Features

Lovers flee as shortcut through Mount Lavinia cemetery is disturbed by ‘ghosts’

Published

5 months ago

2025/11/30

It was Tuesday in the third week of August 1966, and the joy of my success at the First Examination in Engineering at the University was somewhat marred by the passing of my aunt, Elsie Amerasekera. She succumbed after a long spell at the Maharagama Cancer Hospital.

Elsie was my father’s older sister by 12 years and was yet just in her 50s. She produced 11 healthy children, sufficient for a mixed gender cricket team. Mervyn, the fourth in line, and my favourite cousin from my father’s side of the family could not make it to the funeral as he had migrated to England relatively recently.

It was before the time of funeral parlours, so the practice was to keep the coffin at home to allow visitors from far and near to pay their respects to the deceased, at any time of the day or night. This is a humorous episode of a two lovers’ shortcut through the Mt. Lavinia Cemetery with eyes only for each other ended.

It is not natural for a child to die before a parent. My grandmother, widowed at the age of 30, was 82 years’ old when my aunt died. Achchi She was in remarkably good health attributed, it was remarked, to her unwillingness to take the bus for short distance travel! She gave a new meaning to ‘a short distance’ in 1960s when\ hardly anyone indulged in walking for health reasons unlike nowadays.

The distance from our home in Ratmalana to my aunt’s place in Dehiwela, was five kilometres. Happily, granny’s strong ‘walking genes’ were also inherited by my father, and me in turn; a clear ‘gain of inheritance’ you may say, over more material things like property.

My grandmother, a good-looking woman, did not look her age at all. I can still remember my eyes welling up seeing her sobbing at Elsie’s coffin. “My daughter, why did you have to go before me?”, she asked. For the parent, the sight of an adult offspring in distress is to cast the child back to its early years.

I have been unfortunate to witness, many a time before and after my aunt’s passing to the grief of parents who have lost a child. Ajahn Brahm, the Spiritual Director of the Buddhist Society of Western Australia, gave the following analogy at a pansakula ceremony for a 17-year-old who died in an accident: “Death is like a tree caught in a storm. Young and old leaves and branches are shed with no discrimination. Rejoice in your child’s memories, to lessen the pain”.

Yet, for the parents, the pain of the loss of a child persists. My aunt’s cremation took place two days later at the Mount Lavinia cemetery at about 5.30 pm. Dusk set in shortly after the pyre was lit. The family opted not to use the gas-fired crematorium, so the cremation was in a purpose-built wooden pyre. It was the custom for the lighting of the pyre to be initiated by two male relatives of the deceased.

In this instance, the ‘torch bearers’ were my aunt’s son and me, both named Nihal and both 20 years’ old at the time. We were old enough to be also assigned the task of remaining at the pyre until the cremation was complete. This was to abide by the long- held tradition of not abandoning the mortal remains until it is turned to ash.

After the usual exchange of sympathies, much of the congregation moved to Malwatte Road, close by, to partake in the traditional mala butha, the funeral repast. The time-honoured meal consisted of tomato curry, dhal, dry fish curry and rice. Following custom, the meal was cooked at the home of the deceased by relatives and friends, but in makeshift hearths avoiding the regular kitchen. The food preparation itself commenced when the coffin left the house for cremation. (Currently, the more accepted and less cumbersome practice is for commercial caterers to provide the meal after the funeral service, as was the case at my parents’ funerals in 2002 and 2010 in Sri Lanka and also among the Sri Lankan community in Australia where I now live).

There was a team from the undertakers assigned to keep the pyre burning using kerosene. When the pyre is built, insertion holes are provided at the two ends for the two torch bearers to set fire to it. The periodic dousing of kerosene to maintain the fire was the undertaker’s responsibility. Their contracted services were to finish around nine o’clock. Hence the need for the presence of the two Nihals to tend to the fire in the event that the incineration was not complete by that time.

For those who are not familiar with the Mount Lavinia Cemetery, an explanation of its layout and topography is warranted.

• The Cemetery is located halfway between the Mount Lavinia and Dehiwela junctions, on the seaside of Galle Road. Between the cemetery and the Odeon Cinema is a lane heading West towards the beach.

