The rains have come.
But as I sit here and look at the fog sliding around the buildings and alleys, I remember it all again…

The smell of gunpowder, another round of firecrackers going off.
Heat, too many people and darkness.
The sweat on my face is trickling down my throat.
My heart is beating so fast. All excitement and being frightened.
That strange metallic taste in the mouth scared kind of fear.
People pushing, hustling me along sometimes pushing me away from another firecracker landing amongst us.
Someone is bound to get hurt… but the faces are full of smiles.
I can smell again the smell of humanity around me.

Whirling lights as the dancers pass.
The sounds of drums and pipes… thumping.
The green eyes that hold me for seconds under the mop of black hair… then the little fingers grip my hand tighter… pulling me along.
To the front of the multitude. To the edge of this weaving mass of strangers.
Into the street.
We have come here like all the others… to see the procession of Tuskers!

Perahera.
Procession of light and noise and Kandyan dancers in their colourful costumes.
Music and firecrackers here on the Galle Road, near Colombo.

The swaying lights come closer and Lalith is gripping my arm.
His excitement is infectious as is his smile.
13 years old, lithe and small for his age it seems.
Those white teeth are flashing me another smile as he quickly squeeze my arm again as the first of several Tuskers… elephants… pass us, only a few feet apart.
The garlands of electric lights strung along its tusks and its body swaying to the beat of the drums it seems.
But maybe we are all swaying to that beat of those heavy legs, thumping down past us.
The lights twinkle and reflect off Lalith's beautiful face and his sweat-slick chest beneath the half-open white shirt.
He had labouriously washed it this morning in the shower, naked and singing.
Had told me in excited words already of the delights to come to us tonight.
Oh Lalith, how many more delights are you going to show me?!
You have me weak-kneed from all the delights of the night and this morning.
Not sure I can ask for more… nor sure I will survive them… I shall surely die from too much happiness and delight.
Am sure this is all not real.

But it is, and there are 6 more Tuskers moving by us, before there are more dancers from Kataragama and elsewhere.
This is prayer in motion.
And I pray, pray and sway, as my hand holds on to his and we are being bumped down towards Dehiwala Junction.
Towards the room I have rented there in a house off along some side street, not too far from the ocean, separate entrance from the garden filled with Frangipani.
But I can not calm myself… my heart is bursting again with emotions for him, yes lust and desire as well.
So as we pass a dark little alley I push him into it and hiding behind a garage, I hold my giggling boy close.
Smile into his eyes as he lifts himself into my embrace and we melt into each other's wetness between our open lips and underneath our clothes.
Our hearts thumping and the beat of the processions music pumping through us, we are alone in our small darkness.
Breathing hard and getting hard… so Lalith pulls me along behind him, slipping through the crowd towards our … bed!

It is the year after the riots.
Downtown Colombo bears the pockmarks of war.
Shops plundered and gutted by fire.
Here and there still sandbagged foxholes.
A palatable restrain when one asks about these things.
But curiously at the edges of ones vision only.
Maybe my innocence protecting me.
However, even I know, that the innocent ones were rarely protected in war.

I have come to meet up again with my new found friend, having run into each other several times per chance now, in Asia.
Someone like me, someone that… likes boys.
Hmmm… funny, even now, even here I am hesitant to say it even in my mind.
As I am wandering down the Mount Lavinia beach, having treated myself to coffee at the Hotel overlooking the crescent of beach swinging away from it into the distance.
Having fled from too many German package tourists at the old Hotel, I am making my way down the beach.
Hard-packed white sand, the Indian Ocean washing up to my feet.
I have rolled up my pants, carrying my sandals, am sloshing through the little waves. It is nice and hot, the water warm over my feet… my toes curling into the sand.
A few tourists on the hotel-beaches, clearly marked by chaises and sun-umbrellas… and touts hustling for attention to goods or services.
I am quickly discarded by these professionals.
Ha, good thing too, I have little money left and clearly that shows.
Just another Hippie on the way to Hippie-kadua down the southern coast!
Too brown of skin and simply dressed, sandals and I guess my hair could use a cut.

As it is dancing on the waves as I look out over the ocean.
And the boy that is dancing in the waves.
Maybe it is the heat… or my need that is projecting him out there… a mirage.
An oasis with water for the man that is in peril of drying out.
Stop it!
But he is still there.
I have wandered far down the beach towards the fisher-huts.
And here he is jumping around in the water… a sprite of perhaps 8 summers.
Dark skin… only skin… all of him is skin!
Teeth flashing white as he smiles… arms akimbo, legs thrashing the water where the little waves break surf.
He is mocking me… standing in all his naked glory, hands on his hips, the sun sparkling off his wet skin… looking directly into my eyes.
Shouts something and tilts his head, indicating for me to come and join him.
But I am too scared and even if… I shake my head.
So he shouts disappointedly and goes back to jumping through the surf… rolling around in the shallows and … being a mirage.

And I hurry back to the much too expensive hotel I stayed in for the night, having found no other in the early hours past midnight, when I finally had arrived here in Ceylon.
I needed to get back to look for my friend, who was supposed to be in a guesthouse close to here.

So after a good nap, catching up from the night before, I find myself in the dining-room/veranda at one of the three tables.
The owners wife is lamenting the fact that all the houseboys are off somewhere and she has to do everything herself with only one useless boy left to help.
It strikes me as funny, as I am the only guest, but what do I know… it must be a lot of work, a guesthouse with one guest!
So as I smile to myself, I get my fish and rice… aahhmm, fish-curry and rice that is! But I like rice-and-curry and the pampadam are delicious, she is smiling at me now.
And when I compliment her on her chutney and lime-pickle it is clear that she would like to press me to her ample bosom in gratitude.
She tells me that she will send the boy around to pick up my laundry for him to do… ahhm, I did not ask for that!?
She tissks me away with a wipe of her hand and sends me off to sort it out, he would be around momentarily.
The owner smiles a defeated, apologetic smile and promises cold beer on the veranda.
Ha, what to do. Nothing other than do what I am told and get my laundry done.
I sort out the few things that need washing… I have not so many clothes left after 5 month of lugging my bag, …one learns.
So when the knock comes on my door and with it a mousy little boy of maybe 12 I hand over the clothes, knowing that he would get heck if I didn't.
He does not smile, is much too thin and his sarong has seen better days.
I watch him pad down the walk on his bare feet.

