Note: This was written sometime ago, precisely on 29 January 2012 at 00:25 A.m. as a not on my old FB account.
I published this here because I felt it's timely for this to reappear.
It’s not like you do it with utmost care and expertise as in a medical surgery where your belly is dissected and intestines are examined and cleaned that you go for a Hara-kiri. It’s when you find yourself utterly helpless in a ferocious battle surrounded by foes who are positioning themselves to take their best turn and chance either to take you down or to capture you alive, that you resort to this detrimental option. Except in euthanasia, killing oneself is one of the toughest calls one could undertake in one’s lifetime.
By the looks of it, the current plight of many Sri Lankan government Universities is such that both the under graduates as well as the tertiary academia are in the process of digging their own graves in striving to survive at an outbreak of a privatization of sorts.
I remember those gone old times in which we as advanced level students wracked our exhausted brains in determining our stance with regard to the establishment of private universities in Sri Lanka, which had been then slyly dished towards us as an essay topic. At one time they had even asked whether it’s a blessing or a curse if my memory serves me right. I wonder what happened to those who wrote it’s a blessed curse or a cursed blessing in the exam at that time. The panel of examiners either could have awarded more marks to such essays claiming them to be witty and creative pieces of the bright crowd or they could have despised them altogether as follies of the silly crowd who haven’t understood or addressed the topic properly. While the things were known to be so, I personally had temporary and tentative stances which varied from one essay to another which I wrote for myself and for other lazy classmates of mine on demand. To my conscience of course, the future was uncertain to an extent that the dilemma whether I would or wouldn’t remain alive to see the sun rising for the next day was constantly dallying in my mind. Would you dare expect less from an islander destined to live with a three decades old war by the side? Therefore I didn’t care much about campuses as to whether they will or will not establish private ones.
Rather than mincing my words in minstrelsy of the folks at FUTA who are plagued with camouflaged and untraceable yet limitless plagiarism (which is their game without a name) concerning many of the research papers they present at present as the only occupation with which they are thoroughly engrossed and heavily paid for, I prefer to talk about the students who are susceptible to the politically backed pro-ragging tittle-tattle and anti-privatization protests.
When it comes to ragging as a part of the life at universities, it has numerous pros as well as cons. As for the bright side of things, ragging void of brutality inclusive of physical assault and harassments of all sorts, can be considered the pluss side with ample fun and fraternity. Lately in the middle of a friendly conversation I had with one of our seniors he revealed to me how such harmless ragging contributes to build a camaraderie between the fresher crowd and the seniors. For example, the first-years have earlier been warned by the seniors to be cautious about choosing the course units at the outset itself depending on the results given in the previous semester / year. When at the friendliest terms, those seniors have divulged even 'classified' information which came handy for many girls at that time as to which lecturers required their beauty and flesh for better results and which lecturers did not. In this highly pressurized environment concerning students, the scholars who benefitted by such advice are displaying an unprecedented keenness in ridiculing and demoting all kinds of ragging which take place at campuses. Most certainly it is quite alright to condemn politically motivated and narrow-minded raggers and those who urge or rather force the first years to engage in protests and other such campaigns even without an awareness of the intents of those activities. Yet, I observe a concealed jealousy and a loathsome hypocracy from those who look down upon even the rapport that ragging in a progressive light could foster among the batches of undergraduates in universities.
It is apparently impossible to believe that this progressive aspect of ragging has been overlooked by those who have gone through it and now trying to eradicate ragging from the entire university system having seated in their comfy chairs. In my opinion, they are deliberately undermining this opportunity of establishing a strong bond among the batches of university students so that the generations that flourish after them would hardly be capable as they are unless those successors themselves would have the urge to accomplish their expected endeavors.
In a different light, this suppression of progressive ragging could be viewed as a control mechanism that could prevent the establishing of unity among the students which if takes place, could possibly cause a danger even to the state administration at certain points. Hence why shan’t we put it down to a lame attempt of employing the typical, old fashion ‘divide and rule’ tactic.
