I’m Devi.
I’m a freelance writer living and trying to work in Melbourne, Australia since June 2005. Before that I lived in the green pastures and cow dung-encrusted hills of Northwest Arkansas while attending John Brown University, majoring in journalism and history. Prior to that I lived in Manila, Philippines and prior to that I was born in Colombo, Sri Lanka. This should make me a citizen of the world, but until someone can give me a legal passport for that, the one I’ve got – Sri Lankan – will have to do.
My life in Melbourne consists of hours on public transport, dining at charming cafes and warding off the occasional overly-friendly pigeon. Working with highly-amusing people provides a welcome diversion from my otherwise dull employment. I work in an undisclosed job situated in South Yarra. I signed a confidentiality agreement, so details are limited. I can tell you that I sit in front of a computer and make around 35 phone calls an hour to Australians who live in, among other places, Woolloomooloo. Also, Tasmania’s post code starts with a seven.
I’m a 26-year-old living at home with my parents and two sisters in a south eastern suburb, Noble Park. I share a room and bunk beds with my sister, Dharshi. I’m on top. Living with family has a number of perks. My sisters, for example, provide me with alternative fashion choices. My father tries – somewhat successfully – to teach me about the intricacies of cricket (the sport, not to be confused with its distant cousin, the insect). My mother prepares my work lunches. To make up for it, I clean my own room and make my bed.
I enjoy a robust and passionate love affair with all things salty.
