The Journey Begins

So I will now tell the story of how I got the idea to travel around the island. Once I lived in a place called Peliyagoda, which is a suburb of the capital Colombo. The trouble with Peliyagoda was this – despite being the closest suburb of Colombo, it was not very developed. Many other suburbs like Wattala or Kiribathgoda had much better buildings and facilities. The biggest landmark there seemed to be the police station, which I think says a lot. And before the police station, its most famous landmark was an enormous rubbish dumb that could be seen from miles away, which I think says even more.

However, it was an exciting place for me because the great Kelani River flowed through it, and I wanted to paint it. I am only an amateur artist, but I have a great passion for painting and drawing. But unlike most artists who draw rivers, I wanted to draw it at night. And so, many years ago, I did one of the weirdest things I have ever done; I decided to stay in the garden at night and paint till morning. The night was infinitely dark and strange; it seemed that everyone had gone to bed and switched off all the lights. The road was deserted except for a lone cow which seemed half asleep. A blue-green firefly, very rare for this part of Sri Lanka, flew and disappeared behind a leaf. Flowers that bloom at night are usually white, and most have a fragrance.

In the foreground, I could see the great river flowing. It moved slowly in the night like destiny itself. It was silent, mysterious, and fatal. Above the river shone many strange stars. There was a particularly bright reddish star that didn't twinkle. Could it be Mars, the one they called the red planet? Unfortunately, I could not be certain. Then there was another bright star which, for some reason, I felt was Venus. Unfortunately, my knowledge of astronomy, like so much else, was incomplete. All these thoughts made me so tired that I sat down in the garden and couldn't remember anything after that except the ground felt hard on my head, an annoying cricket made an annoying noise, the smell of grass and marigold flowers and once I imagined that the cow was in the garden. The hoot of an alarm made me jump, and for a moment, I was horrified to find that I was not in bed but outside at night. I went to the gate to see what made that noise but could not locate it. Then I looked up, God how things had changed. Now it was around two in the morning, and the stars were brighter than ever. I couldn't see the Great Bear, the only constellation I knew apart from Orion, but I could see a group of prominent stars that curled down and formed what looked exactly like a tail. I wondered whether this was the Scorpio Constellation, and I still do. I looked down again, and the river was still flowing endlessly, and at that moment, I felt a great energy come over me, and I decided to explore my country even if it was the last thing I did.

The Jouney South

  

The road south from Colombo can be a bit confusing, somehow even if you scan the map for a long time it doesn’t register. From Colombo to Moratuwa is only 19 Km. From there you expect Kalutara to come quickly but it takes longer than you think for it is about 26 Km further south. In Kalutara is the famous Buddhist temple. You expect Beruwela with its beautiful seascape to be very far from here but it comes surprisingly quickly being just 14 Km south. By this time the landscape has a very rural seaside feel. Happily, Bentota with its beautiful beaches, river, and hotels is just 8 Km South. Then here the distances seem to widen. From Bentota to Ambalangoda is 24 Km, somehow it seems longer than that. Hikkaduwa, a tourist destination known for coral reefs and sea turtles is 15 Km further south. By this time even without noticing we have come 114 Km from Colombo. Till Hikkaduwa, the coast that runs more or less south seems to curve a little more prominently till it reaches the Historic fort city of Galle. The coast continues to curve until it reaches the southernmost city in Sri Lanka – Matara. Then it moves upward reaching Tangalle and Hambantota, Kirinda, Kumana, Okanda and then almost vertically up to Potuvil, Tirrukkovil and Batticaloa. Very rarely if ever have I heard some of these place names in the news so I tried to find out. Kumana is a bird sanctuary, Okanda is a small hamlet on the eastern coast of Sri Lanka, within the Ampara district.

In Sri Lanka most of the main cities and towns in the coastal region are quite well known, some parts of the central highlands are well travelled, Anradhapura and Pollonaruwa being historical cities are well known, but some Kilometers inland from the coast there are some obscure areas that hardly come to mind, except for the people who live there. I wondered if we travelled perpendicular to the coast in the above route I mentioned from Colombo to Batticaloa what obscure areas will we discover. And then I looked at the map, what a fool I had been, for this is exactly where they have built the new southern expressway. Travelling in the southern expressway you find that the landscape is mostly fields and jungles with very few buildings.

