In the heart of every picture lies a memory, and in every memory a whisper of resistance. Lost is a quiet uprising, a testament rendered in shadows and light, grief and grace.

Following the military coup of February 2021, Myanmar plunged into loud protest, violent suppression and silencing. At its core the book is about death, but not only in the literal sense: it is about the loss of democracy, the erosion of freedom, and the heartbreak of a country made to mourn again. The pictures, quiet and arresting, belong to a visual language deeply rooted in the country's cultural life; they show funerals not as isolated events but as vital communal expressions.

The heart of the book is its second layer, the written word: interwoven with the images is a series of obituaries, not records in the conventional sense but fictional narratives, each carrying the weight of a life cut short and a story never fully told. They speak of sons and daughters, neighbours and teachers, poets and protesters.