The Jew, the Racist, the Zionist-Who is the real enemy?

Many times we have come across these terms being intermittently used to describe the oppressor who continues to aggravate the Palestinian plight. But who then is the actual culprit? Is it the average Jew who celebrates Hanukkah and reads the Talmud? Or is it the Zionist who champions the cause of a separate Jewish state in both the legislative and operational levels? Or can it be the plain old Racist who has a bone to pick with anyone categorized as "The Other"?

To find out let’s have a look at a simple experiment carried out by a set of actors who stage a pre-scripted scenario. The experiment carried out which is in many ways is similar to Augusto Boal's Forum Theatre aims to measure the degree of reaction it stirs up in the unsuspecting persons visiting a gas pump in a Jewish neighbourhood.





I have forever campaigned for justice to be meted out to the Palestinians which they very well deserve, and I have always opined that the actual problem lies in racism and not in religion! Racism leads to Zionism and Zionism does not lead up to Judaism!

It is an unfortunate coincidence that the average Jew in Israel is brainwashed with a racist ideology which is in principle contradictory to the teachings of their scriptures. The educational curriculum, legislations passed and Religion is used as scapegoats by extremist elements in both camps to further the Arab-Israeli divide. The solution to the 60 year old conflict lies in having empathy and understanding towards the other and to respect the differences which are an intrinsic part of the values for which we stand for. Majority of the folks who happend to be caught up in this experiment looked beyond the rhetoric and connected humanely to the issue at hand. John F. Kennedy was right when he said:

Our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal.

“Everyone shall taste death. And only on the Day of Resurrection shall you be paid your wages in full. And whoever is removed away from the Fire and admitted to Paradise, he indeed is successful. The life of this world is only the enjoyment of deception (a deceiving thing).” (Al-Qur’an 3:185)

When the Game of Life Ends....

The sun threw its fury at the parched up land
The wind scattered the dust in its merciless sway
The silence of the dead screamed out in the sand
As the murdered bodies motionlessly lay...

Once a father, a brother an uncle a son,
Fallen prey to the metal that drains out the life
and their families so dear, their lives undone
Destined to live a life engulfed in strife!

Whether it be the kings perched up in their thrones,
and the clean suited world leaders in all their good grace
Or the killers who deal with blood diamonds and stones
Make the innocent a pawn to their evil ways.

Hungry for power and blinded in their sight
They invest in war to benefit their fame
But know that the King, the Pawn and the Knight
are thrown to the same box after the game!

The world burns and WE dwell on its ashes!

I was browsing the internet till I came across a video which changed my whole mood. The thirst to catch the previous day’s six nations rugby highlights on youtube was bitterly quenched by a video which happened to be posted on my video feeds.

I fail to comprehend the silence in which the world seems to watch the atrocities carried out by a supposed Democracy on a helpless nation. What is it so dreadful that the Palestinians have done to the Zionists such that they deserve to be entirely cleansed from the Ancient Lands? A suicide bomb here and a car bomb there is no match for the targeted rockets that the Israeli Defence Force (IDF) so frequently dumps on Gaza and the West Bank. Some even say that Palestinian kids could one day grow up to set a meet record in the Olympics for the “Put-Shot” event with all the stone throwing practice that they seem to get for free. Understanding the essence of this conflict makes us differentiate between a democracy and an anarchist rule.

We may live in a country whose government neither supports nor speaks up against these misdoings, but we can! Click on the link below to take you to an independent poll carried out by a website dedicated to such polls. You decide where you fit in and your decision will be a reflection of your human conscience

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCFq_CgqT8k



http://www.israel-vs-palestine.com/LK/EN/vote/page/5

The last lap before death........

It’s amazing how we complain so loud,
Of the smoldering sun,
Of the vanishing rain cloud

A seldom raindrop quenches the sand,
No water this season,
No crops in the land

Oh why do we keep begging?
For gods gifts that come free
When his blessings are many
Like the fruits on the tree

How long will it take?
For to know when to cease
The pillage of Mother Nature
So we leave her in peace

The building so high
Shoots smoke up the sky
And pumps out black water
To the river close by

The tree stays so silent
No birds on her head
Her branches are withered,
Her flowers drop dead

Where are the trees
That gave shade from the sun?
Where are the rivers
That made her quiet run?

