The celebration of the Sri Lankan Government, which it claims to be the victory against terrorism, displeases me. Displeases me to the extent of deep distress, for this is not the end but just a new beginning. Poor memory people, as we are, tend to forget distress very soon because the value of life is under valued. However, for those who have lost many, it’s a matter of incomplete insurgency. It has brought deep discomfort in me. A rebel who was created and not born is now dead. Should we question the planned separatism by the Sinhalese Government or the unplanned emotions that have succumbed? Why dedicate his life for the freedom of the Tamil people? Why send a son to study abroad and indulge in what he calls freedom? ‘Lead’ from the front and now ‘lead’ on his front.
The journey
1) The Anti Tamil Legislation 1948 – Denial of citizenship for Tamils which proved that Tamils were looked down upon by the so called elite Sinhalese Citizens.
2) The Ceylon Amendment Act – Denied voting rights to Tamils who were not citizens anymore.
3) Bandaranayke then Prime minister, in 1956 declared Sinhala only Official Language Act thereby proving the lack of autonomy and limited education and employment to Tamils.
4) The Bandaranayke Chelvanayagam Pact (BC pact) of 1965 was broken under pressure from the Sinhalese extremists. It was a ‘No Tamil Cause’ pact.
5) In 1971 the Standardisation scheme of education was adopted and qualifying marks were fixed for Sinhalese than for Tamil students, both regarding the language of instruction and the subjects themselves.
6) In 1972 Ceylon was renamed Sri Lanka and the constitution formally made Buddhism its primary religion.
7) In 1975 LTTE was formed and Prevention of terrorism Act was executed by the government which led to the arrest of several Tamil youth.
8) 1983 – The LTTE killed an army convoy of 13 Sinhalese to mark their violent protest that was an uncontrolled burstout of the silent protest.
9) Riots, bloodshed and mass killing of Tamils. Millions of people were dislocated. All tamil prisoners were massacred.
I am reminded of Shri .P.V.Narasimha Rao, the then External Affairs Minister’s visit to Srilanka during the 1983 riots. He had seen killings and riots on his way to the prime ministers office from the airport. The meeting with the then President Jayewardene is said to have lasted for just 7 minutes. After the talks, the riots stopped in 2 hours. Some ‘unquestionable’ doubts, which would certainly provoke intuitive anger. How did the riots stop immediately? Was the attacks planned by the government itself?
India, had tried its best or should I say a ‘nose poking’ kind of intrusion and justified it stating that both India and Sri Lanka had so many cultural similarities and hence any form of unrest would affect the other. But least did they think about the root of the problem, which was the cultural similarity itself.
It was evident that the Sinhalese didn’t want Tamils in their nation. A nation where the seed was sown by the Tamils, Manured by Sinhalese, shared by both and finally when it came to ownership of the land, all was wanted by Sinhalese. 40 years of silent struggle and 30 years of violent struggle and the result… Celebration in the streets of Sri Lanka. A celebration of shame. Not that I am Pro – LTTE and my blood doesn’t boil at the sight of killing. After all, it’s a matter of silly sympathy of a neighbor. I would have been happy if the sweets were distributed at the refugee camps and the people were taken back to their homes.
This is not the end. It’s just a beginning to the end!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Who wants to be a minister?
Well! Guess who wanted it first? Jeffrey Archer, the internationally acclaimed author wants to be the transport minister. His sarcastic remark about people in India driving with the road lines directed to the middle of their cars and not towards the left or right was thoughtful though. Not that I am a big fan of Jeff. Ok! This is confession time…! I have read just two books in my lifetime, ‘The Alchemist’ by Paula Coelho and ‘Painter of signs’ by RK Narayan. I don’t know anything about Jeffrey archer except for the fact that he is an internationally acclaimed author. There was never an intuition or an initiation to glorify the art of book reading, predominantly because I loved playing most of the time and not just sit with a book. However, there has always been a school of thought that reading is also an emotional enhancer that brings a balance to ones life. Sometimes I feel ashamed amidst friends who have so much to talk about books while all I can do is just nod my head.