• There is an eight-foot-high wall along the length of the cemetery, along Galle Road, with the main entrance to the cemetery consisting of a very large iron gate with two flaps. The gate is located mid-way along the 150-metre wall.

• In front of the cemetery entrance and on the opposite side of Galle Road was a bus halt serving passengers heading from Colombo towards Mount Lavinia. The gates of the cemetery were generally closed, but there was a small side entrance to go in after hours, mainly for the benefit of locals to take a short cut to houses along the lane separating the cemetery from the Odeon Cinema. There was a barbed wire fence running the length of the lane. The many trees on the ‘short-cut’ provided shade from the sun, and also, shelter during showers.

• From Galle Road, the cemetery was more or less flat land for about 75 metres towards the beach. This front section of the cemetery was reserved for burial plots for Christians, mainly, with occasional Buddhist tombstones also visible. Generations of families are buried within the same burial plot and, as the available land diminished, cremation of Christians too began from the early 2000’s. Towards the end of the flat ground there is an open-sided pavilion with a tiled roof offering a space to administer the last rites, if required. The pavilion caters for all religions, mainly Buddhist, Christian and Hindu. Muslims had their exclusive burial grounds elsewhere in Dehiwela.

• Beyond the pavilion, the flat terrain continues for about 10 metres terminating in a retaining wall about a metre in height. At the centre is a narrow, inclined passageway through which a coffin can be carried. The land then gives way to a steepish incline for about 50 metres, beyond which is flat land terminating at a brick wall. Beyond this wall is the gas-fired crematorium, which can be accessed only via the side lane next to the Odeon. The cemetery was roughly rectangular, the longer side some 175 metres in length with high walls on all four sides.

• The area beyond the Christian section is mainly reserved for Buddhists. My aunt’s pyre was built about 30 metres inside the wall bordering the crematorium. Further down the lane and beyond the crematorium were houses all the way to the railway line. Beyond the railway line were huts on the beach. The layout was such that a person entering the cemetery could not see anyone who happened to be in the Buddhist section. This is a key to the episode described below.

At the intersection of the wall bordering the lane next to Odeon cinema and the crematorium wall was a small gate built specifically to allow those taking a short cut through the cemetery to exit onto the lane. Between the pyre and this gate was a frangipani tree (‘Araliya’ in Sinhala) which was in bloom throughout the year.

My cousin and I rested under the tree, seated on the ground, and whiling away the time chatting, but aware of the requirement to inspect the burning pyre regularly. The pyre was in full flight and engulfed in flames, with the burning body visible through the flames. At regular intervals and after 9 pm when the contract staff had departed, our task was to splash kerosene on the pyre, from a safe distance. We were both dressed in white, and of similar height. There were no additional lights in the cemetery, although the burning pyre did illuminate thesurrounding area, its lighting did not extend to the araliya tree under which we were seated.

Even in broad daylight, the foot of the tree was not visible to anyone on the higher ground till they got to the edge of the Christian section and perhaps to the bottom of the steps leading to the lower section. At night, we were certainly not visible to anyone approaching, unless they were very close. The halo of the burning pyre did not extend to the tree.

At about 12:30 am we saw a double decker bus heading towards Mount Lavinia, stop opposite the cemetery, with just the upper deck visible over the cemetery wall. I knew this to be the ‘last bus’, which we took to get back home after late night (9:30 pm) show at cinemas in Colombo.

After a short time we could hear the sound of an animated conversation of a girl and a boy in the air and the gradual increase in volume as they sailed happily towards us. Even though we were seated on the ground, we could see them holding hands and walking towards us almost floating in the air as lovers do. They obviously had eyes only for each other as we could clearly see even from a distance. They were either a pair of lovers or a newly married couple was our unspoken mutual deduction from a distance. The air was still but it was a bit misty as the temperature had dropped. They were obviously taking a short-cut through the cemetery to their house/s down the adjoining lane.

Now, a series of unintentional actions took place concurrently and/or consecutively: The couple in colourful attire were silhouetted on top of the landing at the end of the Christian section and they began their descent down the steps holding hands. At this time, Nihal and I decided to get up from our slumber, stretch our limbs and walk towards the pyre. The couple began their descent, hand in hand, and walked down the incline for some 20 metres.