Over a couple of beers I learn about the War, Tamils, Tourist Police and house-boys.
House-boy 101:
Always keep them hungry… they steal from the kitchen anyhow.
Always keep them busy doing chores… they do them badly anyhow.
Always beat them regularly… that keeps them respecting you.
Never give them any money… they just spend it anyhow.
And yes they are a necessary evil.
But cheap.
A new sarong once a year and a little money to the family.
Sleep in the kitchen on the floor and eat the scraps.
Better than dogs, because dogs don't work.

Would I like another beer..?!
Oh… and if I want to, he will come to my room later, but he is Tamil?!
I am trembling from this lesson.
Am not able to speak clearly, but take that beer and nod to the suggestion of him coming to my room.
In my mind I am running into the night with a little mousy boy in my arms.
But that is all illusion. I know at the same moment that I will not be doing that either, but will take from him as well.
Loath myself, but know myself a little better than 6 month ago.
All will stay the same… for him and for me.

Not so mousy, but shiny little boy that tells me he is 15… I can not believe this, but he is adamant. Drinking 'Smacks' is obviously a treat.
Has put the clean sheets on the bed and is snuggled up against me.
He is serious and not so smiley any longer, but I fold him in my arms and stroke his back, his head on my chest.
I can not help it I have an erection that just won't quit and in the end he has as well… but while I pet him and stroke his back I notice that he has slipped of into dreamland.
So while I will not run away into the night with him, I will hold him to me tonight , touch him gently running my fingers through his hair and down his neck. Across his shoulder-blades and into the hollow of his back ending on his bum. He is not so good-looking, but is more than beautiful to me tonight.
Has his arms around my neck and across my thigh. Sleeps in an abandonce to the night and me that makes my chest tight and my eyes moist.

He is out the door before I find some money to give to him.
And I am left feeling out of sorts with this one.
I am not a good man or am I ?

Into this peaceful idyll suddenly intrudes the unmistakable, snaring, putterings of a Tuk-Tuk… which daringly slides into the yard of the guesthouse belching exhaust, but which brings my friend Trev, who practically jumps from the still un-dead beast and mounts the stairs to the veranda in one leap, smiling, embracing me and bidding me welcome… as if the Island was still firmly in the hands of the English and the 1948 Independence had never happened.
But that is one of the idiosyncrasies that I like about him… his Englishness, so I smile and clap his back, being happy to see him and glad he is ok.
Trev is eyeing my Egg-Hoppers and I am eyeing that exquisite little boy that has followed him up the stairs. A beauty in anyone's eyes.
A magnificent, shiny little beast of a boy called Vasantha!

I know by the gasping emptiness inside of myself, that you are not only an answer to the prayers men like me send to the heavens… you are the prayer itself!
All I can do is hold on to my coffee cup and repeat the mantra that I hope will keep me sane… you are a whore that is much too expensive for me.
And so I learn again.

The Station is an old Victorian building, which has seen better days.
Full of the usual hustle and bustle that is part of the curious enjoyment of traveling in these parts of the world. Hundreds of people going, coming or just waiting… for Suda's, white men, like us.
As they have not only seats reserved for us on the train we wish to take… cosmically knowing that we would be here today, wishing to take this train to there, but also they have our beach-house prepared for us and [whispering] will provide food, drink and entertainment… wink, wink.
Still a little frightening when being pulled off to the side and given to understand that this mans nephew is as beautiful as the boy with us now and surely more willing.
I am not ready for all this.
But Trev parts the sea of humanity in front of him with the airs of a Raj and so I find myself pulled along behind him by Vasantha's hand to the wicket selling 1st-class seats to the south.
Ahh… it seems there are not only seats, but for THAT price we could book the whole carriage.
Meanwhile I am swatting at men wanting to carry my one bag and shoo at the ones that offer books with pictures of beach-huts.
Alas… choices must be made.
So while seated in the 'Soft-Class' seats… we are being accosted by a well dressed young man that wins Trev's eye and my approval, if indeed the place is as shown in the pictures glued into a school exercise book.
The obligatory leprous beggar pulls himself past our seats on stumps of legs… and I am making merit by dropping coins into his outstretched hand.
Vasantha seems oblivious of him… but not the seller of drinks and nuts.
Soon munches on whatever his heart desired at the moment under the longing gazes of Trev… and myself.
I do not want to feel this, but oh, to lick the salt off those luscious lips!
Vasantha winks at me and pulls Trev's hand onto the front of his shorts.
Ahhh.!
Hot, sweaty, the chap is still making small-talk.
The train rumbles past the outskirts of Colombo.
A whole city of squatter-shacks between the tracks and the beach.
Palm trees and beaches with the expanse of the Indian Ocean behind.
Sometimes rocky outcroppings and grazing goats in front of old colonial edifices.
Fishing boats and rivers.
What looks like mangrove thickets and the Galle Road crossing over the tracks.
It will be weeks before I learn to pronounce 'Bambalapitiya'.
Right now I am sitting in a train that is leaning precariously into every curve of the tracks, men and boys sitting on the roof and hanging from the doors and windows.
I guess this is my "Marrakesh-Express" just that it is called the 'Matara Express'!
But here in 1st class it is still somewhat serene. Everybody has a seat.
Young Germans on the way to go diving in Hikadua.
Bhikkus on the way to the holy city of Kataragama.
Well dressed businessmen on the way to Galle and us… 2 foreign men and one local boy looking for a beach place to stay and play.

I am relieved when finally we get told that our stop is coming up and we make our way to the exit.
The train rattles into a station of non-distinctness.
Some goats on the far side of it… people walking on the tracks.
A group of Tuk-Tuk drivers, who seem curiously un-interested in us as we march past them… following the young Singalese man to his uncle's beach-huts.
A market town of no real importance, other than to the locals.
But the guesthouse turns out to be exactly what we were promised.
It really is only 2 Nippa huts well apart, on the beach in front of a house that is right on the Galle Road. One is already taken.
But the other single room hut has 2 big beds with what seems like concrete for mattresses, a fan and a porch… which looks out onto the beach the hut sits on, the surf and the Ocean.
This could be closer to heaven again.

