Thoondal: The Flower in the Thorny Bush of War

Thoondal: The Flower in the Thorny Bush of War

As he lay in her arms, still and quickly turning cold, she could hear screaming voices and people sobbing. At first, the cries seemed closer to her, but now they grew distant, and quieter. She could feel his hand slightly graze her bare skin, as he tied the thali around her neck. She could feel the soft petals of flowers fall on her braided hair and small shoulders. She picked one up and gently sniffed its sweet smell. How she had dreamt of this day as a child. Selvan was her warrior, her hero. Everything had happened so quickly. The quick glimpses of a cute boy, who always seemed to be near her house. The smiles, and the gazes. The little love notes that she burnt as quickly as she read them, not forgetting to remember each and every line. Finding corners and tree shades to be in the presence of each other. Being close enough only to imagine the feel of each other, and now, they were finally together. Their guests ate their fill and slowly returned to their homes, stalling to repeat their wishes, and to say their goodbyes to friends and families.

Night had fallen, and now, it was just Selvan and her, Mrs. Mahalakshmi Selvarajan. She smiled shyly as she remembered that night. Selvan had eventually fallen asleep, and she had rested her head on his chest. Listening to his heart beat, her eyes closed and soon she was fast asleep, when suddenly, there was a loud explosion, and a heart-wrenching scream. Her heart missed a beat and she sat up. Selvan was already at the bedroom window looking out onto the street. They could hear the neighbours also waking up to the noise. The whole ground was shaking now. She looked at Selvan, and in that gaze, they both understood. He embraced her quickly to comfort her and ushered her into the bunkers behind their house. Their neighbours had already gathered there, hastily shoving their children into the bunkers before going in themselves, and whispering instructions to each other. Some of them looked up as Selvan and Maha came, and their expressions mirrored the couple’s emotions. They had barely begun their life together, and they were already at death row. Quietly, Selvan nudged Maha into the bunker, and got in after her. The shelling had started and the ground above them shook. Selvan pulled Maha into an embrace and held her to keep her calm. The infants had started to cry in fear, and their mothers were trying to comfort them, when suddenly a young mother began to sob loudly, screaming to be let out of the bunker. It soon became clear that she had thought her husband had picked up their baby from the cot and she had hurried to the bunker. She began to hit herself on the chest repeatedly and the older women around her tried to console her.

Maha could feel Selvan’s hold loosen and she looked up into his eyes. What she saw scared her, but she couldn’t say the words to stop him. She could only wish that he wouldn’t, but she knew Selvan well. She knew that, at this moment, nothing could stop him, not even her. Her heart screamed in pain, but her lips remained sealed. He kissed her softly on her head and swiftly climbed up towards the top of the bunker before anyone there could realize what he was about to do. At the entrance to the bunker, he paused, listening for the pattern of shelling. He jumped out as the others in the bunker screamed after him. ‘Selvan! Selvan!’ She closed her eyes shut, placed a hand over her heart and prayed to every deity she could think of. It seemed like he was gone for hours. She embraced herself for the worst, but hoped for all to be well. She heard hurried footsteps on the ground above, and she opened her eyes, looking towards the entrance to the bunker. Some of the older men moved towards the entrance, and one man stretched his hands out. Maha could see Selvan’s arms handing over the infant. Everybody smiled as the infant reached the man’s hands and suddenly, there was a loud explosion. The ground shook and everyone fell onto the floor of the bunker. Maha followed suit but stretched her neck to see beyond the bunker. There was no one in sight, and she knew.

The screams and cries were getting louder now, and she opened her eyes to see the people around her. Not a tear fell from her eyes because her Selvan was a hero. He had given his life to save an innocent soul, a young one who might rule the world one day. That child must live to tell the tale of Selvan, she thought. Every child on this land should live to tell the tales of other Selvans too, she thought.
She drew herself to her feet. She swept her braids into buns on both sides of her head. She wiped the kumkumam off her forehead. She paid her respects to the shredded remains of her husband’s body and she walked out before anyone could say anything. Maha, a beautiful flower amidst the thorny bush of war and violence, will later be remembered for her bravery and sacrifice. She will be honoured on Maaverar Naal, by thousands of people all over the world, along with hundreds of other soldiers who have sacrificed their lives over the last twenty-five years.

The New Generation of Rising Stars

By: Athithan Kurukulasingam

Fear, an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm. Growing up as a child I feared the dreaded class presentation or the speech one would have to give in front of his or her peers. I’m sure I’m not alone when I suggest that most kids hate being in the spot light. The sense of anxiety that took over at that age could not be put into words. The tension that would arise waiting to hear your name being called out was unbearable. Things did not get better once it was your turn. Clammy hands, dry throat, a voice that could barely register a decibel, these were all some of the symptoms we faced. The feeling of euphoria that would erupt after those dreaded minutes ticked by are still registered in my brain today. I hated putting myself out there plain and simple. I thought to myself, why put yourself out there in order to be scrutinized by everyone? Why be put under the microscope and be dissected for every little thing that you did? To me at that time, it all seemed pointless. Flash forward some years down the road. I have effectively broken out of that shell that had shackled me throughout childhood. The person I am today is a total opposite of what I used to be. A fragment of my old self one could say. Being shy and self conscious is a normal part of life but it effectively limits your ability to put yourself on the map. It is a barrier that can hold you back from achieving great heights. Once one can learn to control the fear anything is possible and we are seeing the by-product of that in our Tamil community.