We began stretching and windmilling our arms to relieve the stiffness in our limbs. It was at this moment that the girl laid her eyes on the two figures in white, about 30 metres away and walking to the pyre from the araliya tree. She froze instantly and then let off a scream, “Aney, magge deviyenne, holman” (My God, ghosts!). Then she recovered and started running towards the gate adjoining the crematorium, pulling the boy along with her. As they ran into the vacant space between the gate and the pyre, my cousin attempted to calm them, which had the opposite effect.

He shouted “Ne, ne, api holman nevei, baya wenna epa” (No, no, we are not ghosts, don’t be afraid) and started running towards the now accelerating couple heading to the gate, veering away from us in sheer terror. My cousin’s denial that we were not ghosts only made them run faster away from us. I could see from far that she was frightened. Even in this state, and from a distance, I could see that they were a good- looking couple in their mid-twenties.

The boy grabbed her even closer, side stepping my cousin, who was now near them. They ran past him, flailing their arms and rushed through the gate onto the well-lit lane. They did not look back.

Fortunately, that was the end of the episode. Later, we laughed about the experience. My Aunt turned into ashes by 3am and we went home, mission accomplished. I walked towards Ratmalana and my cousin in the opposite direction to Dehiwela. On the following day, my uncle, the widower and two of his children collected my aunt’s ashes.

by Nihal Kodituwakku
(Excerpted from an anthology of memoirs)

All News Advertisement

Features

Concept of living wage and cost of living

Published

2 hours ago

2026/04/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

The International Labour Organisation (ILO) now defines a living wage as the wage level necessary for workers and their families to afford a decent standard of living, given national circumstances, for normal hours of work. This standard of living is operationalised through the cost of essential goods and services, typically including food, housing, healthcare, education, transport, and a modest allowance for contingencies and social participation.

In contrast, “cost of living” in economics is a broader price index concept that tracks the overall prices of a representative consumption basket but is not inherently normative about what constitutes decency or dignity.

Living wage methodologies effectively translate a cost-of-living basket, specified for a given family size and living standard, into a monthly income requirement for workers, thereby linking real wages to human development objectives rather than only to market productivity.

Methodologies for computing a living wage

Most contemporary living wage estimates follow a structured “cost of a basic but decent life” approach built around three steps: defining a reference family, costing a normative consumption basket, and converting that cost into a wage per worker.

The Anker methodology, widely used in global supply chains and in Sri Lanka, is a leading example: it defines a model family (e.g., 2 adults and approximately 2–3 children), estimates the cost of a low-cost nutritious diet, adequate housing, and non-food essentials, and then allocates that cost over expected number of full-time workers per family.

Within the Anker framework, the food component is based on locally appropriate diets meeting caloric and nutritional norms, priced using local market surveys and adjusted for waste and home preparation.

Housing costs are derived from standards for minimally acceptable housing (e.g., durable materials, sufficient space, basic services), using rents or imputed rental values from empirical fieldwork. Other essential expenditures, health, education, transport, clothing, and a small margin for unexpected events, are typically estimated as a percentage mark-up over food and housing costs, derived from national household survey data.

Finally, the methodology sets a reference number of workers per family, divides total family living costs by this number to get a net living wage, and then adjusts to a gross living wage by adding payroll taxes and mandatory deductions. Periodic updates are made using consumer price indices (CPIs) to reflect inflation or deflation and, where necessary, new field surveys to capture structural shifts in prices and consumption patterns.

Sri Lanka’s living wage estimates and their link to cost of living (Anker Methodology)

Sri Lanka has been the subject of several living wage studies, notably for the tea estate sector and for urban and rural areas, using the Anker methodology.

In the tea estate sector, an updated 2024 Anker report estimates the cost of a “basic but decent” standard of living for a typical family at about LKR 78,067 per month (approximately USD 260), implying a gross living wage of LKR 48,584 per month (USD 160) and a net, take-home living wage of LKR 44,357.