My eyes are closing slowly, although I do not want to sleep, but want to look out into the blue, listen to the waves and smell the salty freedom.
So as I hover at the edge of reality, I am dreaming visions of little boys and giggly high voices… hmmm, nice.
A truck horn takes me back from the pleasant sway of my dream… to discover that 2 little boys are sitting on the stairs to the hut!
Looking at me, whispering to each other.
Arms around each others shoulder, they are obviously amused by my strangeness.
Blue school pants and white shirts… must have come home from school just now.
As I watch them through my half-closed eyes, they are distracted by something on the beach… which gives me the opening I need.
'Booh'… they all but fall off the stairs, I am worried now, but uncurl from each other on the sand and giggle, full of smiles.
That worked better than expected and I am laughing at them, brushing the sand off each others clothes and jostling each other.
I wave them closer, to which they comply without much hesitation.
We play the name game and find the 10 words between us, that allows for some trading of smiles and information.
Yes, just out of school, one being the owner's nephew, the other his best friend.
Both 11, one named 'Somasiri" the other 'Sunil'.
I ask them if they can get me something to drink… 'Smack'?
With my money in hand they belt off around the hut and down the yard.
In minutes they are back… breathless, smiling… a little sweaty.
Each holding a bottle of 'cool-drink'.
They are brave enough now to sit on the railing across from me, sharing one of the bottles, trading it back and forth between them.
While I have the other one… gazing at their long slim legs and pleasant faces.
It becomes clear that neither of them is wearing underpants… as I breathlessly discover. Their boy-parts are just visible up their pant-legs when they shuffle around for a better perch.
Somasiri sees me looking and covers his crotch with his little hand … laughing and smiling.
Then tilts his head to one side and opens his legs wider… reaching for the drink with the hand that had covered him.
I swallow… have another swig of the sweet stuff… and my mind is racing, trying to construct possibilities. Opportunities…
Sweat beading off my forehead, I try to make small-talk with the two.
Sunil's small tongue is pushing into the opening of the bottle… ahhh, I can't stop all the pornographic images in my head.
I need… I need… a cold shower!!
Right, …right now!
So I ask Sunil about it and he jumps down form his perch, down the stairs and takes my hand pulling me to the well next to the entrance of the yard.
In a corner, behind a fence of high reed-mats, a simple open well with bucket on a rope.
I peer down it… and yes… water. Sunil drops the bucket and pulls up some water… but I laugh and go and get my soap.
Sunil and Somasiri are standing on the rim of the well, watching as I test the water in the bucket.
Yes nice and cool… and both boys stare as I loose my clothes and am naked in front of them on the concrete pad beside the well.
I motion Somasiri over with the bucket… his eyes are all over me… but mostly on my penis… and dump the water over my head.
He shrieks as he gets sprayed a bit and Sunil is killing himself laughing at it all.
I smile… relieved from the heat inside and out and motion for another bucket with water.
Sunil pulls it, but hands it to Somasiri, who has taken off his shirt and flung it over the reed-mat.
There is devilish delight in his eyes as he dumps the water over me and I pretend to shake myself like a dog.
So Sunil has to try as well, and tossing his shirt next to his friends, he stands on the rim of the well, for better height.
Ha,… boys and water-play.
We are having fun now!
I soap myself… while the boys are smelling the bar of soap I toss to them to hold.
Somasiri gushes a stream of melodic words in Singhala.
Sunil cocks his head… but then smiles as well.
Off come their shorts with bursts of giggles.
Water over heads and two little naked boys are washing each other with nice smelling soap.
Shiny, wet, brown bodies. Their bums clenched in concentration and little stubby penises flopping. I dowse them with a bucket or two.
Then let them try the even nicer smelling hair-shampoo.
Somasiri presents himself to have his head shampooed… smiling at me and while standing with his back to me reaches behind himself and tugs on my penis… hey!
He is practically falling down laughing.
Scurrying away from my grasp.
Slippery wet boy-body. My hands slide off his back and legs.
We are having shampoo fights which Sunil and Somasiri win, just because I am constantly distracted by their bodies in wet motion, smiles and giggles.
In the end they are both standing on the rim of the well, dumping several buckets over me to clean off the soap.
I am drying off with a not too moist towel, they giggle and point at me from the well, covering their middle with the bucket… while I suddenly realize that they are actually pointing behind me… where a tour-bus with Japanese tourists faces looking at my naked butt is idling at the traffic-light… the windows of course much higher than the 6foot reed-mat!
All I can do is show bravery in the face of adversity and so I wave at them as the bus starts to move off down the road… and then quickly dress.
The boys are back in their school shorts and are still chattering about the last 5 minutes… as we walk back to the beach-hut.
I offer another drink… Sunil sprints off to fetch it.
Somasiri holding my towel, slides close and pulls me down by my arm… to whisper into my ear…' Come beach… night-time!'
I look into his eyes not sure if I heard correctly… did this boy just make a date with me?
He looks a bit nervous, but excited… and plants a quick kiss on my cheek… before Sunil rounds the porch with the drinks.
I am contemplating while the boys are sitting on the steps… facing away from me towards the surf.
Somasiri is talking to Sunil intently.
Holding him close to himself.
Conspirators in this I guess… I am not sure what is happening.
But am prepared to wait and see.

It is late afternoon and the two sleepyheads inside are actually waking up.
Vasantha stands in the door looking at the two local boys… well lets see what happens now?!
But he sits with them and talks.
They talk.
Smile, if tentatively at first.
It is time for tea.!

