Sigiriya: Why this special treatment for some visitors?
Sri Lanka Cricket seems to have bounced back. Not only in terms of the players' form, but also as regards the national side's reputation. That we win or lose at home or abroad is no longer the issue, although the purists and patriots alike would like to have that cake and consume it as well.
More to the point these days is that "our boys" appear to have won (back?) some measure of self-respect. They've won back more than a modicum of the country's affections (if, indeed, they ever lost it!). And they've also earned no small soupçon of their opponents' esteem. So much so that more than the mere outcome of the game hinges on how "the boys batted well, our guys fielded well" and "when the chips were down, our lads put up their hands" and were "willing to be counted" - the stock phrases of past and present skippers of the national side. Indeed.
Business and investor confidence oscillates around Sri Lanka's cricketing prowess and recent performances as a barometer; as do national sovereign ratings, and the stock exchange. Well, perhaps that's stretching the reading public's credulity a tad too far - but you get the point. The lark's on the wing, the snail's on the thorn, God's in His heaven, all's right with the world - as long as everything's bright and shiny in the sunlit garden of our island race's cricketing endeavours. So much so that everyone wants a share of the glory that goes with it. Schoolboys want to be covered in glory like that of their flannelled heroes. Politicos crave a part of the borrowed glory. The cricket-loving public simply delight in basking in the dopamine-induced daydreams that 'our' triumphs, successes, and victories in arenas here and there bring.
The ethos of the powers that be, on the flip side, seems to have suffered corresponding reversals. The conventional wisdom is that they lack both form and substance. Whether we win or lose at home or abroad is also the bone of contention in this arena - and the purists and patriots alike will eat for breakfast anyone who dares to defy the standards of image, independence, and infallibility that we as a nation espouse or say we espouse. Even today, three and a half years after winning a supposedly unwinnable war on the battlefield, there are still many (a majority, even?) who are willing to cut the state some slack in human-rights matters. They will take it lying down when the government asks the rest of us to tighten our belts. And they'd raise nary a cry nor whimper about crime, corruption, and cost-of-living issues. It does not cross the minds of many breadstarved and circus-saturated members of the hoi polloi (Greek for Sinhala kos polos) to ask the authorities to buckle down to winning the war on the economic front. In this, and other related areas of governance, our non-savvy mandarins may have finally ventured a bridge too far. The writing is on the wall, and it is beginning to say the same nasty things about our political messiahs and military saviours to their faces as it once did behind their backs.
To wit, that we want the government to tighten its tamasha-swollen belt in the same breath as we do ours. Eschew cronyism and nepotism at the same time that they decry the West's hypocrisy and partisan politics. And walk the talk they expect us to walk... all the way from austerity measures for all, through practising the road rules that they preach, right down to respecting the rights of the minorities and the marginalised - in the same manner that they expect the world's sole superpower to respect our tiny nation's rights.
Thus, if those who run the country don't want to be hailed for ever in the annals of our land as the cohorts who ultimately ran it into the ground, they'd do well to take a lesson from our cricket team. Don't get me wrong, dears; no one's perfect - not even the knights in blue, who win hearts and steal trophies. But at least they are real, united, honest-to-self, gutsy, daring, dynamic diehards who'd fight to the last drop of their own dying blood, and be open and transparent about their strengths and weaknesses, when the day's game is done. There's no more hype and hoopla about our heroes out there in the middle - and I, for one, am wishing that our once and future national sport (forget ellé, volleyball, or football - those pretenders to the purple) will stay that way… warts and all. As a patriot myself (but please don't expect me to protest against convenient ogres, conjured up by cynical propagandists), I'd like to see Sri Lanka as a whole take a leaf out of our cricketers' book, turn from their sins, and seek to walk again the straight and narrow way. It will mean bidding adieu to arrogant posturing, bureaucratic bungling, and craven nepotism - but it will be worth it in the medium term... because in the long run, we are all dead anyway. Editor's Note: Written after the second final between Sri Lanka and
Australia, but before the final encounter at the Adelaide Oval on
Thursday, March 8.
I recently purchased a packet of Maliban Krisco biscuits at a superstore. On opening the packet a few days later, I found the contents crushed to bits. I took the packet back to the supermarket, but the salespeople said they could do nothing, as it was not their responsibility. Moreover, I did not have the purchase receipt.