For urban Sri Lanka, the Anker Living Wage Reference Value was originally set at LKR 84,231 per month in April 2022, corresponding to a net living wage of LKR 77,492 plus social security contributions. After cumulative inflation of about 36.9 percent between April 2022 and June 2025, the updated gross urban living wage is estimated at approximately LKR 115,291 per month (around USD 385), consisting of a net living wage of LKR 106,068 and social security contributions of LKR 9,223

These Sri Lankan figures are explicitly derived from cost-of-living calculations: they incorporate the cost of food, housing, utilities, health, education, and other essentials at local prices and then convert these into wages per adult worker, assuming roughly 1.7–1.8 full-time earners per family. Because living wage estimates are indexed to actual price dynamics, periods of high inflation, as Sri Lanka experienced in 2022–2023, translate almost mechanically into sharp upward revisions in living wages, underlining the tight coupling between living wage levels and the evolving cost of living.

Comparative living wages: Sri Lanka and other countries

Cross-country comparisons require careful normalisation because living wages reflect local prices, family structures, and social norms, but several datasets provide a structured basis for comparison. [asia.floorwage](https://asia.floorwage.org/living-wage/calculating-a-living-wage/)

The Asia Floor Wage Alliance, for example, publishes a regional living wage benchmark expressed in purchasing power parity (PPP) terms, with a 2024 benchmark of 1,750.54 PPP dollars per month converted into local currencies using country-specific PPP exchange rates.

Using this PPP-based approach, the 2024 living wage equivalent for Sri Lanka is estimated at around LKR 158,353 per month, assuming a PPP exchange rate of about 90.5 Sri Lankan rupees per PPP dollar.

This PPP-normalised figure is substantially higher than the Anker 2024–2025 estate-sector and urban living wage estimates in nominal rupees, partly because the Asia Floor Wage benchmark is set to ensure a more harmonised standard across Asian garment-producing economies and uses a single PPP wage target.

These figures indicate that, within this PPP-based framework, Sri Lanka’s living wage in local currency is relatively high compared to countries such as India and Bangladesh, but the comparison reflects both different PPP exchange rates and domestic price structures.

From a cost-of-living perspective, this pattern is consistent with Sri Lanka being a lower-middle-income country with relatively higher prices for some essentials compared with low-income South Asian economies, especially after recent macroeconomic and inflationary shocks.

Global patterns and high-income economies

Global datasets covering more than 200 countries show that typical-family living wage levels, whether calculated in PPP or nominal terms, tend to correlate positively with national income levels, with North America, Western Europe, and Australia displaying the highest living wage values.

In this global distribution, living wages in middle- and low-income regions of Asia, Africa, and Latin America are lower in absolute terms, though the ratio of living wage to median wages or statutory minimum wages can be high, underscoring the gap between decent-work standards and prevailing labour market outcomes.

Interestingly, some studies note that rural living wage estimates can be relatively high in poorer countries because limited infrastructure and service availability raise the cost of accessing a given standard of living, such as safe water, transport, and education.

For Sri Lanka, rural Anker living wage benchmarks similarly reveal the importance of non-food costs, such as transportation to schools, health facilities, and workplaces, in shaping the total family budget, despite lower nominal rents in many rural areas.

Living wage, social policy, and Sri Lanka’s development trajectory

The emerging international consensus around a living wage is rooted in the human rights-based notion of a “decent life” rather than a subsistence minimum or an arbitrarily set statutory floor.

From a social science perspective, incorporating living wage benchmarks into wage-setting institutions, collective bargaining, and social dialogue reorients labour markets toward social reproduction, intergenerational mobility, and social cohesion, rather than merely cost competitiveness.

For Sri Lanka, where recent crises have eroded real wages and increased household vulnerability, living wage estimates such as the Anker urban and estate-sector benchmarks provide an analytically rigorous yardstick for evaluating whether current wage policies and social transfers are adequate relative to the actual cost of a basic but decent life.

Comparisons with regional PPP-based benchmarks like the Asia Floor Wage suggest that, while Sri Lanka’s living wage requirement in local currency is relatively high, the country also faces significant affordability challenges, especially for low-paid workers in export sectors and informal employment, whose earnings often fall short of these normative thresholds.

In policy terms, the living wage framework highlights the need for coordinated approaches that combine wage-setting reforms, inflation-sensitive social protection, and productivity-enhancing investments, so that rising living-cost-consistent wages do not simply translate into inflationary spirals or employment losses.

