Análisis poético

An extract from ‘Colin Cowdrey Lecture’

Original Poetry

Translation

An extract from ‘Colin Cowdrey Lecture’

I was lucky that I never faced violence directly in Sri Lanka.

– ‘The Lahore Attack’

There were many bombings, but I was never at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Kumar Sangakkara

In Colombo, life was mostly normal despite occasional bombs.

I was fortunate that during my life I never experienced violence

People could live away from the war; kids went to school, I played cricket.

in Sri Lanka first hand. They have been so many bomb explosions over

But in other areas, people faced danger daily, defending their country or just trying to survive.

the years but I was never in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Avoiding bullets and bombs was crucial for them.

In Colombo, apart from these occasional bombs, life was

I felt sympathy but couldn't relate to their experiences.

relatively normal. People had the luxury of being physically detached

Until we toured Pakistan in 2009 for cricket.

from the war. Children went to school, people went to work, I played

The first Test in Karachi was uneventful.

my cricket.

The second Test in Lahore was going smoothly.

In other parts of the country, though, people were putting their

We left early for the ground, expecting a tough day for the bowlers.

lives in harm’s way every day either in the defence of their motherland

The bowlers were complaining at the back of the bus.

or just trying to survive the geographical circumstances that made them

Thilan joked about a bomb going off so we could leave.

inhabit a war zone.

For them, avoiding bullets, shells, mines and grenades, was

Then we heard sounds like firecrackers.

imperative for survival. This was an experience that I could not relate

A shout came: "Get down, they're shooting at the bus."

to. I had great sympathy and compassion for them, but had no real

We all took cover, lying on top of each other.

experience with which I could draw parallels.

Bullets hit the bus like rain on a tin roof.

That was until we toured Pakistan in 2009. We set-off to play

We stayed still, hoping to avoid injury.

two Tests in Karachi and Lahore. The first Test played on a featherbed,

Mahela shouted he was hit in the shin.

past without great incident.

Tilan was hit in the thigh and groaned in pain.

The second Test was also meandering along with us piling up a

A bullet hit near my head, where I was seconds ago.

big first innings when we departed for the ground on day three. Having

I felt my shoulder go numb from a hit.

been asked to leave early instead of waiting for the Pakistan bus, we

Tharanga stood up, bleeding, saying he was hit.

were anticipatiing a day of hard toil for the bowlers.

He collapsed, and I thought of his bad luck.

At the back of the bus the fast bowlers were loud in their

My mind was clear, aware of the situation.

complaints. I remember Thilan Thushara being particularly vocal,

The bus started moving, and we reached safety.

complaining that his back was near breaking point. He joked that he

wished a bomb would go off so we could all leave Lahore and go back

We rushed off the bus, Tharanga was still bleeding.

home.

He had a bullet lodged in his sternum.

Tilan was helped off, and paramedics checked us.

Not thirty seconds had passed when we heard what sounded

We talked in the dressing room, then laughed.

like fire crackers going off. Suddenly a shout came from the front: “Get

We realized what Sri Lankans faced daily.

down they are shooting at the bus.”

We recovered quickly, staying mentally strong.

The reaction was immediate. Everyone dived for cover and

We were airlifted to safety hours later.

took shelter on the aisle or behind the seats. With very little space, we

Ajantha suggested playing Poker, and we joked.

were all lying on top of each other.

We were attacked but not defeated.

Then the bullets started to hit. It was like rain on a tin roof. The

We felt proud of our resilience and spirit.

bus was at a standstill, an easy target for the gunmen.

The world saw us calm and rational in interviews.

As bullets started bursting through the bus all we could do was

A soldier later called me a hero, valuing my life.

stay still and quiet, hoping and praying to avoid death or injury.

I was humbled by his sincerity and passion.

Suddenly Mahela, who sits at the back of the bus, shouts saying

Cricket evokes strong emotions in Sri Lankans.

he thinks he has been hit in the shin. I am lying next to Tilan. He groans

I strive to be worthy of their love every day.

in pain as a bullet hits him in the back of his thigh.

As I turn my head to look at him I feel something whizz past my

ear and a bullet thuds into the side of the seat, the exact spot where my

head had been a few seconds earlier.

I feel something hit my shoulder and it goes numb. I know I had

been hit, but I was just relieved and praying I was not going to be hit in

the head.

Tharanga Paranavithana, on his debut tour, is also next to me.

He stands up, bullets flying all around him, shouting “I have been hit” as

he holds his blood-soaked chest. He collapsed onto his seat, apparently

unconscious.

I see him and I think: “Oh my God, you were out first ball, run

out the next innings and now you have been shot. What a terrible first

tour.”

