Sugandhi Alias Andal Devanayaki
Page 6
When I joined them, I was quite ignorant about their hidden agenda. I only thought of it as an opportunity to do a movie within one year of passing out of film school. When Bhuvana joined hands with us, saying that this movie had international potential and we could work magic with it, my confidence doubled. Neither of us knew then that the Tigers were responsible for Rajini’s murder. Bhuvana and I believed that it was either the Indian Peace Keeping Force or the Sri Lankan army. We planned the movie so that Rajini would be portrayed as the prey of both the government and the military. Both parties hated human rights activists. That is what Thambimuthu led us to believe. But when we made more enquiries during the writing of our script, we realized that Thambimuthu had not been entirely honest with us.
It was in the third week of my arrival in Jaffna that I met Sugandhi. Thambimuthu brought her home, introducing her as the ideal person to play Rajini. His choice was perfect. Apart from the fact that she was more good-looking than Rajini, there were no other problems. Perhaps Rajini had been as beautiful in her youth too. Her front teeth were not as big as Rajini’s. Her eyes had a regal grace. She was as beautiful as a karthika flower about to bloom. Just as she had written in Karupu, Sugandhi and I were thrown into a sea of love. It was then that I realized that love was something one had to experience, it was not something that could be explained.
‘Have you acted before?’
‘No.’
‘Have you heard about Rajini Thiranagama?’
‘I’ve heard my uncle in London speak about her. But I don’t really know her.’
The announcement that we were about to land in Jaffna awakened me from my thoughts.
7
Who was Rajini Thiranagama? The answer to this question is not very simple. But the Sri Lankan government was trying to manipulate the answer in a way that suited them. It was as part of this agenda that a huge conference titled ‘Who was Rajini Thiranagama?’ had been organized with the secret support of the Northern Provincial Council. They were able to convince the majority of the people who attended that it was a meeting organized by the staff, students and alumni of the Jaffna Medical College. It was for the first time since her death in 1989 that such a huge meeting was being organized in her memory.
Immediately after checking into Tilko Jaffna City Hotel, we made our way to Veerasingam Hall.
By 10 a.m., the hall, one of the largest convention centres in Jaffna, was packed. Many couldn’t find seats inside and gathered outside the venue. Perhaps the organizers were acting on Samaraveera’s orders, but the three of us were given front-row seats. The organizers gave us a special welcome as we were the team from Hollywood who had come to make a movie on Rajini. There were a couple of Sinhalese men in the crowd scrutinizing everything around them. Perhaps they were Sri Lankan secret service officers in mufti. Four or five speakers were sitting quite impatiently onstage, in front of a garlanded photograph of Rajini. It felt like they had been waiting for us. The moment we reached our seats, the meeting began with a silent prayer in memory of Rajini. Marathakam Shanmugananthan, a professor at the Jaffna Medical College, rose to address the gathering.
‘Good morning, everyone. I welcome all of you to this conference titled “Who was Rajini Thiranagama?” Rajini Thiranagama is the name of a martyr who lost her life in the Iyakkam – a name that ought to be written in letters of gold. She was a martyr who fought without weapons against the violence of the Iyakkam, the Sri Lankan military and the Indian Peace Keeping Force. She died twenty-five years ago. In the history of Sri Lanka, one cannot find another person like her. Unfortunately, the anxieties she shared through her activism, before she was killed in September 1989, have become the tragic history of the Eelam. But I doubt that the new generation has understood Rajini Thiranagama properly. The aim of this conference is to create awareness about her life and her activism. In this meeting, Rajini’s friend, Dr Valarmathi Kalyanasundaram, an oncology professor in the National University of Singapore, Reverend Father Alfred Chelladurai, secretary of the Jaffna Human Rights Watch, and Amina El Abidi, the famous Egyptian human rights activist and chairperson of the international agency, Women Against War, will speak about Rajini Thiranagama. These three dignitaries know three different dimensions of Rajini. First, we will have Dr Valarmathi Kalyanasundaram.’
