Your tears are mine;

so are your dreams

Mothers, fathers, sisters,

brothers, sons and daughters,

Forgive us,

for burying you, unidentified,

in this unmarked grave

It's a funeral without rites,

alas, we do not have any priests

Sans pānsukula too,

not even a piece of white cloth is left;

The sea enraged,

had swallowed all we had,

except our humanity and courage

So let us leave you here,

in the middle of this barren land,

that bears no fruits

Dear mothers and fathers,

We never asked,

whether you were Sinhalese, Tamils or Muslims

Did it bother us,

whether you were Buddhists, Christians or Hindus?

For we know,

that matters no more

Did the tsunamis care?

so why should we do?

We all know once you were humans,

as much as we all are

We also know,

once you had pleasant and ambitious dreams,

concealed in the deepest corners of your hearts,

like we all have

Don't we know,

that you loved to be loved and to enjoy life?

Don't we all?

Dear brothers and sisters,

Forgive us,

for these humble rites,

because that's what we can afford right now

All we can do is to chant in unison,

.....yathavari vahapura - paripurenthi sagaram;

eva meva yatho dinno - pethanam upakappathi.....

Dear sons and daughters,

Forgive us,

for leaving you here alone and cold,

in this unmarked grave

For we have more important tasks to do,

for you all

Can we let all of you die in vain?

Don't we have to prove,

that you scarified your lives for a united land,

that does not differentiate humans,

by their race, creed, class or caste?

Don't we have to prove one day that we can - and will,

fulfil your own dreams,

for a land of eternal peace,

that no tsunami can ever reduce to rubble?

Rest in peace sweet princes and princesses,

We are not going to give up that dream

Your dreams are now ours,

and the day we achieve them,

is now closer than you ever thought

- Chanuka Wattegama

December 31, 2004