He walked on with faith in his heart and my sandals under his arm

Patrick Harrigan’s ‘With a Brave Heart and Bhakthi’, article in the Plus of July 22 on the ardent devotees by the hundreds arriving on foot from villages on the East Coast, crossing the Yala National Park to attend the Kataragama Festival reminded me of an enduring personal experience.

Some 35 years ago, I had the good fortune to be on duty in the area known as the Yala National Park just outside the strict natural reserve, on the pilgrim path for devotees coming from the Eastern Province. There they were, all seated peacefully in the umbrella shade of a huge margosa tree. There were greying elders, men and women of middle age, the young and toddlers all seated in a strange silence. What amazed me was the discipline they observed in a serene ambience where not a word arose from the throng.

I could not communicate with them due to my ignorance of their language, nor were they in a mood to interact with me. Together they rose, swinging their bundles on their heads, and on their shoulders and started trekking in single file towards the sylvan shrine.

As one wizened old man passed me, I saw his gnarled bare feet and the prickly thorns he was treading on with nonchalance. The hob-nailed boots I was wearing stoked a heavy feeling of guilt within me.

I took my pair of Bata sandals which could have fitted his splayed feet out of the jeep. I offered them to the old gentleman reverently, with both hands. I thought that he would wear them immediately and plod along pleased at my thoughtful gift. No. He without a word, packed the pair of Bata sandals into his arm pit and pressed on towards Kataragama.

By Upali Gunasekera, Matara