Kuala Lampur, June 2 -- Just an hour ago, I passed through Mullivaikkal. And like every time before, it felt like my lungs forgot how to breathe. The air is too still, too silent, like the entire landscape is holding its breath. Even the wind seems reluctant to move, as though it too remembers what happened here. The coconut trees sway quietly, but there's no music in them - only mourning. The sand is soft underfoot, but it feels wrong, like it's made of ash, not soil. I don't know if ghosts are real, but if they are, they live here - unnamed, unburied, and unatoned for.

You don't walk through Mullivaikkal. You move through it like a funeral procession, even when you're alone. Because this isn't just a village - it's a mass grave. It's a...