Somewhere between Beruwela and Hikkaduwa I had an incredible experience, a kind of perfect moment that comes very rarely in life. I got down from the bus shocked by the color of the sea. It was around midday, and the sun shone brightly overhead. The color of the sea was a shockingly bright turquoise blue and it was glistening and I was alone in an enormous beach. A song started playing on my mind: We’ll sing in the sunshine….We’ll laugh every day…..We’ll sing in the sunshine ……then I’ll be on my way. Some HAPPY sounding songs are actually depressing….and some sad sounding songs are Happy…..But this was a Happy sounding Happy song at least for me despite its silly rhyming lyrics. 

There are some places with beautiful scenery that ought to make you happy…but make you sad….similarly there are some really ugly landscapes that fill you with joy…..Well, this was a Happy-looking place that actually made you happy. I walked on the beach, I climbed the rocks, it was for me the most perfect spot on earth. After about an hour it was time to be on my way. I wondered whether if I came another day at the exact same time I would find the sea the same glistening turquoise blue and the beach deserted. I came again a few times but could not locate the beach again. As the actor, Leonard Nimoy (Mr. Spock in Star Trek) said in his final message “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.” 

 

LANA - Short Story by me

 

I am RRR, living in the land of LANA, where my father lived and before that his father, and though some men deny that we belong here, my link with this land both in time and space is infinite, for this is what the ocean told me and the ocean is older than any man or anything else living or dead.

But once I foolishly contemplated this problem, day after day and night after night I fell to thinking........ until one night the phosphorescent ocean beckoned me to the shore and spoke to me in a language I seemed to know well......... I saw glimpses of a different time and a different place.......I saw the land of unattained hopes where the dreams of men appeared once and disappeared never to be seen again........... The ocean seemed to have sensed my sadness for it took me to the land of  AMERAA…... where men were so clever that I foresaw great progress.....they I felt would build a city whose peaks would touch the moon..and it did.....but then when I returned in time....... half a century later all I saw was an divided, miserable land.......... for the men though very clever were selfish and jealous of their fellow beings...... they had suppressed each other............

Although my ancestors had lived in LANA, my own land,  I no longer felt like living here for I longed for the lands beyond where the sun shone differently, and men thought differently. I heard from men who sailed the seven seas of a land to the west of calm beaches and great cities so high that men never set sight upon their peaks.

Day after day and night after night I dreamed and the ocean which was silent until then spoke again in the kind language that I seemed to know well, of a land to the west called the land of NOR where the sun shone so gently that there were four wonderful seasons, all of them colder than the coldest days in LANA, where men were so orderly that they needed no laws. As I gazed under a yellow moon the ocean parted and gave me glimpses of this land of order, that needed no laws for the men were sane, perhaps too sane for I thought I saw a land of despair, a land where boredom prevailed, a frightful emptiness, a secret death wish, but before I could say anything the ocean took me to another land. 

This was the great land of CANA where men from my land fled and sought refuge in an earlier, darker time, but could never return home again. This then I decided was the land of hope, where a better life could be sought a land of wealth where men achieved what they desired. But it was a dreary, cold land, where the sun barely shone, and men worked continuously like machines. Happiness here could only be found in money for there was nothing else. The trees here looked monotonously dull, much like the sun.

The sea seemed to have sensed the blow this dealt to my illusions for it took me to a land where the sun shone hot. This was a land of ARAA a land of unimagined wealth, of great sunny cities, where the land was blessed with gold that was black, and great men walked about proudly in robes. But then I saw a glimpse of a man's hand being severed for stealing a loaf of bread, while the great men pretended to lead pious lives. Then I saw a women being stoned to death and I knew it was a land I will never visit.

Then the ocean showed me a materially less fortunate land, for it had been ruined by its own rulers. But it was also a land where the sun shone brighter when it shone and it rained harder when it rained, and anything planted on the ground would flourish. The people though sad now were once happy, perhaps they will be happy again, and I recognized it as my own land of LANA.  This was a land where Time was on my side or at least so I hoped, and I decided never to leave it again.

Codwin - Short story by me

 

As the bus moved slowly over the Kelani bridge, silent, mysterious and fatal the river moved below. Inside sat Codwin, who had to take this route everyday to and from work. It was hot inside and he wondered dully whether this was due to global warming, or because the monsoon rains had been delayed, or was there some other factor at play. Then he wondered whether there really was something called global warming for there were some scientists who said it was all rubbish. How does it all work he wondered, this whole global warming thing, the traffic congestion, the heat and everything else. Just then a gecko made a hideous chik chak chik cry.

Codwin knew well that geckos are found only in households so how did this one get into the bus?. Maybe it should be made the national animal instead of the stupid jungle fowl. The heat was getting to him and he was thinking rubbish, if the bus moved faster this would create a kind of “artificial wind” which would cool things down. Self consciously he tried to read the newspaper he bought, but then he gave it up in despair.

