Read about the wonderful life Sinhala-Tamil people led in the past…
One would not expect to find a single Sinhalese or a Sinhalese name throughout the entire Jaffna district. In the past, when politics based on ethnic division in the north took root, living in Jaffna was extremely challenging for both the Tamil and Sinhalese populations. Both, then and now, these politicians with full of racist views attempt to conceal the truth and promote racial division rather than racial reconciliation.
Jaffna was not the same back then as it is now. A number of Sinhalese who lived in Jaffna about 30 years ago have returned to find their roots and live in Navakkuli. Even today, they recall how they lived happily in Jaffna back then, with no recollection of such a crisis. They fondly recall past memories because they were young at the time but are now in their forties. They are overjoyed to be able to spend their final years in the community where they grew up. A man in his 70s who had been chatting with this stranger for a while began to reveal his background
I first came to Jaffna in 1949. I was a child then. My uncle was settled in Jaffna. I came and stayed with my uncle. They were doing a big bakery called Chandra Bakery here. My uncle has been living in Jaffna since the 1920s. Back then, the bakeries in Jaffna were run by Sinhalese people. I also helped with bakery work when I was younger. There was no difference between Sinhala and Tamil. Sinhalese people run bakeries, jewelry shops, and carpenter shops. Those days were very beautiful.
I remember very well that around 1958, some Tamils started agitating against the letter ‘Sri’. But no one thought that the incidents would grow to such a large extent. I was then married and lived in Jaffna with my wife. We continued to live in Jaffna even after the ‘Sri’ incidents. Then the trouble started in 1977. We left Jaffna and came to Anuradhapura. After getting back to normal, we went back to Jaffna again. But in 1983, a situation came where it was impossible to live peacefully in Jaffna….’
Even today, we cannot adequately explain the feelings that arose in those troubled minds that formed without distinction between Sinhalese and Tamils three decades ago. Most people had to give up everything they had worked for. Jaffna had over 15,000 Sinhalese residents at the time, and they ran nearly 480 bakeries. They lived in an era when the Sinhalese Great Laboratory in Jaffna, which is now only marked by a post box, was the largest laboratory. The nation was divided on racism in the face of deplorable politics.
I’m reciting a poem based on the imagination and experience of a wonderful poet who lived his life with such a background. ‘Light of Darkness’ is a poem written by Tamil poet Uma Varadaraja and translated by Mr. Ibnu Asumath.
‘Maraneye wiyali kola samaga
kurulla kanntharaye avidina kalayai
greasma nathi unge
sirura samaga
husma hirwii etha
murthashariragalawala
siyallanma
thamthamange thubasathula
sarpayinvuha….
soda pisada etha
malasiruru mawatha
para maruwena ekiyak
wata pitya balai….
thama samiya wedika
miyagiya isthanaye
mewasareda
sulaga samaga poraka
pahanak dalwanney
The beauty of these story-telling songs created images in me of the events of the Jaffna Peninsula that I visited. In the face of the western invasions that I visited sometimes, the inspiration of the Portuguese, Dutch and English people in the architecture related to the construction of cities, there are many archaeological factors that can be seen in Nedantiv or Delft, Nainativ or Nagadeepa, Mandativ or Makuluduwa, Punkudativ or Puwanna Island and Analativ etc. Even though there are wonderful and serene destinations that have attracted attention, the current discourse as well as the reflections of the past woven around them are very boring.
Enjoy Yal beauty. Boarding the Vada Taraki sailing ship on the Blue Diamond, the ancient dovecote near the court complex on Delft Island, the Dutch hospital built by the English, the court complex, coral reefs, herds of wild horses, Sri Lanka’s most impressive baobab tree, From the colonial past, Meekanam Fort, Queen’s Tower or Quinda Tower, ruins of a Chola destroyed stupa made of coral stones, rocks growing near the site of Hindu Pillar Temple, ruins of British stables, a large banyan tree with its leaves scattered, giant foot print, Shiva Temple demolished by the Cholas and Delft Beach. But, know that there are many stories left in this land that even the ocean cannot bear.
Because even though the island tour gives you a lot of tourist experience, the lives of the islanders struggling with the fishing industry were not so sweet then and still today because not only the vegetables and fruits brought from Jaffna, but even the milk packet was a rupee or more than the selling price. They don’t have power lines like we do. There are several diesel powered generators. It is very challenging to come to the Jaffna Teaching Hospital for an emergency treatment or an emergency delivery. The transportation between these islands is done by ferry or boat bus.
No matter how strong the coral reefs around the houses are, the materials needed for construction are brought from the city to the islands via small boats. And something special that caught the eye during the island tour was the bikes with brake pedals removed. All the bikes they bring to the island have their brake pedals removed to prevent erosion of the damaged areas by the salt wind. They are people who are used to a very simple life. Even today, even one of them can handle the Sinhala language well, probably because of the trade connections that existed back then, as well as the educated community that worked in Colombo. However, this is another wonderful decade of our own brotherhood.
Whether it is the audial pittuwa cooked in the palm leaves covered house, the sea fish curry made with palm flour pittuwa, or the meal served with dried sea bream broth in the sand, the assumption of the foreigner who sees the islanders living with limited infrastructure is that inequality reigns in a time when resources are distributed in an unequal way. What we see here is that a long period of time will pass in the face of powerful politics.
Just before reaching Kuruvikkaduwan Jetty from Jaffna, Punkuduthiv is another area that symbolizes ‘abandonment’. Although this event is popular for viewing the large Perukku Maram or baobab tree, flying over the Calvian Point to see the kingfishers and photography, there is still something more left in this land. Nothing to say. Don’t forget to visit these while visiting the islands.