It is strange how clear your thinking is. I did not see my life

flash by. There was no insane panic. There was absolute clarity and

awareness of what was happening at that moment.

I hear the bus roar into life and start to move. Dilshan is

screaming at the driver: “Drive...Drive.” We speed up swerve and are

finally inside the safety of the stadium.

There is a rush to get off the bus. Tharanga Paranawithana stands

up. He is still bleeding and has a bullet lodged lightly in his sternum,

the body of the bus tempering its velocity enough to be stopped by the

bone.

Tilan is helped off the bus. In the dressing room there is a

mixture of emotions: anger, relief, joy. Players and coaching staff are

being examined by paramedics. Tilan and Paranavithana are taken by

ambulance to the hospital.

We all sit in the dressing room and talk. Talked about what

happened. Within minutes there is laughter and the jokes have started

to flow. We have for the first time been a target of violence. We had

survied.

We all realized that what some of our fellow Sri Lankans experienced

every day for nearly 30 years. There was a new respect and awe for

their courage and selflessness.

It is notable how quickly we got over that attack on us. Although

we were physically injured, mentally we held strong.

A few hours after the attack we were airlifted to the Lahore Air

Force Base.

Ajantha Mendis, his head swathed in bandages after multiple

shrapnel wounds, suggests a game of Poker. Tilan has been brought

back, sedated but fully conscious, to be with us and we make jokes at

him and he smiles back.

We were shot at, grenades were thrown at us, we were injured

and yet we were not cowed.

We were not down and out. “We are Sri Lankan,” we thought to

ourselves, “and we are tough and we will get through hardship and we

will overcome because our spirit is strong.”

This is what the world saw in our interviews immediately after

the attack: we were calm, collected, and rational. Our emotions held

true to our role as unofficial ambassadors.

A week after our arrival in Colombo from Pakistan I was

driving about town and was stopped at a checkpoint. A soldier politely

inquired as to my health after the attack. I said I was fine and added that

what they as soldiers experience every day we only experienced for a

few minutes, but managed to grab all the news headlines. That soldier

looked me in the eye and replied. “It is OK if I die because it is my job

and I am ready for it. But you are a hero and if you were to die it would

be a great loss for our country.”

I was taken aback. How can this man value his life less than

mine? His sincerity was overwhelming. I felt humbled.

This is the passion that cricket and cricketers evoke in Sri

Lankans. This is the love that I strive every-day of my career to be

worthy of.

Explanation

This prose extract from Kumar Sangakkara's Colin Cowdrey Lecture recounts the harrowing experience of the Sri Lankan cricket team during a terrorist attack in Lahore, Pakistan, in 2009. Sangakkara reflects on his previous detachment from the violence in Sri Lanka, contrasting it with the sudden, life-threatening situation he faced on the team bus. The narrative vividly describes the chaos and fear as the team was attacked, highlighting the bravery and resilience of the players. Despite the physical and emotional trauma, the team maintained their composure, embodying the strength and spirit of Sri Lankans. Sangakkara's account emphasizes the courage of those who live with violence daily and the deep connection between cricket and national identity in Sri Lanka. The lecture serves as a tribute to the resilience of his teammates and the Sri Lankan people, underscoring the profound impact of cricket on the nation's psyche.

Word Dictionary20

Word	Easy Meaning	Translation	Pron.
fortunate	lucky	lucky	for-chuh-nit
violence	aggression	using physical force to hurt or damage	vai-uh-luhns
detached	separated	not connected or involved	dee-tacht
inhabit	live in	live in	in-hab-it
imperative	essential	very important	im-per-uh-tiv
parallels	similarities	similar things	par-uh-lelz
meandering	wandering	wandering	mee-an-der-ing
anticipating	expecting	expecting	an-tis-uh-pay-ting
complaints	grievances	complaints	kuhm-playnts
standstill	halt	stop	stand-stil
thuds	bangs	loud bangs	thuhdz
unconscious	insensible	not awake	uhn-kon-shuhs
clarity	clearness	clearness	klar-i-tee
velocity	speed	speed	vuh-los-i-tee
paramedics	emergency medical staff	emergency medical workers	par-uh-med-iks
courage	bravery	bravery	kur-ij
resilience	toughness	ability to recover	ri-zil-yuhns
ambassadors	representatives	representatives	am-bas-uh-dorz
sincerity	honesty	honesty	sin-ser-i-tee
evoke	bring out	bring out	ih-vohk

Poet & Context

PoetKumar Sangakkara

Era21st century

Kumar Chokshanada Sangakkara is a former Sri Lankan cricketer and captain, widely regarded as one of the greatest wicket-keeper-batters in cricket history. He played for Sri Lanka from 2000 to 2015, scoring over 28,000 international runs. Post-retirement, he has worked as a commentator and served as President of the MCC.