I get myself another G&T and watch little torch-lights dance along the beach.
There are fireflies in the Mangroves and the bushes.
Dancing, weaving and twinkling… wait, that is a torch!
Somasiri, dark eyes shining is slipping up the stairs… followed by Sunil.
They want me to come to the shadows with them… pulling me up and down the stairs.
I guess this is a secret adventure thing to them.
I smile to myself, this is fun… an adventure with the boys.
Good to get away from the porch anyhow.
The boys are whispering together… Somasiri has my hand firmly in his.
I stumble after them down the beach a bit into a mangrove thicket.
Sunil with torch in hand, is standing a bit to the side, as Somasiri pulls me to the ground.
The sand is soft beneath my back… Somasiri soft cheek on mine.
Ohhh… he is kissing me, is opening my shirt and flinging his off to the side, is pushing himself against my chest, running his fingers through my hair and rubbing my nipples.
Ahhh…. This is one horny boy this is… he is panting and I can feel a very hard little dick pushing at my belly.
Sunil is shining the dim torch at us… hard words from Somasiri and Sunil takes off down the beach.
I guess this means you and me, Somasiri… horny brown skinned boy!
I am unsure, really as to what to do… this is not what is in the text-book in my head.
A little boy, who is fumbling with my belt, having already pushed down his shorts to his ankles.
This is scary… am I being set up… what if Sunil comes back with a cop in tow?!
Somasiri seems to smell my fear… he makes it clear that all is well, that we are alone and that … he wants to do this.
At which he grips my hard penis and is kissing it, licking it… ohh… slipping it into his mouth!
All rational thought is leaving me, as it is replaced by pleasure and lust.
Am withering on the sand, driven slowly mad by small fingers rapidly stroking what does not fit into mouth!
Somasiri is panting and twitching.
I am trying to at least stroke his back, but he is too low and so all I can do is run my hands through his hair and hold his head as I buck into him.
Hot night, darkness… wet little mouth.
Ohhh… surf rolling in and waves of feelings crashing over me.
The cicades have taken up their sounding again and it is amplifying in my head until I hear nothing at all other than my own heart-beat and my own moaning.
Somasiri has a mouthful as reward for his labours.
I have a mind full of troubling thoughts for my release.
The boy has crawled up onto my chest and is squeezing me.
Rubbing his hard little dick against mine.
Driving for his own satisfaction.
Panting, moaning… until he is squeaking in little boy orgasm, his dick twitching against mine.
He is still… breathing hard.
I hold him.
He is holding me.
I am on the beach in the sand behind some bush naked, arms around a naked little boy, our dicks touching…!!!
I have been made 'lust' to…I think.
On top of it, I realize that Sunil is sitting a scares 15 feet away on the beach, playing with the torch.
I am numb.
Can not think. Am I supposed to?
What the hell just happened?
I lift Somasiri up, who is smiling into my eyes and kisses me.
We dress in silence.
Sunil comes close and giggles with Somasiri. I feel decidedly left out and suspect that I am their topic of conversation.
Somasiri has possessively taken my hand and is walking me back to the beach-hut.
Why do I feel like a little blushing virgin being taken home after being deflowered?
Even more so as the boys scurry off into the night together, having said good-bye at the stairs to the room.
Trev is sitting out on the porch, ciggy in hand… looking amused.
I stumble up the stairs, flop into the other chair and recount my adventure.
He is laughingly dishing out a G&T and I accept gratefully.
He suggests I better have another wash… what with all that sand in my hair and on my body.
His mirth at my dishevelment is infectious and I am soon smiling as well.
Thinking that maybe my gods are smiling at me too.

We travel. Stay at the New Oriental Hotel in Galle, where the Proprietress, an old distinguished Lady, shares our table one night. Stroking Vasantha's face and telling Trev that he is lucky to have such a beautiful boy as his 'companion'!
She dismisses the world with a wave of her delicate hand simply stating:
'Boys have always been attractive to men. They are nice to play with. Women would do well to not interfere… as men will always find their way home, if they have one. And who needs them around ALL the time.' A soft little laugh.
I would not have believed a story like this, had it not been myself at the table, discussing all manner of things with this old woman as well.
As she was leaving after the aperitifs, she said something stern to Vasantha…then explaining to Trev, 'I told him not to be so mean to you… the beautiful ones are always such!'

How very true.
There are many little fights between Trev and Vasantha, to the point of tears from both of them… or Trev stomping off to the beach or bar, wherever we were.
Vasantha sometimes playing with me, just to make Trev's blood boil.
Than calling him 'my husband' in bed at night.
Exquisite little beast.
And way to expensive a boy-whore for me… emotionally for sure!
We tingle down the west coast and the south.
Galle the beautiful old Dutch town
Trev and I joke as we wade out to Taprobane Island 100 yards of the beach in Welligama, dragging Vasantha behind us on an air-mattress, that in decades past we would have run into Paul Bowles or Baron Jaques d'Adelsward-Fersen here.
The villa is empty, a few servants are easily appeased with a small bakshish and we have the run of the place for the afternoon.
Trev and Vasantha are reckless and are making out in the roman-sized sunken bathtub… sans water.
I am sitting in the center hall…where one can look down 4 corridors all ending in vistas that are exquisite. Ocean, Ocean, Beach and Beach.
Constructed to catch the wind at all times and direct it into the interior of the villa.

Matara… the delight of markets at the end of the Rail-line.
Kataragama… a temple city with worshipers from every religion.
Humbling and even Vasantha looks chastised when kneeling to pray and offering flowers to the Buddha.
We are making merit, giving to all the beggars.

Eating rice and curry for a week… but also Treakle and Honey.
Could this be a little closer to home?

But we are looking out from under the roof with the filigree wood-border, sitting in the old teak deck-chairs on the polished red floor, talking of meeting again sometime.
The sun is dropping slowly to the horizon into the Indian Ocean.
We embrace in the drive and hold on to each other a second longer… knowing that we will be apart.
The taxi pulls away and I walk up to the corner to push my way on to one of the city buses into the herd of people that are already squished into it… on my way to Dehiwala Junction.

Always feels different, when I am alone.
My senses sharpen a bit. Eyes see more somehow.
The edges of my vision seem to expand.
Smell, sound… my skin appears to be more sensitive to the wind or the touch.

