Archive for the ‘Fiction – English’ Category


FIRST CHAPTER of The Happy Raj: The Kingdom of Happiness

March 21, 2014

THE HAPPY RAJ: The Kingdom of Happiness

By Nihal S. Dissanayake

ImageDescription: THE HAPPY RAJ is an award-winning novel about happiness, and suffering. Meditation is the cure-all regime installed by billionaire Prof. Happiraja in his KINGDOM OF HAPPINESS in the beautiful sunny island of the Happy Raj. .

The Happy Raj is a religious and a self- development novel, which uses Buddhist philosophy to analyze human behavior patterns and the resultant feelings of happiness and unhappiness.

THE HAPPY RAJ is the first award-winning novel in THE HAPPYRAJ SAGA SERIES, which will roll-down into the fifth novel by the end of the year.

Billionaire Professor Happiraja is determined and committed to help you move up the happiness ladder on your journey towards eternal happiness levels, by providing you with all the facilities you need, for life, at his own expense.

Sotapatti Meditation Program is his star program to push the happiness-hungry masses to enter into Eternal Happiness levels, which is receiving world attention. In the words of Lord Buddha, Sotapatti level is higher than that of being a World King.

The plot: Billionaire Professor Happiraja creates a beautiful environment for stress and mind refinement exercises in an island. His ultimate objective is to help the happiness-hungry masses realize Eternal Happiness levels offered through his Sotapatti Meditation Program. His project is derailed when one of his supervisors, Deva, dies mysteriously and his partner, hermaphrodite Cicci jumps into the burning funeral pyre in an attempted suicide.

Dada, the former owner of the island, a rich factory owner, destituted by a tsunami wave, is invited by Prof. Happiraja as his guest, and becomes the first target and beneficiary for his happiness operations.

Appearance of a ghost in his old cottage sends 72-year old Dada into the Medical Centre with a heart problem. When Dada is discharged, Happiraja presents him with a powerful notebook computer, which makes Dada, a designs engineer, dreams of bouncing back into active life.

When Rev. Aloka arrives in to cleanse the island of the ghosts, Dada gets interested in meditation. Two of top Happy Raj executives join the Sotapatti Meditation program in t search of Nirvana, on the day of the inauguration of the Kingdom of Happiness.

Dada also dons the yellow robes in search of Nirvana, and is appointed as the Trustee of the Temple of Happiness. A tsunami wave batters the island immediately after its inauguration, destroying almost all buildings and takes hermaphrodite Cicci with it

Professor Happiraja plans to rebuild the Kingdom and plans to commence a special section for women mediators immediately.



















The fluorescence of the hidden tube lights faltered flickered and disappeared eclipsing the room with a thin cloud of darkness. The shadows hiding like ghosts under the tables, chairs, cupboards, computers and stools, changed their positions, sizes, and lengths to extend their tentacles looking for new areas for control, after suffering several hours under the unfriendly rays of the fluorescent tubes. When a new source of light emerged, creeping stealthily into the room through the narrow openings in the red and yellow curtains that protected the office room of the President, the shadows readjusted their areas of control.

The murmur of the air-conditioners faltered and faded off reluctantly to a premature death. So were the hands of the electric clock that was fixed on to the cream-colored walls of the office of the President of the State Polytechnic, Professor Happiraja. The UPS attached to his computer screeched desperately asking for help and guidance. Embarrassed by the unfriendly disturbances to the serenity of his room, darkened by the sudden failure of the power supply, Professor Happiraja extended his long and fleshy left hand, covered with a white long-sleeved national costume, and used his plump thumb to ensure complete silence in the room. He thought that the power failure could be due to the political forces operating in the country. He jerked his head that was pivoting at the top of a tall and a slender body to look at the hands of the clock that had lost its indefatigable desire for movement. Its hands told the retiring chief that the time was 9:34. Exactly twenty-six minutes more for his last meeting with the members of the academic staff who were getting ready to say GOOD BYE to their beloved boss. Read the rest of this entry ?


In the Shadow of the Tamarind Tree

March 6, 2014

By Matthew S. Friedman

Vijitha Yapa Publications

Part 1: Serendipity lost


As a gentle burst of wind from the western shore passed through the majestic tamarind tree above, the multitude of tiny leaves and sweet fruit pods swung and danced about effortlessly.  For nearly a hundred years this lone tree had managed to occupy this special place on Sri Lanka Island, between the wide sandy beach that lined the ocean’s edge and the village green on the adjacent side.  While there had been others like it; none were ever able to hold on without eventually succumbing to the elements of nature and man alike — their “will” to “be” was never enough to win out life’s perpetual onslaught.