Rather than thus attempting to suppress ragging altogether, why can’t the government and the responsible parties look into the causes of such uproars in a more rational manner and make arrangements to treat those intricacies by fair means which could retain the endangered democracy of this Democratic Republic? Although a palpable amount of propaganda is done with the view to fighting the ragging off in the very same way they fought the terrorism off this land, could it be called fair to use the very same rush to implant a highly privatized system of education and higher education step by step having abolished the most revered free education from Sri Lanka perhaps in accordance with the Whitehouse trend of demolishing the availability of free contents and free knowledge on Internet through SOPA and PIPA ?
Though Americans were strong enough to make the Whitehouse give those bills a break, will Sri Lankans be able to do the same with the soon-too-be-passed act on Private Universities?
Recently I was chatting a friend of mine and our
conversation got carried towards Muslim ladies, I was asked of a particular
Muslim girl’s outer appearance and what I had in response was ‘I dunno I can’t
remember’ because I’m not interested in Muslim ladies anyway. And my lame
reason for the disinterest wasn’t as lame as the reasoning behind those ethnic
cleansers who demote Muslims as a badass nation that’s conquering the
territories with their rabbit-hole kind of population growth and the like. I
had issues simply with their
cleanliness. ‘They are a dirty bunch of people’ I was told when I was a kid.
And of course that was outright stereotyping, nevertheless there were times I experienced it firsthand
as well.
Upon cruising down my memory lane all the way back to those
gone old nineteen-nineties where our boys led by Arjuna brought the world cup
home, there were not only me and my family who were cheering gearing and marveling at the TV. We had two other
sisters and brothers from another mother at home who had come to watch TV with
us since they didn’t have one at their place. My mom didn’t feel any difference
in the warmth she extended similarly to all of us kids although the two
sisters were wearing Sholes and things
to cover their heads and torsos. They were treated equally and during the boring times we used to play carom
or monopoly together chattering
out in half Tamil and half Sinhalese. My dad couldn’t help evading our company
anyways on the one hand because he just couldn’t grasp the situation as I was
befriending the Muslim neighbors next door while he was known well all over
the place as a hard core Buddhist and on the other because we had drastic
differences in terms of social class and
caliber.
The first time I was made aware of their presence was when I
came home with a hanging long face because I couldn’t find myself among the
first five place-holders of the term-test marks in my grade two class at the
end of the first term. Insanely enough all the mothers wanted their kids to
shine brighter than the others back then in the primary education. Consequently I also was pushed to get in
there somewhere among the top five cause of all the caliber-related baggage entailed to our family and my father’s
reputation as an old boy of my school. Well the reason for the knock down was me scoring
just four marks for my Tamil paper in that term. My mother saw the solution in
the talent of that young Muslim girl who lived next door and I was encouraged
to address her as Akka (Not Akki) rather than ‘Teacher’.
What we had wasn’t a teacher-student relationship but a
Brother and sister ( ‘Akka and Malli’) one.
Every evening she used to sit with me at our home and coaxed
me to write Tamil letters at first and subsequently
Tamil words. Thanks to her effort I never stooped beneath ninety marks for the Tamil test papers
from the next term-test onwards. That legacy I carried until I finished my Ordinary level
exam where I had chosen Tamil as one of the
two additional subjects we were entitled
to choose for the exam. The point here
is that she being a youngster who hailed
from a Muslim background that was quite
a contrast to mine, had such an impact on my life. And as a result of
her commitment I stood out as the only student from our school who secured an ‘A’
pass for Tamil in that year having toppled the world for our Tamil teacher at school
who had established a tuition monopoly
for all the other fellow students of Tamil because none of those students upon whom he had vested hopes, had
gotten through with anything that could reach my result.
Meanwhile when reminiscing that awesome past I can never forget the fact
that it wasn’t about just studying Tamil. We played together and had fun
together and she was the one girl I’ve
associated closely enough to discuss the changes which occur in us girls and boys as teens. She used to
tell me her tales as to how she was once followed by a Sinhalese taxi driver as she was walking her way home from Kurunegala
town and how she managed to escape by going to the shop where her brother
worked.
