Circling back to Rajiv Gandhi's assassination, a traumatic moment in Madras' history

The Hindu

2 days ago

It was a summer night of stifling heat. The kind that forces you to seek refuge in the terrace, sprinkle some water, roll a mat, and lapse into intermittent sleep. It was May 21, 1991, and Madras denizens, coping with a humid day, were all set to rest.
Traffic on the streets dwindled, some flights glided through the clear skies, a few discussed the annual kathiri-veyil (peak summer), and suddenly, a man ran across with a lament: 'Rajiv Gandhiye konnutanga (Rajiv Gandhi has been killed).'
There was a sense of disbelief before the truth settled down in all its gory details. Yes, India's former prime minister had been assassinated during an election rally at Sriperumbudur. A suicide bomber had done the terrible deed, and the motive extended all the way to Sri Lanka, with the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) being the conspirators.
India's earlier attempt at playing mediator during the Sri Lankan Tamil crisis evoked varying reactions. Obviously, the LTTE was not in agreement, and the subsequent move to have an Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF) stationed in the neighbouring island added to the complications.
Once news spread about the assassination, the city plunged into shock. Public aversion cropped up against the LTTE as Tamil Nadu, known for its hospitality, had to now confront a political murder in its backyard. There was always a kinship with Sri Lankan Tamils, that feeling remained, but any latent support to outfits like LTTE began to dwindle.
Doordarshan and All India Radio were sought for updates. This was the pre-internet era and there were no cellphones either, and news trickled in slowly. The night was long and eventually at dawn, papers ranging from The Hindu to Dina Thanthi were scanned for information about a killing that triggered shockwaves through India and the world.
Recently, the 34th anniversary of Rajiv Gandhi's death passed by, and a memorial at Sriperumbudur on the Chennai-Bengaluru highway serves as a stark reminder of a sombre night three decades ago. Much has been written about the ghastly incident, and attempts were made even in films, cutting across languages, to capture the emotion and chaos of that time.
Movies like Cyanide, Kuttrapathirikai, Madras Cafe, Mission 90 Days, and The Terrorist, all dealt with this theme. A nuanced gaze on the Sri Lankan Tamil issue was also sensitively revealed by Mani Ratnam's evocative Kannathil Muthamittal. And just as another May recedes, Chennai continues to grapple with heat and the odd summer rain. There is also the matter of dealing with a queasy memory from a distant night, one that altered India's political landscape.