Kumar nav
The horror
Dhanuskodi. This was the extreme point that one could walk that day as the tide dictates the length of this once buzzing but now ruined town; the shoreline changes wildly, to the extent of few square kilometers, during November, December many areas get submerged. Thalai mannar (Sri Lanka) is 15- 20 kilometers away from this point, for a long time this has been the landing zone for thousands and thousands of my Tamil brothers and sisters seeking refuge. The horrors they have been through before escaping the civil war and the horrors they undergo at the hand of authority once they land here are gut-wrenchingly painful.
Imagine holding your life and your two little kid's life in your hands, escaping a war that has claimed one too many lives of your family members and came pretty close to claiming yours too, on a Kalla thoni (sea coyote) with a belief that better life awaits you. But what do you get? You get dropped off on one of the seven islands, near the main island, in middle of the night, that disappear and appear due to variations of the tide. Awaiting cost guard to get you out; hours later, you walk few kilometers, with hunger and dehydration, reach the checkpoint where officials in Khaki openly steal that gold chain around your neck, which you sincerely believed would provide food for your kids for a week.
Note: This is a pilgrimage group just exploring the island. My story has nothing to do them but everything to do with me.
The horror
Dhanuskodi. This was the extreme point that one could walk that day as the tide dictates the length of this once buzzing but now ruined town; the shoreline changes wildly, to the extent of few square kilometers, during November, December many areas get submerged. Thalai mannar (Sri Lanka) is 15- 20 kilometers away from this point, for a long time this has been the landing zone for thousands and thousands of my Tamil brothers and sisters seeking refuge. The horrors they have been through before escaping the civil war and the horrors they undergo at the hand of authority once they land here are gut-wrenchingly painful.
Imagine holding your life and your two little kid's life in your hands, escaping a war that has claimed one too many lives of your family members and came pretty close to claiming yours too, on a Kalla thoni (sea coyote) with a belief that better life awaits you. But what do you get? You get dropped off on one of the seven islands, near the main island, in middle of the night, that disappear and appear due to variations of the tide. Awaiting cost guard to get you out; hours later, you walk few kilometers, with hunger and dehydration, reach the checkpoint where officials in Khaki openly steal that gold chain around your neck, which you sincerely believed would provide food for your kids for a week.
Note: This is a pilgrimage group just exploring the island. My story has nothing to do them but everything to do with me.