How long will it take?
For to know when to cease
The pillage of Mother Nature
So we leave her in peace

Then came a day when I knew I was done
My life flashes before me as I looked past my son
at the tree that lay silent having beaten me to the grave
No trees did I plant, No water did I save

My son I called over and spoke in his ears
These free gifts I wasted in all my good years
The cancer I die from has done justice to my soul
Saving Mother Nature should be your prime goal!!

Wesley's Flanker outflanked and the little Bullet outgunned!

Randhil Thilina after being crowned U-17 All Island Champions


Chanaka Peters at Singer-Sri Lankan Rugby Sevens 2006

The 1st of May was solemnly moving close and the heaviness of the surroundings had a lasting effect on my state of mind. It had nothing to do with the Labour Day which is globally commemorated; rather my thoughts trod on the wings of time exhausted three years afore.

“It’s settled then, no practices on Monday………take good rest and come back fresh on Tuesday” These were the words spoken by the captain and echoed by the seniors of a team which more than fancied itself to bring home lost glory in the rugby arena. This was Friday the 29th of April 2006 which was to be followed up by three whole days to spend as we wished.

The bulk of the team were final year colours-man and candidates for the Advanced levels. The rare holidays were grabbed with both hands to make up for lost study time and to rejuvenate the body that was tortured by the continuous rugby drills more suitable for Airmen than for rugby players.

The weekend flew like every other and the only free day that remained was the public holiday dedicated to mark the May Day. The fateful day dawned, the morning disappeared into thin air and afternoon merged with the night in the wink of an eye. Determined to make use of the late night to remove the guilt of staying idle during the day, I sat on my table right after dinner and went on with my pre planned work. The crowd of family members around me disappeared into their places of rest with the ticking of the clock and what remained was a lonesome figure poised over the pages of a notebook lit up by the dim rays of lone study lamp.

“rrrriinggggg…..” the phone screamed and I raced to pick it up fearing it would wake up the folks at home. Who the hell would want to call me at this hour I was wondering.

“Hello Machan mey Yasa………” he did not need to finish the sentence as his voice was ever to familiar. He’s the chap closest to me in the thick of the rugby game by virtue of position. There was a distinct urgency in the voice of Yasas that was heard very rarely and which emerged only when he was put under intense pressure as the team’s full-back.

“What’s up man??” I quizzed. It is then that he proceeded to tell me how one of our very close colleagues Randhil Thilina had been lost at sea. I was jolted from my half daze “what???”

“Yeah”, he said “He had gone on a family outing and has drowned himself while trying to bathe in the sea, his body has not yet been recovered……………the navy is still at work trying to find a trace of him”.

Randhil for most was a rebel, a man on his own-a lone ranger. His peers respected him, most juniors dared not cross his path and the seniors were cautious in their dealings with him. This reaction was demanded by the direct approach he took to matters which concern him which would have been seen as rash to some. However, people with whom he confided knew him to be a faithful friend, humble in character and meek in approach. All these values were tightly bound in a thin cocoon which had the potential to explode when the need arose.

For those who didn’t know him, Randhil was 175 pounds of pure energy which had in abundance grit, perseverance, an uncanny physical fitness larger than his frame, an unrelenting friendship and the brains to go with it. He was at the peak of his game, topping even the fastest of backline players in his fitness and form. In other words, he was a player marked as a potential threat for all teams vying for honours in the rugby league of that time. His loss indeed created a great void which we figured we would never be able to compensate.

The flanker of the team was effectively outflanked by the waves of the ocean which continued in its flow indifferent to its guilt. While players like Randhil were in the limelight, other junior players were slowly but surely sprouting in his shadow. The replacement for Randhil was found in a place we least expected it to emerge from.

Motivated by the success enjoyed by the senior team, the junior players tried hard to maintain the same hold on the local rugby arena. One such player who built a name for himself within his age group was Chanaka Peters. It was a half chance taken by the coach to promote this skinny lad into the big league in 2005….….and that too to compliment the void left open by Randhil.

