Nothing Remains to Lose for Freedom
Half of the Tamils of Eelam in Srilanka
had fled and migrated to countries
where the people humane and rulers divine live.
The poor, old and the disabled totter there
to receive the cudgels and bullets from the Sinhalese.
The tigers who fought for freedom are no more.
The parents of the tigers got their limbs broken
or shot in day light before the scared and starved.
The womenfolk lost their virtue and killed themselves.
The young boys and girls are ostracized and disabled.
The lands of the Tamils are colonised with gangs of goons.
The Tamils have linguistic, racial and religious differences
from the Sinhalese who grabbed the reins from the British.
The idols of their deities demolished in desecrated temples.
The honour of the Tamils was annihilated
before the very eyes of the UNO which holds now polls
to decide their fate and change the blood-stained soil
where the soldiers raped the corpses of the women-tigers.
They have lost their land, men, wealth and honour.
What is there to lose more for getting freedom?
The members of the UNO are religious bigots except a few.
Will they vote in favour of the beleaguered Tamils in fences?
May the Lord open their minds to see the plight of the Tamils.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Veto-powered Membership in UNO
Some bigoted leaders heading some nations
sent shipments of arms to kill civilian Tamils
in the war-torn SriLanka ruled by inhuman Buddhists.
The Tamils are locked in a three-decades-war
with the brutal Sinhalese to free their Eelam soil.
Lakhs of Tamils were bombed en masse, and burnt alive.
Sites of mass-burials are strewn with corpses over.
The women and girls were raped, butchered and left to rot.
The Tibet-occupier China has supplied a chemical to Lanka
to hasten the decay of the fossils of the dead.
What is done in Tibet to capture the land
was carried out in a short time in Lanka.
Does Buddha, the God of the poor-folk, revel to see,
one-lakh war-widows in the Eelam land of Tamils?
Is the veto-powered membership of China in UNO
to annihilate the weaker races and nations?
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The Merciful Hand of America
Sad are the hearts which watched in calm
when the surrendered and the bravely stood tigers,
the civilian Tamils of Eelam of SriLanka
were maimed, butchered and raped
by a lawless army, with the cannons
of some cannibalistic Asian nations.
Silent are the tears that fall
from the blind eyes of the UNO,
which had been in deep slumber for a year,
when the Tamils were treated inhumanly in fenced camps.
It is now waking up to browse the dusty CDs back.
Remorseful is the mind of British,
a sinner who gave the uncut fruit of freedom,
to the majority, Buddhist Sinhalese to rule,
but in the case of India, the land was rent into two.
Shocked is the cosmopolitan brain of America,
whose hand crushed terror and cremated the dictators,
for democracies to bloom, but remained dumb to surprise all,
when the wombs which gave birth to tigers were bombed
and the hands -tied naked rebels were shot and killed
and the war-field was scattered with molested corpses.
Grief-stricken are the Great, great grand dads and mums
of Tamil Nadu, who were unable to stop the supply of Indian arms.
The Indian government took revenge upon the entire Tamils,
for the alleged killing of her leader by the tigers.
Mournful are the souls of the beloved parents and uncles,
In Canada, Malasyia, Aussie and African lands.
Solemn are the faces of Pakistan and China
for their weapons used for the ethnic cleansing.
They would reap what they sowed in history.
The occupiers of the lands of other nations
don't feel the pulse of the freedom fighters.
The funeral mass for the late Tamils will be held
in the cosmological chapel in Lemuria
and the ashes will be committed to the Indian ocean.
Your battle for freedom is over; we're missing you greatly.
Your thirst for liberty still remains in our hearts.
Rest in peace in the ocean where our forefathers were deluged.
We fondly remember and adore your courage.
The merciful hand of America will render justice.
Till then your memories will not leave us to sleep.
---
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Who Gave you Inhuman Rights?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the SriLankan army
to sever the heads of innocent boys
and set fire to the heaps of their corpses
at Mullivaikal and other places?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to rip the limbs of children,
the womenfolk and the old
and litter everywhere
for the vultures to eat or to rot?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to rape the wives of
the surrendered rebels
before their very eyes,
torture and kill them all?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to some mindless nations
to supply chemical weapons
to the brutal army of Lanka
to wage a genocidal war?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the shameless soldiers of Lanka
to maul and cut off the feeding breasts
and shoot at the sacred organs
of the women and the rebels?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the morons born to strumpets,
to shut the women and girls
in fenced-camps, starve
and lure them with food packets?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to drive out the ailing Tamils
from their traditional lands
and colonise with roguish monks
and Sinhalese convicts and goons?