I met him at the book launch at landmark and was quite impressed by this 20 minute speech and a 30 minute interactive session. Clad in a yellow t-shirt, the 69 year old (eh..young!) man not just tickled every person’s funny bone but our thoughts too.
The Happy me!
1) Crowd thronging across every corridor and pillar in landmark to get a glimpse of this famous man. With so much crowd in a small hall, we were all sweating like criminals in the court of law, yet I seemed to be enjoying it. The reason… I always believed that there was just one place where people wouldn’t mind the heat and sweat but still love the place, a rock concert! This book launch had most of the things similar, like young boys and girls, sweat and ofcourse they loved what they were watching.
2) Jeff’s love and respect for India is indeed very amusing. He considered every reader to be a critic and also mentioned that one needs to be very careful with an Indian reader. He pointed out that most of the hits on his blog were from India.
3) RK Narayanan was his favorite author. A wave of parallelism between my head and his, cut across the crowd in between and a ‘silly’ moment of joy. I loved his remark about RK Narayan. I’ve read just one book of his and was overwhelmed by the simplicity of the plot he handled and the language. I literally used my eye balls to flip the pages because I couldn’t just take my eyes of that 100 odd page book called ‘Painter of Signs’.
4) His love for the ‘realistic imagination’ was very much in sync with my thought of writing a book. Clubbing of imagination and facts are always interesting. Unlike the ‘realistic imagination’ in a political manifesto, which we generally forget after the elections, his new book is about George Mallary a person who had a dream, and when he'd achieved it, there was no proof that he had fulfilled his ambition.
5) The best and most intelligent question was put forth by a kid named Vajresh. He enquired about the convincing capacity of realistic imagination in the book and how Jeff proves the imagination with facts. He stressed on the amount of research that had to be done before writing a book which would convince a reader about clubbing imagination and facts.
The Sad me!
Fake laughter and ‘intended to be heard murmuring’ was prevalent among the audience. Jeff’s jokes didn’t require a higher decibel roar, but most of them were loud. A natural human being wouldn’t laugh as loud as most of them did for his sarcastic remarks. May be the crowd was trying their part of realistic imagination.
The sole intention of going there was not to see how Jeff looked like, but I wanted to listen to his speech. There was convincing evidence that most writers could speak well and also handle the questions of the fans with comforting intuition, after I heard Jeff speak. But the sad part is that I couldn’t here most of it.
The intention of 70% of the crowd was to grab a copy with Jeff’s signature and of course nobody would leave that copy to rest in their bedrooms but would circulate with a sense of pride saying, “Yea… that one is personally autographed by Jeff Himself’. I was there to see what was in him rather than to get what’s with him. Most of the fans were so excited about the fact that they would have a copy of the favorite book autographed by their favorite author and that kept their heart beat pumping and the result… It was pouring through their mouths… Next day I read the papers and it said Jeff autographed copies till 11 pm. Imagine if he was asked to talk about writing books, controversies, success factor and love for India till 11 pm? I would have started to write or atleast read his book for sure.
Now I can only pledge allegiance to the sensational accomplishments and not be obliged by the accomplished sensationalism!
I met him at the book launch at landmark and was quite impressed by this 20 minute speech and a 30 minute interactive session. Clad in a yellow t-shirt, the 69 year old (eh..young!) man not just tickled every person’s funny bone but our thoughts too.
The Happy me!
1) Crowd thronging across every corridor and pillar in landmark to get a glimpse of this famous man. With so much crowd in a small hall, we were all sweating like criminals in the court of law, yet I seemed to be enjoying it. The reason… I always believed that there was just one place where people wouldn’t mind the heat and sweat but still love the place, a rock concert! This book launch had most of the things similar, like young boys and girls, sweat and ofcourse they loved what they were watching.
2) Jeff’s love and respect for India is indeed very amusing. He considered every reader to be a critic and also mentioned that one needs to be very careful with an Indian reader. He pointed out that most of the hits on his blog were from India.