For empirical research in Sri Lanka, these benchmarks open avenues for micro-level analysis of wage gaps, household coping strategies, gendered labour outcomes, and the distributional effects of macroeconomic adjustment, all anchored to a transparent and internationally recognised living wage methodology.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)

Features

Buddhist philosophy and the path to lasting peace

Published

2 hours ago

2026/04/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

Echoes of ‘The Walk for Peace’

The international Walk for Peace’ reaching Colombo, joined by a large number of monks and devotees, led by spiritual leader Ven Bhikku Pannakara, with the peace dog ‘Aloka,’ completing the 161 km journey.The walk commenced in Dambulla on April 22 following the main ceremony at the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi in Anuradhapura.Pic by Nishan S.Priyantha

by Ven. Dr. Kirinde Assaji Nayaka Thero
Chief Incumbent, Gangaramaya Temple, Hunupitiya, Colombo

Throughout human history, one of the greatest and most complex challenges has been the establishment of lasting peace and the maintenance of harmonious coexistence. While peace is often understood simply as the absence of war or armed conflict, a deeper, spiritual perspective reveals it as a profound state of social and mental harmony. It is an ideal that must be cultivated within individuals as well as across societies.

Buddhism offers one of the most practical and timeless philosophies of peace. The teachings of the Buddha are rooted in non-violence and the four sublime virtues—loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. Central to this philosophy is the idea that true peace in the world begins with inner peace within the individual. Conflict, the Buddha taught, arises not on battlefields but within the human mind, driven by greed, hatred, and delusion. Without overcoming these negative forces, lasting peace in the external world remains unattainable.

In today’s world, marked by geopolitical tensions, economic competition, and social unrest—this inward approach to peace is more relevant than ever. Despite technological advancement, humanity continues to grapple with violence and division. The Buddha’s teaching points instead to an internal struggle: a battle against anger, jealousy, and ignorance. Rather than weapons of destruction, Buddhism promotes wisdom, compassion, patience, and discipline as the tools to overcome conflict.

The path to peace begins with understanding its causes. Just as muddy water becomes clear when left undisturbed, the human mind achieves clarity and calm when negative emotions are subdued. This principle is reflected in the Buddha’s intervention during a historic dispute between the Sakya and Koliya clans over water, where he reminded them of the greater value of human life, thereby preventing bloodshed.

In a world increasingly threatened by conflict over limited resources and political power, such lessons remain highly relevant. The Buddha also emphasised the principle of moral causation—actions have consequences.

Yadisaṃ vapate bijaṃ tadisaṃ harate phalaṃ
Kalyaāṇakariī kalyaṃ papakariī ca papakaṃ
Pavutthaṃ tata te bijaṃ phalaṃ paccanubhossasiti

“As one sows the seed, so does one reap the fruit.

The doer of good receives good results, and the doer of evil receives evil results.

Dear one, whatever seed you have planted, you will experience the corresponding fruit of it.”

At the heart of Buddhist ethics is respect for life. All beings fear harm and seek happiness, and therefore, violence against others cannot lead to true well-being. This message is particularly significant in an era where the race for power and advanced weaponry continues to overshadow compassion and humanity.

The fundamental moral discipline in Buddhism is respect for life and opposition to harming living beings. The Buddha taught that all beings desire happiness, and fear suffering, and that harming others will not lead to happiness.

Sabbe tasanti dandassa
sabbe bhayanti maccuno
attanam upamam katva
na haneyya na ghataye.

“All tremble at violence; all fear death. Comparing others with oneself, one should neither kill nor cause others to kill.”

Despite technological advancement, the world appears to be moving backwards in terms of compassion and peace. Power-driven politics and the race for advanced weaponry cannot provide lasting solutions. Global leaders, diplomats, and policymakers must urgently recognise the importance of the tolerant, balanced, and non-violent approach taught in Buddhism. Protecting the right to life of all beings, and acting with compassion beyond divisions of race, religion, or politics, is the only true foundation for world peace.