I had my instructions from John, as to how to get back to his place.
The number of the bus, written down in the swirly Sanskrit Sinhala.
But in the end it was impossible to do without asking for directions to the right bus.
Eyes are wide in curiosity from the men I am wedged against on the platform of the bus.
I resist the shoving… want to stay close to the exit, to watch for my stop.
So all humanity squeezes by me.
Brown, weathered faces, teeth stained dark red from betlenut-chewing.
We are bounced around together, through ruts and potholes.
Sway from the sharp braking as a cow, holy or not, decides to wander across for the greens on the far side of the road.
Somehow the traffic flows around the beast.
All chaos has an internal order it seems.
Wish I could find mine.

Tuk-Tuks, mopeds, cars and carts with ochsen in front.
The tapestry of Asia.
It is terrifyingly exciting.
I am thinking of all the descriptions I had read of this.
Remember Rupyard Kiplings 'Kim' and am looking at the boy next to me with new eyes.
He clutches his bag of groceries, but when he gracefully jumps off at the next stop, he smiles and ventures a quick wave.
While I wonder if this bus is going to race into the next obstacle and implode, sending us all to another turn on the wheel.

With my supplies of meds and plasters added to his, he cleans the little chaps cuts and bandages him up.

I am offering to spring for lunch and so we eventually head off to a local restaurant, with me leaving enough money with the houseboy to get rice-packets for the little troop of boys milling around in the house and garden.

So we share a little food and a little about each other's life, coming out of the restaurant as new friends I think.

Some more tea.
The first runner returns with information about where to stay… but after a short conversation in Sinhala he is sent off again, together with a second boy.
My bags arrive and when I want to give the boy a little money, John gives me the digs about not giving them so much.
I had provided food and drink… that was simply enough.
Ok,… ok…, it is not that I am loaded with money any longer anyhow.
The scouts return in time and it seems I have a place to stay for one third the cost of the guesthouse!
John explains carefully, that to take a young boy with me to the place would not be so good for tonight… and tells a big boy, well he is maybe 16 or so, to take me down there and sort things out for me.
Rajid, his name is and he speaks English well he tells me… and so we trot off together.
A short bus ride, Rajid carrying my bag and we are walking down a lane and into a yard with very nicely cut grass and a bungalow with wide porch.
Rajid confers with the older man who has gotten up as we approach.
A little distinguished in a stiff sort of way, he welcomes me in English and shows me my accommodation.
I am drifting with this… is this indeed what was arranged for me..?
Rajid assures me with a wink.
I am shown through a double door off a small sitting-room into a large bedroom.
The owner demonstrates the key, from my side, on the double doors, locking them and giving it to me, together with a key to the door leading… into the garden!
Ahhh… a separate entrance!
Quite separate as it turns out, as the little path past the Frangipani bushes leads to a gate in the perimeter wall and out into a lane.
Well… nice!
Whoever comes in through here is not seen by anybody really.
The owner assures me quiet and privacy.
Showing me proudly the bathroom, connected by a small hallway to the bedroom. Almost en-suite as it were. The hallway continues around a corner, but it is very private it seems.
Rajid asks me if this is good enough?
I quickly shake the mans hand, pass him a weeks rent and get Rajid to drop my bag onto the bed.
I have a very nice place to stay!

Not many tourists here at all… a few further down the beach.
But a few local boys running and throwing sand at each other.
Sprinting through the water and tumbling into the waves.
I watch them in serene delight.
Water-spirits it seems, shouts of joy and running because every fiber in their body tells them to move.
They seem young, but I am getting more cautious in judging ages.
Maybe they are more like 12 or 13 or more.

The game has taken them closer to me, but I refuse to move.
So they end up around me at times… and I get to watch them close-up.
As they are not in school, I take it they are tourist boys… maybe?
They have already scoped me and quickly concluded that I was of the 'not enough money' cast of tourists… and maybe not even in the game.
The overweight older men down the beach make an easier target… maybe?

But are delighted when I retaliate an accidental 'hit' of wet sand!
The games afoot!
I am feeling good… am playing like a boy with them… tumble and shout, laugh and am getting plastered with sand!
Of course the 3 are ganging up on me!
Eventually I give up and run into the water… splashing and swimming out a bit to loose the sand.
They hang around, sitting on the sand.
Time for some 'cool drinks' and talk...?
So one of them is dispatched to get Rajid to pay from my small money for a few bottles from the café.
We sit around and they speak some English!
Rajid knows 2 of them.
Yes, tourist boys.
Hmm…!
I know Rajid is watching me, watching them!
But I am not forward enough. Am still afraid inside. Am still battling with myself about this crazy animal inside of me that is lusting after their bodies!
Feel the emptiness in the pit of my stomach, that comes from the want, the desire and lust which all the world says I should not have.
Yes… think about the boy, who's woolen hat is in my pack, back home.
My love… what happens to my love, here… with all this lust?
My silence drives them away it seems… except the one with the light skin and green-grey eyes!
Oh I had noticed!
A little more quiet, boisterous in play, but more reserved after.
Sitting a bit behind the others. But now lingering on a while longer… until jumping up on his long slim legs and waving good-bye trotting off down the beach.
Rajid tells me that it is time to go… the tourist police will come soon to this part of the beach!? Oh yes… it is well laid out, everybody knows when they are coming where. How else would it work?
They collect their bakshish off the café and occasionally round up a few boys to beat and shake them out of their 'hard' earned money.

He smiles at my disgust.
It is the way it is. He is Tamil and so is happy to not get slaughtered some night.
The police would not be as easy on him!

The salt is itching on my skin as we make our way back to the room.
This has me in silence again.
In the shower I am leaving a ton of sand in the drain… but feel good afterwards.
In my minds eye I see the little one with the green eyes.
Not sure why… they were nice looking, all of them.

Off to meet up with John for late lunch.

He is opening something in me, with that entrancing voice!
John is handing me a Scotch!
Tells me that he thinks I should have one of the boys he knows better.
Tells me that this one is going to only do what HE wants!
A lot of independence in him.
I can tell that John is not really displeased with what he sees in Lalith.
Just thinks that maybe this boy is a little much for me… whatever that means.

