The third novel in the quintet depicts the lives of the people in the Tamil areas of Sri Lanka. A time of people leaving, police and army repression, bombs falling indiscriminately, people taken away never to return. "The reality of their circumstances had drained their lives of colour. It was a time when everyday stabbings, deaths, and shattered limbs were becoming a part of their story. Death swooped before their eyes, randomly snatched people up. It didn't care if its target was old, young, or newborn. The bombs that exploded with thundering sounds and leaving huge quakes in their wake had stopped many hearts. Some had lost their senses. Many underwent gruesome surgeries, the flesh of thighs grafted onto their faces, Some were amputated at the ankle, or the knee or the hip, many lost their arms. This was the time when wood and wheelchairs substituted for legs. Artificial hands were not much use. It was a time of deprivation, and survival was everything. Our earth/ our days/ when none of it/ is for us/ a time like this/ could not come again...such torment. So Yasothara/ you/ live in this moment... An urging.