Who can deny rights to Tamils elsewhere
to wage a war against these criminals
when the UNO is blind to these violations,
as some vested interests and bigots
have a stake in this blood-stained soil?
---------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Geronimo Ekia! (Enemy Killed in Action!)
" Geronimo Ekia! " The US Seals yelled
When the unarmed Osama was alone killed
monitoring the calls of al-kuwaiti,
the Courier to al-quwaida and tracing to his lair.
Besides the terror-outfits, he urged the disabled too,
take to guns to carve out a world of their own!
A ‘jigadhi' to millions but a terrorist to billions!
He deserved the nemesis so.
Why the Seals eased his body into Neptune's regime?
May be to refrain the pilgrims to his tomb
if numbed it into the land.
"Was it a victory to US? " "No", I say.
Before enmeshing the freedom-tigers in the Lankan war-field,
the bestial army killed the starved Tamils en masse;
shot at those surrendered and raped the womenfolk alas!
No Courier or scenes of war crimes in media-barred Eelam
woke up the UN which hopped then to give hope to the Libiyans.
It was a stunning victory to the Asian nations
for their arms cremated the thirst of the Eelamites!
They're unashamed to cry out help to Gaddafi later.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The accustomed to are sweet.
Srilankan tamils aren’t comfortable
With Tamil accent of Tamils
As Indians are with the English of English.
The accustomed, though deformed, is sweet.
16.09.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Tamils and Tamil
All the villages connect to their town
And poorly connect one another.
All the Tamils hail Tamil
But ignores one another.
Villages and Tamils will not progress
27.02.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Be Loyal To The Native
Immigrants integrated with the natives,
have lost identity and enmity.
Immigrants segregated from the natives.
have kept identity and enmity.
Tamils not knowing their language in Mauritius
Live in harmony, getting no prejudice.
Tamils with Tamil intact in Sri Lanka
Live in tension with the majority.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Indian actress Padmini
Padmini, an actress from Kerala,
A heart throbs of Tamils for decades,
Breathed her last at 75 in 2006.
She was my sex symbol in my twenties.
She was my sex symbol at her fifties.
Her twenties’ image still lures me,
Even in my sixties and has played longest
In my fantasy. A better homage
She deserved, which Tamils failed to give.
26.09.2006.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet: The Victorious Rising Sun!
The Rising Sun has made a glorious sweep!
Most voters’ hearts are jubilant again;
The state of Tamilnad is poised to leap!
The Sun is shining well this May with rain!
The eighth of May was ill-omen to some;
The year too totals digit-wise to eight!
The mathemagicians couldn’t solve the sum
That power is with people- was proved right!
The plight of poor fellow-men will improve;
A veteran Chief Minister resumes work;
He’ll rule the land of Tamils with great love!
The ones who lost could truly go berserk!
The Rising Sun will shine with splendor long!
All Tamils hearts echo this joyful song!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-11-2006
Dedicated lovingly to the octogenarian,
Fifth time Chief Minister, Thiru. Dr. M.Karunanidhi
poem by John Celes
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A tribute to M. Karunanithi
You stood for Tamil and for Tamils.
You did well for them a long while.
In you runs Tamil blood, not an Aryan’s.
You are who made Tamil to its throne.
You are who weeded Tamil clean.
Paradoxically you are out thrown.
Who can beat you in oratory skill?
You are a caste-less, religion-less jewel.
The one who weeded Tamil was weeded of Tamils.
The presence of mind is out of presence.
Once you were thrown for an intruder.
Now you are thrown for an invader.
You were not thrown for misdeeds.
You were thrown by caste and creed.
You were not shut for ineptitude.
Then why had you been an outright reject?
Sheep do not want a sheep as their master.
Slaves do not want a brethren as their master.
Sheep mind not the master slaughtering.
Slaves worry not the master plundering.
Both want a merciless hand to rule over,
In whom the slavery is bravery.
Tamils hail Tamil but not Tamils.
How can you expect their granary?
Emotion rides where the rational slides.
If a bone is given, the tail is shown.
It is sad that you were born a Tamil.
Tragic events with a happy end-
Happy events with a tragic end:
I weep you are slated as vagabond
Though you entail a peaceful end.
I suggest you denounce politics.
