From around the
seventeenth to the eighteenth centuries, members of the British aristocracy
would travel to Southern Europe, and in particular Italy, on what was called
the Grand Tour. The purpose of these tours was multiple, but at the root lay
the belief that the well-rounded gentleman needed to gain familiarity with the
culture of what was considered European antiquity.
While there
seems no particular concern among the nabobs of the subcontinent to transform
themselves into well-rounded gentleman, should a Grand Tour be contemplated for
denizens of the sub-continent, then Sri Lanka must definitely be listed as a
must-do on this subcontinental tour. Travelling to Sri Lanka, engaging with its
past, especially, but not only, its medieval and ancient past gives one a
completely different perspective, not only on South Asia, but Asia as well.
Situated at one end of this continental agglomeration, Sri Lanka affords one a
vista of two rims of the Indian Ocean world, and perhaps their rather different
dominant logics. To the left of the emerald isle lies the largely Islamicate
world of the Arabian sea, and to the left, the Buddhic world of the Bay of
Bengal.
But it is not
just for ancient and medieval insights that Indian nationals should travel to
Sri Lanka. On the contrary, it appears that the contemporary period can teach a
good amount to the Indian. One is not ofcourse referring to the appalling
manner in which the Sri Lankan State recently dealt with the LTTE challenge to
its sovereignty, nor to the uncomfortable manner in which the Sinhalese
elements of the Sri Lankan state continue to condescend to the Tamil population
of the country. What the itinerant is referring to is the uncanny way in which
the island seems to reproduce that old British idea of Sri Lanka, of India
without its problems. At the risk of exoticising the country, it appears that
the Lankans have an incredible sense of traffic discipline, providing
indications when they overtake and return to their lane, the manner in which
the horn is rarely used, and the manner in which vehicles actually stop at
zebra-crossings to let pedestrians walk across calmly. One could go on and on
about the radical difference the Lankans’ civic sense represents to the
Indians, but that as Kipling would have said, is another story.
(A version of this post was first published in The Goan on 12 Jan 2013)



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