It was a time
When prayers were heard louder than gun fire
A time when
Eyes glared in the stranger’s reflection
And when the unspoken was buried
In the shadows of silence…
When the clock strikes SEVEN
And the day bleeds into darkness
The books are shut
The utensils are cleared
The doors are bolted
And the lamps are blown out.
We nestle together in our family nest
Just like the fragile petals
Of a blossoming Araliya flower
We hold our breath
Ears strained to the slightest sound.
Dreading the deadly silence
Haunting through the empty streets…
Even with Appachchi’s strong hand guarding us
And Amma’s warmth of affection
We feared the darkness
And the sights awaited us at dawn…
2
If life then, was a circle of terror
It tightened around our necks
Every night
Every minute
Like the noose of the gallows
Every day
We rose to the bustling noise of the radio
And the burnt smell of our own flesh and blood
Even the sun glared down at us
Like a carnivorous flower
‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’
Appachchi used to say
When we set off to school
So, Many things….were deliberately ignored
As long as they weren’t ours…
We walked past…
Crimson streams
Fractured glass
And charred flesh
In silence…..
On our way to school
Until one day
It found us…
I still remember…
The clock striking Nine, Ten, Eleven
Amma’s ceaseless prayers growing louder
Appachchi’s impatient feet scurrying in the dark
3
Waiting for (Him)
Who never returned again…
87’ November
Was like a red wax candle
Burning incessantly
Dripping blood and tears
Every single day followed
Time elapsed
With SIX uncelebrated New Years
And not a single day did pass, without
Amma murmuring prayers to herself
In front of his photograph…
And Appachchi
With his head down
And hands clasped at the back
Walking in silence
From one end of the gate to the other
His shrunken eyes stretching far
Into the empty street
Until one day
The postman arrived
With a stamped certificate, commemorating
HIS latest accomplishment…