Sri Lanka 15.04.2025 Amrit Singh
Amrit Singh, TransIndus MD, recalls her experience of Jaffna’s unique culture, golden sandy beaches, and vibrant Aluth Avurudu New Year celebrations on her journey to Sri Lanka’s enchanting northern city.
On my first visit to Sri Lanka in longer than I care to recall, I found myself drawn to the serene beauty and cultural depth of Jaffna - the northernmost tip of the island. I arrived just in time for the Sri Lankan New Year, ready to celebrate with a local family and rediscover a part of the country long overlooked.
Jaffna's ever-narrowing peninsula juts into the ocean like a silvery thread, where the Bay of Bengal meets the Indian Ocean before it fragments into a dozen small islands - each with a character and ecosystem of its own. The region's white-sand beaches, unique to this corner of the island, are lapped by crystal-clear waters, while mangroves and marshy lagoons brim with sea life and migrating birds, including Siberian cranes flying south for the winter. Nature lovers will find a haven here, especially those drawn to gentle island-hopping by ferry or private boat.
Our journey began at Point Pedro, the northernmost tip of the Sri Lankan mainland, where Captain Pedro of Portugal is said to have first set foot in the early 1500s. The Portuguese established coastal strongholds, introducing Christianity and leaving behind striking architecture - nowhere more evident than in the imposing 22-acre Jaffna Fort. The Dutch followed in the 17th century, expanding inland to trade spices, before the British took control in the late 1700s. A red postbox still stands at Point Pedro, bearing the insignia of King George V - still, I'm told, in working order.
Shielded by geography and decades of civil war, Jaffna remained isolated from tourism, preserving its ancient customs and way of life. Even now, fifteen years after peace, it feels like stepping into a slower, more graceful era. The air is clean, the landscape open and still, and the sense of community and loss is still deeply felt.
The population here is largely of Tamil descent, many tracing their roots to South India. They remain proudly devout and quietly traditional - qualities beautifully embodied by Dharani and Sujani, the young couple who welcomed me into their home for New Year celebrations. Dharani, an air-conditioning engineer, married Sujani, a schoolteacher, in 2015 and moved into her family home in keeping with the matriarchal customs of their community.
Sujani's parents bustle in and out - Rajakumar keeps a watchful eye, and Prema, the family's matriarch, remains busy with preparations for the New Year, known here as Aluth Avurudu, celebrated on the 13th and 14th of April. Astrology determines the precise, auspicious time to light the hearth, share the first meal, or begin work.
What sets the Sri Lankan New Year apart is the nonagathe, a neutral period between the old and new year when no work is done. Families gather, cleanse their homes, and prepare for a symbolic fresh start.
At 9:35 a.m., we gathered around the family altar, painted with ground rice and natural dyes and adorned with fruit, flowers, sandalwood, and flickering brass prayer lamps. Dharani lit a fire beneath a clay pot filled with milk and water. We watched in quiet anticipation as it slowly came to the boil and spilled over - a sign of abundance and prosperity.
Coconut, jaggery, cardamom, and frankincense were added to the pot while Prema lit the lamps and offered her prayers - giving thanks for the year past and invoking light, wisdom, and protection for the year to come. The fragrant smoke curled upwards, filling the air with warmth and devotion.
Later, dressed in new clothes, the family visited the nearby Nallur Temple. Then, they joined friends and neighbours for traditional games and dancing to the beat of drums in a spirit of festive harmony and quiet joy. As we prepared to leave, Sujani smiled and said, "It was a surprise to share this ritual with someone new. I hope the rest of your year brings surprises too." With that, she gently invited me to return—a wish I carry with me until I return.