“The gram sellers at Galle Face Green sold their 'kadala gottu' topped with 'isso wade' for twenty-five cents .
The movie goers at Savoy cinema came out; Couples went to Aleric's for
ice cream and families miserly budgeted for Chinese fried rice at
Golden Gate .
Gunawardena opened batting for the Tamil Union and Sunderalingam kept wickets for the Sinhalese Sports Club .
This was once nostalgic Sri Lanka on easy street sans the raging war and the terrible turmoil; 'The way it used to be' .
The 'Yal Devi' took the Madhu pilgrims and the 'Ruhunu Kumari' carried
the Kataragama clan. Marawila fishermen fished at Mullativu with the
monsoon change and Lever's and Reckitt's Sales Reps sold toothpaste in
Jaffna and drank 'Tal Raa' whilst bathing in the Keeramalai tank .
The Vel cart used to come down Wellawatte and the waiters worked double time at the Sarasvati Lodge .
The differences were there from the North to the South, but who cared ?
Nobody killed anyone. There was a life, simple and in peace .
Bala Tampoe took the CMU out on strike every year and the Parliament
changed colours every five years with mythological promises . That was
acceptable .
The queues got long at the CWE to buy 'Jumping Fish'
and the bread prices leapt like high jumpers. Those were our big
problems .
The smiles were there too, affordable to the all and
sundry, beat shows and big matches, sports meets and school carnivals,
all within a ten-rupee budget .
Fashion-wise, the pinnacle was the
CR-Havies Match at Longdon Place; the Suzettes and Claudettes were
there, dazzling in mini skirts, making
their best attempts to get partnered to go to the Coconut Grove and jingo and jive to the Jetliners .
Some made it to Akasa Kade too, to eat egg hoppers and hold hands and
become more naughty whilst pretending to be watching the ship lights at
the Colombo harbour .
There was peace; it was a long long time ago. That was before the
Morris Minor taxis changed their English alphabet number plates .
Then came the carnage. Who's to blame? Don't waste time, that's kicking the moon and corralling clouds .
We all know better. We are all to be blamed, some for cheering and
others for their silence. It has always been 'our soldiers' - but it is
their war .
The guns are silent now and the talks go on and hope
seeps slow like a weed-clogged wave. If the Gods are kind, we'll have
peace. Let it lie there .
North and East must be separate 'Don't
give this', 'can't have that', 'autonomy? what nonsense?' Such
passionate phrases bellow from borrowed patriotism . 'My son has to
study', 'No no, not to join the Air Force', 'Army? Are you mad?' The
same voices add the contradictions 'We must continue to fight at any
cost'. Brave words, quite cheap too when rights and wrongs are just
'whys' sprouting out from empty opinions on even emptier forums .
Try telling all that to mothers who buried their sons or children who pray for their missing fathers .
Voice it to a legless 'Boy' from Velvettiturai or a Sightless soldier
from Devundara. Or maybe to a lover who lights a candle for some
forgotten fighter buried under swollen earth, too poor even for a
memorial.
What does it matter to which side they belonged ?
They paid the price, we didn't. They shed the tears, we didn't .
Let us then wish, nay, that's not enough, let us pray, to all the Gods in creation for 'The way it used to be' to return .
Or ........ let us be all silent ~ we owe that much to those who died nameless”
From an email from an anonymous Nihal, long long ago. The seniors would
appreciate the sentiments, expressed with poetic beauty.