The audience waited expectantly as Valarmathi stood up, bowed before Rajini’s picture and walked towards the microphone. She held back her tears and began. ‘I knew Rajini from a very young age. We were neighbours. Our childhood, like anybody else’s, was filled with songs, laughter and stories. Often, her elder sister, Nirmala, would join us. When we grew up a bit, the bicycle came into our lives. Among us, it was Rajini who learnt to cycle first. There was a time when we flew around these lanes on our bicycles like butterflies. What a lovely time that was! Both of us were born in 1954, she in February and I in March. To be exact, she on 23 February and I on 23 March. Though she was just a month older, she behaved like an elder sister towards me. Not just me, she treated her elder sister Nirmala too in the same way. She displayed a maturity far exceeding her age. Her father, Rajasingham, a mathematics professor, brought up his children with a deep consciousness about the concept of freedom rather than as devout Christians. This child who used to giggle at jokes became quite serious when she reached high school. But she had always been a high achiever – in studies and in sports. Both of us joined medical college together. The majority of the students there were Sinhalese. But Rajini was able to adjust to the new language and customs quite easily. She was a topper there too. It was then that Rajini evolved into a woman who fought for freedom and human rights. The impact of communism sweeping across the globe in the 1970s did not fail to influence her. But she did not accept revolutions as dogmatic. She was wary about the violence inherent in any revolt. Her sense of freedom was rooted in democracy. That is why she was able to create political awareness among the usually apolitical medical students. We medical students, under Rajini’s leadership, protested against the first student murder in Sri Lankan history in 1976 – the death of Veerasurya, a student of Peradeniya College.
‘She believed in a world humanity that went beyond narrow cultural identities. It was then that she met and fell in love with a revolutionary, Dayapala Thiranagama. Though they came from different backgrounds, the purity of their love brought them together. I would joke with her, saying that she should insert a sentence into her Bible: “Those who are in love are indeed blessed, for this world is heaven to them.” But for Rajini and Dayapala, the world was not heaven. After they got married in 1977, Dayapala often had to go into hiding. Two lovely girls were born to them: Narmada in 1978 and Sharika in 1980. Dayapala Thiranagama and Narmada live in England now. Sharika teaches Anthropology at Stanford University.
‘Rajini did her internship at Jaffna Teaching Hospital. Unfortunately, I had to continue in Colombo. After completing my internship, I got married and went to Singapore. At that time, she was working in a village called Haldummulla. Before she completed a year there, she was appointed as faculty of anatomy at the Jaffna Medical College. Her colleagues and students remember her as an excellent teacher. She always tried to learn more about her subject and follow the latest research activities in her area. By the end of 1983, she got a Commonwealth Fellowship to pursue higher studies at Middlesex University Hospital in the UK. She did her research in comparative anatomy at Liverpool University. Her articles were published in leading medical journals. The paper, “Valves in Superficial Limb Veins of Humans and Non-human Primates” that she wrote in collaboration with A.T. Chamberlain and B.T. Wood which was published in 1989 in the Anatomy Journal, deserves special mention.
‘Though she could have advanced her career in the UK, she came back home and taught at Jaffna Medical College. Our eyes fill with tears when we remember that it was during a period when most professionals were leaving the country to escape the raging civil war that Rajini came back. When she was in London, she supported the Iyakkam. Like her sister Nir
mala, she too believed in it. But she soon realized that the Iyakkam was not democratic in nature. This realization and her understanding of the concept of freedom influenced her later actions. But, unfortunately, those who did not understand her courageous stand for peace killed her on World Peace Day. On 21 September 1989, they shot Rajini. I wind up my speech offering my tears as a tribute to her memory. Reverend Father Alfred Chelladurai, who stood with her in her struggle for human rights, will be able to shed more light on her activism. He will speak to you next.’
