Back Song of the Sun God Save as PDF
Chapters (30)
  1. Cover Page
  2. THE GITA
  3. ATTRITION
  4. CHAPTER 1
  5. CHAPTER 2
  6. CHAPTER 3
  7. CHAPTER 4
  8. CHAPTER 5
  9. CHAPTER 6
  10. CHAPTER 7
  11. CHAPTER 8
  12. CHAPTER 9
  13. DISPERSION
  14. CHAPTER 10
  15. CHAPTER 11
  16. CHAPTER 12
  17. CHAPTER 13
  18. CHAPTER 14
  19. CHAPTER 15
  20. CHAPTER 16
  21. CHAPTER 17
  22. CHAPTER 18
  23. CHAPTER 19
  24. CHAPTER 20
  25. GRAVITATION
  26. CHAPTER 21
  27. CHAPTER 22
  28. CHAPTER 23
  29. CHAPTER 24
  30. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The Kumar son, convincingly played by Praveen, would quietly hide his secret identity as an Al Qaeda sleeper agent. Of course, the writers, who would never be employed by the more culturally sensitive SBS channel, would have overlooked the fact that the family was clearly Hindu and not Muslim.

In Season 432 of Home and Away, the Kumar family would invite all of Summer Bay over for a BBQ tandoori kangaroo to celebrate their new-found citizenship (and perhaps the release of the extended Kumar family from Christmas Island). Little would the residents of Summer Bay know that, due to poor writing, the Kumar son would fulfil his racial stereotype. He would be ‘activated’ and of course spike the tandoori marinade with anthrax.

‘Smrithi, you have to stop daydreaming about the Kumar family. They are never moving to Summer Bay.’ Prashanth snapped her back to reality.

‘How did you know?’

‘It’s obvious when you start talking to yourself in your head. Focus, please. I want the children to be proud of being Australian, but within that national identity, I want them to feel proud of being Tamil as well.’

‘Sri Lankan Tamil,’ she corrected him.

‘No, kunj, just Tamil; Australian Tamil in fact. Sri Lanka is far less our country than Australia,’ he replied.

‘But it is our country of origin; it’s where our people came from. My father would say we are Tamils from Tamil Eelam,’ she said.

‘Yes, your father would say that. Tamil Eelam doesn’t exist. So putting that on a form is only going to get us arrested under a Prevention of Terrorism Act.’

‘Okay, okay. But what about Sri Lankan Tamil then? We are Tamils from Sri Lanka, aren’t we?’ she replied.

‘We are Tamils with no relationship to the birthplace of our parents. We’re a floating diaspora that has to ground itself somewhere.’ He put a hand up to stop her from interrupting as she impatiently tried to correct him. ‘Smrithi, our identity isn’t tied to Sri Lanka beyond our history, which’—he put his hand up again—‘is very important. Where we came from is important. But where we are now is also important. We are ethnically Tamil, which makes us Tamil Australians or Australian Tamils—whichever you prefer.’

‘Australian Tamils. I feel sad. It’s like we have no oor, no village.’ She felt like crying, but she wasn’t sure why. She’d never even been to her parents’ oor. It was such a small word but it held a lot of meaning. Your village was not just about where you lived; it was about who your family was, about who you were. It told others about your character, not just your ancestral location. Your village mattered.