Today, we are living in a new generation of rising stars. Kids are relentless in the pursuit of greatness. We are seeing more and more people of any age put themselves out there without the fear of being judged. When I was growing up, I never really knew a Tamil singer my age apart from the kid next door that used to sing at family functions. In the technologically developed era that we live in today, one can upload a clip of them singing on YouTube and it can go viral instantly. I’m just using singing as an example but of course this can be expanded into many other categories. Now I see my fellow Tamil people putting themselves out there like never before and it’s an amazing sight. Sporadic success is from the past and now frequent breakthroughs are of the norm. While I argue that we are seeing more and more rising stars today, I would like to stress that more can be done. First of all, we should all do our part to promote local talent. I feel that this is a very crucial point. For every person that receives instant success there are just as many if not more that don’t. We all know of that person who is trying to promote themselves. That next door neighbour that used to or still does sing at local events now has the platform to put his or her self out there to a wider market. Remember what it was like for you as a kid to go and stand up in front of the whole class. No matter how good, bad or mediocre the person seems to you, we should applaud their efforts. It takes a great deal of courage for one to put themselves under the microscope. For every person that has that secret talent that only a select few know about, I call on you to put yourself out there. Showcase to the world what you have without fear because you may rise to a level of greatness that would otherwise not be possible. There is nothing to fear but fear itself, why hold back the next great Tamil dancer, musician, poet, vocalist etc…There is always a way to break through.

Generation Jobless

Written By: Yazhini S.

Yippie! I graduated. This past year, I graduated from university. It was a grand affair. My entire family came, even my father, who can never take a day off from his restaurant job, asked for a day off and came. While my parents basked in happiness, my sentiments were quite the contrary. You would think my
enthusiasm for graduating and “making it” would be greater, but I must admit, I feel as if my troubles have only started since. The expectation for the “rest of life” to follow has only increased since graduating.

While in school, it was acceptable to put off finding a good job, or getting married until I was done school, however now that I have completed school, the pressure to fulfill these societal expectations has increased. Despite the economy, my parents believe in the dream of their child graduating, obtaining a good job, buying a house, getting married, having a child, etc.

I am not going to lie. I applied to tons of entry level jobs, jobs that required high school education even, and have not heard back. I cannot tell you about the piles, yes piles of job applications stacked on my window sill. I have seen my peers, who graduated last year or the year before still struggling to find a “respectful” job. I have seen brilliant students stuck in contract position after contract position. In this economy, finding a job is really much harder than winning the lottery.

The Canadian Center for Policy Alternatives released a report earlier that highlights that joblessness is more common in Ontario than anywhere in Canada. In fact, the report highlighted that only 1 in 2 had any paid employment. (Many times, they are underemployed in precarious work). The unemployment rate for Canadian youth is 17.1% – really a shocking statistic. Studies have proven that not being able to secure a full-time continuing position has real consequences for future promotions and overall lifetime earnings.

Regardless of this, I have been trying with all my heart to not let my motivation down. But it is hard. I secretly suffer in depression over my inability to find a job. I was an A student throughout my life. I was awarded honours and awards, this rejection has been quite difficult for me to accept. Sending in resume after resume has really worn me down mentally. All my life, I equated my worth with my academics, that now, having being rejected so many times, I feel as if something is wrong with me. I stay awake at night, unable to sleep, thinking of the situation I have found myself in. I am sad, I cannot explain how I feel even to my friends. I feel as though I need to pretend that everything is peaches and cream when really, I am suffering inside.

I think for the students who echo my sentiments, I want to tell you, our time will come. We just have to continue to persevere. This too shall pass, but who we are as a person, through difficult and good times will remain. Use this time as a time to change the world for the better. Maybe, it is really our chance to do something more meaningful for the community – something we may not have done if we were awarded full-time continuing jobs. And finally, don’t lose hope. Keep applying, you never know when your time has come!

For the Tamil parents who are reading this, I want to just please ask you, be understanding of your children who may find themselves in a similar situation. Be supportive to your children. They need your support and love more than ever right now. Yes, it would be nice to call Mala Aunty, or Kamala Aunty and tell them your child found that government job, but, the reality is, Mala Aunty and Kamala Aunty’s children are in the same situation. Instead of worrying about maintaining appearances, use this as a time to connect with us. After all, we want more than anything to succeed too.