Showing posts with label Creative Writings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creative Writings. Show all posts

Friday, January 29, 2010

The Anguish will Continue……………..

Sivaprashanthi. Thambaiah ( Shanthi)
[Translated by : Sarvarakshani. Thambaiah ( Rakshi) ]

Didn’t see my mom’s face
Didn’t touch my dad’s hands
Didn’t eat from my sister’s hand
Didn’t get sweets from my brother
I’m crawling on the dust
Of a refugee camp……..

The coconut in our garden
Never bowed its head
It had coconuts left
No matter how many you pluck

We ate only on the tip of the banana leaf
With much delight and pride
The rice that was brought from our own field
(Tip of the leaf is considered to be special and given only to heads of the family or on very special occasions)

Five kinds of pittu (a meal made from rice flour)
Fish gravy prawn gravy
Crab neththeli (a small variety of fish, commonly cooked in villages)
Every thing that flies and crawls
What did I miss?

The smell of ghee
From our village egg plant (gravy)
will stay on our hands for two days

This much happiness
We lost all now
I’m all alone………..

My machchal (cousin) from Canada spoke
But I couldn’t understand
She said ‘chips’ she said ‘bakers’
The rice I got in the camp from the charities
Is very hot, the egg plant is too spicy
My dear Canada Machchal (cousin from Canada)
Can you ask my Maami (aunt) to send me
A spoon of milk curry (a spoon- colloquial way of saying ‘little/some’)

In the pictures my priyamma mahan (cousin brother) sent from London
I see a big house and a car
But my Anna’s ( elder brother’s) push bike
Has gone into pieces in the shelling
But don’t send us a bike
Anna (elder brother) has no legs to ride

Periyappa!! (father’s elder brother) in France
Sithapppa!! (father’s younger brother) in Germany
periyamama !!(big uncle) in Switzerland
My mother used to boast
To the whole village….
My bothers shower their love at me
They send me money
They call me (on the phone) all the time
As soon as we get ‘Tamil Elam’
They say they are going to come here
I need to look for lands
To build two big houses

Periyamama!! Sinnamama!! (big uncle and small uncle)
My mother who stood alone
On behalf of you and I
To see the Tamil Elam bloom
Is lying dead on the ground
Will you come to pour milk???............. (Close relatives are expected to be present at the funeral to pour milk as the last rite/ritual )

The Flag

Sarvarakshanthi. Thambaiah
[Inspired by a photograph by a SriLankan blogger whose name unknown]


It was all like a bad dream
Of yester years
One fine morning
Peace has arrived

Peace has arrived
So we are told
so we believe
So we behave

The flag on the light post
One corner still tangled
No one notices
As the smoke form the crackers
Blinds the eyes

Collection of Literary Pieces on the Theme of Forced Migration

Mohamed Feroz Pakkeer Mohideen

Introduction

End of war does not mean end of displacement and its consequential effects. The displaced people are facing immense difficulties in the situation of displacement whether there in Relief camps or with friend and relatives.

Many people are lost their place of origin, the properties, family members and life with dignity and liberty. The relief and humanitarian assistance could be support them to recover few of the losses. Here some of the literary pieces express about the suffering of war and displacement.

ONE: A Poem from a School Child
Written by: Sivaramya SriChandran,Ramanathan Hindu Ladies College, Colombo-04

Can the Dead be Resurrected?

Even if you roll on the ground
Lose your senses,
And give out sounds of distress
Will human beings grow back from the field watered by your tears?
Will the dead be resurrected?

This is the karma of this birth
The soil of our country is wet with our blood
How many of countless lives and
Property that we have lost…

We lost our villages, our identities, our loved ones
Our kith and kin….
Fall on the ground like dried leaves
Will there be rains for these withered plants?
Will there be dawn for us?

TWO: A Poem from a Displaced Young Woman

This poem was published on a quarterly journal (April 2000) in Sri Lanka. Ms. Nasrin who was forcibly evicted in 1990 from North Province of Sri Lanka wrote it. She was expressing her suffering of forced displacement within the own country.

Un-Dawn Nights
Written by:Ms.Nasrin,Pravagam (April 2000) Quarterly Magazine, Sri Lanka

We were fled on that evening
from our houses, cottages ….
Without unwilling minds

Any one of us were not allowed
to take our cats and cattle, …..
Even our young ladies were scanned
Without bear any rings & trinkets…

The darkness of the night was covered our young girls,
The trees were feed us….
The moon was directed us…
But
The human only were not showing his kind upon us.

We were fled on that evening
from our houses, cottages ….
Without unwilling mind

Three: A Poem from School Child

Leaving My Birth Place, and My Home Town
Written by: Shamla Yusuf,Muslim ladies College, Colombo

My happiness and sorrows
Triumph and loss
Friends and families
bidding goodbye to all
No more joy in my life
All I have is a ragged old bag and sweet memories
Why am I a refugee in my own country?
Why am I scared of my own people?
Why should I suffer in hunger and thirst?
The hunger for peace and thirst for happiness?
Is this what life is all about?
Then why should I live?
When I say this now
Hits me a gun shot
and I lay there in tears on the truck
a boy sees me and feels the same

Four: A Poem from an Inhabitant Child

We Need True Peace
Wrritten by: Ramyahasini Wijieyakumar,Vadivambika Tamil Maha Vidiyalayam, Chilaw, Sri Lanka

These arms have never bagged
Even though they were poor
(now) they have not only been made to bag
But have been made to cry in despair

Isn’t our soil one which has seen
Hard work and education?
Is it not fate that made (us)
Beg from all and sundry?

We don’t want dry rations
We want true peace
Even if old age overtakes
We first want peace

We need it so that
At least our future generations can live relived -
What is the cost of independence?
This is the situation of the people of the peninsula

Five: A Story

People Who are Hoodwinked by War
Written by: Kusala Chamari,Wejieratne Swarnapala Girls School, Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka

Even in our dreams we did not imagine this will happen to us. Our Chena cultivation has been destroyed, rendering us poor. Our lives and our children’s lives are endangered due to the war. We exported rise during the reign of king Parakrama, but now we are reduced to begging in the camps. This situation was so unexpected. We recollect our past when we were together, with tears strolling down our cheeks. But there is no one to wipe these tears away.

War destroyed everything. Need to overcome this situation. We need food and we need peace of mind. Will we even see the peace bird fly in our skies?