BBC NEWS South Asia By Sanjoy Majumder, Mullaitivu .
Many wander through the ruins of St Peter's church. The hollowed out shell of St Peter's church lies on the beach in Mullaitivu, in north-eastern Sri Lanka.
Just metres from the sea, only the facade remains. The rest was destroyed by December's tsunami.
Chandran Siskandaraja used to attend church regularly, from his fishing village just a few kilometres away.
"I always found solace here. It was a place of refuge from my troubles," he told the BBC News website.
Now he comes here every evening with several other fellow fishermen.
All of them have one thing in common - they are widowers after the tidal wave claimed their wives.
Many of them wander aimlessly through the ruins of the church.
Others sit and gaze out at the sea, in their hand a bottle of arrack, the locally brewed spirit made of palm or rice.
"We have nothing else to do," Chandran says simply.
"There is no-one at home to go back to."
Family torn apart
Nearly 60% of the men in Chandran's village have lost their wives.
It is a situation mirrored along the coast and is presenting a major social problem.
My wife used to wait for me every day with a cup of tea -Antony
"Many of the women died while their husbands survived simply because they weren't strong enough," says Rachel Bernhard, a field delegate with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC).
Others were simply caught unaware.
Antony Karnal had taught his wife to mend his fishing nets, which is what she was doing when the first wave came in.
She grabbed her five children and ran indoors.
Antony, who was outside, managed to survive by clinging on to the branch of a tree.
But his little hut collapsed and was swept away, and with it his family. In these social set ups, it is the woman who runs the family as a unit
Prof Sivathambi
Tamil scholar
He too comes to St Peter's every day in the late afternoon.
"That's when the local schools let out the children," he says.
"I can't bear to see them - they remind me of my own children. So I come here."
Psychological scar
Antony had been married for 17 years and still struggles to come to terms with his loss.
"My wife used to wait for me every day with a cup of tea when I would come in from the sea," he says, his eyes brimming with tears.
Observers say the trauma of losing their wives has left a deep psychological scar on these men, and many of them are quite simply unable to cope.
"The question of family formation has been deeply affected. In these social set ups, it is the woman who runs the family as a unit," says Professor Sivathambi, a Tamil scholar at Colombo University.
In these heavily male-dominated societies, many say it is difficult for men to be demonstrative of their emotions.
"It is even more difficult when they are fishermen and have to live up to their image as hardened seafarers, able to take on the elements and everything with it," says local teacher Ramanan.
For some of them, it leads to alarming consequences.
I meet Kannan walking on the beach by the church.
His eyes are bloodshot, his shirtsleeve streaked with blood - he has been slashing his arm with a knife.
He lost his wife and his 10-month-old daughter, his only child, in the tsunami.
Once a teetotaller, he has started drinking heavily, locals say.
"Come home with me, I'll take you to my daughter," he tells me.
Somebody comes forward to take him away gently and get him medical attention.
Little help
Aid workers say the psychological impact of the tsunami was the first thing to strike them when they began arriving in the north-east.
Many say the impact was severe on a people already traumatised by years of civil war.
"The family as a unit has been completely stripped bare," says Rachel Bernhard of the ICRC.
Kannan has still to come to terms with the loss of his child
And resolving the problem is not straightforward.
"These men cannot remarry that easily," says Ramanan.
"There are issues of social acceptability, of dowry, of caste to be dealt with.
"They cannot simply marry any woman who is single or willing."
There are other social issues which present a major problem.
"Some of the men have to take care of their children in the absence of their wives," says Ms Bernhard.
It is something they are absolutely unused to.
"It is even more difficult if the children are daughters. It is simply unacceptable socially for a man to be living in close proximity to his girl child," adds Ms Bernhard.
Many of the tsunami victims received counselling from the outset, especially from international aid agencies and religious institutions like the church.
But most of the counsellors targeted young children who had been orphaned - almost none of the fishermen widowers had met a counsellor or had access to psychological help.
'Family backbone'
There are some who say there is a long-term issue to be addressed as well. Women played a vital economic role in fishing families and were pivotal to the marketing of the fish.
"If you go to any village fish market, you will notice that women are the immediate point of sale," says Prof Sivathambi.
As the men come in from the sea with the catch, their wives would help them unload it, sort out the fish and then sell it.
"Men are only the bread earners. Women are the backbone of the family," adds Prof Sivathambi.