I called the customer feedback service number given on the packet. The response came as a pleasant surprise. Within minutes, representatives of Maliban Manufactories called over. Not only did they address my complaint, they replaced the damaged packet with a fresh one. I was most impressed, and grateful.
Maliban customer service could teach a thing or two to the customer service of other commercial enterprises. I had quite a different experience with one of our bakery outlets. Their products are quite up to standard and, as I found out, very hygienically prepared. Naturally, lots of our neighbours patronise this bakery. Then started a rival bakery service that offered home delivery, with three-wheelers coming to the front gate. Not to be outdone, the other bakery started a delivery service, and with much fanfare.
Consumers were pleased, but the service did not last long. Some days the delivery van failed to turn up, and on such days it was usually too late to buy bakery products at other outlets. When I rang up the neighbourhood sales outlet, an irate female voice said she was not responsible for employees taking leave, and slammed the receiver.
I wonder what the Consumer Protection Authority has to say about this. Do they have any control over customer service too?
Thank You, Maliban, for your excellent service.
The December vacation was exciting for my three children. They wanted to explore the ancient capital, Polonnaruwa, and climb to the top of the rock fortress, Sigiriya.
We set out from Giritale at about 9 am and took the jungle route in the hope of arriving at the Rock in one hour. At the turn to Sigiriya, we asked villagers in the area to give us exact directions. The routes have changed since our last visit. There has been much road and infrastructure development in the area, as in most parts of the country.
We were given directions to a “vehicle park for locals”. We were told that “sudhdhanta witharai mahattaya gala pamulata ethulu wenna dhenne” (only foreigners are allowed to take vehicles up to the entry point). Five years ago, when we visited the site, we were able to go straight to the entrance to Sigiriya, without any hindrance.
We drove a few kilometres to the so-called vehicle park. There was a pathway through the jungle. Local tourists have to walk a distance of three kilometres to reach the entrance to Sigiriya. As we had a three-yearold and a five-year-old on our hands, we decided to try our luck at the other entrance.
We drove another several kilometres and found the Sigiriya entrance allocated to foreigners. We told the security guards that we had come by car rather than on foot because we had very young children with us. The security guards flatly refused to let us proceed.
Finally, we decided to take the challenge and go on foot. This would serve as a warmup for the big climb. It was now almost noon. Only my little son grumbled. The rest of the family was very cheerful throughout the jungle trek.
I was glad we took the rough route. Most of the local tourists walking with us were average citizens, from humble backgrounds and rural areas. There were small children, elderly people, and some even walking barefoot. We saw no one who could be described as a “westernized” Colombo type. This confirmed our suspicion that there was another route to the ticket counter, or that there was some “funny business” going on at the “foreigners only” entrance.
On reaching the ticket counter, we saw a number of vehicles that looked like they were carrying VIPS, or affluent types, and these vehicles were allowed through the gateway. The guard at the entrance to the fortress asked to see our IDS. I asked him why, and his reply was that we “looked like foreigners.”
All Sri Lankans – regardless of caste, creed, race, or social class – should be treated fairly and as equals. This is our cultural heritage, and the children of Sri Lanka hold a birthright to these places.
We are proud citizens of Sri Lanka and that is how we want to be recognised, whether we are in Sri Lanka or overseas. Dr. Samanmali Sumanasena
Colombo 7
In February, the majority of employees enjoyed 12 non-working days. And because some holidays fell on a Saturday and Sunday, an additional half-day or full day was granted. There were only 17 days working days in February.
Sri Lanka is a developing country, and we cannot afford to have too many nonworking days. Using its two-thirds majority powers, the government should reduce the number of non-working days.
The weekend should be adequate for those who wish to engage in religious or ceremonial observances.
The Saturday half-day should be abolished and Saturday should be a full holiday for the mercantile sector. Making Saturday a non-working day would save on transport and other costs. The two-day weekend will generate goodwill in the working people and increase output. Of course, the two-day weekend cannot apply to shops, hotels, bakeries, pharmacies, supermarkets and other such private sector institutions.
Amor Patriae