
THE sands of Arichalmunai beach gleam like dull gold under a hot August sun. Once a bustling fishing village, an extension of Dhanushkodi, the tip of the Indian sub-continent also known as Land8217;s End, it has been uninhabited ever since it was devastated by a cyclonic storm in the 1960s.
In the eyes of the hundreds of Sri Lankan Tamil refugees fleeing the war-ravaged island nation, the flat golden sands are no less a beacon than the Statue of Liberty. Since January this year, more than 8,500 of them have made the difficult trip across the narrow channel of water that is the Palk Strait, the 18 nautical miles between Dhanushkodi near Rameshwaram, the popular pilgrim town in southern Tamil Nadu, and Talaimannar in eastern Sri Lanka.
The refugee influx, which began as a trickle in January this year, picked up momentum from May, and has been on the rise ever since. The human traffic peaked on August 20, when nearly 550 Tamils arrived at Arichalmunai. Many of them are said to be making the trip for the second time, having returned to Sri Lanka from the refugee camps after the Norway-sponsored 2002 ceasefire took hold.
8220;Whenever there is a major offensive between the armed forces and the LTTE, there8217;s an upsurge in the refugee flow into India,8217;8217; points out S C Chandrahasan, treasurer of the Organisation For Eelam Refugees8217; Rehabilitation.
8220;Tamils do not feel safe anymore. They feel extremists have got the upper hand, be it on the LTTE side or the Sinhala side, and they feel there is no one to protect them. There is political will in India and Tamil Nadu to accommodate them. So they come here,8217;8217; he adds.
Among the first human cargo to be deposited on these shores by a gaudy plastic speedboat was 22-year-old Nandakumar from Pesalai, 200 km north of Colombo. The fishing village, sandwiched between two naval camps and home to 100-odd families, was the first to be attacked in the series of violent reprisals that followed the December 23, 2005, Claymore mine attack. Thirteen Lankan sailors died in the attack, which the Tigers denied any hand in and blamed on 8220;armed civilian groups8221;.
A few days later, Nandakumar and 32 other villagers fled Sri Lanka through the northern Mannar and eastern Trincomalee districts, paying Rs 3,000 per head to a boatman for the risky sea voyage under the cover of darkness. Evading a watchful Lankan navy, the boat sneaked into Arichalmunai, about 650 km south of Chennai.
Life in a Suitcase
SINCE then, the refugee influx into Tamil Nadu has been as steady as the roar of the sea. They come, mostly labourers and fishermen, with their belongings packed into polythene-covered suitcases and bags and much of their life8217;s savings paid over as fares, to Arichalmunai, Kothandaraman temple and Thangachimadam. These are the landing points closest to Mannar in Sri Lanka, from where most of the illegal ferries depart.
On landing in Tamil Nadu, the refugees are first rounded up by the Indian navy and coast guard personnel, questioned and later escorted to Moonramchathiram, near Dhanushkodi, where the state special branch and Intelligence agencies8217; personnel record the newcomers8217; personal details. 8220;They are checked for wartime scars. If we suspect that any of them were or are LTTE cadres, they are sent to the special camps for militants in Chenglepet or Vellore,8221; says an IB sleuth.
On August 6, among the 200-odd refugees who reached Arichalmunai was Sivasankaran, barely 17, along with his parents and five siblings. The family fled Salli village in Trincomalee district, fearing conscription by the LTTE. In fact, according to his father K Sivan, Sivasankaran actually served two weeks with the militants. 8220;He was forcibly taken away while he was studying in Trincomalee town. But he returned to us after a month or so. We decided to come to India because we fear that the LTTE will take away my three sons to join them,8221; says Sivan, a fisherman.
Though it may have lasted as little as two weeks, his brush with the LTTE ensured that Sivasankaran was herded into the special camp in Chenglepet in north Tamil Nadu two days after he arrived in Rameshwaram.
Stories such as Sivan8217;s and Sivasankaran8217;s are repeated over and over again among the refugees. Fears of reprisal by the Lankan army for LTTE-sponsored grenade and mine attacks, torture, increased house searches, detentions and intense scrutiny under the new Mahinda Rajapakse dispensation and sheer panic triggered by the deafening sounds of shelling around them prompt the Tamils living in the north and eastern districts8212;the areas worst affected by the fresh outbreak of hostilities between the rebel Tigers and the armed forces8212;to flee the island nation.
The Devil, the Deep Sea
8220;I WAS offered Rs 12,000 per month by the LTTE if I joined their newly formed Desiya Thunai Padai National Defence Force, an armed civilian outfit,8221; says Irudhayanath. 8220;On one hand, we had the Lankan army torturing us, on the other, the LTTE was forcing us to join them. I felt cornered.8221;
So Irudhayanath decided to flee Selvapuram with his wife and two daughters. He could consider himself lucky: At least, in that moment of panic, he didn8217;t have to organise a wedding.