In another half an hour when they were around Wattala the sun would set over the sea to the west and with it his mood. It was not going well for Codwin, but in a way he really liked the climate. He knew that despite the oppressive heat the weather here was good. The sun shone a little brighter and when it rained it rained a lot harder. He would have hated to have been born in a country where the sun was dull and all the trees looked like Christmas trees or a country where the sun was hot and there were no trees at all. And then he realized he liked his country........... we all have to be the way we are made…..thought he…..and we all have to be where we are made……….and for him it was this Island.

The Doomsday Machine - Short Story by me

 

 

When I heard the news that my grandfather was agitated, I rushed to see him. Night had fallen, and I had to walk along the beach for about 2 Km to reach his home. Why one of the greatest scientists on the Island had to live in this remote corner of the world had always been a mystery to me. He once said that bright city lights interfered with his observation of the stars. Here near the equator in Trincomalee, Sri Lanka, in a remote fishing village north of town, he carried out his work undisturbed.

As a young man, he had made great discoveries in physics. But it was as an inventor that he excelled. Although his inventions laid the basis for great technological advances in the 21st century, he was never interested in making money, something I could never understand. He scorned wealth and worldly honors. While other men made money from his inventions, he dedicated himself exclusively to scientific research.

But lately, he had become strange. I think it all went wrong for him when he ventured into fields of science that he should best have left alone at his age. As a young man, he could have easily solved the great mysteries of the Universe, but now he was very old. Senility (The decline of memory and other mental functions associated with old age) really is a sad thing.

The first thing he said as I entered was, "I am on the verge of a discovery that will transform the universe."You mean transform the way we view the Universe," said I. "No, literally transform the Universe," said he. "Gravity affects Time; that part is certain, but what is the true nature of Time? That's the question I want answered. If you go endlessly in a straight line, you will end up in the same place you began, but how much Time would it take.......for example, if you go at an almost infinite speed. Answer this question, and you would have answered how big the Universe is, and more importantly, how it was created. "You mean how the Universe was formed," said I. " No created," said he. A great fear verging on panic had come over me; clearly, he was talking rubbish, and it had a religious element too, which was all the more worrying. But before I could say anything, he went on........

"I have built a machine Kelvin that will take an object to the end of the universe in an instant, at which point it will be in the same place it began; by using it, I want to find out how the universe was created" I panicked, I feared for his sanity. It was obvious he had suffered from what some people call a breakdown, perhaps related to overwork and old age. The best thing I could do was run back to Trincomalee town and try to find a doctor fast. I mumbled something and turned to go, but he interrupted me. "One other thing, Kelvin, there is a slight chance that my experiment could go wrong, which would, of course, mean the end of the Universe. To start the experiment, I must press the switch, do you think I should press the switch or maybe destroy the machine." He brought the most strange-looking black box, perhaps a little bigger than one cubic foot, on which was written, Anti-matter. I didn't know what to say, and I didn't say anything. I walked out, resolving to find a doctor fast.

When I reached the beach, it was midnight. It was a strange night, and the ceaseless waves of the Indian Ocean broke with a thud on the sand to my left. To my right was a thick jungle with noisy insects. I remembered what my grandfather had said many years ago "I want to see the stars shine over the sea." Then I got a strange feeling that it was getting darker, so I looked up and there over the Indian Ocean one by one the last of the Stars were sputtering out....................

I Need the Stars to Sail Back Home - Poem by me

Here along the reef lies a sunken treasure

Of a ship that sailed but did not measure

I seek to find it soon

Under eloquent stars and moon

I use starlight to navigate the seas

It will be in moonlight the treasure will be freed

Of foolish men who did not see

That numbers will ruin their destiny

I reach the treasure sailing East

But the stars disappear with my endless needs

I throw the treasure overboard

I need the stars to sail back home

The stars guide me to reach my isle

I walk inland a hundred miles

I reach a jungle of a billion trees

But I came here for just one tree

Here in this jungle grows a hidden tree

That all the eyes in the world cannot see

I seek to find it soon

Before they seal my doom

What is gold but a hideous thing

That kills more men than a ruthless king

But each atom in this wondrous tree

Has magic in it that can cure all ills

James Fenimore Cooper

James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851), was a United States author. He is Chiefly remembered for his Leatherstocking series of novels about Indians and frontiersmen, but he also wrote tales of the sea and other books. Cooper was the first American author to win wide popularity in Europe. He did more than any other writer to create the theme of the crafty but noble Redskin pitted against the equally resourceful woodsman.

