Chandrika Sasikumar, 35, is just back home at her single-storey two room house at Kallady near Batticaloa in Sri Lanka, after the funeral of her husband Sasikumar and son Merujen Sasikumar. Chandrika tries to hold back her tears. "What to do? Everything is over," she tells to console herself. The deadly Easter Sunday blasts on April 21 in Sri Lanka claimed the life of her husband and her son.
It was a Sunday mass and a day of celebration as it was Easter, for Chandrika and her family of four. Her son dressed up specially, in a full sleeve black and white checked shirt, a blazer and a black trousers. As others were getting ready, before setting out, he was at the broken window, to get a selfie. "He would always get a selfie when he dresses up for the any occasion," says Chandrika showing pictures of her son in her phone. As they set out for the Zion Church in Batticaloa, 5 km from their house, everything seemed happy. As with every week, Sunday classes to read the Bible got over at 8.30 am near the lawn. Chandrika and her daughter Rekshika, 7 went inside for the Easter mass, while Sasikumar and Merujen were over seeing the breakfast being served at the lawn. Near Sasikumar was his close friend, Ramesh Raju, a real estate contractor who lived just a street away from their house.
The two were happy chatting, as a stranger with a beard and a backpack, came at the church entrance. Since he looked different from the usual visitors, Ramesh stopped him and enquired. The man said he wanted to convert to Christianity and wanted to take Baptism. Ramesh grew suspicious and pushed him, saying he had to find out from the father at the Zion Church before letting him in. By then Sasikumar too joined to enquire about the stranger. Within seconds, the stranger pulled a trigger in his backpack, causing the explosion that blew Sasikumar and Ramesh into pieces.
Sundari Raju with a poster of her son Ramesh
"They gave only the coffin. There were no body parts that could be identified," says Chandrika. Eight days after the blast, post the funeral of her husband and son at her in-laws village Pothuvil near Ampara disctrict, Chandrika is back in Batticaloa with her daughter. "I dont know what next. I will have to raise her," she says pointing at her daughter who is seen playing with her kitchen toy set. As they reached home, Rekshika told her mother, "What are going to do with the clothes used by appa and anna? Give it to someone in need."
Sasikumar was the sole breadwinner of the family. His small eatery which would sell parotta and polrotti was very popular in the locality. "He used to prepare everything himself," says Chandrika. A street away from her house, hangs a banner condoling the death of Ramesh Raju and his sister Sujikala's family of three. "My one year old grand son was very active and knowledgable. Never thought his life would end so soon," tells Sundari Raju, mother of Ramesh and Sujikala. As Ramesh was pushing the stranger from the church entrance, Sujikala, her husband and son were about to enter the church. Since the blasts, Ramesh's wife Krishanthini had not spoken a word. "Her two daughters and she haven't come out of the shock," says a relative of Krishanthini.
Elsewhere at the Batticaloa hospital, a few kilometres away from the Zion Church atleast 25 people are still battling to recover from the grave injuries caused by the blast. "Two others died today," said the director of the hospital, who didn't want to be named. Lying in the last corner of the 25th ward of the hospital is 26-year-old Rebekha, her face fully burnt and severe injuries on her hands and legs. "We have been asked to take her to Colombo for a plastic surgery. She is conscious though," tells her husband Niroshan. The couple has been married for just two months. On Easter Sunday, while Niroshan preferred staying back home, Rebekha went to the church with her two aunts, who have been blown to pieces.
"Should we go to the church anymore? I will go when Rebekha is back to normal life," tells Niroshan.
