My Heavy Suitcase
While I write this blog post I couldn’t help but beam as I reminisced my stay at Sri Lanka. Sri Lanka is of course beautiful for its landscape, history, culture, and colors but it is beautiful mostly because of the benevolent citizens of Sri Lanka. God! Do they go out of their way to help the tourists feel at home. I have never encountered such kindness and patience from such large scale of strangers. And this made me feel guilty — for I can’t find same amount of patience within me. This surely did embarrass me nonetheless it also inspired me to do better. Sri Lanka thought me that Kindness, compassion and patience should not to be practiced instead they are supposed to be way of life.
I have many anecdotes to share on acts of kindness that we encountered, and how beautiful of a landscape Sri Lanka is but this also worries me because I feel I am not competent enough to make justice to the experience nevertheless I must try my best as such kindness and beauty deserve to be sung. Because these days it feels like darkness is seeping into every corner of the world and the brilliance of kindness and inspiring experiences can wade it away for few moments. And those moments are enough to seal those cracks.
My Heavy Suitcase
I landed in Colombo on the 5th of February around 11:30 a.m., with the rest of the day ahead of me until my friend joined from Chennai. I could either wait for her to arrive or explore the city solo — I chose the latter. I was skeptical of my decision, though, because I had never travelled alone before. My concern for safety kept holding my nose and I could hardly breath. Yet I carried on with my decision, and I have never been prouder of myself — though there were times when I felt foolish, and I shall tell you why.
We hadn’t booked a stay in Colombo for the night, as we planned to go to Kandy that evening. So, I had to drag my luggage around the city. I carried a heavy suitcase and a backpack. Hungry, the first thing I decided to do was visit Independence Square, as the Arcade had eateries and pay-and-use bathrooms to freshen up. Once I was done, I looked around, clicked a few selfies, and then booked a tuk-tuk to Gangaramaya Temple — a Buddhist temple I had always wanted to visit.
However, because of temple festivities, reaching there was difficult as several roads were blocked. I asked the tuk-tuk driver to drop me at Seema Malaka Temple, situated on Beira Lake, which was walkable from Gangaramaya. Since the lake temple had its own charm and was already on my list, I thought of visiting it first.
When I entered the temple premises with my heavy suitcase, the guards stopped me. Suitcases were not allowed inside and had to be left at the counter. I hesitated, because there were no lockers — just a counter on the pathway where anyone could roll my suitcase away. Noticing my hesitation, one guard asked, “Is there a bomb in this?”
I was baffled by the question and hurried to reply, “Of course not, there are just clothes.” I was even about to open my suitcase to prove it. But before I could explain further, he continued-
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“You must know, sister, that we can’t let anyone pick your bag because it is not only about our temple security guards’ reputation but also about our state’s security. What if you were carrying a bomb and this was your plan all along? We wouldn’t dare to open your bag or let it be stolen. So please do not worry. The bag is safe with us. You can visit both temples and even go around the city, but be back by 8 p.m. to collect it, as we close after that. And we will not even charge you for looking after your luggage.” He winked as he said this.
At this point, you may call me foolish, but his words convinced me to leave my luggage there. More than that, I wanted to prove that I was no harm to the state — that I was just an innocent traveller. I told myself that if the bag went missing, all I would lose were clothes, undergarments, a pair of boots, some makeup, skincare products, and hair accessories. Yes, quite a lot of things, but not essential for survival. My valuables were in my backpack, which was allowed inside. On the other hand, not visiting the temple would be a great loss, because I didn’t know when I would return to this country. So, I decided to let my suitcase sit there until my little tour was over.
When I told the guards I had decided to leave it, they laughed at me as one would at a child. I couldn’t tell whether they were mocking me for being an easy target or amused that I had finally come to my senses. Either way, I left it there. Once I was done looking around the lake temple, I headed to Gangaramaya.
At the entrance, there were two queues. I stood in the left one because it was moving faster. While waiting, one of the guards asked me, “Where are you from?” I said, “India.” For a moment, he looked confused and turned to another staff member to clarify if I belonged in that queue. I understood their conversation, as I know a bit of Tamil. The confusion was whether to consider me a foreigner or a local.
Apparently, the queue I had joined was for locals, while the other was for foreigners. When I realized this, I hurried to the foreign queue, but the guards were still unsure whether to let me in. Then one of their heads came and instructed them “She holds an Indian passport, hence she is an Indian citizen. India is a different country, therefore she must be let into the foreign queue.”
Everyone giggled and laughed during this conversation, while I stood there confused about my own citizenship. The whole situation felt as if my neighbours were debating whether to consider me family or a friend. The guard who had stopped me looked embarrassed while letting me into the foreign queue. He apologized for the confusion and explained, “I don’t see Indians as people from another country — hence the confusion.” At that moment, it felt like the guard was introducing me to Sri Lanka, saying “Meet my neighbour’s kid; she is no less than family.”
To my surprise, Gangaramaya Temple was vast. I had expected a small temple with a corner stacked with Buddha statues — like the image I had seen on Google — and another corner with the temple deity. But when I encountered the stacked Buddha statues, I realized it was more than symmetry. It gave me a sense of assurance, as if the Blessed One was present in all forms to melt away my doubts about following this spiritual path. I stood there overwhelmed, yet at ease. My eyes teared up at the duality I felt.
I pulled myself away and walked to the Bodhi tree, not wanting people to see me crying. Sitting under the holy tree, the chanting of monks and devotees grounded me, it brought me to stillness almost immediately. I was at ease, almost in a meditative state, even amidst the festive bustle. My suitcase — the one I had left at a stranger’s mercy — completely slipped from my mind. Such was the spell of the place.
At that moment, I was surely a fool, but I was at peace — which, for an overthinker like me, is the rarest of moments. And I got to have many such moments in Sri Lanka.
Disclaimer: I know I might have acted foolish by trusting my luggage with starngers but they were guards as well. I might sing about Sri Lankan Kindness but that was because I made sure, I took all kinds of safety measures and did not believe people blindly. Everyone where accountable as they were either staff of certain place or registered drivers. So please do not trust anyone blindly.
