There’s a dry wind that blows through Mannar, the kind that tastes like salt and history. It howls over lagoons thick with flamingos, nudges the rusted skeletons of colonial forts, and settles like incense among the stone pillars of a temple that refuses to die. This is Thiruketheeswaram, one of the five ancient Iswarams of Lord Shiva in Sri Lanka. For thousands of years, pilgrims have whispered mantras here. Armies have marched past it, priests have anointed it, colonizers have desecrated it,

Just off the western coast of the Jaffna peninsula, across causeways and narrow spits of land edged by prawn and sea cucumber farms, lie the quiet islands of Pungudutivu and Nainativu—places rich in history, hardship, and humanity. Though I had previously set foot on nearby islands like Mandativu, Kayts, Nainativu, and Karainagar during the war years, Pungudutivu remained a name I’d only heard in passing—until now. Prompted by a doctor’s account of the resilience and trials faced at the Pungudu

At Kilinochchi District General Hospital, something significant was happening without much fanfare. Dr. Sivalingarajah Raguraman—a consultant obstetrician who teaches at the University of Jaffna and graduated from there himself—was at the center of it all. He's the kind of person who doesn't need to announce his presence in a room, but you notice him anyway. Tall, thoughtful, with the quiet confidence of someone who knows his purpose. They were opening a subfertility clinic and IVF center—the f