We often recall that before the tsunami of December 2004, a tiny tropical island was on the cusp of burgeoning socioeconomic prosperity, if not a “small miracle”. At times of impending plenty such as that, our island race is prone to forget that not everyone in their beautiful land is able to experience “the wonder [...]

The Sundaytimes Sri Lanka

Tsunamis to tinsel, feasting to floods

View(s):

We often recall that before the tsunami of December 2004, a tiny tropical island was on the cusp of burgeoning socioeconomic prosperity, if not a “small miracle”. At times of impending plenty such as that, our island race is prone to forget that not everyone in their beautiful land is able to experience “the wonder of South Asia”.

The savage sea reminded us that humans are mortal, development inequitable, and social justice still seeking a firm footing in our righteous society’s mud. That an opportunity was lost in the wake of the receding waves will not be denied by even the hardest-hearted naysayer. We may now have a second chance at righting some of the wrongs of that tragedy past, as we struggle to stay afloat in the turbulent aftermath of trauma present.

Of course, I exaggerate. Not everyone is grieving over our golden groves un-leaving. By the looks of it from the reportage on the season it was something of a corker. That nothing succeeds like excess – and pleases the senses, while displacing a measure of sense – was proven. In style. But let’s not grudge the revellers their party! There had been decades of hard times before the banquet at the end of the world (we survived 12-12-12 and 21-12-12, didn’t we?). So it was only natural that the dam of pent-up, self-induced, or externally enforced deprivation would burst. My only worry is that we are carousing far too hard for far too long for it to convince anybody – especially ourselves. Something’s got to give…

Now before you accuse me of being a miserable prophet of doom, let me assure you that I celebrated Christmas too. Except that this year, after a long dark night of the soul vis-ŕ-vis fasting vs. feasting, I discovered what I consider a healthy tension between the two. Being something of an optimist who knows the “reason for the season” (as they say), and firmly believing that in the long run the feast outruns the fast, I know that joy and love and peace and plenty and justice and righteousness will win – in the end. But I have news for you, friends and Romans under empire and countrymen for whom republic is at worst a distant memory or at best a rapidly fading dream. There is work to be done. If we truly believe that our island in the sun is a potential paradise for people of all perceived races, professed creeds, and practised cultural norms.

When power is concentrated for so long at a clutching centre, the people in outer darkness can only wail and weep and gnash their teeth. This is true of Sri Lankans from destroyed northern Palali (a Tamil town); through drowning, once-dry Polonnaruwa (an erstwhile Sinhalese capital); to desolate flooded Puttalam (a Muslim stronghold); to say nothing of slowly developing provinces in the island’s periphery.

Where some have two shirts or more and some none, or some have two meals a day or more and some none, we cannot claim to be righteous communities practising the social justice we preach. (Above, for clothes and food, read two of anything you like… I’m sure you own two of at least something in life… mobile phones? computers? cars? houses? bank accounts?)

Why look to the decadent luxury-loving West which we so claim to despise when they point fingers at us, when our own praxis is ape-like imitation or slavish mimicry to cosmopolitan fads, fashions, and freakishness? What little dignity we can muster from the tattered ruins of our own culture is best invested in the glories of a new civilisation that we can build if only we will unite as a nation again!

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.

[Thank you S. Francis, for that not-so-original prayer! Jesus anticipated you by twelve centuries; Gautama Siddhartha by half a millennium more… We have more that can unite us than divide. If the people lead us in this matter, maybe the religious and political leaders will follow.]

Permit me to end with the wise insights of an apocalyptic poem by Robert Frost:

Some say the world will end in fire,
some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire,
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
to say that for destruction ice
is also great – and would suffice.

Perhaps we survived the late great Mayan Apocalypse for a reason. Now let us pray and work towards a new season of social justice that will stem the end of our world as we know it. For the flood waters of ignorance and apathy to the plight of so many of our fellow islanders will ravage us like no terrorism could destroy and no tsunami devastate.




Share This Post

DeliciousDiggGoogleStumbleuponRedditTechnoratiYahooBloggerMyspace
comments powered by Disqus

Advertising Rates

Please contact the advertising office on 011 - 2479521 for the advertising rates.