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Where do we carry our dead when our soil is stolen and our oceans were turned into impenetrable walls and borders? Where do we take our grief when our kovil bells are forced into silence and our mourners made illegal? Where do we sing our songs of sorrow and resilience when our lips have been sealed?
We carry them afar. We carry them in our suitcases across the sea.
Five years after the end of war, a new monument for the thousands of dead Tamil civilians and combatants will be inaugurated.
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