Have you ever wondered what would it be like to go through the same path you travelled in one of your excursions from the past and hope to see things differently?
It was in Sri Lanka in 2002. It has been one of my favorite countries that I can proudly say, ' I have been there.' Catholics, tamils, hindus, buddhists, muslims and their harmony and friction of cultures, its a bit like India, only smaller but similarly filled with wonders. For one, our guide took us to one of the most rarest coral islands in Asia - Pigeon Island near Trincomalee. Imagine a building sized island bed filled with only white corals, surrounded by deep blue water, trees scattered at distance and one which allows just 30-40 visitors at a time. Never did I see such distinct colors arranged in an order by nature. With my eyes already awed with some of the architectural wonders I saw on the trip I had decided to just lay on tree bark hanging over shallow water and take pictures. I thought I would remember that scence but I frankly just remember a cliched view of a beach and the ocean. May be it wasn't that rare.
On my way back west towards Colombo, our guide asserted that we visit this giant Buddha statue in a random location. We decided to take an off road towards the site mostly because we couldn't face his unparalleled enthusiasm and decided to concede.
There are many many many Buddhist paintings, statues and temples around the world with even more statues. So I proceeded to inquire: What's so different about this one? "Oh its very rare. Its sacred. Not many people know where it is" he replied in a broken accent. "Fair enough" I said excitedly.
At that time peace had returned to this riot ravaged country but we were just starting to get concerned about the really bumpy roads and the heavy downpour rain for the entire duration of our trip. "Oh this is normal" he insisted. We couldn't help but think of ways not to dishearten him but explain our concern.
"Not many visitors know about it." he kept on going.
A heavily unchartered road, with holes, rain puddles, screaming lightning and dwindling daylight all started to set on our spirits as we pummeled through the thick forest. "Sir, we will be there in 10 minutes. Its worth it." he said. "We will see it in a few, in fact", he continued.
As we reached the edge of an uphill road, our car just clamped on sinking mud. As my father's patience started to wear off, I decided to call it off and face our guide. As he dislodged some 2 feet of mud surrounding the car in the heavy rain and faint light, he realized this one wasn't going to work. As he grudgingly reversed the car in this one way, rocky, "katcha" road, we saw a slight glimpse of the statue for about a matter of 2 seconds.
It was gold plated, may be about 30-35 ft tall standing in the middle of nowhere, with no trees to shadow it, no rocks to envelope its majestic shine, but all it possessed was a glowing light in a distance. My father let a "wow- what a statue" out and I panicked. I could just see a golden light and the soaked windows and thick forest didn't offer much of a view! I know it looked like a statue and then I think I caught a glimpse but then I don't remember anything after.
I have always played that scene in my mind several times but I can't remember the rest. I don't know where we were going that evening. I don't know where I was coming from. I know we were headed west. I just remember seeing the light of that statue in a such a dark setting. I can't remember anything else about the car, the drive or the guide. My parents in last several years have mentioned that incident atleast once and they have mentioned our itinerary, our guide's name, and the mishap with the mud-hole. Yet, all I remember is that I missed seeing that statue but I don't know how I do see it again? How do I track that guide down and will he remember us? TO begin with, how safe is it to even visit this violent place now? How do I retrace my steps?
Oh well, the memory of that light is etched in my memory and hence may be I can't see beyond the events on that evening. Its funny how our brain works sometimes, doesn't it?