We send out for more rice packets… this rice packet thing is still a bit unclear to me… however I understand that it is something readily available, cheap and contains all one wants from food… rice, curry, some fish an egg (for extra money) some vegetables and some other unidentifiable things.
It is a staple I guess, for the boys.

I fall asleep. The war in my head on hold.

The birds in the garden are making a racket too loud to let me go back to sleep.
Have been laying here for the last hour, eyes still half-closed, listening to them and to Rajid's breathing.
Sometimes there are faint voices in the other part of the house.
Sunshine behind the closed curtains, peeking through the sides of it.
I am trying to decide.
Decide what to do.
Don't want to leave, really. But have not so many reasons to stay.
Have enough money for another week or so, but not enough to keep moving around.
And staying here… well, I don't want that either.
I could change my ticket and try to get on a flight tomorrow.
Well, maybe I just hang around for the rest of the time I have already paid this room for… not so many days left anyhow.
Why do I feel this sadness?
What is it now… again? Something doesn't work out the way I want it or wish it, and I get huffy and depressed.
Feel like I have lost out on all that is good and beautiful in life?
What bullshit.
Just sulking like a little boy for not getting his lollipop!
That is all!
Forget him.
Oh those green eyes.!
It is very easy to find another boy, just go down to the beach!
Hell, old Rajid here will be happy to wank with you if you want!
Hmm… except I don't want to wank with Rajid… but with Lalith!
ENOUGH!
Out of bed… I need to piss anyhow.
I throw open the curtains, much to Rajid's dislike… and go to wash.
The lazy boy is still under the sheets when I get back… so I prod him up and into the bath.
Sit and wait for him outside the door, next to the Frangipani bush.
A little boy is sitting on the lawn a short way off, cutting it with a pair of large scissors!
Floppy old hat and sarong… must be a houseboy, but so young?
And what the hell have they have him cutting the lawn with SCISSORS..?
No wonder, the lawn looks manicured!
It must take him weeks… in fact he will likely be starting again from the beginning, once he is finished!
He is throwing shy glances in my direction… I smile at him, but that makes him just more shy.
Someone is shouting something from the porch around the corner… and he scurries off in a hurry.

Rajid is ready and confirms that it is one of the houseboys and that he just got in shit!
I am feeling sad for him… or is that for me again?
We trod off to get breakfast down on the Galle Road.
Rajid has more bun-a-la-vile, I stick to hoppers.
The world hustles past the window, an endless changing view of people and things.
I am drifting off again, staring out at life pulsing up and down the street.
Can feel the comfort of being enveloped by all the world.
This world here.
This does not chase all this melancholy away, but flushes out the frustration and the anger that was still lingering on the edges.
Yes, I think I will stay the days and suck up as much of this that I can.
Want to take away with me a storehouse of memories to last a lifetime.
So when Rajid leaves to head over to John's, I stay and have some more Chai.
The infernal noise and commotion around me make me smile to myself and almost shiver with delight.
I am alive!

This is me, 4 years old in my fathers arms.
Him holding my naked body to his chest, as we wade into the salty wet of the Baltic Sea. His arms holding me, his body warming me as the water licks at my skin.
I shiver and yeep in delighted fear.
He soothes me and as we sink into the water up to my neck, he clasps me in his strong arms and with my little face crushed against his, I know that I love him.

Thank you, Mother Ocean, for this memory.
I let the waves toss me onto the beach and the surf break over me, washing away the tears from my face.
Pull myself up on the beach and lay back to let the sun warm me and dry the water off my skin.
The world turns a little slower and the music of the waves is the meditation of my soul.
As I am getting hot on my back I roll onto my belly and rest my head on my arms… nice, good and right. This is me, here and now!
Almost sighing I lift my head… am drowsy from the heat on my body and look up… at Lalith!
Sitting a short distance away, directly in front of me on the beach… looking at me!
Looking at me…
Me looking at him…
He is not looking away…
I am not going to either…
… but gets up, walk past me, a foot away from where I am stretched out on the sand… and walks into the surf… splashing it with his foot.
Turning around to sit up, I am watching him… breathing has become something I need to remind myself of… as he strolls along the beach in front of me.
He seems sullen… serious for sure.
Reaches down into the water… and splashes water at me!
I struggle back on my butt, but do get wet anyhow… cool water on my hot skin!
Again!
Well, I'll be…!
I get up and walk down the few feet to the water… but Lalith is sprinting off down the beach a bit.
I walk towards him… this boy needs a lesson in respect.
He jumps through the surf past me to the other side…!
I did not anticipate that and am too far away to reach him.
Boy is making a fool out of me.
I need to walk away now… or… I sprint up to him!
He evades me, again passing me in the waves further out a bit… jumping with practiced skill.
I am panting… he is prancing.
Ok… you little shit… try that once more!
He does and as I lunge at him I find myself catching a wave in the face… but no boy in my hands.
Enough… I sit in the water, surf washing around me and give him a salute. Smile and shout out his win to him.
He slowly comes closer… wades out from the water and stands between my legs.
I have to blink into the sun…that is behind him… can not see his eyes just the bouncing sparkle off his wet hair and skin.
He slowly takes water in his hands and lets it flow over my head… I shiver from something that is growing like a wave in me… drops on his knees and lets himself fall forward… into my arms!
The waves roll over us, as we roll in the surf, holding on to each other… how idiotically romantic… but he is here in my arms.
And my heart is beating way too fast!
Lalith is smiling… pushing himself up and rolls like a seal-pup in the deeper water.
I watch him play and am not sure what just happened…but remember his skin against mine.
I stand like an idiot on the beach watching a brown skinned boy play in the water. Oh my, this is ridiculous.
But I can't tear myself away from it.
Watch his little play until he comes out walks by me, smiling up into my face and trots up the beach to where my stuff is and… uses my towel to dry himself!
Plops himself down next to my stuff… as if he belonged there.