The nippy kid grabbed his chance and deftly removed the stereotype that was assigned to flankers. His approach to the game was not of a conventional flanker; rather it was a perfect hybrid between third row might and back division speed to propel him into being one of the most effective flankers to hold on to the position for Wesley after Kasun De Silva in 2004.

The most memorable moments of Chanaka’s play in 2005 came when he sent back one of the most feared players of the game Namal Rajapakse back to the dugout grimacing with pain. STC used this stocky lad in a way which was overly predictable. The move which involved the STC number 8(Namal) peeling from the blindside was countered by the blindside flanker (Chanaka) with a bone crunching tackle that made his opposite number ineffective to the cause. Further, No Wesleyite would forget the violence marred President’s Trophy semi final in 2005 against Kingswood College where Chanaka made useless the kicks of Erandha Weerakkody and succeeded in making Kingswood’s game plan redundant.

Chanaka playing in the position of centre along with a band of other young players continued their good work for the 1st XV team in 2006 and passionately fought to bring the elusive President’s Trophy and league championship back to Wesley.

Ironically 4 days ago I met my friend and messenger of obituaries Yasas again. This time I met him through the internet as I have been away from home and country for close to a year. One of the very fist words he told me was “Machan, podi aulak (Small problem)……………..Chanaka is dead”. This disbelief that took hold of me didn’t allow me to accept the loss of another young life who had more than a chance of carving his name along with the rugby greats of the country.

Chanaka had his ups and downs in life and made his share of enemies; However, his core was always truthful to the game of rugby. His vision for the game was far beyond his age and his dedication was exceptional. The most distinctive characteristic of the little chap was that he moved with both young and old as peers attributing the suffix “machan” to all he met.

A young wick of light was doused long before it cast its shine on the rugby scene and we as youth are saddened by his demise and share his family’s grief and sorrow.

Never did I imagine that Randhil Thilina would be joined by one of his staunchest colleagues in the appreciation of his work. This article being released a couple of days prior to the 1st of May in itself bears testimony that the little man had spun his magic even during the course of his last goodbye.

The will of god has it that the flanker was effectively outflanked and the little bullet was murderously outgunned!

A drive through history..

The first murder ever was when Abel brought down Cain,
the ill effects of jealousy saw one of the brothers slain
this day Man came to know that lives could be taken,
with Animal instincts’ flaring and human values forsaken

This first pint of blood spilt, was all but shed in vain,
The habit of causing pain topped even the addiction to cocaine!
The blood started dripping, with no seeming end in sight
The words of dialogue drowned by the inclination to fight

Mankind has slowly evolved from primitive days of old,
But alas not their values, for many a head had rolled…
..down the killing machines devised to do its part in glee,
People killing people and bullets you get so free!

The Industrial Revolution came, Communism came and went,
Blacks won some Rights and Colonialism lost its scent
The First World War done and the second one closely followed,
The “(Third World) War on Terror”, the world easily swallowed

Jews were tortured in camps and there children were left in the cold
Some of them embraced Zionism and committed the same manifold!
Little children were being killed and burnt in an angry spate,
The rubble overpowering them to submit to their tragic fate

Governments started killing, the very people who voted them in,
Sanctions made sure that kids… would pay for another’s sin!
Lands were made and lost, and people were used as bait,
Look under the letter “I” and you’ll find a Terrorist State!

To Japan said Uncle Sam, “You need more Chemistry in life”
The atomic bombs were dropped to the killer tunes of the fife
The champions of Vodka thinking “Man we need some Poppy”,
Their failure in Afghanistan they might never need to copy

No religion can be bashed, no philosophy can be blamed
But for sure I know one thing, these Terrorists can be tamed
Justice and equity is the key behind this bloody lock,
Through kindness and compassion this violence we could sock!

This world is big enough to hold us all together,
This mantra is my fodder and you, my Good Old Brother
Governments could never do this, nor organizations we see
Clearing this mess up is left for both YOU and ME!