The Birth of an Activist

During the early hours of November 14th, 1980, my grandfather was at the Selvasannithi temple, attending a unique Hindu festival which is related to ensuring justice upon this earth. On the 13th night my grandfather went to the temple in order to attend the 4am special prayers. According to my grandfather, during his sleep, around 1.30am, he saw a dream of a new-born elephant moving towards him. Our family members are strong lord Ganesh devotees and we believe that the elephant is lord Ganesh’s vehicle. Soon after he saw the dream he woke up and thought about my mum’s pregnancy, and immediately came to our house.

Heavy rainy and thunder had begun, causing a small flood in our lane. Mum told my grandmother, “I am feeling a pain”. Due to my mum’s pregnancy grandma realized the situation and asked my uncle to bring a car to take my mum to the hospital. As my uncle brought the car, my sister was holding an umbrella above my mum. Heavy rainy and thunder roaring, the wind taking up its speed; the moment approached, it was 2.30am, November 14th, 1980. My mum was trying to get into the car with deep pain, but before she could manage to put her step into the car, she gave birth to me into my grandmother’s hands.


While my family surrounded me, I was born in my own soil and in my beloved grandma’s hand. Not only was I born, but the birth of my identity had taken shape as well - the refusal of an oppressive government ruling a hospital and its beds. This might be the reason because of which I love my soil and my people and all communities so much. However…paradoxically, the state and its oppressors did not allow me to stay with my people and my soil.

The contemporary world is marked by different phases of conflict. Some conflicts only touch the surface, while others are deeply rooted, or neglected. My life was connected to the early stages of conflict. Whether I like it or not my life is a struggle: struggle is my life. It’s wasn’t chosen by me, it was an unfortunate accident that led me to live with it.

My birth took place between two tragic events. The first one was the 1979 “Prevention of Terrorism Act” (PTA) implementation, in the name of self-defense and national security, which was eliminated thousands of Tamil youth’s life since 1979 up to now. The other one is the burning down of Jaffna library. “It was one of the violent examples of ethnic biblioclasm of the twentieth century. The library at the time of destruction was one of the biggest in Asia containing over 97,000 unique books and unique manuscripts”. Over the parallels in Sri Lanka to the Taliban's cultural vandalism—notably to the destruction of the Jaffna Library in 1981.

Maybe that is the reason my spirit perpetually continues to fight against oppression. Maybe that is why I have dedicated my life for oppressed people. It has led me to raise my voice against any kind of oppression in any part of the world.
Searching my identity is a long process, but so far I have identified some. Search will continue…if I survived from the oppressor’s target.

[quoted from my family members]