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Sunday, 6 December 2009

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Human tsunami

And the world looked on as always
Standing apart lining the verge of
The railway track above the ocean
At a safe elevation, forming a human
Barricade among the out jutting rocks
For themselves a protective bastion separated
From the savagery they witnessed.

No one moved.
No, not a soul.
Bodies took up their stance
In relaxed postures, arms crossed,
A leg comfortably stretched out,
Unflinching gaze yet alert,
A child too standing among the
Striplings and older men.

No one plunged into the ocean
To save the hunted man.

No one made an attempt to wrest
Those upraised poles from the hands
Of the attackers as the blows rained
Down, upon that defenceless body.

Was it fear for their own lives,
Fear that the brutal assault would be
Turned on themselves next if anyone
Were to oppose that daemonic power
And bestial force, that thwack and thud?

Three men, bare to the waist, well muscled,
Waded into the shallow water, moving in,
Getting closer, closer while the victim,hapless,
backed off trying toward off those deadly
Blows on his naked arms, he bore no weapons.

Yes, there was a victim,
It could have been me,
It could have been themselves,
It could have been you,
And there have been, from time
To time, others as helpless and
Unweaponed.

This time it was the other.
We were, in the meantime safe,
But for how long, no one knows.

This was no attempt at life saving
There were no lifeguards to swim out
To test their skills and prowess.

'Where were they anyway?
This victim was no surfer
or drowning man caught up
In difficulties waving a desperate hand
As he went under.

No, there were no hands outstretched
To draw him back to the safety
Of the shore.

Chased into the sea,
Stripped, half-naked,
One man later said
The victim was of unsound mind,
Threw stones at random."
No one paused to ask him why.

Three men, attacking one man,
Not an uncommon sight in public streets,
Sometimes the victim caught up in
Drunken brawls, insensate fury uncontrolled.

But here?
That man fronting his assailants
Stretched out his arms like Christ - Jean Arasanayagam

********

The poet recalls an incident that occurred during the tsunami where a man was killed by three. The poem commences with a gory scene in the immediate aftermath of tsunami. Naked bodies are laid on the beach. The poet has been able to portray the scene in an effective manner. Towards the middle of the poem, comes the incident where three men kill an innocent man; the victim is being described as a person with an unsound mind. It is a lame justification of a heinous crime. How pathetic is the silence on the part of the on-lookers. The poet questions that anyone can be a victim. The man stretches out his hands like Christ before he goes down among the waves. The poet uses a matter-of-fact language and arrives at the conclusion in a convincing manner. -Indeewara Thilakarathne


A tribute to war heroes

Dwelled in the bivouacs dotting the jungle
Sans their comfort of life during jungle tide,
The sons of the soil, the brave soldiers,
Determined to do or die in the war-
A war against a three-decade terrorism.
At the alter of terrorism their lives laid;
Some crippled for ever, eyeless, limbless,
But undauntedly braved the remnants
The bullets and the grenades and the missiles,
And vanquished the villains of peace.
Creaked and crunched the thicket
When their boots impacted on the abundant shrub;
Rifle slung and ammunition packed,
The soldiers weaved through the woody path,
Creeping, crawling in camouflage kit,
Meticulously followed the top dog's strategic plot
And routed the monster of terrorism.
Crinched and crunched the foliage dense
When, kissed the earth, their grubby boots,
The soldiers, unshaven, uncombed and unwashed,
Defiantly walked past bunker after bunker of weapons
And extirpated the whole gamut to smithereens.
Clip-clop, clip-clop, soldiers' boots kissed the earth
When trekked deeper into the jungle the valiant troops,
Despite the booming of guns, blast of bombs around them.
And converged at the 'bull's eye' from diverse direction;
Alas! the buccaneers of peace faced their waterloo in water,
In the exchange of fire on a dark night.
Caught the absconding ruffians, the troop's fusillade
And robbed the daylight of the villains;
Thus ended the ghastly, man-massacre war.
President's green light to eradicate the menace
Despite international pressure against it;
The commander's farsightedness and strategy,
And the soldiers' blood, sweat and toil.
The tribute goes to all of them
But the war heroes are deservedly those in the battle field. A.F. Dawood

 In the poem, the poet portrays a guerrilla battlefield where the war is waged at the whims and fancies of a ruthless terrorist leader. -Indeewara

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