There are many things to feel when you see the doors and windows of the house. Sharmila Vinothini, a young poet from Jaffna, makes this point very clear. It is the poetic text called ‘Gerawama’ translated by Ibn Asuma. She asks that this land is still crying because of the strong root system of a huge tree that grew from the seeds that someone sowed. Even today, the cooling wind or rain did not cool them down. They always looked for a large open space where they could run with their arms and legs stretched out rather than with their arms and legs folded.
kawrundo vapiru beeja
kawrundo damu pasa
kawrundo hadu kuduwa
kawrundo kala divruma
kawrundo issu mal
kawrundo vadanayakala geetha
kawrundo vagiru kadulu
siyalla kawrunwisin hoo
baddata gath pasu…
Kawenuwendo sisila vu sulagaada
kawenuwendo haba aa wahi bodada
kawenuwen hadu wessada
kawenuwndo diyawa giya pasada
kawenuendo sausara wu bumiyada
Hadana hada kahatath no asse…
Selvaraja Yal, whom he met during Mandathiv’s visit, addressed the guest thus.
‘I lost my eyes in the face of the war in the nineties in a very unfortunate way. But I met my wife after I became blind. She inherited blindness from birth. Mandativu is a wonderful island surrounded by mangroves that has won the tourist attraction. Apart from the fishing profession, the tourism industry can be wonderfully promoted here; the population is not very high. The annual festival of ‘Kuruchchadathivu’ or the very old church of Saint Anthony Munindraya on Kurukuda Island which is seen from the Pannai Causeway which is next to this island before going to Kites Island, was held this year with the participation of the Gurunagar fishing community.
Even the smallest islands around the island were beautifully decorated with flags. This small island, which used to disappear from the view path with the sun setting in the western sky, was illuminated by electric light. For this festival, which is held only for a few days a year, a generator and a tractor are loaded and parked at the corner of the causeway and provide electricity for the service of the Catholic Church in the middle of the lagoon. This is the reality. This is the discourse of exploration beyond travel….’
‘When I spoke to the gentleman on the tractor, he said that he needs to provide electricity to the church for an hour with three liters of diesel…’
Looking far from the causeway, you can see the pilgrims who have gone on pilgrimage like the smallest ants. As soon as the service is over, one or two come across the knee-deep lagoon and board the fishing boats. I am presenting this poem which was translated by Mr. Ibnu Asumat and translated into Sinhala by Aliyal, a Tamil poet named ‘Ape Kahid’.
‘Muhudu weralawalhi
kese kese walala ethdo
apen rahase…
agili iriwalin manana lada eewada
kakule mapatagillen podikar walalu eewada
kakul themana witadi
padaya samaga lissa giya eewada
weli kotuwe men nagi sitiya eewada
harana lada wala thula watunu eewada men
kopamana rahas walala aththemu
muhuduweralawala
kopamanak diyakara aththemuda
mema muhudu penawala….
During the tour of the Gulf of Mannar, the Mannar islands that join hands with India, the Mannar fort that protected Mannar, the Doric brick palace, Adam’s bridge that built Rama to Lankapura, fishermen across the river, baobab trees where you can tie hands, Malvatu Oya Gate, Thiruketishwaram near Mathota, Mr. Sarath Jagoda, a lyricist who lived in Mannar, who once had a conversation with me while visiting Madupalliya, which is surrounded by pearls and the fire blowing in the north wind from Mannar port, exchanged his bicycle in this way, narrating the massacre of Mother Madu as well as the Easter attack during the war conflicts that happened in the past. Still no efforts have been made to sow the seed of reconciliation or fertilize the soil and plant it.
During the tour of the Gulf of Mannar, the Mannar islands that join hands with India, the Mannar fort that protected Mannar, the Doric brick palace, Adam’s bridge that built Rama to Lankapura, fishermen across the river, baobab trees where you can tie hands, Malvatu Oya Gate, Thiruketishwaram near Mathota, Mr. Sarath Jagoda, a lyricist who lived in Mannar, who once had a conversation with me while visiting Madupalliya, which is surrounded by pearls and the fire blowing in the north wind from Mannar port, exchanged his bicycle in this way, narrating the massacre of Mother Madu as well as the Easter attack during the war conflicts that happened in the past. Still no efforts have been made to sow the seed of reconciliation or fertilize the soil and plant it.
japamale
madumaniyane
kaluwarawunu
udumaguledi
nathiuna kinthaya evanna
wedi wadila
pana adina
parawi kurullan athewath
madu magulama
kaluwara kala
judaslata
orasan pada
kiyadenna…
willpathuwe
adunn divi hinawa biyakarui
thal adi maha maga badi
thal pavura hari usai
nachchaduwe
diyawara kada
rajarata wee nam
aaruwil malwathu oya
nakam bomai
madupalliye
api kiwwe
ekama orasamai
thal ala thal hakuru
kawa
biya saka nathiwa
mee okkama apata dunne
me maha polawai
me serama uduragathhe
me uddayamaya
This song is based on Christ’s personality. The rulers could not stand Jesus’ nonviolence at the time and imprisoned him. Barabas, a criminal, is also incarcerated. The Judases asked Herod for permission to kill Jesus, but Herod ignored them.
The Jews then went to the governor, Pilate, and asked for an order to kill Jesus, but they failed at first. As a result, Barabbas and Jesus were brought before the public and asked who should be executed.
There, the people of Herod and Pilate who were stationed among the public demanded that Jesus be killed instead of the criminal named Barabbas. By effectively proclaiming it as a demand of the entire country, Jesus was brutally executed. This occurrence is a synthesis of the Easter tragedy that occurred in this country.
A similar tragedy occurred in Libya.
During my travels, I’ve met a lot of interesting people. I made a number of points. All of this taught me a wonderful lesson.
If that is the case, those friends who have followed me down this path will come to enjoy the pleasure….
Viduni Basnayake