The escape

Disclaimer: Pure work of fiction,  Read many a articles,  came  across many videos of brutal SriLankan genocide, that prompted for this post.

Though we were warned to stay indoors, the sore disquieting aura that packed the basement of the Ship couldn't be tolerated anymore.  Moving out of the crowded room wasn’t tough, for it was much tougher to withstand the scene outside. The horizon in shades of red, dusk had just dawned in. Sunset was never this painful. For along with the sun, it was me biding bye to my homeland.

A place that seemed to be home does not belong to us anymore. Call it violence or hatred, for the language you speak, for the colour of your skin, they disowned the human in themselves, Bloodshed and vigor spread every where

Some dead, some lost, some perished, whereas some silently endured. And it was us who decided to escape. And then he promised a safe escape. Money was indeed and question, but it answered the love for life. We called it an escape, whereas they called it a retreat.

Sri Lankans were no more Sri Lankans, but Tamil Sri Lankans. Scapegoats and victims, Food for news.

“All step inside, they are near”

Someone dragged me into the basement, door locked, all that could be heard was a series of bang and hits.

Food was inadequate, to last a few days’ supply until we reached the shore, the dry foodstuff were packed in rag newspapers, And one such packet ,  bound the news of my country .

In bits and pieces, I read the news of the death of many a fellow brethren, innocent kids and ill fated women

The banged into, a close look and then everything was quick. Few of them did escape into the vast sea, far better than a brutal death. Not very soon, did we realize we realize the cease. Like the other helpless souls in their custody, back to my vey homeland.

The return journey was very much determined and crystal clear. For I had no regrets. If it is to die, it’s there and not as a refugee.