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.
