Written by
EELATHTHU NILAVAN
This is the secret dialect of spies,
This is the coded alliance of words —
In the name of “Nationhood,” a serpent creeps,
In the shade of “Sacrifice,” another snake sleeps.
Heroic words explode like fireworks,
But truth is absent in the light —
A war photo is flashed to the crowd,
While deals are struck in the dark.
Martyrs are not honored,
They are auctioned in speeches.
The memories of fallen scholars,
Echo in studios monetized for ratings.
History written on green walls,
Gets erased on the toilet walls.
“They are your leaders,” they say,
But those leaders bow to the Sinhala state.
Recognize them —
The shadow of Indian Intelligence
Now etched inside Tamil emotions —
They buy our epic songs,
To sell them in new political packaging.
That “Leader” they parade around,
Is just a bronze statue painted with slogans.
They invoke him to speak of freedom,
But sit in India’s corridors of power.
Opportunist media cries aloud —
“Tragedy! Remembrance!” they scream.
They share old war photos with filters,
To distract today’s resistance stream.
They greet spies on airport tarmacs,
The next day, the Tamils are arrested.
When green-scarved warriors stood beside
Those who jailed our kin — we slept.
Rhetoric —
It is in our language, but not for our cause.
Tearful speeches —
Staged in their grand theatre halls.
Tamil sacrifice —
It is sacred.
But those who sell it in pieces
Act like our saviors in disguise.
We must rise —
Not in blind rage,
But with sharp inquiry.
Who stood for truth,
And who danced in deception?
Seek the villages where our leaders lived,
Walk the ground where they fell.
And with our vote, our voice, our memory —
We shall bring down the masked puppets in power.
❈❈❈
Mother’s Warning
“Remember my soil — Remember my children —
But do not let betrayal walk in the name of memory.”
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Amizhthu’s editorial stance.