Mark Twain and others ridiculed Cooper for his impossibly wooden heroines, his unreal dialogue and plots involving miraculous escapes from dangerous situations. Much of the criticism is justified, but Coopers skill in weaving an exciting tale and picturing a romantic woodland background has helped his books remain popular.

Cooper was born in Burlington, New Jersey, the second youngest in a Quaker family of 12. When he was one year old, the family moved to the shore of the Otsego Lake in western New York. There his father founded the village of Cooperstown. Young Cooper soon became acquainted with the Indians and the forests of the region. He entered Yale College at 13, but was dismissed in his third year for playing a prank. He went to sea as a common sailor in 1806, and in 1808 he received a commission as midshipman in the navy.

His dissatisfaction with an English novel provoked him to say he could write a better one. Precaution (1820), an imitative society novel, was the result of his wife’s demand for proof. It was unsuccessful. In 1821 Cooper published The Spy at his own expense. This romance of the American Revolution made him famous on both sides of the Atlantic and caused him to be called the equal of Sir Walter Scott as a historical novelist.

I wrote this poem. What could this poem be about ?

  

As I walk along this lonely beach

I hear the echo of a jungle tree

Or is it a parrot that tried to scream

Or the unknown shadows of a long dead beach

Was there a jungle to the left of me

Or just dead tree trunks that tried to flee

The sun is dimmer than it used to be

When and where can I now be

Is this the Earth I left behind

In the year 2029

There is nothing here for me to find

How could fate be so unkind

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Note: The possible title of this poem could be: The Encounter with the man made environmental disaster upon Astronaut Musk's return to Earth.

The Man with the Bad Idea- Short Story by me

 

Many years ago, I worked as the chief engineer for one of Sri Lanka's biggest hydropower projects. It was in the Hill Country, the picturesque central mountainous area, where tea is grown so abundantly that almost all the mountains are entirely covered in perfectly hand plucked tea bushes, making it look more like a fairytale painting than an actual mountain. I was one of the “foreign experts” who would make Sri Lanka's ambition of becoming self sufficient in energy a reality. Life here was good with it’s slow pace and laid back attitude and a cup of Sri Lankan tea is just what you need in the cool Hill Country. 

But one day a strange man approached me, he was one of the minor employees, who I sometimes suspected had something a little wrong with his head. He was not educated but had a strange grand way of talking. A man with big ideas, R wasn’t educated but considered himself a practical man and “a man of the world.” It was obvious that the Hydropower project had caught R's imagination. But I was surprised when he came up to me and said that he had an idea which would make him rich, but he wanted to try it in his village. He said he wanted to use the movement of the sea waves, to pump water to a nearby cliff. From this cliff would flow water through a pipeline downwards which would be used to turn a Generator, from which he would get electricity for the entire town. At first I could not decide whether he was extremely intelligent or a little too simple minded, but I soon realized that it would never work, for it seemed to go against all the laws of physics, particularly Lord Kelvins First Law of Thermodynamics. But to my utter disbelief he wouldn’t listen, he was convinced that it would work and nothing I said could convince him to give up his idea.

A year or so later I heard he had tried to implement his idea by collecting money from the villagers, had lost a lot of money on it, had been beaten up by the villagers and put in prison; I blamed myself for not having convinced this madman to give up his idea. Many years later I visited  Sri Lanka as a tourist, and was walking in the dusty streets of Colombo with my son; memories of my earlier days on this adventurous island came flooding back, when all of a sudden a Limousine stopped in front of us. The man who got down from it had the appearance of an important politician, but then I realised that it was none other than R. “Don’t tell me you made it on the pumping sea water to the cliff idea” said I. “No” said R in his thick accent “But while I was in prison I improved my idea, and eventually sold it and made a lot of money."  “That’s unbelievable” said I not knowing what else to say. But in a way it wasn’t unbelievable because R had always had ideas, most of them bad, but he had so many bad ideas that one of them turned into a good idea with experience. And that’s more than you could say about most people in this world, they don't have any ideas either good or at least bad.

How the Universe Formed - Short Story

During World War II my grandfather had been stationed as an officer in the then British colony of Ceylon. It would have made a great impression on him for he spoke about it for fifteen years when I was growing up. Great stories of holy mountains, rock fortresses, and ancient kingdoms with the most advanced irrigation systems in the world. For many years I thought he was making most of it up, but it intrigued me. So one day I finally decided to visit the Island to find out if he was telling the truth.