View on Wikipedia

WhenJuly 5, 2011

WhyThis extract is from Kumar Sangakkara's Colin Cowdrey Lecture, where he reflected on the 2009 terrorist attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team in Lahore, Pakistan. It highlights the resilience and spirit of the team and draws parallels with the everyday experiences of Sri Lankans during the civil war.

FormProse

Themes & More

Themes

ResilienceCourageNational IdentityViolence and Peace

Literary devices

Imagery: Vivid descriptions of the attack create a strong visual impact.Contrast: The difference between Sangakkara's life in Colombo and the violence faced by others.Irony: Thilan's joke about a bomb going off becomes a grim reality.Symbolism: The bus represents both vulnerability and survival.Tone: A mix of fear, reflection, and pride throughout the narrative.

Análisis poético

An extract from ‘Colin Cowdrey Lecture’

Original Poetry

Translation

An extract from ‘Colin Cowdrey Lecture’

I was lucky that I never faced violence directly in Sri Lanka.

– ‘The Lahore Attack’

There were many bombings, but I was never at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Kumar Sangakkara

In Colombo, life was mostly normal despite occasional bombs.

I was fortunate that during my life I never experienced violence

People could live away from the war; kids went to school, I played cricket.

in Sri Lanka first hand. They have been so many bomb explosions over

But in other areas, people faced danger daily, defending their country or just trying to survive.

the years but I was never in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Avoiding bullets and bombs was crucial for them.

In Colombo, apart from these occasional bombs, life was

I felt sympathy but couldn't relate to their experiences.

relatively normal. People had the luxury of being physically detached

Until we toured Pakistan in 2009 for cricket.

from the war. Children went to school, people went to work, I played

The first Test in Karachi was uneventful.

my cricket.

The second Test in Lahore was going smoothly.

In other parts of the country, though, people were putting their

We left early for the ground, expecting a tough day for the bowlers.

lives in harm’s way every day either in the defence of their motherland

The bowlers were complaining at the back of the bus.

or just trying to survive the geographical circumstances that made them

Thilan joked about a bomb going off so we could leave.

inhabit a war zone.

For them, avoiding bullets, shells, mines and grenades, was

Then we heard sounds like firecrackers.

imperative for survival. This was an experience that I could not relate

A shout came: "Get down, they're shooting at the bus."

to. I had great sympathy and compassion for them, but had no real

We all took cover, lying on top of each other.

experience with which I could draw parallels.

Bullets hit the bus like rain on a tin roof.

That was until we toured Pakistan in 2009. We set-off to play

We stayed still, hoping to avoid injury.

two Tests in Karachi and Lahore. The first Test played on a featherbed,

Mahela shouted he was hit in the shin.

past without great incident.

Tilan was hit in the thigh and groaned in pain.

The second Test was also meandering along with us piling up a

A bullet hit near my head, where I was seconds ago.

big first innings when we departed for the ground on day three. Having

I felt my shoulder go numb from a hit.

been asked to leave early instead of waiting for the Pakistan bus, we

Tharanga stood up, bleeding, saying he was hit.

were anticipatiing a day of hard toil for the bowlers.

He collapsed, and I thought of his bad luck.

At the back of the bus the fast bowlers were loud in their

My mind was clear, aware of the situation.

complaints. I remember Thilan Thushara being particularly vocal,

The bus started moving, and we reached safety.

complaining that his back was near breaking point. He joked that he

wished a bomb would go off so we could all leave Lahore and go back

We rushed off the bus, Tharanga was still bleeding.

home.

He had a bullet lodged in his sternum.

Tilan was helped off, and paramedics checked us.

Not thirty seconds had passed when we heard what sounded

We talked in the dressing room, then laughed.

like fire crackers going off. Suddenly a shout came from the front: “Get

We realized what Sri Lankans faced daily.

down they are shooting at the bus.”

We recovered quickly, staying mentally strong.

The reaction was immediate. Everyone dived for cover and

We were airlifted to safety hours later.

took shelter on the aisle or behind the seats. With very little space, we

Ajantha suggested playing Poker, and we joked.

were all lying on top of each other.

We were attacked but not defeated.

Then the bullets started to hit. It was like rain on a tin roof. The

We felt proud of our resilience and spirit.

bus was at a standstill, an easy target for the gunmen.

The world saw us calm and rational in interviews.

As bullets started bursting through the bus all we could do was

A soldier later called me a hero, valuing my life.

stay still and quiet, hoping and praying to avoid death or injury.

I was humbled by his sincerity and passion.