3) RK Narayanan was his favorite author. A wave of parallelism between my head and his, cut across the crowd in between and a ‘silly’ moment of joy. I loved his remark about RK Narayan. I’ve read just one book of his and was overwhelmed by the simplicity of the plot he handled and the language. I literally used my eye balls to flip the pages because I couldn’t just take my eyes of that 100 odd page book called ‘Painter of Signs’.
4) His love for the ‘realistic imagination’ was very much in sync with my thought of writing a book. Clubbing of imagination and facts are always interesting. Unlike the ‘realistic imagination’ in a political manifesto, which we generally forget after the elections, his new book is about George Mallary a person who had a dream, and when he'd achieved it, there was no proof that he had fulfilled his ambition.
5) The best and most intelligent question was put forth by a kid named Vajresh. He enquired about the convincing capacity of realistic imagination in the book and how Jeff proves the imagination with facts. He stressed on the amount of research that had to be done before writing a book which would convince a reader about clubbing imagination and facts.
The Sad me!
Fake laughter and ‘intended to be heard murmuring’ was prevalent among the audience. Jeff’s jokes didn’t require a higher decibel roar, but most of them were loud. A natural human being wouldn’t laugh as loud as most of them did for his sarcastic remarks. May be the crowd was trying their part of realistic imagination.
The sole intention of going there was not to see how Jeff looked like, but I wanted to listen to his speech. There was convincing evidence that most writers could speak well and also handle the questions of the fans with comforting intuition, after I heard Jeff speak. But the sad part is that I couldn’t here most of it.
The intention of 70% of the crowd was to grab a copy with Jeff’s signature and of course nobody would leave that copy to rest in their bedrooms but would circulate with a sense of pride saying, “Yea… that one is personally autographed by Jeff Himself’. I was there to see what was in him rather than to get what’s with him. Most of the fans were so excited about the fact that they would have a copy of the favorite book autographed by their favorite author and that kept their heart beat pumping and the result… It was pouring through their mouths… Next day I read the papers and it said Jeff autographed copies till 11 pm. Imagine if he was asked to talk about writing books, controversies, success factor and love for India till 11 pm? I would have started to write or atleast read his book for sure.
Now I can only pledge allegiance to the sensational accomplishments and not be obliged by the accomplished sensationalism!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
5…4…3…2…1…?
It’s not a count down. 543 seats… 21 (205 to 185 or 165 to 185) cited as the differential magic number to prove the majority. Now the President is saying her prayers. With the largest electoral process in the world coming to an end, we are looking at a tight photo finish. All we should do as citizens is, wait. Few things have made me terribly unhappy.
1) I did not (could not?) vote – Yes. Believe me, I could not vote. I could not work on any transport measure to get me to my polling booth which is 6100 feet above sea level. No justifications, but the truth is, I’m entitled to vote in the town of Coonoor, a hill station in the Nilgiri district. I could not get myself to my home town due to non-availability of tickets and the crude truth is, I had to rethink because I would be shelling almost Rs. 2,000 to go vote and return to Chennai.
I fear the fieriest…! I have not pointed my index finger to caste my vote. Can I point a finger at someone to caste my thoughts? After all, we are Indians and all we can do is write, talk and not act. I am a true Indian! If I had to reconsider my decision due to “simple financial complexity”, imagine the plight of other poor people who are relocated and cannot cast their vote. Guess what the postal ballot rule says? Postal ballot is only for “notified voters”. Anyways… No party is going to notice me once the election results are out, how can I expect to be one of the notified voters?
2) Exit Polls – I know you’ve been waiting to hear this from me, “and the media massacre continues”. I understand how crucial the post poll analysis was those days when it would take 15 odd days for the counting process to end. Now with just 3 days for the electronic machines to spit out the winner, we are contemplating the unwanted. Two media persons, few guests, the so called panelists focused on different windows and chaos is all I can see on the news channels. With the politicians being tight lipped about alliances since majority would be a ‘beg, borrow or steal deal’, why disturb them now? The media should just let the politicians rest. One more request to Pranoy. I saw a very disturbing flash on NDTV a few weeks back. It read as, “Guess the next Prime Minister and win Skoda”. You have demoralized electoral spirits. I’ve lost respect.