The Airport is about 30 Kilometers from the capital Colombo. Colombo borders the sea and its port is one of the busiest in Asia. In the lower central part of the country, there is a mountainous area where tea is grown so abundantly that it looks more like a picturesque painting than an actual mountain. There really is a holy mountain here called Sri Pada which is said to be the holiest mountain in the world. And the Sigiriya Rock fortress built in the 5th century is one of the marvels of the ancient world. And the great Tank Civilization of ancient Sri Lanka is still being used today to irrigate. I was amazed to find out everything my Grandfather said was true, this really is a great Island. 

But the most interesting aspect of this island is the people. Although I do not have a degree in psychology I have a strange habit of analyzing the people in every country I go to, so I would do the same here. Sri Lankans in general are very friendly and very intelligent, but for an intelligent people they do not think deeply about some things that trouble at least a small minority in some other counties, like for example: how was the universe created? Are there things smaller than atoms? Are we related to monkeys? This kind of thinking is absent even among highly educated scientists who are qualified to answer these questions. But even here there is an extremely small minority of people who think of such things, but unfortunately, they are so rare that you could spend an entire lifetime without meeting one.

But I did meet such a person on the island and he was the clerk in the hotel. “Aren’t you Carl Saban the famous American astronomer, and the world authority on supernovas?” said he. “Yes,” said I a little surprised that someone here knew me. “I’ve been reading the articles you write, they are interesting and I have used your observations to verify my theories, theories that I think solve all the problems of the universe, including how it was created, and I have written it down in this book, it would only take a few minutes to read, can you tell me whether it is correct,” said he. He took out of his pocket a much-crumbled book that looked like it had been slept on. For a moment I could not decide whether he was just joking or completely mad, but he thrust the book at me so fervently that I accepted it. 

I present below just the first two pages of his book, exactly as he wrote it without any modification by me:

Everything is made up of atoms, but atoms themselves are made up of even smaller particles. Even though our senses fool us we and everything around us are energy fields. The movement of these tiny energy particles moves electrons, atoms, aero-planes, stars, galaxies and everything else in the universe. These tiny particles and their ability to move are the only reality in the universe and other things such as Time or Space are not real and are how the mind perceives the movement of these particles. 

According to this theory, there is nothing called space, three-dimensional or otherwise, for when these particles move, as they always do it creates this illusion in our senses. There is nothing to fill, for there is nothing else. Similarly, there is no dimension called Time, this is what the mind perceives when these particles move, but it isn't real, for there isn't anything separate called Time. If there is nothing called Time then the universe could not have been created at a particular point in time in the past, this solves the mystery of creation. These particles would have always been and will always be.

So how does this explain Singularity, or what is popularly known as the Big Bang? If matter were to lose its ability to move, it would converge to a point infinitely small, but soon the deep tendency to move would lead it to expand outward, which would eventually form Stars, planets, Galaxies and everything else that is in the Universe. How does this explain Gravitation? It has been found that when a sub-atomic particle was moved another particle that was seven miles away moved in exactly the same way, and it has been estimated that however far these particles are separated they would move exactly in the same way. This is strange for nothing moves faster than the speed of Light. This twin movement could be used to explain Gravitation, for if a particle were to move, its twin particle would move towards it.

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The rest of the book contains calculations to prove this theory, which I can’t fully understand, but which seem profound all the same. Can somebody tell me by reading this book whether this young man from Sri Lanka is, in fact a great scientist or a little wrong in the head?

Walter Scott

  

Sir Walter Scott, (1771-1832), was a Scottish novelist, poet, historian and critic. He was for many years one of the most widely read authors in Europe and America. His stirring tales of adventure brought to life for millions of readers the history of Scotland and England from the 12th through the 18th century. “The Lady of the Lake” (1810), a story of the Scottish Highlands in the 16th century, was the most popular of Scott’s narrative poems, and has been the most often reprinted. Critics consider “The Heart of Midlothian (1818), a novel set in 18th century Scotland and England, the best of all Scott’s works.

Scott’s popularity rested largely upon his descriptions of scenes and manners unfamiliar to his readers, and upon lively action and romantic episodes. He did not plot carefully, and wrote hastily and without revising. As a result, his novels and narrative poems lack unity and forcefulness. Most of his heroes and heroines are unrealistic, and their speech is stilted and trite. Except for some of the short lyrics incorporated in his narrative poems, his verse is second rate.

Scott’s importance is based on several valuable contributions to literary development. He created the historical novel and gave prestige to the novel in general. Among writers he influenced were Robert Louis Stevenson, Charles Dickens, William Thackeray, Dumas the Elder, Leo Tolstoy, Alexander Pushkin, and James Fenimore Cooper. Scott was the first novelist to present people of the lower classes as real human beings rather than as comic or sentimentally idealized figures. He was also the first novelist to use regional dialects in a serious instead of a mocking manner.