A Hidden Silence

This is the confession of a bystander. There is no easy way to do this. In fact, I don't believe I should even start. But to say nothing, to be in silence, is shame. And to speak of it, only unveils more deeply drenched shame. In spite of the recent 'developments' in Srilanka, I have consciously forsaken the people back home. And that's a shame I will have to live with for life. Maybe it's because I left Srilanka at an early age. Maybe it's because my parents didn't ingrain us with their struggles through the war. Maybe it's because I can't read or write enough Tamil to comprehend the broadcasts and articles about our war. Maybe it's because I have been socialized into a peaceful community devoid of conflict, thousands of miles away from home. Maybe it's because I give importance to daily mundane problems that I have no time for worldly affairs. Maybe it's because between work, family and friends, I have no time. Maybe it's because I don't have a strong voice and no one will listen. Maybe it's because my patriotism is divided. Or frankly, maybe it's because I don't even know what it means to be patriotic. Whatever the reasons may be, this much I know for sure. I am not in the front lines of this struggle. I'm not even in the march, I am standing, allow me to correct that, I am sitting by the sidelines as a mere bystander. AND, that makes me deeply sad and utterly shameful. 

Today Niroshan asked me if I would ever consider moving back to Srilanka. I laughed at his unassuming rhetoric. Then I simply replied, I don't deserve to go back. We have all watched and read movies and novels of epic heroism, where seemingly ordinary men do extraordinary things. I have often pondered whether faced with such dire circumstances, if I'd be capable and strong enough to rise up to the challenges. Now - I have my answer. The calling is here. I am hearing my name loudly and clearly in every sentence of the stories I read. This should be my time to do the little I can. Yet, here I am. Hidden behind the comforts of the screen you see in front of you. Afraid to speak up, drowning in this hidden silence.