Where time moves slowly:

Down by the Menik Ganga

Aditha DISSANAYAKE

It could be lonely, it could be scary, when you and your family are the only guests in a hotel with seventy rooms. Especially at night; specially when you hear the sound of footsteps outside your room, a thud followed by a loud screech. Ghosts? Yes, if you wish to add some excitement to an otherwise boring night.

But, if you would rather have a scientific explanation the receptionist will gladly enlighten you in the morning. “Polecats. They have been permanent residents here ever since the hotel was built”.

Not only polecats, but five monkeys who keep a vigilant eye on their two legged counterparts from the top of the wood-apple tree, a lizard who has reserved one of the cane chairs in the front portico exclusively for himself, a monitor who patrols the garden every hour on the half hour and an uncountable number of red ants who are on a never ending journey round the flower pots.

What more could you ask for, on a weekday in off-season Kataragama?

“There are days when we have only two or three guests staying with us on weekdays at this time of the year” says Anura Mendis, the only and therefore, the chief waiter who serves us. Born in Balapitiya, having worked in a hotel in Benthota till he was transferred here, he says working in Kataragama is easy as the hotel does not allow liquor, and serves only vegetarian meals.

“Our guests are disciplined with only one aim in their minds, that of fulfilling the wows they had made to God Kataragama. Life in the town too is pious, peaceful and slow moving.”

Near the kovil the cool refreshing waters of the Menik ganga washes away the dust and grime of the travel weary pilgrims, preparing them for the evening pooja. K. Chandrasekaran who has travelled with his wife from Nanu Oya shivers from the cold as he emerges from a dip in the river.

“Back at home we never wash ourselves in cold water in the evenings. But here, a bath is a must before we enter the holy precincts” he tells me, recognizing a fellow mountain dweller, having seen me at the Nuwara Eliya market where he works as a shop assistant, as we make our way to the kovil.

At 6.30 in the evening the pooja begins. As the drums begin to beat, as the bells toll, the atmosphere fills with hope, expectations, gratitude and joy. As you watch the Alaththi pooja conducted by two Alaththi Ammas who offer two lamps to God Kataragama, invoking blessings on those gathered at the Devala you feel a sense of security engulfing you.

Back at the inn, it is comforting to see a three-wheeler in the car park. Tonight we will not be the only guests to sit inside the large dinning room.

Anura Mendis

Chandra: her happiness is a form of courage

I listen eagerly as the new guest tells us about his regular trips to Kataragama not simply to seek divine assistance but in search of inner peace. Here is his story, which, following Chaucer’s footsteps I call the Merchant’s Tale.

A businessman who lives in Athurugiriya, the merchant says ever since two years ago when his business began to fall into the doldrums he travels to Kataragama twice a month in a three wheeler, meditates in front of the Kiri vehera till late into the night, and leaves early in the morning.

On this visit he has with him two saffron robes which he plans to give to the chief incumbent of a temple he has seen on his way here. “I have seen the Hamuduruwo in the temple premises, dressed in robes which are so old the wind might tear them into shreds.

I know the villagers who live near the temple are not wealthy enough to offer a new robe to the monk. Tomorrow on my way back to Colombo I plan to stop at the temple and offer the two robes I have brought with me, to the Hamuduruwo.”

The other guest who had dropped in to have dinner and who intends to board a bus for Colombo at 9.30 in the night works as a Manager in a company that manufactures furniture.

I christen him The Carpenter and here is his story. With his mind centered entirely on reaching Colombo before 8.30 am, he talks about tralvelling at night in semi-luxury buses. Since of late, every day at 9.30 pm three buses leave the Kataragama town; two for Colombo and surprise of surprises, one for Jaffna.

“There are times when I wish I could board the bus for Jaffna” he says with a wistful look in his eyes and adds. “Perhaps one day, when I have reached a higher designation in my career.”

His optimism is echoed by Chandra, who has a vegetable stall on the Kataragama-Buttala road. While her two year old baby sleeps in a make shift crib among the pumpkins and watermelons she greets the passing vehicles with a bright smile and apologizes for the high costs of the vegetables when they stop to buy her produce.

“We are waiting for the rains to come” she explains. “We hope by the 25th of this month the rain gods will give us some rain. Our vegetable plots are parched and the plants are scorched”.

Life is not easy. But she has the stamina to bear all her difficulties with an engaging smile. “Go well” she blesses us placing the notes we give her in a biscuit tin which had till now, been empty.

Back at home, going through the photos in my camera I re-live the few moments I spent with Chandra and ask myself the question that had been nagging me when I began this journey. “What’s the point of travel”. I realize Chandra’s smile holds the answer.