When Weere(3) got the job back
Riding on the shoulders
“Long live brother Nade(4)….!”
The victorious king
In the victory parade
I was a Tamil

When Siripala(1) was shot
By the squad breaking the strike
Took him in my own hands
And flew to the hospital
I was a Tamil

Both hands punctured
With saline tubes
“Nade, you are my saviour”
Sira(4), you embraced me sobbing
I was a Tamil.

When Kusum(1) was pregnant
And dying on a hospital bed
They never demanded
Sinhalese blood
But just “O” negative
Only I happened to have
I was a Tamil.

“Son, you belong to uncle Nade”
the newborn
Was put in my hands
With tears flowing
Yet, I was a Tamil.

Weere, I hear your slogan
Suppressing the shouting
At the picket line
“Slay the Tamils! Give us the peace!”
“Give us the peace! Slay the Tamils!”
Sira, there’s no hospital here
Only a collapsed heap of bricks
Crushed into pieces
With heartless shelling

Kusum,
Oh! dear Kusum,
If you can see the flow of ‘O’ negative today
How I’ve drenched myself in it
Too much to get absorbed
in to this parched earth…

In the graveyard of my race
Where, all our sons
And grandsons were slaughtered
Here I’m struggling all alone
to gasp at my last breath
Yes,
I AM Tamil!

Written in May 2009

###

1. Weerasena, Siripala and Kusum are Sinhalese names.
2. Nade is a short form of a Tamil name(Nadesan).
3. Weere is the short form of Weerasena.
4. Sira is the short form of Siripala.

###

Mahesh Munasinghe, “Mama Demala”
[Translated By: Malathie Kalpana Ambrose / Ransirimal Fernando]

• My abducted brother found in Colombo National Hospital
• The ‘dobis’ in Colombo: Unseen people, used by most
• Exceptional responses to questions from media
• Reaching out
• On “traitors” and federalism: Beyond the hypocrisy, towards collaboration

Gentlemen of the Black Robes,
you who were called traitors,
we know your Glory!
Hush! Shut your ears!
No Legal Action against
The Power Holders now
just in case
you distress
Their Leader.

A billion ends with nine zeros!
war is indeed costly
on what, pray, was it all spent?
Hush! No questions please!
Just in case
you embarrass
Our Rulers.

The liberated are free
in detention camps,
should another
Liberator descend to
free them.
Hush, Make no noise!
just is case
Our Sensitive Parliament
collapses
At such Heavy Questions.

Do not inquire
about the corpses
appearing here and there
of course, once in a way
Disappearances do Happen!
Hush! Don’t worry!
just in case
The Power and Glory
of our King
that rises by the day
Shatters.

Hungry? Just a little patience!
don’t you know?
this is only the effect
of a world wide crisis.
Hush! Shut the Door!
stay Indoors..
Just in case
You expose
Our apprehensive government
shying away
in Stage Fright
from The People

Hear nothing!
See nothing!
Say nothing.!
Until the little child
who saw through
the Emperor’s Clothes
…Into the Nakedness,
Arrives
To
Awaken Us.

Poem by Mahesh Munasinghe, August 2009. Sinhala original can be read here.

• A night in war time …
• Post-election updates from Colombo
• Breaking news: Flooding and unrest again at Menik Farm?
• Disappearance
• Beauty

Baby Elephants- dearly beloved elders were killed before their tender eyes
Baby Elephants-arms, legs, teeth shriveled with the pain of the bullet
Baby Elephants- loose wrinkled skin hangs off starving, haunted frames
Baby Elephants-left over remnants of humanity scraped up from
The scorching earth of Vanni

Yes, they are Tamil.

Baby Elephants-no newspapers flare up for them in bold headlines
Baby Elephants-no person steps into the streets to demand their well-being
Baby Elephants-no believers in Ahimsa to speak for them, the intellectuals are mute
Baby Elephants-no one to beat their chest wailing “aney” “apoi”2 at their fate

Yes, they are Tamil.

you know
that your mothers
lie dead.
breasts heavy with
the swollen pain
of hardened milk.

you know
that your fathers
lie dead
who stomped the earth
trumpeting intensely
standing guard.

Whom are you the Beloved of now?
you know
no countrymen will
offer poojas to the gods
with flowers, incense or lamps
for you.
no countrymen will
make vows
at the Dalada temple
for your  tomorrow.

Baby Elephants-you whose eyes shed tears at every little hurt
Why do you not cry now?
as you lie curled up,
fallen in a heap
here and there.
in an orphaned corner
like a foetus.
in an abandoned camp.
an unknown world.
Behind Barbed Wire.
Unbeloved..

Translation by Francesca Bremner

2 terms of anguish

• Prices Improve In Jaffna
• Hear My VOICE: Thenuja Tharmeshwaran ~ “I am always my father’s favourite”
• Confessions
• Yes, I am Tamil!
• Headlines

They set me on the wrong path
He blames,
pointing to his friends
A young rebel in a
Lonely rehabilitation camp
Dreaming of a quick release.

He frets about the cruelty
of his Organization
on Rupavahini.1
Thinking
some good may come of it
An old retired warrior
Now surrendered into
Military Custody.

Praising the military loudly
He serves
sambhar2 into Sinhala plates.
A Tamil waiter
in Colombo
fearing his own
Sudden Disappearance.

The Sad Truths he brought
from a forbidden war zone
are untrue
He recants
to the Rupavahini amidst
a circle of
Military Weapons.
A doctor
who treated
thousands of wounded.

Her daughter was a traitor
Disowns a Sinhala mother
of her daughter who died
of a Sinhala bullet
for a Tamil homeland.
an elderly agitated voice
amongst those celebrating an
Ultimate victory.

I see
the desolation of
an Abandoned
Cause
beneath these
Renunciations.
and read
through
the distance
eyes
heavy with
guilt.

Yet..

If only these
spoken words
had remained Silent…

I sigh.

Authors note: Originally written in Sinhala and titled Papochcharanaya. The translator wants be appeared as unknown.

2 A soupy dish considered to be Tamil

For more information, click here.

• Dancing In Sympathy (Mullaitivu)
• Rupavahini, Ranil and the media
• Eyes Wide Shut: Media illiteracy and propaganda in Sri Lanka
• Interview with Mano Ganeshan on abductions of Tamils in Colombo
• Shanthi Sachithanandan on July 1983