Sri Lanka, as a nation nourished by the essence of Buddhism, has long upheld this principle. The Sri Lankan tradition, rooted in boundless loving-kindness and compassion, strives to uphold human values even amidst the harsh realities of global politics. From the respect shown by King Dutugemunu towards King Elara, to Sri Lanka’s stance at the 1951 San Francisco Peace Conference invoking the words “Hatred is never appeased by hatred,” to recent humanitarian acts in rescuing sailors in distress—these all reflect a single philosophy: valuing human life above all divisions.

The presentation of a “Joint Declaration for Peace” by the Mahanayake Theros at Gangaramaya Temple recently reaffirmed Sri Lanka’s commitment to global peace. Despite global power struggles, Sri Lanka continues to stand as a symbol of compassion and peace, reminding the world that human kindness is more powerful than weapons.

Institutions such as the Gangaramaya Temple have played a vital role in fostering social harmony. Through charitable, educational, and cultural programmes, the temple has encouraged unity across religious and ethnic lines, while also promoting interfaith dialogue and cooperation.

The annual Navam Maha Perahera, organised by the temple, stands as a powerful symbol of national unity, bringing together people from diverse backgrounds in a shared celebration. Similarly, vocational training and educational initiatives have helped empower young people from all communities, strengthening social cohesion.

A recent “Walk for Peace,” led by Venerable Pannakara Thero and supported by the monastic community, further underscored this commitment. More than a physical journey, it represented a spiritual effort to cultivate peace within the human heart and spread a message of compassion to the wider world.

One of the most touching aspects of the event was the participation of a dog named “Aloka,” which accompanied the monks throughout the journey. This simple yet powerful image reflected the Buddhist teaching that all living beings value life and deserve compassion, highlighting the universal nature of peace.

Ultimately, the Buddha’s message remains clear: peace cannot be achieved through hatred or violence. True peace arises from self-discipline, moral conduct, and the cultivation of a pure mind. As the teaching states, avoiding evil, doing good, and purifying one’s mind is the path laid down by the Buddha.

Let us plant the seeds of peace within our hearts and nurture them with loving-kindness. (“Sabba papassa akarananṃ – kusalassa upasampadā – sacitta pariyodapanaṃ – etaṃ Buddhana sasanaṃ”)

In a time when global tensions continue to rise, this timeless message serves as a powerful reminder that lasting peace begins within each individual—and that compassion remains humanity’s greatest strength.

“Devo vassatu kalena – sassa sampatti hetu ca
Pito bhavatu loko ca – rajaā bhavatu dhammiko”

(“May the rains fall at the right time, bringing about abundant harvests.

May the world be joyful and prosperous.

May the ruler be righteous and just.”)

Features

Peace march and promise of reconciliation

Published

1 day ago

2026/04/28

Sahan Weerasooriya

Peace walk in progress

The ongoing peace march by a group of international Buddhist monks has captured the sentiment of Sri Lankans in a manner that few public events have done in recent times. It is led by the Vietnamese monk Venerable Thich Pannakara who is associated with a mindfulness movement that has roots in Vietnamese Buddhist practice and actively promoted among diaspora communities in the United States. The peace march by the monks, accompanied by their mascot, the dog Aloka, has generated affection and goodwill within the Buddhist and larger community. It follows earlier peace walks in the United States where monks carried a similar message of mindfulness and compassion across communities but without any government or even media patronage as in Sri Lanka.

This initiative has the potential to unfold into an effort to nurture a culture of peace in Sri Lanka. Such a culture is necessary if the country as the country prepares to move beyond its history of conflict towards a more longlasting reconciliation and a political solution to its ethnic and religious divisions. The government’s support for the peace march can be seen as part of a broader attempt to shape such a culture. The Clean Sri Lanka programme, promoted by the government as a civic responsibility campaign focused on environmental cleanliness, ethical conduct and social discipline, provides a useful framework within which such initiatives can be situated. Its emphasis on collective responsibility and shared public space makes it sit well with the values that peacebuilding requires.

government’s previous plan to promote a culture of peace was on the occasion of “Sri Lanka Day” celebrations which were scheduled to take place on December 12-14 last year but was disrupted by Cyclone Ditwah. The Sri Lanka Day celebrations were to include those talented individuals from each and every community at the district level who had excelled in some field or the other, such as science, business or arts and culture and selected by the District Secretariats in each of the 25 districts. They were to gather in Colombo to engage in cultural performances and community-focused exhibitions. The government’s intention was to build up a discourse around the ideas of unity in diversity as a precursor to addressing the more contentious topics of human rights violations during the war period, and issues of accountability and reparations for wrongs suffered during that dark period.