Back then the gravity of a guy following a girl for any
reason apart from just teasing her, had
not registered properly within me as an act of vulgar malevolence. And hence it
goes without saying that I wasn’t capable of understanding the religious,
cultural and ethnic nuances of such a pursuit. Maybe that was why I bluntly asked
her back then “So Akka what’s wrong in it when that guy followed you? He may
have wanted to do it for fun”. It was then I got my first life lesson from her
in the way she understood it “Malli guys can do harmful things to girls and
that’s why it’s bad and a girl should run to a safe place when a guy is
following her”. Although I went onto ask what harmful things that the guys can
do to girls, she didn’t know it either and thus the conversation might have
taken a different twist I no longer can trace. It surely isn’t laughing matter
since back then I didn’t know how the babies are being born and I think nor did
she know it properly.
When chattering near the place of worship at our home, once
she wanted me to show how the Buddhists worship and go about with their religious activities
and since she was a girl she confessed that she didn’t know much things which
were done in their religious observances. Again I was so naïve to ask her why only Muslim males are going to
the Mosque and not women very often. She said in their celebration of new year
once a year women get an opportunity to go to the mosque and engage in prayers and that’s what she
knew apart from the prayers she had to chant during every break for meals and
for tea.
Once I remember going with her to their small house where I
was greeted with equal warmth and fervor as any other family friend of ours would’ve made
me feel. Her elder sister had made me a Birthday card which was one of the
rarest hand-made gifts I’ve ever had until I had some paper-quilled cards I got
from my female Best friend during the recent university times.
I don’t think any other gifts I’ve received which must be reaching high-end price tags could have
given me that immense pleasure I gained upon receiving that birthday
card and the pack of chocolate Akka
bought me as a reward for my achievement with regard to Tamil at the Ordinary
levels. They were simple gifts of course
but their value was immeasurable because
of the strong bond they made me
cherish with their presence in my life.
That pleasure was never diminish from a slightest bit
because she was a ‘Muslim girl’. I never felt uncomfortable around her since
she had covered more parts of her body than other girls I’ve been with. But the
most pitiful thing is the dilemma whether the kids of the present or even the
ones in the future would or would not be
able to experience the bliss and the unity I experienced with Akka regardless
of her being different with her religion, her language and her lifestyle. We are
seeing mobs of terrified Buddhists sullied with ideologies that warn the world
about an impending religious erosion
that’s harmful to Buddhism as they claim. They’ve forgotten the core values of
humanity and hence they’ve begun repressing even the younger generation by
brainwashing them to feel awkward about having Muslim friends who are a threat
to the existence of Buddhists or the Sinhalese in this whole world. We’ve submerged
as a nation to that framework of the
desperate survivor where Hitler too had landed in his times against Jews though
in a more ferocious and lethal intensity than this.
So it is high time we watch our step as to where these racist trails will ultimately lead us
towards and up against what we are as Buddhists, Sinhalese and even Muslims at present. We have become
opportunistic enough to cheer Pakistan even against our own team simply in a
cricket match because Pakistan would side us in defeating the UNHRC resolution pertinent
to the human rights allegations. Still Isn’t Pakistan being inhabited by a
majority of Muslims, the minority of whom we’ve alienated within our own land? If
the trend invites further discrimination, there won’t be any more ‘Akkas’ for
the ‘Mallis’ like myself to watch another Cricket world cup with the spirit of togetherness
or to learn the life from. There won’t be any Fatima’s left for Diwulgane to
sing about and summon to watch the ricing moon of Ramadan together.
