With feet of clay?

Which types of violence maybe termed as heroic and therefore be viewed with compassion as sacrifices endured to fight oppression, and what gets designated as intolerable terrorism, are really two sides of the same coin. Supremacy in both of these becomes the ultimate trophy which is sought, and the faith of conviction the blinkers that disallow for any mediation to occur where alternative methods are sought. Finally it is the political, religious, geographical or ideological affiliation which you possess that guides your self-identity to become stitched into these maps of re-ordering.

The photo of the young man in front of an army tank in 1989 during the Chinese uprising in Tienanmen Square, is a frozen moment for me that captures the essence of where passionate belief can take you in your own life's journey. I wonder what are the thoughts and emotions of his mother each time she remembers her son. Does she believe he wasted his life or does she hope that he helped to keep the dreams of the freedom of others alive?

I have such mixed emotions over the massacre of the LTTE leadership as it brings with it a closure to 26 years of an ideological position. Crumbling under the dictates of it's opposition, a dream of a homeland has been crushed forever for those who followed this piped Piper. So many rivers of blood snake the histories of human civilization, and yet it seems as though human need continues to perpetuate the battle for power. These power-games are enticing, all dressed up in glitzy packages that promise a jack pot at the end of the rainbow, after the storm. But most times the storm unfortunately bring with it devastation and the rainbow never seems to shine through.

Of course each of us want to catch the moonbeams and ride the ride to that special place all legends and tales normally take us to, in those fired up imaginative moments in our lives. But along the way if our idols and heroes start to get feet of clay, that's when the dreams turn into nightmares, and the moonbeams get eclipsed by the shadows of the dark clouds.

I don't know what victory this massacre of the LTTE brings, nor do I comprehend how the blood of innocent people could be shed for 26 long years, and be justified in the name of anyones liberation. We will have to wait and watch what history decides to remember, and what we choose to forget ourselves.