Below the great tree, Tore sat alone on his familiar bench, in his familiar spot, wearing his familiar pair of black shorts, sandals, with a blue-green button-down shirt.  Beside him rested a copy of his favorite book of Tagore poetry, a bag of assorted baked nuts and a bottle of fresh water from the family well.  While the tattered book had been brought along with him nearly every day for the past two years; not once had it ever been opened.  It was there, just in case.

Having retired ten years before at the age of 62 from his job as a government administrator’s assistant, the days of the week no longer held any real meaning — by now, they had all become different shades and hues of grey. Read the rest of this entry ?


Sacred Tears

March 4, 2014

By Roderic Grigson | AuthorHouse


Sacred Tears Book Cover

Buy online: Amazon | Barnes & Noble
| Barefoot Bookshop

Chapter 1

They reached the coast at midnight. The two military trucks turned off the main highway onto a neglected gravel track which wound through rows of orange trees. From where he sat perched in the back of the second truck, Sami saw the fruit reflected in the headlights like glowing yellow eyes.

After bumping slowly around deep potholes, the trucks pulled up at a cluster of five old wooden huts around a clearing. In a huge open-sided shed, empty wooden crates were stacked untidily from floor to ceiling.

Sami still felt sick from the winding drive down the mountain. He had sat on the men’s rucksacks and kept a tight grip on the three rubber dinghies beside him as the truck lurched around the tight bends. He’d had to take slow deep breaths to stop himself from throwing up.

Captain Baqar, the leader of the Fidayeen Commandos, jumped down from the first truck and looked around. A short, bear-like man with a temperament to match, he took every opportunity to assert his authority.

‘Everyone out,’ he yelled in Arabic. ‘I want an armed guard watching the trucks! These bloody locals, I don’t trust them.’ Read the rest of this entry ?


The Prophecy

February 28, 2014

The Prophecy

By Ananda Liyanage | Foremost Books

A Selected Chapter



 It was very generally referred to as the Wall. Specifically it was called the Berlin Wall. It signified all the differences in the world that had sprung up since the end of hostilities of the war that for the second time in the century very nearly consumed the world. Compared to the first time it was a far greater catastrophe. Germany which was defeated by a coalition of many countries in the world had been carved up between the ideologically different camps of the victors. Specifically there were two camps, Western Europe and the United States of America (USA) and Eastern Europe and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), and in the words of the British wartime Prime Minister Winston Churchill the event was described metaphorically that ‘an iron curtain had descended across the continent of Europe’.

The division of Germany between the victors who embraced the older way of life, – capitalism – and those who embraced the newer way of life, – socialism – was evident in the partition of Germany. There was West Germany controlled by the USA, Great Britain and France, and East Germany controlled by the USSR. The problem faced by those responsible for the partition at the Potsdam Conference of the victors just before the end of hostilities was how the capital of the defeated Germany, Berlin that lay well inside the eastern bloc should be partitioned.

They finally came up with the solution to partition Berlin itself and create West Berlin and East Berlin. The victorious powers divided the city itself into four sectors, analogous to the occupation zones into which Germany was divided. The sectors of the Western Allies, the USA, the United Kingdom and France formed West Berlin, while the sector of the USSR formed East Berlin.

As West Berlin lay deep inside East Germany the path of access to West Berlin was through East Germany. All four allies shared administrative responsibilities for Berlin. However, in 1948, when the Western allies extended the currency reform in the Western zones of Germany to the three western sectors of Berlin, the USSR imposed a blockade on the access routes to and from West Berlin. The Berlin airlift, conducted by the three western allies, overcame this blockade by supplying food and other supplies to the city from June 1948 to May 1949 by air. Read the rest of this entry ?


The Vengeance

February 27, 2014

The Vengeance

By Ananda Liyanage | Foremost Books


Selected Chapter

North Yorkshire


Arriving in London on Etihad Airways flight EY 011 and landing at the unearthly time of 0645 hours at Heathrow on a gray and foggy day, Sandani an attractive brunette in her early thirties cleared immigration and customs at terminal four in thirty minutes. She had had a long flight leaving Colombo at 1830 hours the previous day with a stopover of five hours in Abu Dhabi. However she did not feel excessively tired as she had flown first class with sufficient space to stretch her legs and the comfort of a good reclining seat. The atmosphere outside the terminal was in keeping with her mood, gray and gloomy. She supposed that the aircraft had landed on instruments as the visibility was almost zero when she looked outside as they came in to land.

