Lunch at the Kovil: A Taste of Community and Culture

 Lunch at the Kovil: A Taste of Community and Culture

Dr. Shane Halpe 

It was Wednesday, supposed to be business as usual. But, something remarkable happened.

It was midday after work, and as usual, I was wondering where to go for lunch. My colleague and I typically rotate between the medical faculty canteen, the traditional eatery Ammachi on Palali Road, or a non-vegetarian spot called Hotel New Selva on KKS Road. Lunch in Jaffna has always been a little highlight of the day—simple, hearty, and satisfying.

As I wandered near Kondavil, I heard the rhythmic sounds of percussion and flutes echoing through the air. The music was coming from the nearby Arasady Pillaiyar Kovil. The festive melodies were loud, vibrant, and so captivating they made you want to dance. A large crowd was gathering in procession. At the center, a group of men and young boys—bare-chested and solemn—were carrying Lord Ganesha on their shoulders and necks with reverence. It was a powerful sight. Some of the older men bore thickened necks, a lasting sign of years spent bearing their deity with devotion. Women in bright, beautiful sarees followed behind in reverent joy.

Just then, my friend called out to me, “Anna, why not join me? Let’s go to the Kovil for lunch.”

I was surprised. “Lunch at the Kovil?” I asked.

A few nearby medical students explained—it was the beginning of the temple festival, a 10-day celebration. During this period, the temple community organizes almsgiving—offering meals, either lunch or dinner, to anyone who comes. No invitation is needed.

I decided to join.

I was guided to sit on the floor along the wall of a large hall, shoulder to shoulder with others. Men and women sat separately. The entire community was present—young and old, rich and poor, people from different walks of life, castes, and classes. There was no hierarchy here. No discrimination. Only unity.

We were served a sumptuous rice and curry meal on banana leaves—various vegetable curries, fragrant, warm, and plentiful. There was enough for everyone and then some. It reminded me of the dansala held during Vesak, but this was my first time experiencing something similar at a Hindu temple.

As I ate, I realized how special this moment was. It wasn’t just about the food—it was about the spirit behind it. The kindness. The sharing. The quiet, powerful truth that no one was left behind. Everyone was welcome, and the only requirement was to simply be human.

Sharing a meal with friends and strangers is a deeply intimate act. It breaks barriers. It fosters unity. Today, I witnessed a beautiful example of communal harmony—rooted in culture, tradition, and the joy of giving.

And most of all—it was fun.