I walk over to the beach café and get a bottle of 'cool-drink'.
Sit beside him and offer it to him… 'No, first you!'
Oh, that voice. Gives me goose-bumps, even in this heat.
I take a sip… he wraps his lips around the neck of the bottle and gulps down half of it!
Smiles, hands it back to me and licks his lips slowly… while I struggle to keep sane.
Somehow the world has receded to the edges of my vision.
Lalith tells me that soon we must go, as the Tourist Police will come by.
WE must go?!
Him and me?
Go where?
Him and me… he wants to come with me?
I stumble on my words… he chuckles.
I suggest lunch. He nods eagerly.
Gets up and takes my towel. Walks up the lane. Not bothering to check if I am following… which I am, of course!
I want to shake my head to make it clear itself.
Am afraid however that this dream will vanish also.
No time to change, just put on a shirt.
Get some money.
Out the door again and to a place that is bustling with people.
Lalith finds a corner table in the back… comes back with plates of rice and curry, which he proceeds to shovel into his mouth with his hand, breaking the pampadams into bits and mixing them with it.
Sorry I need a spoon… a server-boy is already sliding up to give me one… looking over at Lalith…then back at me and smiling!?
Does everybody else know what is going on here… and if so, maybe someone could explain it to me, please.
Because I do not know what is going on… just that I want to not change it.
I will dream this until I have to wake up.

It feels like I am tethered to Lalith, as I follow him home to MY room.
Into the bathroom, where he strips out of his shorts and shirt… no underwear… and practically takes my clothes off for me.
He is slim, like all the boys here.
Luscious, wet brown skin all over.
Flashing smiles at me at times, he washes himself using my soap… I am watching entranced as his soapy hands slide all over his body… then hands the soap to me and pushes me under the water.
The sand is rinsing off me and swirling down the drain… as is my rational mind it seems.
Lalith smells the shampoo, then presents himself to have his hair washed.
I can't help myself and soap his shoulders as well… but he slips away and under the spray.
Hmm… what is this all about.
He is becoming more beautiful to me by the minute… or is that my lust for him speaking?
He slaps my erection playfully… and waggles his head!
Play…? Please…!?
NO… he is dressing again!
Oh please,… but he is moving towards the door already.
' I go and come, tonight, late… door open, no Rajid!'
He slips out the door.
I slip on to the bed.
Just what does that mean… did he mean it?
Is he indeed going to return tonight, or is this a game?
I am hurt. Sad. Angry… but defeated somehow.
So I get dressed and take a run over to John's place.

John offers to send Rajid with me, but we part in front of the restaurant.
Whatever happens, I want to be alone anyhow.
Enjoy walking through the night.
The slight tingle of walking in strange places at night as well as anticipation of things to come… if they in fact do!
Down the lane and through the door into the garden, past the Frangipani, smelling sweetly… and in the dim light from the street-lamp, I see Lalith sitting in front of the door.
He is munching on something… and waves to me as I approach.
As if this was always thus.
As if I had not feared being alone.
As if he would always be here.

As if all I needed to do, was open my arms to him… he steps into them.
As I close the door behind us… he lifts up on his toes.
Kisses me on the lips!
Whoosh… my breath leaves me.
I can taste the spice on his lips… then tumbles away to the bathroom, leaving me licking my lips and sitting on the bed, trying to find a way to deal with all this.

He is a vision of dark body on the white sheets… the only light coming from the open window.
Relaxed, arms behind his head, one leg slightly pulled up.
I know that he is not the most beautiful boy I have ever seen, but is more beautiful to me every time I see him.
Smooth, hairless…slim-hipped, full lips and those green eyes.
But more so even his voice… that makes me shiver and melt.

I slip on to the bed beside him… and he turns to me, smiling.
Moves closer, until his skin touches mine. All of it. There is tingling down my spine, as he is sliding on top of me, slowly.
He holds on to my shoulders, while he moves his hips to move his now erect, slim but long penis along my throbbing erection.
Again,… and again.
He is pressing himself close… kissing my neck, then my cheeks.
I am mesmerized, the mouse hypnotized by the snake, as he is looking into my eyes… deeply.
He has no fear it seems.
Is panting in rhythm with his thrusts.
Is kissing me on the mouth again… oh… is slipping a hot, wet little tongue in between my teeth.
Yes… I am gasping for air between long kisses!
He is clearly excited to the point of cuming… but suddenly stops and holding my head…whispers into my face, while holding me with his eyes…'You like me boy, yes?'
I moan… and try to kiss him… but he does not let me.
'Say you like boy.!' he demands in that deep luscious voice.
' I like boy, I like you!' I gush out.
' Good, now we make love…'
And Lalith bites my neck, hard, while pushing himself into me… fucking himself against me, kissing, moaning gripping my shoulders as he works both of us into a frenzy.
My legs are twitching, I know I will be cuming any moment, his body snaps and curls, sweat between us, I know I am scratching his back… as his legs clamp spasmodically while his cock twitches and pulses out hot boy-sperm.
Which sends me into the 'little death' myself and I moan and squeeze him to me wanting to melt him to me… wanting to have him reach into my heart and hold it as it beats too fast.
Want to float away into the wetness with him, that has spread between us.
I am crying… not sure why. But am crying real tears as the boy is holding on to me, not letting go… not letting go.

Lalith is already asleep, breathing deeply.
So I pull the sheet over us and send a plea to my gods.
Can he please keep me a little while?!

No dreams.
Warmth.
Did I turn over at all, last night?
Surely not, least I would loose him…
Where is he?
Panic of being set adrift again…
But right on cue, Lalith is padding into the room.
Bringing a tea and a smile.
I suddenly realize that everyone in the house must know that this boy stayed the night!
He went to get tea from the kitchen, right!
In only his shorts. Hair all a mess from sleeping.
Lalith smiles at me and looses his shorts, before sitting cross-legged in front of me, tray with tea between us.
I keep looking at him.
His eyes, mostly green with flecks of grey.
His skin, dark-honey coloured, smooth.
His hands, long fingered but still small.
His black hair, his ears…
Yes, his sex!
A slim boy-penis in repose above the slightly wrinkled plum of his scrotum.
I say those words in my mind… why was it cock and balls last night?

