To seek and cherish the land that isn't mine but ours

 

 

It’s a sociological and political term, this thing called ‘post-independence.’ There are books with titles that include the term. It is uttered often by politicians and of course academics when they talk about all things under the sun and on this earth over and under the feet of us Sri Lankans that belong to all and none (or some).

Mahagama Sekera owned this island, this nation. He owned it because he never claimed it. And because he owned it, he could bequeath it to anyone he liked. He picked everyone:

vaesi vasinaa ahasa api
muthu bandinaa muhuda api
mini dilenaa polova api
siri lankaa ratama api
 
Translatable thus:
We are the sky that rains
We are the ocean that crafts pearls
We are the earth that of glittering gems
We (make) the entire country that is Sri Lanka

I did not think of Sekera or this particular understanding of our country. Kasun De Silva did. In an Independence Day message posted on Facebook, along with one of his many photographs that capture a landscape and a moment in ways that takes my breath away (and probably that of many others as well), Kasun offered the following:

‘Happy Independence Day to Sri Lanka, whose real values are given freely to those who seek and cherish..!’

I like the insertion of the word ‘real’ here. It implies there are values that are not real. Fake. What they are and what’s ‘real’ is of course subjective, but what Kasun may be saying is that those that speak of history, living heritage and lived lives that are wholesome constitute that which is wholesome, endearing and gives pride and meaning to us all.

Where are they? They exist not upon surfaces to be scooped up callously, not in places easily accessed. They are not for casual collection. They are obtained, Kasun says, only by seeking. Therefore they are hidden or disguised. This doesn’t mean they are in remote places, off-grid and enchanting.

Yes, you will see value in such places. Flip through Kasun’s photo albums and you will understand what I mean. You could also just close your eyes, place a finger on the map of Sri Lanka and just go there. With eyes and heart open of course.

Sekera didn’t tell us how to find that which is sought, but he described people and places where truth might reside in his final and according to some yet-incomplete (as in draft-stage) lengthy poetic narrative, Prabuddha.

In the manner of a bodhisatva requesting ‘niyatha vivarana’ or conclusive blessing, Prabuddha speaks to the Buddha Siddhartha Gautama:

And therefore, Siddhartha!
And therefore grant me permission of finality
bless me in the manner of the Buddhas who came before
blessed the Buddhas to be,
now, this moment. 
 
At this very table,
upon this very chair
among these papers,
in a paddy field that knows
tilling, sowing and reaping,
among slogans, strikes and 
the teeth of a factory wheel,
in a crowded train
carrying men and women 
in their thousands
to work and back,
to secure the ultimate truth
Enlightenment,
not alone, no
but with those millions
to know together
to reach collectively
the truth
Enlightenment!

Again, we have the notion of the collective. The all-of-us. The all-of-us in all places high and low, but particularly in the glossed over and forgotten places where political economy burns without fire, obtains organs surreptitiously, privileges profit over labour, insults and humiliates, but can never steal or murder resolve.

That which this country is, that which we are, that which we belong to and own, needs to be sought and obtained. This is a precondition for cherishing.

Can we define it? I don’t think so. The sacred is a secret jealously guarded. We are offered signs so we may read, extrapolate and obtain ‘the real.’ It might require us to move along or among the five aggregates, the pancakkhandha, namely rupa (form/body), vedana (sensation/feeling), sanna (perception/recognition), sankhara (mental formations/volition) and vinnana (consciousness). The short hand would be ‘with eyes open,’ ready to perceive, ready to dive through appearances and dwell in those less-seen and less-talked-of things in discourses pertaining to independence, pre-independence and post-independence.

I am sitting at a table at home. From here, I can see a cloudless sky. There are birds I can hear and a few I can see. Flowers amid layers of differently hued greens. Sunlight that has made peace with canopies and comes to rest in bits and pieces on grass and leaves, flower pots and window panes. I haven’t seen pearls in the seas I have visited. My earths have not yielded precious stones. And yet, I have known rain and other things that are precious albeit intangible, in places like those Kasun captures and shares and places we both have visited separately.

I seek. I do cherish the truths and values I have in my frailty discerned. There’s so much more to find. So much more seeking to be done. They are free, and that's a blessing. Perhaps I will cherish this land that is not mine but ours even more deeply in the days to come, the years I have left.

Malinda Seneviratne is a freelance writer. malindadocs@gmail.com