Scores of fleeing refugees say they got their young sons married just a week before they left their homes as insurance against detentions by the Lankan navy. 8220;If they swoop down on us as we8217;re leaving the country, they will not take away our sons suspecting them to belong to the LTTE if they know they are married,8221; says Don Bosco, a fisherman.
Bosco8217;s 18-year-old son Gunal Bernard Fernando was badly injured in a naval attack when the villagers took refuge in a church in Pesalai. 8220;The navy began to shoot at us from under the church doors. Several bullets ripped my stomach,8217;8217; says Fernando, showing the long surgery scar on his stomach. A hurried marriage ceremony was conducted for Fernando8217;s brother Rajnikant just a week before the family fled Pesalai. They reached Rameshwaram early this month.
8220;As far as the Lankan authorities are concerned, every Tamil belongs to the movement LTTE. They look at us with suspicion and treat us cruelly,8217;8217; says Peppilambert Plendran. His cousin Magdalene, her husband Moorthy Martin and their two children, Anne Deluxica and Anne Delaxon, were found brutally murdered on June 9 in their house in Venkalai near Trincomalee. Magdalene and her eight-year-old daughter Deluxica had been gangraped, says Peppilambert.
The Lankan army was blamed for the murder. A pro-LTTE website put out gruesome pictures of the slaughtered family to generate sympathy for the 8216;Tamil cause8217;. And in Venkalai, the incident sent panic waves across the village, triggering another rush of refugees to India.
Dismissing the allegations of murder, assault, torture and harassment by the Lankan armed forces as 8220;fabricated8221;, P M Amz, Deputy High Commissioner for Sri Lanka in southern India, says: 8220;The refugees are fleeing merely because there is fear among mothers and wives that their menfolk will be drawn into the hostilities by way of forced conscriptions by the LTTE.8217;8217;
He points out that of the 8,000-odd refugees who have fled Sri Lanka so far this year, 20 per cent are youths. 8220;Until August 21, 2006, 2,327 youngsters have fled the country,8217;8217; he says. Moreover, 8220;those are fleeing are among the 13,570 who had left for Sri Lanka after the 2002 ceasefire agreement. They know the comforts and security of the refugee camps.8217;8217;
Quiet for a While
HOWEVER, talking to the refugees, it appears that much of the exodus has occurred from the army and navy-controlled areas of the northern and eastern districts of Sri Lanka. 8220;Few in the LTTE-controlled regions are allowed to leave,8217;8217; says young Jesudasan, who crept out of the LTTE-controlled Mullikulam village in Mannar district along with his family members at night to reach Mannar and hire a boat to bring them to Mandapam on August 6.
Confirming that young boys in the village were being 8220;forced8217;8217; to join the movement, Augustine, Jesudasan8217;s father, says he decided to flee the out of fear for the safety of his four sons. 8220;The trigger was a meeting convened by an LTTE functionary at the local church two weeks before they left to enroll members for the 8216;supply8217; force. This force sources the rations and other essentials for the LTTE from the army-controlled areas. How can we venture in there? The moment they know that we are from LTTE-controlled Mullikulam, they will shoot us,8217;8217; says Jesudasan.
Arichalmunai is now the safe landing for the refugees. Earlier this year, Lankan boatmen preferred to sneak into Rameshwaram8217;s picturesque beaches or just dump their human cargo on the sand dunes a few nautical miles away from the Indian coastline, fearing arrests.
Now, with the DMK in power, the navy and coast guard appear to have relaxed their guard. Says a personnel at the Indian Navy check-post at Arichalmunai: 8220;We try not to arrest the boatmen because the riskier the operation for them, the more expensive the trip for the refugees.8221;
When the fear factor was at its peak, a ride across the risk-prone seaway from Mannar or Pesalai to Dhanushkodi cost upto Rs 8,000 per head. The rate has now stabilised to around Rs 3,000 per head and comes with an assured landing at Arichalmunai.
But the harrowing sea ride to 8216;safety8217; has proved costly for the refugees on two occasions, leading to the death by drowning for at least 15 people after their flimsy boats were flung around by the rough waves of the Palk Strait.
Even if they make it to the relative safety of Indian soil, it is still far from a happy situation. While the DMK government has hiked the monthly cash doles from Rs 200 to Rs 400 for the head of each family, besides lesser doles for other family members, provisions and essentials, it is far from sufficient for educational and various other expenses. Daily wage jobs are hard to come by, and prospects of a return to the homeland are dim.
Across the 103 camps in the state, the 56,000 refugees might spend their nights without fear of being rudely awakened by the harsh sounds of shelling, but the question of livelihood continues to gnaw at their peace.