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He had gone to the May Day rally in Colombo and come back a disappointed
man. 'Useless bloody matches,' he spluttered between coughs. 'This damn
government imports every blessed thing under the sun, but not matches.' He put
But the days when he would reach out for the torchlight under his pillow and light
his way into the kitchen, where he lit a fire and waited for his daughter to come
and make that first eye-opening cup of tea, were gone. There was no fire to light ...
gone, the old man would not know why he was hanging around, and his wife was
not there to tell him. 'He is so damn pig-headed, Uncle Lal, that he could quite
easily decide that it was time to go, and will himself to die, as a matter of course.
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WHEN MEMORY DIESUser Review - Kirkus
First published in Britain, a novel that movingly details how three generations of idealists try to find meaning and purpose as their country, Sri Lanka, becomes another killing field. The author ... Read full review