"Take them out and it leads to instability."
Many wander through the ruins of St Peter's church. The hollowed out shell of St Peter's church lies on the beach in Mullaitivu, in north-eastern Sri Lanka.
Just metres from the sea, only the facade remains. The rest was destroyed by December's tsunami.
Chandran Siskandaraja used to attend church regularly, from his fishing village just a few kilometres away.
"I always found solace here. It was a place of refuge from my troubles," he told the BBC News website.
Now he comes here every evening with several other fellow fishermen.
All of them have one thing in common - they are widowers after the tidal wave claimed their wives.
Many of them wander aimlessly through the ruins of the church.
Others sit and gaze out at the sea, in their hand a bottle of arrack, the locally brewed spirit made of palm or rice.
"We have nothing else to do," Chandran says simply.
"There is no-one at home to go back to."
Family torn apart
Nearly 60% of the men in Chandran's village have lost their wives.
It is a situation mirrored along the coast and is presenting a major social problem.
My wife used to wait for me every day with a cup of tea -Antony
"Many of the women died while their husbands survived simply because they weren't strong enough," says Rachel Bernhard, a field delegate with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC).
Others were simply caught unaware.
Antony Karnal had taught his wife to mend his fishing nets, which is what she was doing when the first wave came in.
She grabbed her five children and ran indoors.
Antony, who was outside, managed to survive by clinging on to the branch of a tree.
But his little hut collapsed and was swept away, and with it his family. In these social set ups, it is the woman who runs the family as a unit
Prof Sivathambi
Tamil scholar
He too comes to St Peter's every day in the late afternoon.
"That's when the local schools let out the children," he says.
"I can't bear to see them - they remind me of my own children. So I come here."
Psychological scar
Antony had been married for 17 years and still struggles to come to terms with his loss.
"My wife used to wait for me every day with a cup of tea when I would come in from the sea," he says, his eyes brimming with tears.
Observers say the trauma of losing their wives has left a deep psychological scar on these men, and many of them are quite simply unable to cope.
"The question of family formation has been deeply affected. In these social set ups, it is the woman who runs the family as a unit," says Professor Sivathambi, a Tamil scholar at Colombo University.
In these heavily male-dominated societies, many say it is difficult for men to be demonstrative of their emotions.
"It is even more difficult when they are fishermen and have to live up to their image as hardened seafarers, able to take on the elements and everything with it," says local teacher Ramanan.
For some of them, it leads to alarming consequences.
I meet Kannan walking on the beach by the church.
His eyes are bloodshot, his shirtsleeve streaked with blood - he has been slashing his arm with a knife.
He lost his wife and his 10-month-old daughter, his only child, in the tsunami.
Once a teetotaller, he has started drinking heavily, locals say.
"Come home with me, I'll take you to my daughter," he tells me.
Somebody comes forward to take him away gently and get him medical attention.
Little help
Aid workers say the psychological impact of the tsunami was the first thing to strike them when they began arriving in the north-east.
Many say the impact was severe on a people already traumatised by years of civil war.
"The family as a unit has been completely stripped bare," says Rachel Bernhard of the ICRC.
Kannan has still to come to terms with the loss of his child
And resolving the problem is not straightforward.
"These men cannot remarry that easily," says Ramanan.
"There are issues of social acceptability, of dowry, of caste to be dealt with.
"They cannot simply marry any woman who is single or willing."
There are other social issues which present a major problem.
"Some of the men have to take care of their children in the absence of their wives," says Ms Bernhard.
It is something they are absolutely unused to.
"It is even more difficult if the children are daughters. It is simply unacceptable socially for a man to be living in close proximity to his girl child," adds Ms Bernhard.
Many of the tsunami victims received counselling from the outset, especially from international aid agencies and religious institutions like the church.
But most of the counsellors targeted young children who had been orphaned - almost none of the fishermen widowers had met a counsellor or had access to psychological help.
'Family backbone'
There are some who say there is a long-term issue to be addressed as well. Women played a vital economic role in fishing families and were pivotal to the marketing of the fish.
"If you go to any village fish market, you will notice that women are the immediate point of sale," says Prof Sivathambi.
As the men come in from the sea with the catch, their wives would help them unload it, sort out the fish and then sell it.
"Men are only the bread earners. Women are the backbone of the family," adds Prof Sivathambi.
"Take them out and it leads to instability."