Suddenly Mahela, who sits at the back of the bus, shouts saying

Cricket evokes strong emotions in Sri Lankans.

he thinks he has been hit in the shin. I am lying next to Tilan. He groans

I strive to be worthy of their love every day.

in pain as a bullet hits him in the back of his thigh.

As I turn my head to look at him I feel something whizz past my

ear and a bullet thuds into the side of the seat, the exact spot where my

head had been a few seconds earlier.

I feel something hit my shoulder and it goes numb. I know I had

been hit, but I was just relieved and praying I was not going to be hit in

the head.

Tharanga Paranavithana, on his debut tour, is also next to me.

He stands up, bullets flying all around him, shouting “I have been hit” as

he holds his blood-soaked chest. He collapsed onto his seat, apparently

unconscious.

I see him and I think: “Oh my God, you were out first ball, run

out the next innings and now you have been shot. What a terrible first

tour.”

It is strange how clear your thinking is. I did not see my life

flash by. There was no insane panic. There was absolute clarity and

awareness of what was happening at that moment.

I hear the bus roar into life and start to move. Dilshan is

screaming at the driver: “Drive...Drive.” We speed up swerve and are

finally inside the safety of the stadium.

There is a rush to get off the bus. Tharanga Paranawithana stands

up. He is still bleeding and has a bullet lodged lightly in his sternum,

the body of the bus tempering its velocity enough to be stopped by the

bone.

Tilan is helped off the bus. In the dressing room there is a

mixture of emotions: anger, relief, joy. Players and coaching staff are

being examined by paramedics. Tilan and Paranavithana are taken by

ambulance to the hospital.

We all sit in the dressing room and talk. Talked about what

happened. Within minutes there is laughter and the jokes have started

to flow. We have for the first time been a target of violence. We had

survied.

We all realized that what some of our fellow Sri Lankans experienced

every day for nearly 30 years. There was a new respect and awe for

their courage and selflessness.

It is notable how quickly we got over that attack on us. Although

we were physically injured, mentally we held strong.

A few hours after the attack we were airlifted to the Lahore Air

Force Base.

Ajantha Mendis, his head swathed in bandages after multiple

shrapnel wounds, suggests a game of Poker. Tilan has been brought

back, sedated but fully conscious, to be with us and we make jokes at

him and he smiles back.

We were shot at, grenades were thrown at us, we were injured

and yet we were not cowed.

We were not down and out. “We are Sri Lankan,” we thought to

ourselves, “and we are tough and we will get through hardship and we

will overcome because our spirit is strong.”

This is what the world saw in our interviews immediately after

the attack: we were calm, collected, and rational. Our emotions held

true to our role as unofficial ambassadors.

A week after our arrival in Colombo from Pakistan I was

driving about town and was stopped at a checkpoint. A soldier politely

inquired as to my health after the attack. I said I was fine and added that

what they as soldiers experience every day we only experienced for a

few minutes, but managed to grab all the news headlines. That soldier

looked me in the eye and replied. “It is OK if I die because it is my job

and I am ready for it. But you are a hero and if you were to die it would

be a great loss for our country.”

I was taken aback. How can this man value his life less than

mine? His sincerity was overwhelming. I felt humbled.

This is the passion that cricket and cricketers evoke in Sri

Lankans. This is the love that I strive every-day of my career to be

worthy of.

Explanation

Word Dictionary20

Word	Easy Meaning	Translation	Pron.
fortunate	lucky	lucky	for-chuh-nit
violence	aggression	using physical force to hurt or damage	vai-uh-luhns
detached	separated	not connected or involved	dee-tacht
inhabit	live in	live in	in-hab-it
imperative	essential	very important	im-per-uh-tiv
parallels	similarities	similar things	par-uh-lelz
meandering	wandering	wandering	mee-an-der-ing
anticipating	expecting	expecting	an-tis-uh-pay-ting
complaints	grievances	complaints	kuhm-playnts
standstill	halt	stop	stand-stil
thuds	bangs	loud bangs	thuhdz
unconscious	insensible	not awake	uhn-kon-shuhs
clarity	clearness	clearness	klar-i-tee
velocity	speed	speed	vuh-los-i-tee
paramedics	emergency medical staff	emergency medical workers	par-uh-med-iks
courage	bravery	bravery	kur-ij
resilience	toughness	ability to recover	ri-zil-yuhns
ambassadors	representatives	representatives	am-bas-uh-dorz
sincerity	honesty	honesty	sin-ser-i-tee
evoke	bring out	bring out	ih-vohk

Poet & Context

PoetKumar Sangakkara

Era21st century

View on Wikipedia

WhenJuly 5, 2011

FormProse

Themes & More

Themes

ResilienceCourageNational IdentityViolence and Peace

Literary devices