Be it Halal or Haram,
Sharia or Jehad, Sufism or Wahhabism that have interfered our lifestyle, we
have a responsibility to remain respectful instead of being aggressive in negotiating
life with the concerned minority as a dignified majority. If we crave for a deserving respect with regard
to our faith, our culture and our
lifestyle, that we cannot expect to be granted and yet we have to earn it by
respecting the other faiths, cultures and lifestyles. I believe if both the
stakeholders of this impending crisis would understand that particular ground
rule, a future that features an imminent
chaos could be converted into a level playing
field of harmony and mutual inter-religious, inter-cultural and inter-socio-ethnic
understanding through negotiation that shall pave the way to a more peaceful
cohabitation of races within the sixty-five thousand odd square kilometers allocated to the territory of Sri Lanka
Last night soon as I made up my mind to get some sleep,
having given a break to regulars and irregular’s
in life; upon closing my eyes having slumped myself on the bed, that idling part
of me that needed cozy comfort zones was listening to Tinie Tempah going on as
:
“Sexy senorita, I feel your aura
Jump out that new motor
Get in my flying saucer
I'll make you call me daddy
Even though you ain't my daughter
Baby I ain't talking books
When I say that I can take you across the borders
I'm young and free, I'm London G
I'm tongue in cheek
So baby give me some time to drink
Slow and steady for me
Go on like a jezzy for me
And say the words soon as you're ready for me”.
Thence I remember sinking to a deep sleep until I heard
everything else coming to a stand-still and a hard knock banging on my left
year.
Jeez! it was a shoe I had never seen earlier in my house
that had knocked me off the sleep. My mouth went dry and I was gaping at the
shoe that was ragged, dusty and wearing
on its top the crushed remaining’s of a redden rose.
I was like “What the heck! a shoe?!... this is gotta be the
weirdness at its worst”. To my further
astonishment the shoe began talking.
Le shoe: “Know
me comrade?”
Le me: “Nope I don’t
and nor would I wanna know of such a shoe
I just wanna sleep just get the…”
Le shoe : “Now
hang on there! Easy Mr. Bee!”
Le me to
moi self: “What holy shit is
this?! A shoe I’ve never known talks to me
in the name I like being called”
Le
shoe: (As if read my mind) “Aye comrade I know ye better than ye think
and I’m trying to be civil as much as I could muster with ye”
Le me: “Come on now! Whatever the goddamn
hallucination you are, just don’t talk
to me in that awkward manner.. just be gone! Why me?! Go for some other
weird guy over here!”
Le shoe: “Alright I will try to be normal with you… and you
are the chosen one. So now let me talk”
Le me: “NOOO! How
come?! Harry Potter is the ‘Chosen one’
not dear meee!”
Le shoe: “Now
shut the…..”
Le me: “Okay… okay calm down whatever now just talk
whatever you wanna talk and get vanished to wherever you came from!”
Le shoe: “It is fair for you to wear my counterparts who couldn’t voice for
themselves and even you dare to pitilessly kick them into dark corners when
you’re done with your show-ups outdoors. But
you feel so prickly and hence
command us to be vanished only when one of us dare to approach you and knock
some sense in to you, is it?”
Le me: “Okay cool down
now! Now what’s the deal what have I done….”
Le shoe: “I
told you clearly that’s my turn to talk and yours is to listen and only to LISTEN!
And you know what? I’ve also
seen you and your friends update such fancy statuses on that time-killing junk
yard called Facebook saying ‘Don't judge
me till you walk a mile in my shoes or live a day in my life.’. How dare you!
Just how dare you relate poor us into your messes?! Now that’s where you humans
have gotten it all wrong! That is you folks who choose the fitting shoes to wear and not that any
shoe is coming your way begging you to
wear us right?
So even with life those are your
choices which make you who you are and not that anything is forcing you to make
those things your only options in life. Hence it is cause of your own
incapability that you are accusing every other thing throughout your
unfulfilled lifespans. Satisfaction
indeed is a rare thing… for instance look at those girls in your world of
humans! They pick one design of shoes
and come home admiring it. And Right on the very first night they wear
it to a party they see other better designs
gracing other ladies’ feet and drool about them having forgotten the beauty they beheld in their own shoes at
the time of purchase. That’s called cunt
genealogy among my circles you know?
And yeah… that cunt
genealogy isn’t something that’s only
related to those capricious and
vain creatures in your world! That peril
is embedded in the genitals of you
so-called industrious, progressive, hardworking males as well. Now don’t you
reprimand Your minister of transport to kiss his ass good bye simply cause two
trains collided and caused a loss of
over hundred million rupees to the
Railway authorities. And dare you put
the Korean prime minister who resigned over a wrecked ferry side by side in this case as the
example? How unfair that is?! Why don’t
your lopsided brains think more
sensibly? Why defy your own glory to another sloppy resignation of a sloppy man in a sloppy country that you
took no notice till recent times?
