draft 6

The fighting and bombing had started. At first the war had been distant and mysterious. Tiny silver airplanes, like fishes in the sky, would fly over them before disappearing horizon. Then the bombing had come closer, so close that the bombs shook beneath Surrendran bare feet. He remembered happier times, when he was two or three years old. Sri Lanka was a peaceful and prosperous place then, the tea plantations where the harvests plentiful. At weddings and on temple feast days, he had sat curled in his mother, Vaishnavi’s warm lap nibbling at some rice and sweets, and watching the familiar faces of his father, Jaynesh and brother, Vicknesh dancing by the light of a kerosene lamp in the temple courtyard.
However now, the whole situation was drastic and reversed where even thinking of it sent, a cold sweat down Surrendran’s neck. Surrendran’s father, Jaynesh had vast plans for his family to live in a affluent vicinity even though he was a worker working at the tea plantations after Sri Lanka gained its independence from the British in 1948. Therefore, he aspire to apply citizenship so that his family and him could enjoy elite civil liberties such as education, jobs, housing and voting. Therefore after thinking over several times, he cross the threshold to the kitchen. He wanted to acquaint with his wife, Vaishnavi to mull over her scrutiny.
“ Vaishnavi…” , he exclaimed boisterously .
“ Over here!”, she screeched.
“ I got a something to tell you…”, holding the breath for a second and continued “ …I am going to apply for the citizenship so that everyone here could enjoy the privileges.”
She hesitated for a moment , “ What is wrong of what we are living in right now ?”
“It is nothing wrong with we are living in, but I want a better future for our kids ” , he was thwarted as he forethought that Vaishnavi would be blissful over his decision.
“ If that would give our children a better future I’ll support you then…”, as before she could finish off the sentence she scrutinize her eyes on the wall and beckoned that she was tardily for work at the tea plantations.
On the other hand , Jaynesh was hectically applying for the citizenship. However , he was not granted citizenship as according to Ceylon Citizenship Act of 1948 is only granted to those who either born in Sri Lanka or whose forefathers who were born there. Furthermore, he was retrenched just because he could not speak sinhala. Therefore, Jaynesh was not eligible for the citizenship and he was seething with rant and rave as he was now in a demoralizing circumstances where he is stateless. Besides, his dreams were all utterly wiped out.
Vaishnavi tried calming down Jaynesh as he paces up and down in downright aggravation. The subsequent day when surrendran was walking home to school, he saw ramparts were being wrecked in blood with Tamil phrases such as ‘Our contributions are worth more than your citizenship and then why are we all singled out?’ and ‘Why are our federations are being taken away from us?’. However, Surrendran neither knew what Sinhalese was nor their bigotry till, that week when the ‘Sinhala Only’ policy was established. Thus, the National Language was changed from English to sinhala. This beget in Surrendran having a rigid moment in time speaking sinhala language instead of English.
Late one morning, shortly after Jaynesh had returned from the tea plantations, they heard the sounds of gunfire and bombing in the distance. At first, surrendran did not notice them, until vicknesh lifted his head and listened. Nearby, Vaishnavi had stopped dicing the vegetables in the kitchen and was also listening.
“What is it?” surrendran called to her from the thatched shelter.
“Hush!” , his mother replied erratically.
Surrendran stayed very still and listened, too. The sound was so faint that he thought it might be noise produced from the tea plantation’s machinery. However, then the dull thuds grew louder and lasted longer.
“Bombs,” Jaynesh said quietly. “ The Sri Lankan Army, Sinhalese peasants and Buddhist monks has come to occupy our tea plantation lands.”
It was the quiet, tired way he said it that scared surrendran. As if he had known all along it would had happen, and that he could not do anything about it. Surrendran looked at his mother, whose eyes were wide with fear.
“What can we do?” Vaishnavi asked Jaynesh .
“Start packing,” he said.
Within minutes, they were on the moves. They had stashed whatever they could in the cart. Just then everything exploded. The blast threw surrendran out of balance. He crashed into the an empty pot, sending it spinning through the air. A shell had landed nearby , ripping apart the thatching of the kitchen roof and setting it on fire. Pieces of thatching collapsed onto the matted bamboo sides of the kitchen underneath. Within seconds , the whole shed was in flames. There were screams everywhere. Outside the compound, people started churning, swirling torrent. Like a river bursting it’s banks people fled in every direction, scattering and running into the adjoining fields .Surrendran’s one thought was to find his family. Then he saw his family laying far apart and thrown. Blood oozed out from their bodies and they lay motionless on the ground.

That sudden punch of pain like rock slamming into his stomach. Surrendran and other kids were brought to refugee camps and taught how to use weapons. Even though the Tamil tigers had been wiped out entirely, but how about the young civilians who had taken weapons in their hands?