Island tour in the north , Nainathiv on the boat bus… Punakudathiv remembering the dead…

An interesting journey by boat and bus in the middle of the sea to reach an island. The first thing I wanted to say was about a temple. Located in the middle of Pok Strait on Nantiv Island, the ancient and historical Hindu temple is dedicated to Goddess Nagapusani Amman.

Nakadiv then is today Nagadeepa.

The Jaffna Peninsula is another sacred pilgrimage site in the north that is home to many of the Buddhist heritages cherished by the Buddha. The Jaffna Peninsula was then known as ‘Nakadiva’ or ‘Nagadeepa’. But today the island near Nainativ, which is not far from the peninsula, is known as ‘Nagadeepa’.
According to the chronicles, five years after the Buddha’s enlightenment, Lord Buddha came to Sri Lanka for the second time to Nagadeepa on a full moon day in the month of Bak. It was for the purpose of stopping the great war between the Na kings named Mahodara and Chulodara, who were the Naga tribes. On behalf of Lord Buddha, who settled the war, the two Narayanas offered mini garlands, which were the omens of war, at the same battle ground.

Samiddha Sumana, a tree deity who picked a milk plant in the land of Jetavanarama, where the Buddha lived, lifted the milk plant from the ground and rose up like a scepter, and offered it to the kings. It is mentioned in the chronicles that later the two kings of Na established the Kiripalu tree and placed the Minipala also and built the Kiripalu Saya or Rajayatana Chaitya.


Punkudativ island tourism is simply a reminiscence of the dark memories of the past three decades. Many things that went beyond seeing the ‘Perukka Maram’ or baobab tree that I saw during my trips to Delft and Mannar were thus recorded on my camera lenses. There is so much to write but let me think.

Rebirth
As if everything was over
Those who are talking are on those roads
still me
I will walk on my stomach
Like a black snail
At the end of the previous day
Inhaled
The stench of death
My nose still sucks
Time,
My dear friend
The one who cries and cries while melting the ‘Pinda’
Tell my mother
Natta fell dry
Like a swollen bone
Like the sky covered with jets
Gray full of light
Like desert fire
That there is a revival.
Shirmaila winothini

Translation Ibnu Asumath

(Malavun wenuwen pudana bath.)

Viduni Basnayaka

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