They call it –
I was hiding in a dark pit,
Shivering, shaking, sobbing –
Terror howling inside me
Young – only 16
Two hands took me out –
Soothing voice
Two warm arms embracing me
I was shoved into a car –
Taken to a mansion –
Fast, fast, fast
Behind the kitchen slab,
Hiding, shivering.
Big knock on door
“Are you hiding Tamils?
Sinhala Traitors!”
“Naa naa Kavuruth naa”
“No, no, no one here” –
Retrieved from behind the slab
A beautiful lady –
Brimming with love –
Holding me –
Calming my fears
Oh, Golden July…