Positive Response

The invitation to the international monks appears to have emerged from within Buddhist religious networks in Sri Lanka that have long maintained links with the larger international Buddhist community. The strong support extended by leading temples and clergy within the country, including the Buddhists Mahanayakes indicates that this was not an isolated effort but one that resonated with the mainstream Buddhist establishment. Indeed, the involvement of senior Buddhist leaders has been particularly noteworthy. A Joint Declaration for Peace in the world, drawing on Sri Lanka’s own experience, and by the Mahanayakes of all Buddhist Chapters took place in the context of the ongoing peace march at the Gangaramaya Temple in Colombo, with participation from the diplomatic community. The declaration, calling for compassion, dialogue and sustainable peace, reflects an effort by religious leadership to assert a moral voice in favour of coexistence.

The popular response to the peace march has also been striking. Large numbers of people have been gathering along the route, offering flowers, water and support to the monks. Schoolchildren have been lining the roads, and communities from different religious backgrounds extend hospitality. On the way, the monks were hosted by both a Hindu temple and a mosque, where food and refreshments were provided. These acts, though simple, carry a message about the possibility of harmony among Sri Lanka’s diverse communities. It helps to counter the perception that the Buddhist community in Sri Lanka is inherently nationalist and resistant to minority concerns that was shaped during the decades of war and reinforced by political mobilisation that too often exploited ethnic identity.

By way of contrast, the peace march offers a different image. It shows a readiness among ordinary people to embrace values of compassion and coexistence that are deeply embedded in Buddhist teaching. The Metta Sutta, one of the most well-known discourses in Buddhism, calls for boundless goodwill towards all beings. It states that one should cultivate a mind that is “boundless towards all beings, free from hatred and ill will.” This emphasis on universal compassion provides a moral foundation for peace that extends beyond national or ethnic boundaries. The monks themselves emphasised this point repeatedly during the walk. Venerable Thich Pannakara reminded those who gathered that while acts of generosity are commendable, mindfulness in everyday life is even more important. He warned that as people become unmindful, they are more prone to react with anger and hatred, thereby contributing to conflict.

More Initiatives

The presence of political leaders at key moments of the march has emphasised the significance that the government attaches to the event. Prime Minister Harini Amarasuriya paid her respects to the peace march monks in Kandy, while President Anura Kumara Dissanayake is expected to do so at the conclusion of the march in Colombo. Such gestures signal an alignment between political authority and moral aspiration, even if the translation of that aspiration into policy remains a work in progress. At the same time, the peace march has not been without its shortcomings. The walk did not engage with the Northern and Eastern parts of the country, regions that were most affected by the war and where the need for reconciliation is most acute. A more inclusive geographic reach would have strengthened the symbolic impact of the initiative.

In addition, the positive impact of the peace march could have been increased if more effort had been taken to coordinate better with other civic and religious groups and include them in the event. Many civil society and religious harmony groups who would have liked to participate in the peace march found themselves unable to do so. There was no place in the programme for them to join. Even government institutions tasked with promoting social cohesion and reconciliation found themselves outside the loop. The Clean Sri Lanka Task Force that organised the peace march may have felt that involving other groups would have made it more complicated to organise the events which have proceeded without problems.

The hope is that the positive energy and goodwill generated by this peace march will not dissipate but will instead inspire further initiatives with the requisite coordination and leadership. The march has generated public discussion, drawn attention to the values of mindfulness and compassion, and created a space in which people can imagine a different future. It has been a special initiative among the many that are needed to build a culture of peace. A culture of peace cannot be imposed from above nor can it emerge overnight. It needs to be nurtured through multiple efforts across society, including education, religious engagement, civic initiatives and political reform. It is within such a culture that the more difficult questions of power sharing, justice and reconciliation can be addressed in a constructive manner.

by Jehan Perera