Vice President of BOYCOTT Sri lanka – US Tamil Political Action Committee

Oh Marie Colvin, noble daughter of this Nation,

So many stayed out of conflict zones less newsworthy,

Yet you , trekked the no-go zones in Sri Lanka;

“Journalist!” you shouted, the government grenade their response

Blinding your left eye, for speaking the truth of Tamil misery;

You refused to fake an eye, choosing to wear a black patch

Your devotion to Truth and true journalism, did not have a match

Transcending barriers you negotiated surrenders

But In the killing fields of Sri Lanka, Tamil white flags were blood splattered.

Then the Arab Spring, too hard to resist, and off you went

To witness the pangs of humanity and powers of insanity,

The “free world” media that ignored your Sri Lankan reports

Now paid accolades for your reports on Syrian location

Sri Lankan war criminals took out your eye,

Syrian despots snuffed out your life,

You witnessed last gasps of innocents,

Your courage immortalized the victims.. , Oh Marie.

How can we thank you?…

From the hearts of the Tamil people .. with deep felt gratitude

via Dr E. Shander


Vice President, USTPAC

It is an extraordinary courage that keeps a person to bring to the world the News from very dangerous situations, It is News that the family and friends await but cannot get it. Even after losing an eye what courage it is to continue that..pursuit.
The SriLankan killing was a very tense moment for Tamils all over the world.
What you did and tried to do till the end melts our hearts and the Tamils world over thank you sincerely .
There is a moral Tamil book Thirukkural written 2000 years ago that says the courage is not only fighting a war but for some thing you really love. Your love of Humanity and the common man and woman affected in terrible situations speaks volumes for peaceful co existence of mankind.


The Tamil people will never forget

Marie was a brave women who lost one of her eyes while reporting Tamil sufferings under brutal Sri Lanka government. She will be remembered by all the people of Tamil Eelam.


Friend of Marie’s Mother Rosemarie

Word’s of Comfort

My Dear Rosemarie and Family, Jesus said,”Let not your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms, If it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you; and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me, that you also may be where I am.” John 14.

God has fulfilled every promise He has ever made. He promised us comfort when we’re sad, rest when we’re tired, hope when we feel hopeless, strength when we are weak and peace in the midst of confusion, to be a mother for the motherless and a friend unlike any other.
God has given us all one more thing, so many memories!!!.

And remember this, God the Father lost His only Son, Jesus Christ, on calvary, but was reunited 3 days later. There willl come a day when you will be reunited with Marie, never to be separated again!!!

Just imagine Marie stepping on shore and finding it heaven, of taking hold of a hand and finding it God’s hand. Just imagine her breathing in new air and finding it heaven’s air, of feeling invigorated and finding immortality, Just imagine her passing from a storm of earthly suffering and pain, no more bombs, and danger, but finding eternal calm, just imagine waking up in heaven and finding it to be her new home.

When Great Trees Fall
Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
gnaws on kind words
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.

Marie’s life journey, her courage and all that she did to bring the world’s attention to the powerless victims of war, and rebellion will never be obsolete. Future generations of journalists will learn from her life and follow in her footsteps.

May God Bless You All



I’ve met Marie once in Tbilisi…
Very beautiful, strong, kind, clever…
It is a great loss…
I’ll never forget her…


From Washington to Tripoli…


Marie Colvin! I remember the sweet-faced, gorgeous young woman with the black, lamblike ringlets – and the steel trap mind behind those sparkling eyes! We were both just starting out at UPI Washington in the early 1980s, and would run into each other occasionally at big Washington parties. In recent years we’d run into each other occasionally at big London parties & sometimes not even chat: just exchange eye contact and a little nod, acknowledging our shared history.

Thirty years later she was still a beautiful woman, with that lean, runner’s body, that fantastically lived-in face and the famous black eye patch … Wish I could have seen her at the tiller on one of her long-distance sails: she must have looked like a pirate.

We ended up at the same hotel overlooking Tahrir Square during the uprising, last year. She’d already had one very close call: interviewing the family of a young protester killed in custody, the rumor spread through the neighborhood that there was an Israeli spy in the house, and the family had to help her escape by hiding her in a back room & then letting her out a side door.