Come on let’s not cheat your own
conscience, you wanted to make a mayday slogan out of that as well right?
Bloody opportunists y’all are! And the
funniest thing of all is the mayday in which a world-wide rebel of the proletariat is commemorated,
some crackpots are naming it as the saddest
day of the year for the married women cause their men stay home the
whole day! Alright I’m freaking you out
more and more with such nonsensical-sounding rye jokes. Yeah exactly I just wanna piss you off
as much as possible before I get down to the real business.
Uh I remember you asking ‘What’s
the deal’ earlier right? Yeah I figure
everything that every person talks is a ‘DEAL’ for you huh? Well you liberal capitalist morons wake up with
deals, pee with deals, eat with deals, get laid with deals, walk with deals, talk with deals and probably
you folks are even sleeping with deals and maybe that’s why just as you are
half asleep listening to me you are throwing me the question ‘What’s the deal?’
I’m here to talk no deal Mister! I’m here to knock some sense into your head so
that the next morning just as you woke up you must switch on that cursed laptop
of yours and get started typing it all down on my behalf for your blog fans,
Facebook buddies and all sorts of potentially sensible creatures within your
reach.
Now here is the real deal for
you! Think not of the mayday as a velvet that’s so red with that thick liquid which sprung from the
deepest tributaries of poverty you could have a hearty laugh at. Think not
of it as the future that is destined to lay redden as a carpet for your after-comers also to
tread with their iron shoes of bureaucracy
just as it was customary all
throughout their ancestry that have
hitherto been glorified in history.
Think not of it as another gimmick or a
mimicry of an age-old celebration of a victorious working class that’s facing the
adulteration which is consequent to the overarching strategies of networked
devolution instigated by the masterminds of globalization. And think of it simply as the remembrance of
sacrifices which have been made to create
a better tomorrow for all of you who were then the saplings shaded by the ailing brethren of redness that belonged in a past which
was redder and thicker than the blood
running in your vessels. Think of
it as the cuts of shoes that were bestowed upon your precursors for the sins
they committed by falsely setting up layers and layers in their gregarious
existence that’s known as the society. Those cuts of shoes were intended to
shape the feet for the future of that massive body of civilization to stand
straight upon them as a nation which
would turn to be as much sovereign as it could be. But behold! Has it happened so far? Has it
the capitalism and the vicious circle of poverty in which you all have been
encircled become the only reason for
such a chaos? This must be the ideal hour to turn the headlights on towards the
oblivion of future that’s beyond yet
another war zone sullied with redness of
ethnic, religious or any other form of discriminative forces! So be it and thus I may conclude my long damning ode to
the redness of the mayday.”
I just couldn’t
believe my ears. What the heck was I listening to? While I was pondering
this bewilderment, I heard statics and sounds of distortion and the shoe
disappeared gradually from my view as if it was melting into the thin air. Then
I began to feel my presence in my own world. On my bed listening to Metallica
singing to me “For whom the bell tolls” in low volume.
Have you noticed people just like you but different in some way living with you in your communities? Most of you know them as People with Disabilities. So what’s special about them? You might ask. And I tell you they are special because they have a equality to earn. They should walk the extra mile to win their rights and they should talk more about themselves to earn their living.
That’s why they have organized themselves globally as Young Voices for a collective effort to earn what they deserve to live in our own communities equally. So why don’t we look at some great achievements in three countries around the world.
Let’s begin with Nyamizi from Tanzania, a vibrant youngster who wants to be heard. She has just graduated from the University of Mzumbe, Morogoro. According to her the biggest change her group experienced was the boost of confidence and the empowering awareness of the rights of the People With Disabilities in the UN Convention that enabled them to meet the employers like NCSS in her country and invoke awareness in them regarding the employability of the young persons with disabilities. She and her friends think that meeting the stakeholders that are responsible to make their lives better in various ways personally and convincing them about the possibilities of incorporating the Persons With Disabilities in their daily life is the best way to campaign in her country.
