tgif and the ltte

even for a friday yesterday was an unusually bright day for the ltte. first there was the killing of media personalities sinnadurai selvarajah and his wife relangi selvarajah in broad afternoon sunlight at their office in bambalapitiya. they had been ardent and vocal supporters of minor tamil groups opposed to the ltte. around 1 pm gunman walked into their office opposite st peters college and pumped the couple full of bullets and walked out again.

and then later in the day, around 11 pm, we had the killing of lakshman kadirgama. for good measure, elsewhere in the country, the ltte also shot dead a police sergeant.

however it’s the killing of our foreign minister which will make the most noise around the globe. educated, charming and articulate he was firmly anti ltte and against the formation of a separate state. as he was a tamil the ltte considered him a traitor. it was he who lobbied western governments, america and britain in particular, to ban the ltte. and he was vociferous and firm in his opposition to their policies.

it’s a hazy saturday morning in colombo. the city is quiet. a state of emergency is yet again in place in our blighted country but there is no sign of any visible increase in security. to those who urged a return to war the morning may be slightly alarming as their wishes may about to be granted. as for the ltte, they are probably having a hangover from the night before. less people who opposed them are alive this morning than yesterday.

boldly going

the ill fated shuttle ‘discovery’ is due back on earth sometime on monday. given all the glitches that have affected the mission so far it will be coming home on a wing and a million prayers. chances are that this will be the last of the shuttle flights. meanwhile down in the depths of the russian pacific ocean, a russian mini submarine is stranded and a race is on to rescue the seven sailors trapped inside before their supply of air is exhausted.

meanwhile, a long, long way from home, approx. 8.7 billion miles away from the sun, voyager 1, launched in 1977, is moving out of our solar system. on board it carries a disc, which among other things, carries a recoding of the sights and sounds of earth. it also carries greetings in different languages. the english recording has a child saying “greetings from the children of planet earth”.

our yearn to explore and understand the space in which we live in is the defining characteristic of man. when hilary was asked why he climbed everest he answered “because it is there.”

godspeed guys. flights of angels bring you home.

charles

charles wijewardena was killed in jaffna on thursday. for a cop ( he was sp jaffna at the time of his death), he was a good guy. i met him a couple of times when he was an asp in trincomalee and i remember him as a soft spoken, mild kinda guy. he had a good reputation in the area, which is saying a lot.

but more to the point he was a part of our growing up. who can forget his unbelievable rugby in the 70's and early 80's? that famous match against the havies at havelock park in 1978 when havies were leading 15 - 3? he helped level the scores at 15 all and on the stroke of full time he put over a 50 meter penalty to win the game for the police.

in sri lanka we continue to kill off all that is good. only the politicians remain. maybe there is a corrupted and converlouted point in all this but right now things seem, again, hopeless and dreadful.

bookends

leaving home in our part of the world is a big thing. 16th of may 1981 was a saturday and i was taking the night train to trincomalee. i was working for aitken spence, who in their wisdom, had decided to open an insurance branch office on the east coast, and in their further wisdom, to appoint me there as “branch manager”. the parenthesis is used because the title means nothing. in february of the year before, i had joined the company as a trainee executive and i still was that. my salary was rs. 450 per month.

i had been to trinco twice before. once with the cousin & co as kids and again in the late 70’s with my college pals when we stayed a few days at my good frind sai hung yu’s home in the town. there was something about the place, old dutch forts, mysterious temples, ancient houses, white shimmering beaches and calm aquamarine waters, that got to me. so when asked if i would like to go work in trincomalee, i jumped at the idea. everybody thought i was mad. they still do but that’s another story.

so, there i was that evening with all my earthly goods ( 3 old slacks two shirts, two t shirts, some books, a used two-in-one with knobs missing) packed into a battered suitcase, one of those hard ones which opens with a loud click. ronnie, with faizul on the pillion of his ts 185, had turned up to say goodbye. sai, who had arranged for a place for me to stay in trinco, turned up a little later as well.

around 7.30 pm i leave home in an old black morris minor taxi. i was not to return until exactly five years later but i wasn’t to know that. ronnie, faizul and sai pile in to the taxi as well and we head for the fort railway station. truth be told although i wanted to do this, it was a bit scary. back then living on rs. 450 was still pretty tight. i had booked a “sleeprette” and the three guys help me settle into my seat and lift my bag onto a rack. sai says the train gets into trinco at around 6 in the morning and leaves trinco for colombo at around 9.30 am. maybe i look apprehensive. maybe i look scared. ronnie suggests to faizul that they all make it to trinco, drop me off and catch the train back. sai wants to know if they are mad. he questions their parentage. ronnie and faizul dig their pockets for money. they are fifty bucks short. sai, still questioning their sanity, gives it to them. and we all go off to trinco.

“old friends
old friends
sat on their park bench like bookends
newspaper blowin' through the grass
falls on the round toesof the high shoes
of the old friendsold friends.

winter companions the old men
lost in their overcoats
waiting for the sunset
the sounds of the city sifting through trees
settle like dust
on the shoulders
of the old friends

can you imagine us years from today
sharing a park bench quietly?
how terribly strange to be seventy...”

- simon & garfunkel – old friends / bookends