What now… we had sex last night.
The waoohh kind of sex.
The moaning, withering kind of sex.
The feeling lost and cut from the world kind of sex.
The holding on to each other kind of sex!

What now?
I want to know more about him… but Lalith is not so forthcoming with answers.
Sips on his tea a lot.
He is 13.
He goes to school, sometimes.
Of course he has a father and a mother.
Where, he won't say.
Brothers and sisters…? Many!
Of course he likes Cricket!

I have run out of questions.
Lalith has plans.
'You need hairs off.'
Yes master.
Somehow my perverted mind shows me a picture of Lalith shaving me from head to foot!
But he is insistent… now we must go!
Ok, ok,… some things first.
He is brushing his teeth… enjoying it, until he flees from the bathroom cursing me I have no doubt, holding his nose.! Well, all that curry!
I wash and get ready, while Lalith is somewhere else in the house.
I get a fresh shirt from the wardrobe in the room… but somehow inadvertently open the wrong door… and find myself staring at a Uniform!
Police!
I will be arrested!
Rat infested jail!
I stare at the pressed clothes in the wardrobe while Lalith returns, looks around me to check what I am looking at and says in a respectful, admiring way.
'He Boss in Army. Very nice, yes!?'
I stutter a respectful reply… and begin to breathe again!

At Majestic City Plaza we are getting my hair cut… quite nice actually.
Yes and Lalith's as well, smiley boy!
And some clothes,… yes I am spending too much.
But I want him to look nice and oh what the hell, I can't explain!
But Lalith is in control here as well.
New slippers, yes… but the old ratty ones go in the plastic bag.
New shorts…NO.
Bright yellow bathing suit-shorts…YES.
Jeans… YES, PLEASE!
A shirt and a belt.
I am enjoying every minute of this!
Lalith looks very smart in his new clothes…enough so that he allows a stop for lunch in a place near the mall, where 'rich' people go.
A western sort of place, a Singalese MacDee's .
He does not look out of place at all.
Devours the IceCream.

Thank you Gods, that I have this time.

Does not return with me…OH… but tells me that he will see me later!
Oh yes?
Yes.
Yes master… I am less then happy now, but know that he will do as he will.
And head over to John's place, which is on the way back anyhow.
As always John and I are having a fine time together.
Drinking tea and working on our friendship.
He is a well of information about not only this country, this town, but also the scene here and … boys!
Does not really know what advise to give me in regards to Lalith.
Well maybe I do not need much advise… maybe I just need to listen and learn… from Lalith!

Just to drape himself on the bed in the twilight.
Just to look so luscious and beautiful and sexy, with his hand playing with the nipples on his chest in an absentminded sort of way.
Which make his penis lift and stretch.

I kneel beside him and he directs my head where he wants to be kissed.
Makes him giggle and pant.
Makes me horny like hell.
I want to grab him and stroke him and me… but am smacked on the head.
'No hands… use mouth!'
Yes master… soo solley!
I lick and kiss, chew and suck…
Everywhere!

Until it is time for sex again and he is twisting and moaning and thrusting against me.
Then flipping himself around he swallows half of me and pushes his cock into my mouth… which opens willingly.
We are crawling into each other, getting desperate for the release we are soo close too.
Lalith is scraping my cock with his teeth… on purpose!
I moan… a little pain but oh so much pleasure.
He pulls on my balls with his teeth.
Ahhh… while he is thrusting deep into me, my tongue pressing him against the roof of my mouth.
Sweat, sweet pain… rush!
Can't stop my hips from coming off the bed… oh no, I am clamping my mouth around his cock hard, while I thrust and whimper and cum in his mouth that stays with me, his fingertips scraping over my balls!
Lalith is not far behind and takes advantage of the clamping tightness I have created.
A half dozen rabbit thrusts and a long moan has his hips jerking and his thighs clamping around my ears.

We have fallen off the edge of the world again.
Are breathing hard and holding on to each other as we tumble amongst the stars.
Lalith is stretched alongside of me, our legs entwined, arms around each other.
His head under my chin.
His breath flows across my chest.
My hands flow across his back… stroking, caressing.
Sleep.

This is not little boy play.
That is for the beach.
This is sex… hard, almost painful… but just at the cusp dissolving into pleasure and bliss that I had not expected to find with a boy.

Who knows what happens from the boys at John's when he picks me up some nights.
Who leans on my chest with his arms folded and looks into my eyes.
We had just traded bliss, but are both not ready for sleep.
Holds me in the spell of those green eyes and asks me..
' Your home you have boy, yes?'
Yes, indeed… without a woolen hat… because that one is with me!
'Name?'
I tell him… he practices pronouncing it.
'You love boy Daniel?'
Yes… I do.
'You make sex?'
No. He is scared of that. Is not ready maybe.
'Sorry… you love stupid boy.'
..and kisses me hard.
Is only satisfied when he is pushed against me panting from another release and whispers.
'Sex good, yes… for boy as well! Even for stupid boy, Daniel.'
Subject closed he is nestling in for the night, against my side.
Leaving me wrestling with myself for some time, thinking about Daniel and the world we share.
The love we have and the parts that are missing.

The boys of course have their hands in their mouths, trying not to giggle or burst from laughing.
So much for recklessness!
I flee to John's for tea and leave the boys behind.

Thank you master.
I have learned so much from you.
Lalith is asleep around me.

But Lalith has given me another present.
He has slipped out the door already.
Is gone and will not return, so the houseboy tells us.
I am suddenly empty.
Feel lost.

But also know that this is a last instruction from my little teacher.
That it is all about the next day and the next.
That yesterday does not really exist… only in our memory.
And tomorrow I will be somewhere very far from here.

I shiver in my light jacket even though I am wearing all the clothes I have, including a woolen hat!
Clutching my small travel bag.
Sitting in the arrivals hall in Frankfurt Airport.
All these people drifting around me.
I feel alone.

But myself.

Some notes:

Somasiri died a young man a few years ago while in the army. He stepped on a landmine on patrol in the North of Sri Lanka. He was a happy boy for many years, but very afraid of his duty in the North. I hope you rest in peace.

TAK