Father Alfred Chelladurai looked like he was more than eighty years old. When he got up with great difficulty and addressed the gathering in a quavering voice, a strange silence fell upon the audience.
‘Greetings to all! Like Valarmathi said, I worked with Rajini in the late 1980s. It is not entirely correct to say that I worked with her. It would be proper to say that I gave her support, advice and the confidence to pursue her actions. As a notorious military officer had used all his strength on my body in the riot-stricken year of 1983, I was not able to walk or even stand up. Rajini was my friend Rajasingham’s daughter. They were smart, intelligent people who loved this country and its people. They came to me in 1988 to speak about establishing a group called University Teachers for Human Rights in Jaffna University. I asked her whether she had given sufficient thought before deciding on this course of action. She smiled in response. Sridhar Rajan Hoole and Daya Somasundaram, who were her colleagues, had come with her to meet me. They were committed people. They had realized that the Iyakkam, the Sri Lankan army and the Indian Peace Keeping Force were all crushing the lives of the ordinary people. They wanted to expose this and sensitize the public against violence.
‘I explained the concepts of human rights activism to them in detail. Human rights activists fight armed enemies without weapons. As individuals we might lose, but ultimately society will win. Most often, victory is attained after we die. That is the path Christ has shown us. The path Gandhi has shown us. That was the route the UTHR activists took.
‘The reports published by UTHR were a mirror that reflected our society. Rajini and her team marked each violent incident that took place here. They announced to the world the names of those who caused violence. They tried to help the victims in every possible way, giving them protection, food, medicine and treatment. They started institutions like the Poorani Women’s Centre to rehabilitate female victims. It was not activism carried out from safe bungalows in Colombo with aid from foreign agencies. They gambled with their lives to establish peace. When UTHR started publishing reports about the violent activities of the Iyakkam, trouble began.
‘The Sri Lankan military and the Indian Peace Keeping Force were able to justify themselves saying that they were military activities. But the Iyakkam, which claimed that it was acting for the people, was unable to justify its misdeeds. By this time, they had moved away from democratic principles and were trying to silence their critics through torture and murder. As Rajini chose to ignore their threats, she was killed. I have only one answer to the question – Who was Rajini Thiranagama? – posed by this new generation. She was the purest woman born on this soil. An epitome of tolerance and peace. A star of dignity. Thank you.’
He was tired by the end of his speech. Valarmathi and Marathakam helped him to his chair. When Amina El Abidi rose and started speaking in fluent English, those who were standing outside the hall pushed their way in.
‘Dear friends, I first met Rajini when I went to London in 1986 to speak at a convention organized by Women Against War. Feminists and pacifists all over the world remember her with passionate zeal. She had eyes that brimmed with hope. Her voice was confident. On my way here, I read speeches made by famous human rights activists like Radhika Kumaraswamy and Nandita Haksar commemorating Rajini Thiranagama. I don’t think a speech like that is relevant today. I think I should read the last part of the speech Dayapala Thiranagama made about her in 2009. When I spoke to Rajini’s daughter Narmada, she too said that it was a good idea. Now, to Dayapala’s words:
‘It is also necessary to reflect upon the validity of Rajini’s ideas in relation to the current political situation. To use Rajini’s phrase, we are still walking through a dark valley and inhumanity is everywhere. One of the fundamental issues today is the fear of speaking out or the right to dissent. The dark shadow of the ethnic war has not entirely disappeared. Unless the democratic space is expanded, with devolution of power to the Tamil community, peace will be as elusive as ever.
‘It is possible that there will be more and more people like Rajini in both the Tamil and Sinhalese communities, since the political barriers for which she – as a revolutionary in support of the fundamental democratic right of dissent – had to give her life are still very much in place. Those who follow Rajini’s path will make our world a better place.