27.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Culture Diffuses By Osmosis.
Tamils settled in Kerala
Feel shy to speak Tamil
And want to hide their race
From their tongue and looks.
.
Tamil Brahmins proudly use it.
They keep it as their mother tongue.
They speak, sing and dance in Tamil,
Generation after generation.
Tamils, save Brahmins, are held as black.
In a culture, inferior dissolves in the superior.
10.11.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Check if you are a Tamil
To be a Tamil, to be born to Tamils
And to speak Tamil as mother tongue
Aren’t alone a sufficient proof.
You must speak vowels tearing apart and
With nouns in English and verbs in Tamil.
You must have a hero higher than God
And read, if at all, the news of movies.
You will do public nuisances at length
And must be insensitive to them.
You shall respect Tamil and ignore Tamils.
You celebrate festivals by watching
In TV Tamil debates and stars’ talks.
You seek south Indian restaurants abroad.
Then you can boast you are a true Tamil.
19.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Music Concert at the Suruli Hills!
‘ p..e..n..n..y..c..u..i..c..k',
sing the cuckoos from the trees
and the mellow music swells,
the Suruli dell and paddy fields.
The falls from the nearby knolls
chimes: 'p..e..n..n..y..c..u..i..c..k',
and dribbles over the breeze to cool
and makes it whistles the tune of
‘p..e..n..n..y..c..u..i..c..k'.
The rills through which water flows
down the hills from the Dam,
fills the dales with red soil
and tells the Tamils who till the lands
to recall their Lord Col. Pennycuick
who sold his own estates in Eng-lish land
and buil tthe strong Mullai Periyar Dam
across the western ghats
to slake the thirst of the Tamils
and their land where the minstrels are born.
The thankful ancient race
collect around the statue of their Lord,
cook sweet rice, ring out a peal of bells
and yell out, 'Pongalo Pongal'
and the name of Pennycuick.
on this day, his birth day
and their New Year Day,
the fifteenth January
and feed all with rice and sugarcane
and their bulls too which jingle
the chain of bells tied around their necks.
- 15.01.2012.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Sethu Ocean Project(TamilNadu, India)
To shorten the sea-trade route
and export goods and expand trade,
the stone-bridge across the Palk Straits
off the town of Rameswaram
needs to be cleared away.
But some superstitious men
trade tirade against the Project
and stop carrying on the work.
The stones might have been laid
in ancient days by the Tamil Kings.
But these religious bigots
argue with fictional stories
that it was built by Rama
with the help of Hanuman's forces.
Whoever could have built it
but what use the people have
within the sea the bridge to save?
When Katchativu Islands
where the Tamils catch fish,
were gifted to Lanka,
these leaders slept in Parliament.
When the lakhs of Tamils were killed
enmass by hurling bombs on them
in the war-torn Lanka,
these Indians were on a honeymoon!
But the Sethu Sea Project work
which would bring jobs and livelihood
to lakhs of workers and farmers
is blocked by a writ in court, citing
legends, myths and fancy tales.
The Chinese are fast in trading.
Their astute men and material,
their indigenous and electronic goods
have filled and spilled Australia.
See, our flustered ambassadars
prostrate before the Lankan leaders
to plead them not to be a host
to the agile Buddhist Chinese.
As the Pakistan demands Kashmir,
Lanka will stretch its hand
to Rameswaram, the temple town.
The Chinese would succour them
as they have formed a triangle
to feel the pulse of the brave Indians.
------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The unsmiling man whose eyes seem fixed somewhere in the jungle
The elephants, Lions, Tigers
Monkeys, Donkeys and Reptiles
All were stuck in a continuing ethnic war tarnishes the pearl of the Indian Ocean.
Sri-Lanka means 'Blessed Island' in Sinhala,
And its best it has been an enlightened, Multiethnic Democracy, an India without crushing social problems.
Guerrillas who demand a separate state for Tamils and the Army has launched a major offensive against them.
The ratio of the literacy rate goes high up to 90%
But there won't be a solution unless a new Buddha must re-born in the state of Tamil Nadu in India.
* An open invitation to Mr.Velupillai Prabahkaren (Hidden somewhere in the jungle) for a permanent peaceful solution to this tragedy.
Postscript
European invaders exploited Ceylon as it was known until 1972, for its deep ports, spices and gems; The Portuguese came in the early 16th century, The Dutch in the 17th and The British in the late 18th, then worst came to worst..............................?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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In the Same Cell
(They are Tamils. I am a Sinhalese in same country called Sri Lanka.)
