From as long as I can remember, there was a war in the North.
I recall the earliest awareness in 2nd grade - I forget what subject we were being taught - it was probably Social studies (we called it Parisaraya) and a someone wanted to know who the 'Tigers' were and why they were in a war with us. The teacher (I remember she was a plump and motherly dear) said the 'Tigers' were some very bad people who wanted a piece of our country for themselves. And all of us were completely outraged - as much as it was possible for 6 year old little girls to be outraged - that the teacher had to slap her desk to call for silence.
As we grew up, our generation sort of learned to overlook the war.
It was always there. It was like an incurable sickness that was growing inside us for so long that we did not know what it would be like to be cured.
Indeed most of the time, we did not believe it would ever be cured.
Terrorists became a part of our lives.
I remember hearing the bomb blast in Central bank and seeing the black smoke writhe up to the sky like some hideous snake in '96. We experienced so many terrorist attacks in later years that I have lost count.
Our schools became barricades. At one time we could only take transparent plastic bags to school. Even then we had to go through security checks at the entrance.
We lived under a cloud of fear. We learned to doubt the sincerity of our brothers and sisters as we forgot to stand straight in pride.
We lost loved ones. We lost so many things.
But now ...
For the first time in my life, I don't have to wonder wistfully what it must be like to visit the North.
I don't have to wonder if there is room enough on my little isle to be broken off to pieces.
I feel as if something heavy has been lifted off my heart. I think I can feel something softly brushing my face and rustle my hair.
I think those are the winds of change... I hope so.
I recall the earliest awareness in 2nd grade - I forget what subject we were being taught - it was probably Social studies (we called it Parisaraya) and a someone wanted to know who the 'Tigers' were and why they were in a war with us. The teacher (I remember she was a plump and motherly dear) said the 'Tigers' were some very bad people who wanted a piece of our country for themselves. And all of us were completely outraged - as much as it was possible for 6 year old little girls to be outraged - that the teacher had to slap her desk to call for silence.
As we grew up, our generation sort of learned to overlook the war.
It was always there. It was like an incurable sickness that was growing inside us for so long that we did not know what it would be like to be cured.
Indeed most of the time, we did not believe it would ever be cured.
Terrorists became a part of our lives.
I remember hearing the bomb blast in Central bank and seeing the black smoke writhe up to the sky like some hideous snake in '96. We experienced so many terrorist attacks in later years that I have lost count.
Our schools became barricades. At one time we could only take transparent plastic bags to school. Even then we had to go through security checks at the entrance.
We lived under a cloud of fear. We learned to doubt the sincerity of our brothers and sisters as we forgot to stand straight in pride.
We lost loved ones. We lost so many things.
But now ...
For the first time in my life, I don't have to wonder wistfully what it must be like to visit the North.
I don't have to wonder if there is room enough on my little isle to be broken off to pieces.
I feel as if something heavy has been lifted off my heart. I think I can feel something softly brushing my face and rustle my hair.
I think those are the winds of change... I hope so.
Beautiful...
ReplyDeleteTime to welcome the winds of change with open arms. :) Hopefully it is brining good fortune for all of us.
ReplyDelete@Sachintha
ReplyDeleteThanks! Just wrote what I felt :)
@Azrael
Yes indeed! Lets hope they bring change for better...
The only thing I said to my self the next day I woke up was
ReplyDelete"damn ! ... for the first time in my life.... I woke up in a free country"
But winds of change have to be hard earned, for 3 generations of us have grown up hating the war (or the Tamils though we do not except because it's politically incorrect) and wise verse they (the Tamils) also hate us.
The bottom line is, we don't like them and they don't like us ! .. and the bottom question is... How long is it going to take to restore that trust we had 30 years ago?
I am guessing another 50 years till our 3 generations dies off and a whole new set of young blood takes over where they "ONLY" read in books that there was a war !
and let's hope those BOOKS will be politically correct than that of what we have in our hearts and minds right now !
@Nash Node
ReplyDeleteI don't hate Tamils. I really dont have a problem with a person's race. I know quite a few Tamils and they're really beautiful people..
What I REALLY hate is the LTTE and what they stood for. And what they made us into.
But then I know most Sinhalese have a trust issue with them (Tamils). Most of my friends do. Almost all of my parents generation do.
Yeah it's sure to take time. But I hope it takes less than 50 years. :)
Great post! Think this is the greatest opprtunity we had for last 30 years to build a better country for our future generation!
ReplyDeleteBTW I have Tagged you!