3) Hung parliament – The politicians are going to face a very delicate situation on the 16th when the requirement of majority would be based on this funny scenario.
- Before polls – ‘Boo’ your opponent
- During polls – ‘Sue’ your opponent
- After polls – ‘Woo’ your opponent
There can never be a single party majority ever in India. In ‘order’ to bring ‘order’, we need effective alliances. I don’t know what is ethical or unethical because all parties are open to any option. Now that’s what I call ‘secularism’.
4) Party Players Vs. Political Drama – Worst case scenario is what I see.
- UPA – Under Pressure always
- NDA – Not democratic anyday
- Third ‘Front’ – Please look ‘back’
- Fourth Front – No comments
- NCP – Now ceding Primeministership
- Jaya & Maya – Gynophobia
And the list goes on… Amidst all the pressure, the politicians aren’t left alone. Media following them from homes to homicide. What is going to be the final verdict? I am reminded of my football practice story. When I was playing for my school at the sub junior level I could not afford a football boot. Before the final match day my coach said, “This is your last chance. It’s the most important day of your life. I hope you don’t regret it. Please use a football boot. You beg, borrow or steal, but come into the field with a boot”. On the final day I bought one. Though it is a crude comparison, I wouldn’t mind the politicians begging, borrowing or stealing seats from friends and foes. But hope they don’t ‘buy’ them. If it’s going to be a hung parliament, please don’t bring cash inside the house.
Let the votes count and not the notes!
1) I did not (could not?) vote – Yes. Believe me, I could not vote. I could not work on any transport measure to get me to my polling booth which is 6100 feet above sea level. No justifications, but the truth is, I’m entitled to vote in the town of Coonoor, a hill station in the Nilgiri district. I could not get myself to my home town due to non-availability of tickets and the crude truth is, I had to rethink because I would be shelling almost Rs. 2,000 to go vote and return to Chennai.
I fear the fieriest…! I have not pointed my index finger to caste my vote. Can I point a finger at someone to caste my thoughts? After all, we are Indians and all we can do is write, talk and not act. I am a true Indian! If I had to reconsider my decision due to “simple financial complexity”, imagine the plight of other poor people who are relocated and cannot cast their vote. Guess what the postal ballot rule says? Postal ballot is only for “notified voters”. Anyways… No party is going to notice me once the election results are out, how can I expect to be one of the notified voters?
2) Exit Polls – I know you’ve been waiting to hear this from me, “and the media massacre continues”. I understand how crucial the post poll analysis was those days when it would take 15 odd days for the counting process to end. Now with just 3 days for the electronic machines to spit out the winner, we are contemplating the unwanted. Two media persons, few guests, the so called panelists focused on different windows and chaos is all I can see on the news channels. With the politicians being tight lipped about alliances since majority would be a ‘beg, borrow or steal deal’, why disturb them now? The media should just let the politicians rest. One more request to Pranoy. I saw a very disturbing flash on NDTV a few weeks back. It read as, “Guess the next Prime Minister and win Skoda”. You have demoralized electoral spirits. I’ve lost respect.
3) Hung parliament – The politicians are going to face a very delicate situation on the 16th when the requirement of majority would be based on this funny scenario.
- Before polls – ‘Boo’ your opponent
- During polls – ‘Sue’ your opponent
- After polls – ‘Woo’ your opponent
There can never be a single party majority ever in India. In ‘order’ to bring ‘order’, we need effective alliances. I don’t know what is ethical or unethical because all parties are open to any option. Now that’s what I call ‘secularism’.
4) Party Players Vs. Political Drama – Worst case scenario is what I see.
