into coffee-drenched mugs. Half asleep, it takes him two seconds to realize – the hot watered surface has become his skin. These white walls stifled him. He found his excuse, at…

above-the-see
Poetry

Above the Sea 

You confused me at first. Constantly. Frustatingly. I was lost. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay. I’d walk the streets Just watching ayi’s sitting on pavements selling vegetables and shoes, and clothes racks extending out of windows and over the streets like colourful…