No Stone Unturned

The tuk-tuk rattled its way past the lean palmyrah trees scattered across the field. It passed narrow grass paths that led to nowhere, and the remnants of houses, churches and temples destroyed during the war – the route to what was once Mr Poothathamby Pararajasingham’s hometown was deserted.
It was only with hopes against hope that I set out in search of Mr Pararajasingham, my octogenarian journalism professor’s long-lost friend, to the scarcely-populated Chavakachcheri – one of the biggest towns in Jaffna district of Sri Lanka.
It was a destination apart – quite close yet away from the once war-torn, now touristic capital of the Northern Province – Jaffna, and from its streets packed with small shops interrupted only by the bright red and white walls of majestic temples. Chavakachcheri also missed the lively lanes with tring-trings of cycles and pom-poms of autorickshaws, and the tempting smell of hot vadas from roadside eateries that characterised Jaffna.
I arrived at a street lined with newer houses amidst the fragments of walls and stones left behind by the civil war. Where the old police station was supposed to be was barren land. There was a dilapidated house, though, just near the street corner with lampposts outside the main gate. It was “bang opposite” the station – like my professor said – but devoid of life.
“We don’t know who lived there,” many helpful residents said in the common sing-song voices and chaste Tamil, half of which I could follow owing to the diluted version spoken back home in Tamil Nadu.
My heart skipped a beat when a woman – in her long colourful nightie contrasted by her jet black side braid – came out of the end house to tell us that her grandmother could actually know Mr Pararajasingham. She was too old, like those at a nearby old-age home who still think their sons died in the war while they’re settled abroad in real or vice versa. Neither could she hear nor understand what I asked.
The twilight made gloomy shadows dance on the walls of the ramshackle structure or so I felt. It was back to nothingness, but it was the first time I saw history, people and stories that could be told only by travelling.