Hi Friends!
This is my first venture into writing. And I kick off this blog with a true story of mine....
In 1999 first day at college-“Hi! I am Yasovarman
Perinpanayagam from Srilanka” I introduced myself to the other classmates at
the Asan Memorial College of Arts and Science, Chennai, India. Then I heard “I’m
…………… from Srilanka ” from another boy in the class, but I did not get his name
right. My curiosity grew as I heard somebody was from my country and asked for
his name again, he replied “I am Sripalan from Jaffna in Srilanka”. It was a
great relief for me to have my countryman in the class.
Since we hailed from the same place we became very close
friends in no time. He used to relate me the harrowing experience he had in
escaping to India to seek refuge. He had come to India by ferry with his
parents and fiancé and his Advanced level books. I was on a student visa and
staying with an uncle as a paying guest. His extraordinary trait was that he
would be carrying all his educational books wherever he was moving due to war.
All our Indian friends were very sympathetic towards us as they knew the
situation back in Srilanka. We studied together for 3 years and we spent a lot
of days in combined studies at his place and I became very familiar with his
family members as well. They were very hospitable and warm and invited me for lunch
very often. Even I was very eager to have Srilankan style food as I was away
from my family.
After graduating I returned to Srilanka and secured a job in
Colombo in 2002. In a couple of years’ time Sripalan got back to the island and
settled down in his wife’s town Kilinochchi in the northern part. Once he came
to meet me in Colombo and I was very much happy to see him back. Then we were
in touch time to time over the phone but not very regularly as the northern
parts were not connected well with the other parts of the country by telephone.
In 2006-he called me from Kilinochchi for the last time
before the war erupted again. He sounded a bit nervous and said “Yaso, Appa
[father] has passed away in a prolonged illness. I am not sure when I can see
you again. I am trying to move to
Colombo as the situation here is getting worse day by day”. Afterwards I sent a
small amount of money and a letter through a relative because postal system
couldn’t be relied upon those days. This was the last contact I had with my
friend.
Subsequently the war broke out in all parts of the country.
The worst affected parts were the north and east. We started hearing the battle
news from all corners of the world. We could imagine the epic proportion of the
disaster from the visuals and news. I grew very much worried about him as the
situations was reaching its peak.
In 2009-At last the war ended eating up many thousands of
valuable lives and wreaking havoc to the assets. The northern part of island
was strewn with dead bodies and raw flesh and blood.
I started searching for him everywhere through whomever from
his area. Our college friends in India and elsewhere started asking me about
Sripalan. I was left clueless on his whereabouts; therefore I had to answer
“Sorry, I don’t know”. As years went by I started typing his name in different
forms into the social networks and search engines. For almost two long years I
did not get any positive response. Then I stopped looking for him very
regularly and intermittently I would check his name on the internet.
In 2011-one fine night after dinner around 10 o’ clock as a
routine I sat before the computer and went to the facebook site. When I opened
my account and checked my In-box I could not believe my own eyes and I was in a
total shock to see a message from the very man whom I thought had been lost
forever. The message read “Machan! [Srilankan dialect for a friend] I am
Sripalan here, working at Eastern Medical College in Batticaloa as a
microbiologist. Please contact me on the number given below when you see this
message. Regards, Sripalan”. I reacted immediately and contacted him. The phone
rang for a while before he picked up. A voice came through with a sleepy tone
“Sripalan here!”. I was elated to hear the voice I had been wondering whether I
could ever hear again. I said “Hello! Yaso here”. It was one of the most
memorable moments in my life. We both were so happy that finally we were
connected. We spoke for some time and I was glad to know that his entire family
had survived the war! He promised that he would come over to meet me in person.
The day finally
arrived! It was a Saturday a week after we spoke to each other he travelled from
Batticaloa to Colombo. I was very much moved to see him again. We spent the
whole day sharing his ordeal and he said it was extremely rare to emerge out of
the war without losing anyone from the family. Later we changed topics to our
college days and even managed to contact our Indian friends on Skype.
Later in the evening it was time to bid goodbye but this time
it was only temporary and knew we would be meeting each other from now on. He
left for Batticaloa to go back to his somewhat peaceful life he was leading
though it would take years to get over the trauma and the memories of the war
he and his family had gone through. We parted at the railway station, at the
platform I stood pondering how lucky I was to have my best friend back in my
life, as the train rattled towards Batticaloa…
