Tamils - a Trans State Nation..

"To us all towns are one, all men our kin.
Life's good comes not from others' gift, nor ill
Man's pains and pains' relief are from within.
Thus have we seen in visions of the wise !."
- Tamil Poem in Purananuru, circa 500 B.C 

Tears of a Kind to the Heroic Twenty One

25 October 2007

[see also Anuradhapura air base attack by 21 Liberation Tigers]

In the media outlets and umpteen self-promotion websites and blogs, the prattling pundits and warped Oracles are outpouring their agonies and prejudices than the speed it took for the decency-challenged Sri Lankan military folks to strip open the clothes worn by the Heroic Twenty One, in Anuradhapura.

In the dictionaries of these warped Oracles, ranging from the editorial scribblers of Chennai and Colombo to contemptible political turncoats, one won�t find words like valor, pledge and self sacrifice.

It is understandable though, since these pundits have hardly shown valor in their public lives when their kith and kin had been continuously threatened, humiliated and murdered by the arms of state terrorism; and self sacrifice would be an anathema for their bloated morals. 

In the hearts and minds of Tamils and those who sympathize with the Tamil cause, the twenty one heroic souls who demonstrated their valor and self sacrifice will live, while the names and deeds of warped Oracles, editorial scribblers and contemptible political turncoats would be dumped into the dustbin of history.  

One has no reason to doubt that an elegant poem by the American poet Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919) succinctly reflect the moods of millions of Tamils carry for these heroic Twenty One. These Twenty One have become our �newly found� friends, as noted by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Here is that poem, of 156 words: 

Accept My Full Hearts� Thanks
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 

Your words came just when needed. Like a breeze
Blowing and bringing from the wide salt sea
Some cooling spray, to meadow scorched with heat
And choked with dust and clouds of sifted sand
That hateful whirlwinds, envious of its bloom,
Had tossed upon it. But the cool sea breeze
Came laden with the odors of the sea
And damp with spray, that laid the dust and sand
And brought new life and strength to blade and bloom
So words of thine came over miles to me,
Fresh from the mighty sea, a true friend�s heart,
And brought me hope, and strength, and swept away
The dusty webs that human spiders spun
Across my path. Friend � and the word means much �
So few there are who reach like thee, a hand
Up over all the barking curs of spite
And give the clasp, when most its need is felt,
Friend, newly found, accept my full hearts�thanks.