- UPA – Under Pressure always
- NDA – Not democratic anyday
- Third ‘Front’ – Please look ‘back’
- Fourth Front – No comments
- NCP – Now ceding Primeministership
- Jaya & Maya – Gynophobia
And the list goes on… Amidst all the pressure, the politicians aren’t left alone. Media following them from homes to homicide. What is going to be the final verdict? I am reminded of my football practice story. When I was playing for my school at the sub junior level I could not afford a football boot. Before the final match day my coach said, “This is your last chance. It’s the most important day of your life. I hope you don’t regret it. Please use a football boot. You beg, borrow or steal, but come into the field with a boot”. On the final day I bought one. Though it is a crude comparison, I wouldn’t mind the politicians begging, borrowing or stealing seats from friends and foes. But hope they don’t ‘buy’ them. If it’s going to be a hung parliament, please don’t bring cash inside the house.
Let the votes count and not the notes!
Monday, May 11, 2009
To be or not to be…!
There’s one impressive dialogue from the movie TROY where Achilles tells Briseis, “Let me tell you a secret, something they don't teach you in your temple. The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be more lovely than you are now. We will never be here again.”
I had forgotten this very thought that we are doomed, not because I felt like GOD, but with lotsa work and worked up thoughts I doubted the very purpose of my life. Mechanical and monotonous living is the order of the day. I call it organized living. But for our skulls and skins, we are nothing but machines. I may sound like a philosopher or a theorist but this is what lies deep within. We are mortals and why don’t we love the things we do? However, there had been one period of my life where everything was beautiful even without the thought of knowing that we are doomed. Childhood!
Be it pebbles or parker pens, caps or cars, flies or flowers… Everything was beautiful. I loved everything I did sans recourse. ‘Fresh’ thoughts and ‘unfresh’ memories. We never remembered the bad and never forgot the best. But now it is contrariwise. How I wished the Curious Case could happen to Lokesh Vasudevan instead of Benjamin Button. I am an expert baby sitter my self but I have been missing all the “free will” reactions of kids for a while. Recently there had been several encounters with kids that had made me a happy.
1) Deepak, my friend’s cousin. Highly energetic kid. Quiet as he was initially, but later the ray of energy was shining from every smile. Somehow I always get to blend with kids and after a really long time I felt amazingly close to this kid, unfortunately for the very little time I spent with him. From that day, I’ve been a big fan and ofcourse he’s going to be my wingman!
2) A small kid sandwiched by parents in a two wheeler, stayed focused. Incredibly focused on the competitor (that’s me) riding beside. I couldn’t take my eyes of that kid. Was it anger or enjoyment? But as I retreated, a wonderful smile followed and the thought too, upto the destination.
3) Harshi, my niece, who has been mimicking several people, is the love of my life. This incredibly talented kid has a blog for her stories. Recently she has been faking to my parents that it was some other person over the phone and not me. I’ve enjoyed this fun factor.
Coming to the most important reason; this movie I watched last week, “Pasanga”. This is Kollywood’s answer to Taare Zameen Par. No delicate dyslexia involved, but a simple theme where the cornea of the kids has been used as the camera. The Child artists have done an incredibly good job and all seniors please from these kids. Nobody can rate any other movie of recent times better than this. It took me back to my school days. Friendship, jealousy, sport, fun, fight, competition and uncanny emotions. I laughed so loud in the cinema hall that everybody gave me a weird look, as if I was an alien with a big head and a puny body. Just then I realized that I never bothered about others when I was a kid. When I laughed, I laughed aloud.
Everything “seems” to be beautiful now, but when I was a kid everything “was” beautiful. I always wish if I can rekindle the kinder garden age. To be a kid or not be is a matter of choice and not compulsion!
I had forgotten this very thought that we are doomed, not because I felt like GOD, but with lotsa work and worked up thoughts I doubted the very purpose of my life. Mechanical and monotonous living is the order of the day. I call it organized living. But for our skulls and skins, we are nothing but machines. I may sound like a philosopher or a theorist but this is what lies deep within. We are mortals and why don’t we love the things we do? However, there had been one period of my life where everything was beautiful even without the thought of knowing that we are doomed. Childhood!
