It was the first time I travelled through the eastern part of the island or at least I don’t remember if I have. Oh but Trincomalee, Muthur and Kinniya - yes on a familty tour soon after the ceasefire. My earliest imagination of what may have been the east of the country was war, blood shed, tears, refugees, soldiers, forests and fear. I wasn’t very far.
The sea wasn’t at it’s best behaviour at “Mareena Beach” – commonly referred to by the village folks. It was the only place they had had, to visit for some entertainment. The place doesn’t look very much worth it. The picture of what may have been before the tsunami struck is unimaginable. It has left us nothing to work back on.
Rows of graves, pieces of equipment, a picture frame here, an armchair there, clothes thrown about, weeping widows, very bad roads, flooded areas and a few children loitering around. Hmm… Every next thing you see seems to be worse than what you saw last and it makes you wonder… is it ever gonna come back?
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