The way forward for Tanzanian youngsters with disabilities as she says, is an attempt to continuing their activities with the help of people in their community who can contribute to sustain the social incorporation of the youth.
Precious from Zambia has a different story to tell. She considers the advocacy to be the central element of their success in Signing, ratifying and implementing the legal framework for the people with disabilities in her country. They have T V and Radio programs in the local stations to educate the public about their rights and achievements as well. Thereby she and her friends have eradicated the discrimination in her community quite effectively.
Ashura from Kenya has her own achievements to share with us. As an individual she has won the Miss Deaf in the world in the modeling career. It was in fact an opportunity that was opened to her through the advocacy campaigns of the organization called Young Voices Kenya. Consequently she is now confident to stand stronger in emphasizing the rights of the Persons with Disabilities in her country. She believes that the most effective factor of campaigning is showing the power of the Persons of Disability through example. However the Kenyan youngsters with Disabilities are going to sustain their effort of retaining their rights through continual advocacy campaigns and country-wide awareness.
The three stories of these three individuals about their effort could indeed be an inspiration as well as an enlightening experience for all of us who dare to even fight for the silliest right in the world without a basis.
P.S. This article put together by me and another team consisted of 3 participants, was selected to be included in the publications of LC Global Young Voices.
Since the dawn of new millennium, in different conferences around differently shaped tables different people have been discussing many different things about the different courses of action that could be taken for the betterment of the people who are different from them, yet with a universal indifference to the fact that those tables did not feature anybody that’s benefitted through the difference they were trying to make.
Then along with the tagline “Leave No-one Behind.”, the voices of the younger generation who wanted to be heard, got together from all over the world under the wings of Leonard Cheshire Disability services in the year 2013as the Global Young Voices in Nairobi Kenya.
With the participation of twenty-two countries from around the globe, they’ve made their way forward so far amidst many obstacles while passing numerous milestones that they achieved in different levels within the last three years since 2009 where Global Young Voices has been initiated.
As the Young Voices representative from Sri Lanka I was privileged to be a part of this gathering held in Nairobi from the 22nd until the 25th of October. The event was known as the global Young Voices Conference 2013 and it was all about inclusion and sustainability of the movement.
Right from the beginning the conference presented me ample unprecedented experiences. Although conferences of international caliber weren’t anything new to me, the novelty of communicative competencies’ and the refreshing positivity in attitudes of the people who conducted this discourse, inspired me immensely.
The two highlights of the very first day for me, have been gently encapsulated thus within just one beautiful click that speaks a gazillion words.
Mr. Washington (The Gentleman in the picture to the right), the Regional Advocacy manager of Leonard Cheshire Disabilities was the first person I saw, conducting a session using sign language with the aid of a sign language interpreter while the outstanding talent of the Kenyan Young Voices was brought to life by Miss. Nicole Mballah (the young Lady in the picture to the left) as she sang the welcome song for all the participants at the outset.
With such a vibrant commencement, the three days passed by with many points to learn and plenty of inspiration to share.
In yet another important session Ms. Libby Powell, a media pro from the United Kingdom who has dedicated her career for the people with Disabilities through her communication rights organization known as Radar, empowered the gathering with effective and condensed communication strategies.
Then came the roundtable time for the attendees to reflect and plan ahead. The discussion was focused on four major areas: Education, Livelihood, Inclusive Development in post-2015 global youth agenda and of course the way forward for the Global Young Voices.
Very many valuable inputs received from the Young Voices representatives were accumulated to compile a draft known as Global Young Voices Call to Action. This document is expected to enhance the policy level regulations included in the United Nations’ Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities in order to meet the implementation level that could be enacted world-wide.
Since I got the opportunity to contribute to the drafting of the aforesaid document along with another participant from India, I’m very positive about my role in the future activities of the Global Young Voices.
Yet in fact, Global Young Voices has reached a challenging juncture at this phase because the funds extended to this project by the European Union has come to an end. I feel further excited About this situation because I was able to thus actively contribute at such a decisive stage of this organization so that I would treasure my own small happiness of being a part of a course directed at the people like myself that will be uplifted to the functional level again through the means devised by the very people like myself.