Be it pebbles or parker pens, caps or cars, flies or flowers… Everything was beautiful. I loved everything I did sans recourse. ‘Fresh’ thoughts and ‘unfresh’ memories. We never remembered the bad and never forgot the best. But now it is contrariwise. How I wished the Curious Case could happen to Lokesh Vasudevan instead of Benjamin Button. I am an expert baby sitter my self but I have been missing all the “free will” reactions of kids for a while. Recently there had been several encounters with kids that had made me a happy.
1) Deepak, my friend’s cousin. Highly energetic kid. Quiet as he was initially, but later the ray of energy was shining from every smile. Somehow I always get to blend with kids and after a really long time I felt amazingly close to this kid, unfortunately for the very little time I spent with him. From that day, I’ve been a big fan and ofcourse he’s going to be my wingman!
2) A small kid sandwiched by parents in a two wheeler, stayed focused. Incredibly focused on the competitor (that’s me) riding beside. I couldn’t take my eyes of that kid. Was it anger or enjoyment? But as I retreated, a wonderful smile followed and the thought too, upto the destination.
3) Harshi, my niece, who has been mimicking several people, is the love of my life. This incredibly talented kid has a blog for her stories. Recently she has been faking to my parents that it was some other person over the phone and not me. I’ve enjoyed this fun factor.
Coming to the most important reason; this movie I watched last week, “Pasanga”. This is Kollywood’s answer to Taare Zameen Par. No delicate dyslexia involved, but a simple theme where the cornea of the kids has been used as the camera. The Child artists have done an incredibly good job and all seniors please from these kids. Nobody can rate any other movie of recent times better than this. It took me back to my school days. Friendship, jealousy, sport, fun, fight, competition and uncanny emotions. I laughed so loud in the cinema hall that everybody gave me a weird look, as if I was an alien with a big head and a puny body. Just then I realized that I never bothered about others when I was a kid. When I laughed, I laughed aloud.
Everything “seems” to be beautiful now, but when I was a kid everything “was” beautiful. I always wish if I can rekindle the kinder garden age. To be a kid or not be is a matter of choice and not compulsion!
Friday, May 8, 2009
Like Polls Rebel!!!
Or should it be “Like poles Repel?” Though the fight for the “7 race course road” (surprised why I mentioned the residential address? You’ve heard 10 Janpath all these days.. That’s why!!!) is on, the great political battle field hasn’t been the way it was earlier. Parties started off accusing each other (hypothetically hurling shoes!) and now its time to be dearly dear to the opponent, wooing alliances against all odds. Hung parliament is what I foresee and all my hopes of a better tomorrow have withered.
Down south where the alliance is pretty strong, the parties have started the dietician trick to give the co-tamilians a safe place to live. But the truth is, “like polls repel.” I’ve had enough of mails containing pictures of Sri Lankan tamil’s distress, filling up my inbox and also my senses with immense sensitivity, but least was I affected. I always compared the LTTE affair to the POK desire. If India fights terrorist and would never give away the snow clad mountains to Pakistan, how would you expect Rajapakse to just give away what LTTE wants? A question that has several stodgy answers. However, I found my strongest of emotions that was buried within outburst yesterday. The two “unimportantly significant” things (in my view) had allied to thrust my tear gland:
1)The media
2)A reality show
I watched the Vijay TV’s “Ungalil Yaar Adutha Prabhu Deva”, a reality dance show. Considerably good one when compared to other reality shows, with very little of talking and immense action. The fourth Semi-finalist Prem Gopal, who happens to be a Sri Lankan Tamil had experienced the Sri Lankan Governments irrational racism towards Tamil at the age of 10. A performance that’s worth nothing less than victory, not just material but emotional because he is not only going to win the show but he would continue to win the hearts of a million people. After the performance he explains, “When i was ten years old, I travelled from Jaffna to Colombo with my mum, dad and sister. We were in a mini bus with 30 other people in Candy. The Sri Lankan Army stopped the mini bus. The road was wide and by it a small stream was running. They made us all get off the bus. Why? Because we were Tamil. Do u know how we all stood there? With our hands up. We stood there for about half an hour”
Not many of us do things that define a purpose and it is never for the betterment of a fellow being. But Prem did the right thing at the right time. A dramatic picturisation of the Sri Lankan Tamil issue. A few metres away I could see Prem’s sister shedding all her tears till the last drop and explains how difficult situations are in Sri Lanka. For once I saw a true depiction of emotion which was not controlled by blood relation but by and for the blood shedding relation.
