Each time I see a soldier, my mind shifts into ‘mode chaos’.

When I was a kid, things were black and white. They were my heroes; the guys who were taking the bullet for me, so I could get about with my life as I know it. They were the brave guys who would safeguard our beloved motherland from all that was evil. I would always return their smiles if I ever caught their eye. I’d even quite willingly stop for a chat sometimes, if they initiated conversation. It was the very least I could do to show my gratitude to the guys who had ‘given up their today, for our tomorrow’ right? Everything was so simple then.

As I grew up …

continue reading

“Oya Sinhalade? Demalade?”

I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve had that question asked from me over the years. Ironically enough, in these days of ‘peace’ I’ve had it asked of me more and more frequently. Firstly in Colombo and now in Jaffna too. Jaffna – a town where 99% of the resident community is Tamil, the question is still asked. But why? What can one possibly gauge/assess by the response to that response? If both Sinhalese and Tamils are meted out the same treatment at a check point (or anywhere else this question is asked) what possible need is there to ask this question, unless our post-war land of ‘no minorities’ is a complete and utter falsehood?

A …

continue reading

I’ve moved to Jaffna on work. Everyone I know seems to think I’ve done something great and inspiring, to have moved here to help people. Firstly, I don’t think I’m better than anyone else for having moved here. I felt that being closer in “proximity” to issues that matter to me, would on some level bring me solace by means of contributing in some way to justice being served to a community that has long been deprived of it. So there really is nothing exceptional about my “move” as it were.

My biggest fear when moving? Well, I guess it had to be the issue of, acceptance, or should I say, the lack of it. To be considered an “outsider” imposing …

continue reading

Note: Contrary to what you might assume from the title, this is not a general onslaught on the diaspora at large. This is based on two recent incidents that really ‘got my goat,’ in a matter of speaking. Therefore, I’d like any readers who’d fall into the bracket of the ‘diaspora’ to please take the contents of this letter in that context, and not as an attack on anyone who’s ever stepped off the shores of sunny Lanka. Also, I’d like to add that I have absolutely no political affiliation or agenda to achieve by writing this. It was just two pieces of news that really got to me, so I just had to write this. That’s it.

Dear RCD,

I …

continue reading

[Authors note: This is something I wrote a few months ago, that still resonates I believe with our society today.]

I was on my way for practice yesterday, when I passed the Bambalapitiya Kovil, all lit up, and people thronging the entrance. I was a bit early, and also realized that I’d never set foot into a Kovil in Colombo before, so I thought, why not? Having criss-crossed past the entrance three times or so, I asked the flower garland kade man if there was some sort of special festival going on at the Kovil. He said, yes, that there was a Pooja going on. I asked if anyone could walk into the Kovil, to which he promptly nodded a ‘yes, …

continue reading

A young boy was drowned in broad daylight this week. Though not a single newspaper carried it, I’m told B. Sivakumaran was his name. He was “believed” to be mentally retarded and known for throwing stones at passing vehicles and trains. Approximately 100 people watched him die. One even managed to capture on film the final five minutes of his life.

That five minutes of footage could have been of a possible rescue by one of the 100 or so spectators.  Or, that five minutes of footage could have been shot at the same time a call for assistance was made to the nearest Police Station, by someone present in the crowd. This was the heart of Bambalapitiya after …

continue reading

It was one night some years ago that I realized how deep discrimination against Tamils runs in Sri Lanka. We were all stopped at a checkpoint and I happened to notice that my friend’s National Identity Card (NIC) had some extra lettering to mine. At a glance, it somehow seemed more crowded than mine. After going through the paces at the checkpoint, I asked for my friend’s NIC to have a closer look. It was only then that I discovered all Tamils have their names and addresses written in Tamil, in addition to and under the Sinhalese script. I realized then just how deeply ingrained discrimination ran in our system.

I’ve heard the justification that NIC’s are written in Tamil so …

continue reading