Seeking …. Travelling As A Goal ….
Source:Thuppahis
Fazli Sameer, … The Compass Café …… If you donno where you’re going, then, any map will do
It was the sort of café people stumbled into without planning. A little crooked building on a side street that never seemed to appear on Google Maps. The hand-painted sign above the door read: “The Compass Café, Directions Served Daily.” Situated in the heart of Kollupitiya, on Green Path, the ambience was amazing and many young people made it a regular place to hang out in the evenings.
Inside, the air smelled of strong coffee and cardamom buns. A jumble of maps covered the walls: ancient parchment, subway diagrams, star charts, even children’s doodles of treasure islands. Every table had a globe, most of them cracked and faded.
At a corner table sat Jeronis, a young man with restless eyes, flipping through a road atlas as though it were a holy text. Across from him sat Mara, his older sister, her suitcase tucked under the chair.
“You’ve been staring at that thing for half an hour,” Mara said, sipping her tea. “Do you even know where you want to go?”
Jeronis shook his head. “Not exactly. But somewhere. Anywhere. I just don’t want to stay stuck where I am.”
“That’s not the same as having a direction,” Mara replied.
At that moment, the café owner shuffled over. An elderly man in suspenders, his name tag simply reading ‘Navigator Singho.’
“Trouble choosing a map?” the Navigator asked, peering at Jeronis’s atlas.
“I guess so,” Jeronis admitted. “I just feel like if I find the right map, the rest will fall into place.”
The old man chuckled. “Son, if you don’t know where you’re going, any map will do. The question isn’t which road, but why you’re walking it.”
Jeronis frowned. “That sounds more like old wives tale wisdom.”
“Maybe,” the Navigator shrugged. “But wisdom’s cheap. Experience costs more. Care for a story?”
Mara smiled knowingly. “Go on, Jeronis. You always did like stories.”
Navigator Singho leaned on their table.
“Once upon a time, three travelers met at a crossroads. Each carried a rolled-up map.
The first traveler said, ‘I’m heading to the mountains to find peace.’ His map showed winding trails up jagged peaks.
The second said, ‘I’m bound for the sea to find fortune.’ Her map led to harbors and shipping lanes.
The third shrugged, ‘I don’t know where I’m going. But I’ve got a map, so I’ll be fine.’
They all set off with great hope and anxiety.
The mountain-seeker reached the peaks but discovered the thin air and cold silence weren’t the peace he’d imagined. The sea-seeker found ships and gold, but also storms and pirates, more fortune than she could carry, more fear than she could bear.
And the third? He wandered in circles, forever changing maps, never realizing he was lost, because he never asked what he truly sought.”
Navigator Singho leaned closer. “Now, tell me, kolla, are you the third traveler?”
Jeronis bristled. “I’m not wandering in circles. I’m just… waiting for something to click.”
Mara set down her cup. “Jeronis, you’ve been waiting for years. Remember when you wanted to be a musician? Then a teacher? Then a photographer? Each time, you bought the tools, studied the maps, but the moment the road got hard, you dropped it.”
Jeronis’s voice rose. “Easy for you to say, you had a plan. Law school, internships, everything lined up. Not all of us know from childhood what we’re meant to do!”
Mara softened her tone. “I didn’t know. I just chose something and kept walking. That’s the difference.”
Jeronis slumped. “But what if I choose wrong?”
The Navigator tapped the table. “Choosing nothing is the only wrong choice.”
At the next table, a young woman, with a dusty backpack leaned over.
“Sorry to eavesdrop,” she said with a grin. “But I think I get what you’re going through.”
Jeronis blinked. “Do I know you?”
“Nope. Name’s Kumari. I’ve been traveling two years. Europe, Asia, Pacific islands you wouldn’t find on these maps.” She gestured at the walls. “At first I thought I was searching for something, a calling, maybe. But then I realized it’s not about the map at all.”
“What’s it about, then?” Jeronis asked.
She shrugged. “It’s about movement. About testing paths until one of them feels like home. You can’t figure it out sitting still, waiting for clarity. You’ve got to walk.”
Mara raised an eyebrow. “And what if none of the paths feel like home?”
Lina smiled. “Then you keep walking. Even the wrong road teaches you where you don’t belong. Every misstep is still a step forward.”
Jeronis stared at his atlas. His fingers traced a line across the faded paper, though he wasn’t sure why.
“I’ve been afraid of making a mistake,” he said softly. “Afraid of wasting years on the wrong choice.”
Navigator Singho placed a gnarled hand on the globe at their table. “There are no wasted years. Only lessons written on roads. Tell me, if you could start anywhere tomorrow, where would you go?”
Jeronis hesitated. Then he whispered, “South. Toward the coast. Galle, Matara, Hambantota, and even Tissamaharama. I’ve always wanted to be close to the ocean, to feel that horizon, the amazing sunsets.”
Mara smiled faintly. “Finally, an answer.”
Lina grinned. “Then go. Buy the wrong shoes, take the wrong bus, sleep in the wrong town. But move. And soon enough, you’ll know whether the sea is your peace or just another teacher.”
Jeronis closed the atlas. “Okay,” he said. “South it is. I don’t know if I’ll find what I’m looking for, but I won’t find it sitting here.”
Navigator Singho chuckled. “Exactly. Maps are tools, not destinies. The road will write its own chart as you walk it.”
Mara stood, picking up her suitcase. “I’ll walk you to the Kollupitiya station. Who knows? Maybe I’ll come visit once you’ve found your horizon.”
As they left, Lina called after him, “Remember, if you don’t know where you’re going, any map will do. But once your heart whispers a direction, even a torn scrap of paper will guide you through.”
Jeronis stepped out into the sunlit street. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel lost. He felt like a traveler.
