Written piece
Sunrise
Oshanthaka Cabraal
Sri Lanka
About this piece
Like a quilt, ‘Sunrise’ threads my Sri Lankan family across the Commonwealth. Written en route from England to Australia, it reflects on childhood memories, the fear of coming out, and the comfort and support ultimately found through love.
Sunrise
During the ceasefire, Thaththi took us
through the east and north of the island to see it
as one country still. I think he feared it’d be severed,
cut up like scrap paper, perhaps even need a visa
to visit and face hostility for having a lazy tongue.
I remember, as a seven- or eight-year-old,
waking up before the sun had even opened its eyes
or thought of rising that day—
we walked out of the front door of our beach villa,
always dusted with sand, to the open darkness,
facing the gentle waters of Passikudah.
Soon orange soaked into the soft blue above
like acrylic bleeding on a wet canvas.
Decades have passed since. I am on a flight to Adelaide,
to reunite with them, where Aiya lives—
my secret stored away in an English town.
I watch an explosive red spread across the land
from above, like a volcano erupting—not in anger
but with a familiar, firm hand, like Ammi’s.
The white clouds between that bright
flame and me soften the beams and
outline the beauty of this new land—
as you do with each of my uncertain steps
and the fear lodged in my throat.