Wednesday, September 30, 2009

To a certain young lady at the class last night...


Honey, I have the greatest respect for your fashion sense and your ability to flawlessly match the hue of your yellow T shirt to your yellow rubber slippers and your dainty toenails painted alternatively in yellow and blue, presumably to match the dangerously low riding jeans, hanging precariously to your hips.

And if your shockingly mismatched thong with it's little pattern of faded strawberries didn't do the trick, I'm sure that the sight of your (thankfully non-hairy) ass-cleft would have been enough to make the rest of the class want to gouge their eyes out. Well... except for the ogling, hormone happy dude whose pimples were exploding at the sight.

I have the utmost respect for your right to stand in full view of everyone and chat to your BFFs while doing a little one footed twirly dance. I'm sure the entire class was entertained when you reached deep into your pants and started tugging the exposed part of your undies "back inside". I'm so glad you realised that the same treatment should be offered to the posterior, and applaud the neatness of your careful half turn at that point.

I may be an old bat nearly twice your age, but seriously... what are young ladies taught at school these days?

Oh yes...

Math.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

I remember Rajani...


Photo credit : Kevin Lemoine

September 21st marked the 20th year of the assassination of Dr. Rajani Thiranagama.

An academic, idealist, feminist, human rights activist and a deeply compassionate human being, she was brutally assassinated as she cycled home to her two daughters. Her killers cynically waited until the last Anatomy examination was held before punping bullets into her head - a defenceless woman, travelling alone. She was only 35 years old.

Indoctrinated to the LTTE ideology by her sister, Rajani cared for the war wounded and campaigned for support both in the UK and in Sri Lanka. An academic to the core, she continued to publish scientific papers, completed her post graduate studies and was appointed as the head of the department of Anatomy at the Jaffna Medical Faculty.

Atrocities in the name of "truth" "freedom" and "social justice", which were merely used as screens for political and personal gain, caused her to rethink her position. She felt there was something fundamentally wrong in a political group that not only had no room for dissent, but also did not allow the dissenters to leave. She rejected the narrow and totalitarian ideology to stand up for what she believed.

Rajani stood up aginst the insane adherence to the gun... she abhorred actions that were cowardly, destructive and unjust. Creating a "space for truth" she co-founded the University Teachers for Human Rights that documented and publicized human rights violations by all parties involved - the LTTE, the IPKF and the state of Sri Lanka. She went on to say "a life is a life... we wanted to show, in the first place, we valued life".

The Broken Palmyrah, a book co-authored with three other academics, describes many mind numbing events - among them the devastation of the Jaffna University, the despicable invasion of the Jaffna hospital, with mindless lobbing of grenades that killed scores of patients and healthcare workers. It provides a brilliant political analysis of the background and early days of a struggle that turned into militancy. It was the writing and impending publication of this book that was the stamp of finality on her death warrant.

Although intially there was doubt as to who her killers were, it was later proven to be the LTTE, who, as usual, claimed no responsibility. The meticulous planning and timing of the assassination was almost a hallmark of their proven brutality. And brutal to the very end, they showed no mercy to the woman who had tended to their injured with such compassion.

And so, on a lonely stretch of road leading away from the Jaffna University, Rajani died. Two children lost their mother. A husband lost his wife. Sri Lanka lost a bright spirit that embodied brilliance, compassion and a deep sense of justice.

When I remember Rajani, I remember the countless others, unnamed, unknown who died pointless deaths for similar reasons. I remember the values she promoted, in precept and in practice.
______________

Friday, September 11, 2009

Love is...

Thanks Surani for the tag and apologies for the delayed post. So anyways, I WAS reading many of the takes on blogosphere... touching, thought-provoking, interesting, sweet and in-your-face-and-up-your-nose realistic (for a given value of real...)

Anywez, for those who are still intersted, here's my two cents...

Love is...

...Mumsie working every day and saving her leave, so that she can be with me when I have a baby...

...Catching Thaththi leafing through old photos of me taking my first steps...

...Darling getting up early every single morning to make tea, just so I can have an extra 15 minutes of sleep...

...Waking up screaming after a nasty nightmare, and being cuddled and shushed into a peaceful slumber...

...Being called to the Nurses' room at 3am on a hectic casualty night, and being given a mug of hot soup...

...Trading insults with Brother...

...Getting a foot-rub from darling, even when he knows there's no chance of getting a back-rub in return...

...Forgetting your husband's birthday and he still hugs you and insists you cut the cake with him - after you remember an entire day later...

...Agreeing to let Brand-New-Hubby have lunch at Rahumanya's on first day of honeymoon...

...Giving your Brand-New-Wife "unlimited" credit as she goes shopping at ODEL on first day of honeymoon...while you have lunch at Rahumanya's with the driver...

...Sometimes overrated....

...sigh....