At one point, in Cairo, things got very, very hairy: we journalists got word we were going to be targeted by pro-Mubarak thugs; we were warned not to go out onto our balconies for fear of snipers; CBS pulled all but 5 of us out of the city center, and the rest of us had a planning meeting about escape routes and what to do if our hotel was overrun/set on fire. For once I was prepared to listen to the supervising producer’s pleadings NOT to go out at all, the next day: “You won’t be able to tell ANY story if you’ve been arrested or killed,” he pointed out.

Then, the next morning, I ran into Marie over breakfast. We traded tidbits about the security situation, agreeing it was pretty ominous.

“So… are you going out?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

And that was that: if Marie was going out, then I would go out. If Marie had said, no, then I’d have stayed in: any situation too dangerous for Marie was too dangerous for ANYONE.

I told this story to some CBS colleagues, yesterday. There was a little pause – and then we all acknowledged that, well, there probably weren’t ANY situations that Marie wasn’t prepared to enter.

The last time I met her was Tripoli, in the early days of the Libyan uprising. She gave me some tips on how to elude the government minders – but also warned me, correctly, that the dissidents had been driven too deep underground to reach, at that point. She was the go-to person for less well-connected journalists who wanted to get to Qaddafi: I suspect he was still taking her calls till close to the very end.

We laughed at the irony that we only ever met in war zones – even though we lived in the same part of London.

A couple of weeks ago, I turned onto my street and saw Marie cycling the other way. I should text her, I thought, and have her over for lunch. But I let it slide: there would always be another war zone, after all.

In a panel discussion last night I was asked what “lessons” could be drawn from Marie’s death. I resist that word – because it implies she made mistakes that directly led to those final minutes. But I am starting to wonder about the after-effects:

I wonder how many of us, consciously or unconsciously, faced with going into yet another hellhole thought: well, Marie Colvin’s been to plenty of even hairier places than that and she’s survived.

Most of us are still processing the fact of her loss. Eventually, though, I wonder how many of us – consciously or unconsciously – will recalibrate our sense of risk, the next time we’re asked to go someplace deeply dangerous.

Maybe the ultimate “lesson” or meaning of Marie’s death is the reminder that if you cover wars there’s a chance you’ll die in one.

In the same panel discussion, I pointed out that Marie, herself, would have considered the deaths of innocent civilians trapped in Homs to be far more newsworthy than that of a couple of journalists who chose to be there. But, then, that’s what kept sending Marie back into the forsaken, war-torn, wounded corners of the world: to give a voice to those denied a voice.

I thought we’d be disreputable old ladies, together, still running into each other at big London parties and cackling gleefully over our chequered pasts.

Damn. Damn. Damn.



The Syrian people will remember her forever.

Marie Colvin sacrificed her life trying to save the Syrian people from being slaughtered by their own government, I didn’t meet Marie personally but her legacy will live forever in my heart and in all the Syrian people that she was trying to save. We created a page in her honor on Facebook.

My heart and my condolences goes to her family and I hope we can bring her home to her family so she can find peace.



From Annie Lennox

I just wanted to share the blog I posted on the day, after I read what happened…I was trying to express the measure of my profound respect and admiration for Marie, and everything she stood for.

Exceptional men and women, who are prepared to put their own personal safety and security on the line, in order to bear witness to what would otherwise go unnoticed, are the rarest and most precious treasures in the world. It was an absolute honour to have met her.

The post:
“I’ve just learned the terrible news that veteran war correspondent Marie Colvin was killed in the besieged Syrian town of Homs earlier today, after the house that she was staying in was shelled. Marie was one of those special people that made you stand in awe. Boundlessly courageous, and passionately dedicated to justice and human rights, exceptional and exemplary, she was simply outstanding. I am deeply saddened to hear that her life has been taken, and bow my head to her nobility, and everything she stood for. My profound condolences go out to her family and friends.”

With love and deepest sympathy from Annie L.


In Jordan in the 1990s | In Chechnya in 1999. Rex Features


In Libya in 2011. REUTERS/Zohra Bensemra | Giving an address in London in 2010 at a service to commemorate journalists, photographers/cameramen, and support staff who died on assignment. AFP/Getty Images

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