Though the Sri Lankan government has restricted movement of the LTTE under a final radius of 4 kms, the pain has stretched far north where the distress of congress is evident, and farthest away in London where a considerable number of Sri Lankan tamils continue to shed their tears and money to save their fellow beings.
Two aspects soaring to the skies, the rocket bombs and the price of basic commodities like rice and clothes. As the differently blessed people continue to look up at the skies and pray, I look down with immense shame while the tears from my eyes calm the goddess earth. On touch down, the tears evaporate. Where is god? Up there where Sri Lankan Tamils look or down under where my tear drops evaporate? May be inbetween. Each one of us are Gods. Please stop the War… Let the, “Like poles attract”.
Down south where the alliance is pretty strong, the parties have started the dietician trick to give the co-tamilians a safe place to live. But the truth is, “like polls repel.” I’ve had enough of mails containing pictures of Sri Lankan tamil’s distress, filling up my inbox and also my senses with immense sensitivity, but least was I affected. I always compared the LTTE affair to the POK desire. If India fights terrorist and would never give away the snow clad mountains to Pakistan, how would you expect Rajapakse to just give away what LTTE wants? A question that has several stodgy answers. However, I found my strongest of emotions that was buried within outburst yesterday. The two “unimportantly significant” things (in my view) had allied to thrust my tear gland:
1)The media
2)A reality show
I watched the Vijay TV’s “Ungalil Yaar Adutha Prabhu Deva”, a reality dance show. Considerably good one when compared to other reality shows, with very little of talking and immense action. The fourth Semi-finalist Prem Gopal, who happens to be a Sri Lankan Tamil had experienced the Sri Lankan Governments irrational racism towards Tamil at the age of 10. A performance that’s worth nothing less than victory, not just material but emotional because he is not only going to win the show but he would continue to win the hearts of a million people. After the performance he explains, “When i was ten years old, I travelled from Jaffna to Colombo with my mum, dad and sister. We were in a mini bus with 30 other people in Candy. The Sri Lankan Army stopped the mini bus. The road was wide and by it a small stream was running. They made us all get off the bus. Why? Because we were Tamil. Do u know how we all stood there? With our hands up. We stood there for about half an hour”
Not many of us do things that define a purpose and it is never for the betterment of a fellow being. But Prem did the right thing at the right time. A dramatic picturisation of the Sri Lankan Tamil issue. A few metres away I could see Prem’s sister shedding all her tears till the last drop and explains how difficult situations are in Sri Lanka. For once I saw a true depiction of emotion which was not controlled by blood relation but by and for the blood shedding relation.
Though the Sri Lankan government has restricted movement of the LTTE under a final radius of 4 kms, the pain has stretched far north where the distress of congress is evident, and farthest away in London where a considerable number of Sri Lankan tamils continue to shed their tears and money to save their fellow beings.
Two aspects soaring to the skies, the rocket bombs and the price of basic commodities like rice and clothes. As the differently blessed people continue to look up at the skies and pray, I look down with immense shame while the tears from my eyes calm the goddess earth. On touch down, the tears evaporate. Where is god? Up there where Sri Lankan Tamils look or down under where my tear drops evaporate? May be inbetween. Each one of us are Gods. Please stop the War… Let the, “Like poles attract”.
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