The Tiger office saw a little stream of visitors. They came I was told although not forced by the LTTE to make complaints, by-passing the Police. We were met by two young men in their twenties; both of them were cadres who probably had killed without remorse. They were now purring and smiling, on orders. Cats including Tigers purr after a heavy meal. They then prepare for the next one.

One of the two was from Hatton, spoke Sinhala and acted as interpreter. They spoke of the present with canned homilies. A middle-aged man - retired government servant? spoke in English, clearly an ideological descendent of those Tamil public servants who formed in 1961 the sinister group Pulip Padai "Army of Tigers". He also smiled as did the man seated in a corner, whom the young men told in a hushed whisper was the Number 2 in the area. It was a scene from a Mafiosi film.

Suddenly the little 16 month toddler accompanying us broke ranks and scurried into an adjoining room. Her mother had already warned us that her curiosity could only be stopped if she had her bundy showing, and somebody then shamed her by shouting "bundy hoo hoo!" No bundy now. So, no stopping by entreaties. Rescued by one of the young men, we volunteered that our toddler could be a good recruit for the baby brigade. One grimaced; the other said that she could make a future pilot, a reference to the Air Force the Tigers are building.

We photographed a cut-out of great God Prabhakaran himself shown with much reverence by the young men. We saw a map of future Eelam stretching all the way down to Negombo and on the other side to near Hambantota. The fangs for the time being may be withdrawn but the ultimate objectives were crystal clear.

Trincomalee hotels were full. Only Sinhalese visitors with a couple of Suddas were in our one. The following day too, at the Nilaveli Hotel lunch, one could see only Sinhalese with a scattering of Muslims and foreign tourists. Outside, there were hundreds on the beach, pilgrims and simple picnickers, again all Sinhalese. In fact at Koneswara, the main Hindu temple for the whole of the East, there were again virtually only Sinhalese; no Hindu tourists.

I reckoned that on a good day these Sinhala visitors were delivering at Rs. 20 a pooja, approximately Rs. 20,000 to the temple. The Sinhala visitors were following hoary traditions; from the Solosmasthana pilgrimages from the pre-Christian era to the lay tourists who flocked to Sirigiya 1,200 years ago.

But outside, underlying reality creeps in. Outside Nilaveli Hotel, scores of thatched huts covered with UNHCR plastic was home to hundreds of Tamil refugees from the Tiriyaya area. Their children dressed in school uniform were trying to build some normalcy on hand-outs. In Samapuram, LTTE cadres were getting police complaints, not the police. And the LTTE was brazenly collecting kappan, "taxes" from even firewood cutters. The police, army and navy cadres were privately saying the cease-fire was fragile and warned of impending danger. The Sinhala traders at the fish market and monks were more firm. They said they were observing an orchestrated build-up for an attack. The question was only when, not whether.

Reality creeps full in the Tiger controlled area of Ilangaturai, the ancient Lanka Patuna. We crossed the army post at the environs of Seruwila accompanied by a local businessman. People from Tiger controlled areas would cross and buy from him. We were the first outsiders to cross the lines.

It was only a dirt track to Verugala kovil, a second Kataragama. Its Kankani, a pleasant typical Tamil gentleman joined us. One son he had not seen for several years; he was with the Tigers. The shell-pocked environment of the Kovil was home to curious villagers who clearly had not seen any visitors. They mistook the young man in our group for a tourist and they were eager for copies of photographs.

We were escorted deep into Tiger territory to meet the local commander Kokilan "master". He met us half way. The area was Stone Age; houses with dirt floor and both walls and roof thatched, only dirt tracks for roads, no electricity or TV. Tiger-enforced isolation had driven them to this existence. It was plain evidence of defeat. In our discussion, Kokilan tells there are many misconceptions about the LTTE,

utsiders think they are terrorists, extortionists, thieves; he wants us to be free, ask any question. I find that he is 23 years old; others outside the Tiger areas tell me that he controls 500 cadres. He says he joined the Tigers nine years ago after the army killed his father. Possibly true. I am reminded that international organizations claimed 60,000 people were killed in the South in the 1987-90 period. If their children followed the Kokilan example and each led 500 armed cadres, then the present government would indeed be shivering. I tell Kokilan that I consider him a son who should be in university or in employment. He says that what they want is simple: schools, electricity, fridges, TVs and computers. He is purring the current party line. I mention that it is the Tigers themselves who had denied delivery of these by cutting themselves off from the rest of the country. He refuses to be photographed.

Suddenly I hear a childish squeal and rustling of leaves outside. Our 16-month "bundy" had broken loose. She, followed by a frantic mother was running around the thatched houses and being fondled by affectionate Tamil uncles and aunts. She breaks into a doorway and asks "Ko computers?" She began playing with a computer before she could walk and think every house has one, as indeed do all the families she knows. Disappointed, she sees a child her age, bare bodied. She again rushes at this fellow traveller of the adult world. She goes to this natural kin, fondles his bare belly and shouts "bundy full!" This is the war cry her parents have programmed her to yell after a hearty meal. But her new found friends' bundy was not full.

He was suffering from severe malnutrition. No better illustration of the effects of Tiger-enforced isolation on the local population. This brief encounter of two unsullied babies, drawn naturally to each other gives best answer to the Tiger enforced artificial isolation. One however is destined to be a future professional, the other to be cannon fodder as a Tiger baby cadre.

Back to Top

Back to Columns

Copyright © 2001 Wijeya Newspapers Ltd. All rights reserved.
Webmaster