They murmur and exchange
In their own mother tongue
I was a dumb person
Because of the language
I talk
In my tongue
He reacts and learns
As he knows little bit
In the same cell of same act
Between the death and life
We passed time without a meaning.
Looks at me
Makes change and
Closes with loyalty
Clearing face with smiles
Thereafter
We
Composed words
With crippling time
Exchanging a lot
Among each other.
As mutes sometimes
Had to be with another's
Silence was the greatest tongue
Understood hearts to each other
Danger beckons untold secrets
Came out at the sleepless nights
Identifying the souls.
The image changed
He and I brought
We together drew a new picture
Point of the pen of language
Taking the colors of trust
While the time
We imprisoned in the camp
Called "Boossa Detention camp"
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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Immolations Of Monks In Tibet
The Tibetan monks kill themselves
and their moans and groans,
fall not in the deaf-ears of the UNO.
When the Buddhists annihilated
the Tamils and Bangladeshis
in Lanka and Myanmar, it whispered
and fell back into its wonted sleep.
When America supports Israel,
the World Forum is on its toes
and pacifies the Palestinians
with a healing touch and false promises.
The UNO knows the techniques
to survive in this religion-spoilt world.
Isn't it a tough journey
to tread into the hilly-terrain of the world?
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Unfathomable
After lifting the fingerprints of bloodbath
a bushfire starts, engulfing contradictions,
the gulf between erosion of truth and
survivors appears widening. Tiny ants smell
blood, exfoliation begins, from
nameless earth for the exodus of barefoot,
the epic of tragedy, something in the debris is left
for acetic reminder, a death reunion.
The pain starts the saddest saga of human
suffering, a salt lake melting in each eye and then in
every courtroom the defence for the crimes, bail -
out by the buried dark sniffing of fecundity.
The night wraps me, the land of my birth
haunts in its greenness, the wounded sea bids
refugees to hostile shores, a cracked sun
welcomes the lost umbical cords.
• On the plight of SRI LANKAN TAMILS
poem by Satish Verma
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Sonnet: To Kalaignar Avargal!
A leader great and scholar, statesman rules
The state, that’s poised for rapid strides forward;
The voters proved again that they weren’t fools!
To hold their heads high, Tamils now afford.
A writer, speaker, poet of renown,
And gifted tongue, he waves a magic-wand!
The bureaucrats will work well on their own;
God heard our pleas and blessed the Tamil land.
The air of freedom, breathe we can again;
The state will have good water / food for all;
The early monsoons will bring ample rain;
Promises will be kept, however tall!
God, give some extra years of life to him
Whose heart will make others’ lives lesser grim!
poem by John Celes
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The School at Kathirimalai (Erode District in Tamil Nadu)
The kids of the tribes in Kathirihills
had trekked 28 Kms through dense forests
for catching a bus to the Collectorate
and appealing to have teachers to their school.
If the men and women who served as ministers
and officers of the Erode District
couldn't have felt sorry after reading
this news from 'The Times of India',
they are not worthy to be 'a human being'.
The winding roads with hairpin bends
in the Eastern and the Western Ghats
were laid when the English enslaved India.
Once the Britishers left, our robbers took the reins
and found national and regional parties,
religious, secular and castiest outfits
to feel the pulse of the administration
and push their men into positions to loot.
The golden rule of building dams in Tamil Nadu
and starting schools in far-flung hills,
laying roads to interior hamlets
and feeding the learning children with meals
and touching not the sweaty notes of the farmers
for giving jobs to their skilled boys and girls
ended with the saga of the freedom fighters.
When the tribals are devoid of basic facilities,
the politicians live in palatial bungalows.
They shift their abodes and wives as the clime varies.
If they live in simple houses and set their foot
in stinking lanes, they could have felt for the tribes.
Seventy children have no teachers in that school!
But you see two, three teachers in schools around cities
where the strength of the students be in single digits,
singing paeans to officers and the bigwigs
and enjoying all the allowances for the cities.
Lay a road to Kathirimalai and ply the buses.
All the facilities they will have including the nets.
The leader of the tribals, 'Ramasamy'
who led the children to the Collector's office
is the real leader, the Tamils need at present
and not the bogus ones with make-up, who cheat and rob.
Let the officers be freed to roam in all the places
where the people groan for basic things
and do their best service to the poor.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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