In order to get to her destination Hutton Rudby she had to get to Kings Cross which was the mainline station in London for the north of England and Scotland. She hurried to take the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station on the west side of London. The journey from Heathrow took about thirty minutes travelling through the suburbs of west London. The temperature was around twelve degrees Celsius, and it was now raining and windy. The fog had disappeared.

The journey was dreary with little to see but suburban houses, traffic jams, some green parks marked for football, tube stations packed with commuters on their way to work and brown leaves falling on wet roads. It was a cold wet unwelcome arrival to England. Although the train carriage was modern, with on board television, and filled with overseas travellers it was very quiet as people rarely talked to each other on English trains.

The train terminated at Paddington, and she moved off with many other passengers to the underground to catch a circle line train for the journey across London from Paddington station to Kings Cross station, which took another thirty minutes. She had to stand because although tube trains were frequent, they were generally full. She was glad of her single piece of luggage. Read the rest of this entry ?


Selected Sri Lankan Short Stories Collection

September 2, 2009

1923 –1980; Vol. 1

By Martin Wickramasinghe

Martin Wickramasinghe (1890-1976) is considered as one of the pioneers of Sinhala writing in Sri Lanka. He pioneered the art of short story and the novel. He has written 14 novels. He is also widely accepted as one of the earliest literary critics of the country. Wickramasinghe introduced realism into fiction and also introduced the short story as a medium of artistic expression. His first short story collection was published in 1924 and since that initial venture he has published 108 short stories. The short story in this volume is from his collection Vahallu (Slaves).

Handaya licked Upalis’ feet. Upalis opened his sleepy eyes Land looked with annoyance at the snout with its sagging jowls, as the cart-bull licked his feet again and looked at him with the moist eyes of an old man.

“Come, come closer,” he called out, his irritation giving way to feelings of compassion for the aging animal.

Handaya raised one foreleg onto the verandah where Upalis lay in his bed. With laboured effort the other leg followed. Exhausted as if he had climbed a steep hill, the aging animal dragged his hind legs and rear quarters onto the verandah.

Upalis stroked the face of the animal, who responded by licking his hands. Upalis’ long black hair was drawn tight against his head and knotted at the back. It had the gloss and neatness  of recent combing and oiling.

“That will do.”

Handaya licked the back of Upalis’ hand once more, and then looked at the front door as Upalis’ wife opened it and stepped out into the verandah.

“Go away, go back to the garden.” She put her hands on Handaya’s head and pushed him. Like an obedient child, Handaya turned back and stepped down into the garden. He stood still a while, looking up at the immobile Upalis, and ambled away. With a backward jerk of his head he swished his tail across his back, whence a cloud of tiny flies rose like wind-swept dust.

“Handaya is always disturbing your sleep,” complained Upalis’ wife. Read the rest of this entry ?


The Deception

August 31, 2009

By Ananda Liyanage

AD 491`

AD 491

He sat at the throne made from solid rock facing east on top of the rock that was his citadel. In front of him was the pond hewn from solid rock. The water level in the pond was low since water had to be carried all the way from the ground below to fill it in the dry season. He preferred to use the pond at the top of the rock even in the dry season although there was a palace and ponds on the ground below for the express use during the dry season. There had been no rain now for the last two months. It had cost several years of hard labour for this artificial pond to be constructed. The workers who had perished in the construction of this citadel were many. These thoughts passed fleetingly through his mind as he stared in to the distance.

He kept on seeing the same vision that had haunted him for the entity of his reign which had now lasted for eighteen years. It was the image of the shrunken and broken body of his father whom he had imprisoned. He recalled that it was the night he had ordered his father’s death that he was called to the cell. The messenger had said that his father wished to speak to him about a matter that he had been asking him about. It was with a sense of achievement that he had hurried to his fathers’ cell that night. He remembered his question with trepidation now.

His father dressed only in a loincloth chained to the wall of his cell had raised his tired head from his chest as he approached. With sunken and bloodshot eyes that also conveyed a look of sympathy he had whispered,

“You ask me for my fortune which you thought I was hiding from you to give to your half brother and rightful heir to the throne” Read the rest of this entry ?