May We Pass Brother? – By Niranjan Selvadurai

May We Pass Brother? – By Niranjan Selvadurai

Source : Dæhæna – July 2026

May we pass brother?
But are you one of us!
Or someone other?
Roving eyes survey thus

Taking girls home from work,
Quietly I mutter,
Don’t you have sisters too
Words I dare not utter.

Rod in hand he twirls
Peers down at the girls
They of diverse race and creed
But united in the hour of need

Girls huddled in the car
All similar pensive faces
None with Pottu or Thaali,
Those give away traces

See bro, they come from far
Buses not running… blah, blah!
The accent must ring true,
So I keep talking through.

Got petrol in a tin can?
No, there’s some in tank
No time to syphon, man
Says Tarzan at my flank

Now that I’ve passed his test
Tarzan is my friend best
Clear from the road you!
This car must go through

Shops ablaze and shattered glass
Tarzan back at the helm yelling
Unruffled mates loading hand carts
Charred remnants of a once dwelling

Although you made your call
Thinking we were of one feather,
Colombo burned around us all,
When you let us pass, my brother.

– Niranjan Selvadurai

Context:
This poem recalls an encounter from Monday, 25 July 1983, the first day of the violence later known as Black July in Sri Lanka. As Colombo descended into chaos, the narrator and a friend tried to drive several young women home from work but were stopped by a mob near Town Hall. In that moment, language, accent, and cultural markers became their only protection, determining whether they would be allowed to pass.