Who is in shock in London?
LONDON: Will the Sri Lankan restaurant in Lewisham have to close
down if there is a return to war in Sri Lanka, and will Vasan the
boy from Jaffna who works there have to get back home? My friend
Farouk, a BBC correspondent who works in London tells me first that
'the LTTE has pulled out of peace talks.' He is pulling my leg I
think, but he swears he heard it over BBC. The news shatters the
beer-induced state of lightness I've been feeling momentarily in
a North London pub.
But Farouk
is from South Africa. He has seen peace brinkmanship better than
me. "Countless were the times the ANC led by Mandela pulled
out of the peace process in South Africa," he says, and assures
me that Sri Lanka will not go back to war. "When the talks
broke down in South Africa, the chief negotiators were exchanging
secret notes, and it is all history now and written down in the
books."
Seems like
the Sri Lankan peace process has come to a stage where foreigners,
South Africans for instance, can make accurate predictions about
where it will all go from here. Of course London will have 'buth
curry' for a long time to come - and long as there are pubs in North
London there will be ala theldala and Sri Lankan buffet in Lewisham.
The LTTE's temporary pullout from talks does not get even honourable
mention here in the British newspapers.
But obviously
they are discussing Prabhakaran over the Lewisham rice and curry
diet. People here, black, white or yellow, think there is a volcano
in Sri Lankan food -- but they don't know the volcano brewing in
the minds of the Sri Lankans working here, and the largely Sri Lankan
clientele. Certainly, Prabhakaran is accountable to these people
who work in the Sri Lankan restaurants all over Europe, not forgetting
the Tamil doctors and all other top order professionals, too, in
this part of the world. The fate of the Tamil Tigers movement, will
it be decided therefore in Kilinochchi, or closer to Waterloo and
London Bridge?
Not that the
ala theldala and the chicken curry are telling. It will all be decided
by the kind of compact that has been made between Prabhakaran and
those who work and send him money from London, Geneva or wherever
it may be in these fast paced Western capitals. So it is rather
comic that from among these large statues of the likes of Michael
Faraday and Emeline Pankhurst that are littered along either side
of the Thames, that there are probably still men who lurk among
them, and discuss whether it will be peace or war in that former
colony which gave some tropical lustre to the overblown gravitas
of what used to be the British empire.
But there is
no message from some bewigged potentate to the governor of Sri Lanka
for a decision on whether there is going to be war or peace in Sri
Lanka. Instead, Tamils who gave money to Prabhakaran's movement
discuss whether the man must be told to push for Eelam at all costs,
or whether he must be told that brothers and sisters from Lewisham
should be able to go on and enjoy a few months in Manipay?
In London these
decisions are made with nonchalance, or so I think, even though
they may have panic proportion reactions in Colombo. But then, decisions
are always nonchalant here, whether it is Lankans deciding on whether
war should continue in Jaffna, or whether it is Tony Blair deciding
whether there should be an indecent assault on the hapless people
of Iraq.
There are a
few messages in Westminster, which proclaim, to largely ignoring
passers-by that 'we are ashamed to be British.' Apart from these
placards, Londoners are engrossed in the latest features on their
Nokia phones, and the only kind of fighting that will interest them
is football hooliganism or the lack of it. This is post-modern London,
and Winston Churchill who said he shall not preside over the dissolution
of the British empire, is today only a statue, that is espied from
a humongously large Ferris wheel called London Eye that somehow
makes London quite plastic despite the many faces of Westminster
that has the word 'intimidation' written all over it.
But is intimidation
the word then? Back, then, the Foreign Office intimidated the colonies
with edicts to governors whose names have ended up all over Colombo's
present day road signs. Today, the Tamil diaspora intimidates Prabhakaran,
from near to where Churchill called Gandhi a half naked Fakir close
to Whitehall. Or does the Tamil diaspora really intimidate Prabha
from London? Oh no, I think, from now on, I am going to write in
Sinhalese….
My friend Farouk
tells me something about London's upper crust, and how confused
they are -- now particularly, when a London pastry and bread franchise
has been named Upper Crust too in a fit of inspiration. Even in
this hugely multi-cultural London, the rest of the world exists
to give some once-in-a-while organic respite to the stone concrete
cold, glitter and glamour of postmodern London. It is a class-conscious
society, and among the whites, they are supposed to slot a fellow
white person in a class compartment, exactly two minutes after he
opens his mouth and says a word. It is a crisp decision, nothing
organic about it.
But Sri Lankans
in London know what organic is - it is in their rice and curry and
rasam. If they are longing to tell Prabhakaran if there should be
war or peace in Sri Lanka - after all it is they who sent the money
for it -- let that decision be an organic one, that takes into account
life, and not a decision that takes into account the abstractions
of a London in love with its granite past, and plastic + electronic
present…. |