‘For twenty long years, I have been coming to terms with the terrible pain and anguish Rajini must have felt a few seconds before her death, and my inability to share it with her. I know how she would have felt. Once, she wrote to me saying, “If anyone knows me in this world like the pages of a book, it is you.” I owe so much to her, for the depth of her love for me, and for a true understanding of the beauty of human love that our relationship taught me.
‘Rajini and I loved Bob Marley’s music. She liked one song in particular, and I would like to end by quoting from it: Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights.
‘I have nothing more to add to Dayapala’s words.
‘Get up, stand up … stand up for your rights.’
The meeting ended earlier than we thought it would.
8
It was indeed strange that nobody at the meeting spoke about the mystery surrounding Rajini Thiranagama’s death. Perhaps there were strict orders that it should not be mentioned. If not, at least Father Chelladurai would have said something. If people like Daya Somasundaram or Sridhar who had worked with Rajini in UTHR had been invited, they would have spoken openly. Maybe the organizers did not invite them, knowing that they could not be controlled. Nobody elaborated on Rajini’s changed political stance during the later days of the movement and her reasons for changing. So the question – Who was Rajini Thiranagama? – remained unanswered at the convention, which was clearly a state sponsored meeting. The only outcome of this meeting was that it brought Rajini into public memory once more.
When we sat down to discuss the script after lunch, this was the first question Mary raised.
‘Peter, I feel that this meeting was a waste. They only spoke about matters which we already know. We want to know about the mystery surrounding her death. The audience kept mum like obedient students.’
‘You are right, Mary. All of them spoke with fear in their hearts. The audience too were victims of fear. This is today’s Sri Lanka. Clouds of fear surround us. Nothing is democratic. Everyone is under surveillance. We too are definitely being watched. Both the government that is celebrating freedom from terrorism, and the Iyakkam that is searching for a way to climb out of the abyss of complete failure, are afraid of the common people. And the hapless people of this country? They fear everyone. It’s quite a paradox.’
‘Peter, I completely agree with Mary,’ said Christie. ‘Nothing is going to come out of such meetings. We will just be wasting our time. Our aim is to unravel the mystery surrounding Rajini’s murder and to portray it realistically.’
‘So? Samaraveera?’
‘Well, if the truth is as he says, there will be no problems.’
‘Reality, to a certain extent, is in accordance with what he says.’
‘Peter, reality does not have limits to it.’
By then, it was time for Christie to meet the NCP Governor, Chandrasiri. Though Samaraveera had told us that he would give us all the help we needed to shoot in Jaffna, Christie went to meet him formally. Amina El Abidi, who was staying in the same hotel, also went along. Mary who, like Christie, was not aware of my first project with Sugandhi, listened eagerly.
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‘Mary, we know a lot of facts, but there are certain things that we need to find out. When Sugandhi and I were working together, we made many shocking discoveries that led us into danger. The most important discovery was that Rajini and VP, as Prabhakaran was known, had met a few weeks before she was killed. He requested Rajini to stop her activism that criticized the Iyakkam and go abroad. During that meeting, Rajini realized that she could be murdered. That affected her later activities.’
‘I can’t believe this.’
‘Neither could we. Initially, we found it difficult to believe that a man like VP would agree to such a meeting. Due to security reasons, such a meeting was almost impossible. But it was true. They spoke for almost fifteen minutes at a secret place in Kilinochchi. VP and Rajini were alone. But, unknown to VP, their entire conversation was recorded.’
‘Have you heard this recording, Peter?’
‘Yes. A leader high up in the Iyakkam hierarchy had recorded it. When the Iyakkam floated a political party in 1989, Mahattaya was its leader for a short while. Rajini had given medical assistance to some of the wounded activists of the Iyakkam. Differences of opinion with VP had led to Mahattaya’s death in 1994. By then, this recording had reached the person who gave me the cassette. Sugandhi and I listened to it several times and she transcribed the entire conversation. Based on that conversation, Sugandhi and I wrote a script portraying Rajini as a victim of the Peace Keeping Force’s atrocities.’