Menaca’s story reminds you that it is often through some of your greatest life challenges, you get the opportunity to meet some good and caring people.
I have always had a passion to grow and evolve. Throughout my life, I have been through many ups and downs, enjoying the triumphs, learning from the falls, creating everlasting bonds with many beautiful souls and understanding several life lessons from people who sadly drifted along the journey.
Spending my first two decades in a war zone has encouraged me to value life and think of each moment as a gift! I am lucky to have survived and been able to live this magnificent life, where so many others were not able to continue their journey or had the misfortune of seeing their nearest and dearest drop off at different points in their life.
I am blessed to have been surrounded by so many magnificent and generous people who have helped me to flourish into my current form. Likewise, I would like to think I’ve been a shining light for a few in my path, helping, guiding, coaching, mentoring and most importantly, being there for them to share their joys, wipe their tears and provide a shoulder to support and listening ear.
Ultimately in 1990, during the war, I was travelling to Trincomalee from Batticaloa and the journey had to be stopped and the bus abandoned due to the fear of danger ahead. I, along with some other passengers, had to walk for ten days through the jungle, journeying at night and resting through the day time so as to avoid being spotted and killed by the military forces.
Till this day, I have shivers running through my spine when I recall how a teacher next to me was injured with a shell from the air raid. That could have easily been me and I thank the graces for saving my life that day. I remember my father’s reaction when I showed up at our front door with fear and astonishment at how I had managed to return home.
I discontinued my education in Sri Lanka and moved to India. To my horror, when I reached India, it happened to be during the time of Rajiv Gandhi’s assassination. One day, along with my local guardian, we were picked up by the police and taken for enquiry and questioned for a few hours as the telephone agent had informed the police that I was calling to Sri Lanka often.
It was embarrassing and demoralising as a young adult to be taken to the police station yearly and forced to take a HIV test to prove I was not infected. I used to say to my friends;
“In the process of being checked, I hope I don’t catch anything contagious from the hospital!”
I remember taking disposable needles with me to be on the cautious side. I almost developed a phobia to needles through these experiences.
However, I had the good fortune to meet some generous and kind-hearted people in my life. Particularly, I am grateful to all my friends and their families for embracing me into their lives and community. They made me feel welcome and considered me as one of theirs. Thankfully, I am still in touch with many of them and have been blessed with some of the best of friends.
I would like to publish this story as a memoir, first and foremost with an intention of remembering my roots, and as a tribute to the many thousands who lost their lives and to their near and dear ones. More importantly, I want the coming generations to understand the hardships their parents and grandparents, in fact the entire community endured to survive and thrive in life. Also, to learn the importance of peace and recognising how war can disrupt a family, a community and indeed a nation.
This is just a part of the story!! I am writing the full story as we speak.
Thank you for reading.
Have you had any similar experiences you would like to share? Please comment below or contact me direct at mena3011@icloud.com
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