CLOTHES LINE

Respect the dead

There were, like me, a few good friends who really loved and appreciated my friend when he was alive - most of them knew him even better than I did. These friends gave him the respect he deserved in life, as well as in death. We had all loved him very very much, and our sorrow and grief cannot be expressed in mere words. His death was sudden and totally unexpected and it will take ages for us to come to terms with it. 

More than anything, we wanted to give him a good send-off, with all the respect that he deserved, for he was mature, responsible, devoted to his friends and family, kind, caring, he never said an unkind word to anyone, and he literally wouldn't hurt a fly. 

Even after he got dengue a few months ago, and very narrowly scraped through with his life, he didn't kill a single mosquito, he'd just flick them away. We really wanted to show how special he was to us by having his funeral go off well. Sadly, we were accompanied by busloads of people who didn't care much for him when he was alive, and cared even less when he was dead. They just made a joke out of the whole occasion, by worrying about food and water and how they looked and how long it was taking - that kind of thing is just not done. They made it hard for those of us who were genuinely grieving, simply because they made us so angry by all their incessant, unnecessary chitchat. 

This whole experience was a real eye-opener for all of us, for, like one of my friends said, it really made us see "which people are nice and which people aren't". 

I hope that each and every one of you who read this who have been to anyone's funeral knows whether you're a nice person or not. Especially those who were there at this funeral. I see no need to elaborate or give any more details. I just wish to say that if you are a "nice" person and have experienced this sort of annoyance, my sympathy to you. If you are not a "nice" person, learn how to behave at funerals, or just don't go. I may not be perfect, but at least I know how to act at a solemn occasion. Learn to respect the dead, and let them rest in peace.

Anonymous

How 'Sri Lankan' are we?

Last week I had the joyous opportunity to join the Sri Lankan students here for a friend's birthday celebration. All these months I had been driving myself insane about the fact that I had hardly met any Sri Lankans and now it was happening. My flatmates calmed me down and waved me off. 

In theory, the Sri Lankan students here can be broadly divided into two categories- those who have lived in Sri Lanka all their life and moved here as International Students and those Sri Lankans who've lived in the UK. I was born in Colombo but, after a year or two of school there, moved to Oman and stayed for most of my life. We have our Sri Lankan School there and so, dare I say, I have been brought up more 'Sri Lankan' than a lot of people my age in Sri Lanka itself. Being away from our motherland, the society and school had strong emphasis on preserving our culture and discipline while at home, I kept my Sinhala in fine condition. We had our yearly visits to Sri Lanka and I loved staying there, but still there was a difference. So, that evening, where did I belong?

Before long the dancing was well under way. It was good and finally, the ice was breaking. I never actually felt one with this crowd and things weren't quite like parties back home but I still wore my smile and was just pleased to be with Sri Lankan people. 

The hardest thing to do, I reckon, is to judge how much of each person here was still 'Sri Lankan'? Behind the accents that had rubbed off, English slang, extensive knowledge on alcohol and the clothes, what were these people really thinking? 

Next weekend I was invited, almost by chance, to a Sri Lankan dinner. They say variety is the spice of life and there, in that house, was a variety of Sri Lankans like I had never met before. There were those girls with the bad hair-do's, those with American accents, those who discussed Sri Lankan politics, those who ate with their fingers, those who used forks, those who spoke in Sinhala and those who did not know Sinhala at all.

The few people I thought I knew well from last week were ignoring me, wallowing in their circle of friends, and so I was left to swim ashore by myself in this deep sea of new people. The food was excellent 'kottu roti and rice and curry' and to many it was the highlight of the evening. It was what they had come for - Sri Lankan food.

The dancing was a bit hard to come by but when the crowd wore thin and only Sri Lankans were left, the Baila came on. Everyone just exploded. Even those guys who claimed they did not like dancing were up, moving their feet. Everyone knew the words and sang along. 

And so I return to my question.

In this quest to find a home away from home, modernised as things may be, are we all really 'all-Sri Lankan' inside? How many of us would return to Sri Lanka and how many of us would stay ' talking in English accents, dancing to Baila and eating kottu roti?

Sleepy good byes were said and the evening drew to an end. Just then the Sirasa Channel was flicked on TV (So, he had subscribed to Sirasa too!) and the much-loved 'guy with the long hair' was walking around with his microphone. 

We were oceans away from our island home and yet, how our hearts bled for her loveliness. It was the icing on the cake. It was almost my answer.

Nishadi De Silva
(United Kingdom)