To Lanka with love

To Lanka with love ,  kuch kas :

 It was a Jet airways flight that took me to Colombo. The only good part of the journey was the hour and half I spent in the club Lounge of the new Mumbai airport terminal, T2 . Lots of food, plush seating, a slice of history if you do take a stroll outside the lounge area ,all tastefully designed. Lots of shopping options in case you are that type.  I, for one, found a nice cozy corner and excellent reading material and waited. The flight was uneventful. The  devote Muslim gentlemen next to me spent most of his time praying. I realized that it made sense, as soon as the pilot landed his craft in the tarmac in a manner indicating he was not sure if he should land or take off. The hostess, in her practiced accent , announced that we had landed much before the scheduled time. Considering we were 20 minutes behind she probably meant that they got you to your destination in the first place, thank you.

 The Taj hotel cabby decided, as soon as he had me seated, that he had an excellent conservationist in me. Must study myself in the mirror, soon, I noted, to check if the grey hairs are indicating this new capability in me. Anyway, he asked me everything about who I am and from where. My answers in monosyllables did not seem to discourage him. " You first time Colombo" he enquirer. “Fourth" was all he could get. “Business" was another response. His voice sounded a trifle disappointed. Surely those grey hairs do not make me look like a tourist! He persisted. Obviously realizing where this was all leading to, I clarified that I had loads of work and meetings. No time for “sightseeing" whatever that meant. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

 I realized that my service provider had failed to activate data services while roaming. Now, that meant no WA, FB, twitter and probably mails. Not life threatening, in any manner. But my reaction surprised me. I felt sweat on my forehead. My heart decided that it will need a bypass. My ever efficient secretary came on line and advised me, in her calm voice, that it would do a world of good for everyone if I did not check or answer mails etc. So I was going to be cut off from civilization for some time and it looked that no one cared. My hugely diminished ego deflated some more.

 Colombo, under the ex president Rajapaksha, managed to get a substantial facelift. The roads were clean and generally the city became efficient. Many construction projects were taken up. The admin,  given a shakedown. The smartly dressed cops in their dark khakis with white cross belt across the chest blended well with nicely manicured lawns.

My agent, a tall Sinhalese , in his seventies, knew everyone that mattered in this island nation. Widely travelled, he made his riches through a network of contacts across most parts of the world , trading in glass. He has been at it for well over four decades. He growled " Rajapakshe got us over 22% growth in construction". His daughter, who assists him in business, looked unimpressed " if one accounted for the over valuation of these projects, the actual numbers will be much lower" she complained. Currently, since the country is heading for national elections in August, time and tide, as if it were, has come to a standstill. There is the usual in-fighting. Influence of its northern neighbor! The present bunch has ensured that Rajapakshe does not come back by getting a court to bar him. Otherwise, I realized, after being at the receiving end of a quick lecture on contemporary politics in Sri-lanka, he would have ensured that these guys end up giving company to Prabakaran.

 I watched in amusement as Witharna , his daughter and my export manager haggled for hours. After realizing that neither side had any intention to budge, I announced a solution more out of boredom. A lunch of rice, Sambar, fish curry, stew and fruits awaited us in his sprawling but tastefully built home. More work followed. Dinner was at chutney's which made me feel I was in Chennai.

The sun rises very early here. The Taj Samudhra sits on the Galle face. This is a stretch of fine land facing the sea. A splendid promenade ran along the periphery of the sea and across stood the Taj, providing a majestic view of all this. My morning walk, much before the sun rose fully, helped burn out all the extra calories I may have consumed the previous evening. Buddhist monks made the morning serene and being with them was immensely de stressing. While taking in the morning air and watching the sun rise, my thoughts took me to that day, sometime in the early nineties, when I had to beat a hasty retreat from this very place as bombs exploded nearby. The promenade looked at peace with it-self now and so did the people.

My neighbors in the Taj happened to be the Pakistani cricketers. Consistent with the confusing foreign policy of India, I too decided that I will deny an audience and my autograph to them.

The drive into the countryside, to meet up with a successful glass processor , accompanied by a slight drizzle, was like driving through kuttanad in Kerala. Funny, how even the shops, the banana bunch hanging in front, the mundu clad men , the narrow roads and the nail biting moments when the transport bus comes hurtling head-on in front of your car, all replicate life in Kerala. The women, essentially their attire, are the only difference. They resemble the Anglo Indians of Goa. The divide between the predominantly Sinhalese population and the Tamil minority is hardly evident as post war Lanka and its charming men and women get along with life. I was told the the Jafna peninsula is well and truly in that mode too.

 Another day dawned. Less than an hour or so on the treadmill at the Gym and a sumptuous breakfast of bell and spring hoppers ( we mallu's call them appam and iddi appams), stew, kadla curry , mashed potatoes and fruit which the Taj delightfully offers, I did manage to skip lunch and rush through lots of work. A quite dinner and early to bed for a well deserved rest. An early morning return flight made me get up at an unearthly hour and as I bid good bye to this beautiful country, it felt nice to be heading back home.

 And by the way, my secretary had her way. My office probably worked much better without my meddling. As for me, I realized how much more fun it is to get freedom from cyberspace.