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y memory begins, as always, with the rain — crouched as a small boy against the
great wall of the old colonial building that once housed the post office. It
frightened me, the great monsoon downpour, and saddened me too, threw me
back on ...
'I'll see you at home, Uncle Lal,' he said quietly and walked out into the pouring
rain. 'Wait, you'll catch your death,' Lal called after him but his voice was already
drowned in the downpour. 7 ( f l old ON TO ME, hold on to me,' Vijay heard ...
There was a clap of thunder and the rain began to pour down. 'You had better get
off the stoop and come and sit over here,' Uncle Para admonished the younger
men, pointing to the chairs on either side of him. 'It's going to come down for real
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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