 |
| Inmates of the Magazine Prison, Welikada get ready for Vesak. Pic by Rukshan Abeywansha |
‘Dan ithin Vesak
balanna yanna baya nehe; bomba pipirenne nehene (Now, after all, we can go
to see the Vesak decorations without fear; there are no bombs exploding).’ This is what a neighbor who sells betel,
sweets and sometimes king coconut told me a short while ago. True.
There was a time when parents did not travel in the same
bus. Indeed, a time when families
deliberately split themselves wherever they went. This is one of the key differences between
LTTE-time and post-LTTE time. That,
however, is not what I want to write about.
Today (May 17, 2011) is Vesak. It’s a special Vesak. It is the 2600th
anniversary of the Enlightenment, the moment when a prince destined to rule the
world who became an ascetic discovered the dimensions of sorrow, the reasons
for sorrow and the pathways to eliminate sorrow. It is a momentous occasion for
all Buddhists but especially for those who place (too much?) value on dates,
anniversaries and celebration.
Today, most of the island is decorated with Buddhist flags.
There are banners across the roads, pennants too, with quotes from the
Dhammapada as well as other sections of the vast archive that holds the Word of
the Buddha and the incredible output of commentaries over the past 2600
years. The temples are clad in the white
of sil and devotion, good intention
and peace. Tonight there will be light.
There will be pandals, lanterns and vesak
koodu, ‘bulbed’ and ‘candled’. There will be tiny clay lamps placed neatly
on walls and doorsteps, with tiny flames swaying. Temples and houses will be
fragrant with flowers, incense sticks, kapuru
and burning oil, in humble veneration of a doctrine whose perfume outlasts all
in akalika of the eternal
verities.
This is also a country that gets lit at Christmas, is made
of non-Muslims who look forward to Ramazan, non-Hindus believe that ‘Vel’ is
part of who they are. This is a country that on Vesak day and the day after turns
into a nation or dansal
(giving-stalls?), where each and every passerby, whether in a vehicle or not,
is offered a soft drink, koththamalli
(coriander), manioc with kochchi
sambol, kadala (chick-peas), herbal
brews, plain tea, coffee (hot and black or cold and with milk), bread or rice.
Wherever you go. This is a country that
becomes a dansala twice a year in
fact, with Poson (the full moon day
in June), marking the arrival of Arahat Mahinda, being as colourfully
celebrated as Vesak, and as devotedly too, i.e. in the temple-white of sil and offering flowers.
I can’t help thinking that this is also a country that on an
auspicious day in April, almost every hearth (or cooker) gets lit at the exact
moment and one where in most homes at another auspicious moment millions of
people partake of kiribath. That’s unity and unification that no
constitutional enactment or emergency rule can decree and obtain. Or forbid,
for that matter.
There is something about this flawed land of ours that made
Sinhalese people who had ‘bomb’ and ‘explosion’ hanging over every wakeful
moment, spontaneously collect food and other essentials when the tsunami struck
and send lorry loads of relief items to areas held by the LTTE. These very same people, vilified outrageously
for the crimes of politically motivated thugs, gave whatever they could,
volunteered to provide medical attention etc., to civilians who were rescued
from the clutches of the LTTE, even though it was known that there were LTTE
cadres among them. This is a country
where the tax rupees of Sinhalese were regularly sent to LTTE-held areas,
either as cash or as goods, even though it was well known that the terrorists
either got a cut or helped themselves to everything sent.
This is a country where Tamil people in the Jaffna Peninsula
warmly welcomed visiting Sinhalese, even though they knew that the vast
majority of soldiers who had in the battle caused the death and dismemberment
of fellow-Tamils. This is a country
where Tamils and Sinhalese were and are ready to put aside identity-markers and
unite against draconian laws and unfair regulations that impact particular
communities or everyone. This is not a
country that is un-flawed, where chauvinism is absent. It is a country where
suspicion often has deep roots. It is
also a country that can rise above these things on occasion, especially in
times of trouble.
This is a country that knows how to suffer and how to
rejoice, how to err and learn, how fight and how to make peace, how to live and
let live, how to forgive and forget.
I believe there is a particular ‘something’ about this
nation that allows us to be like this, to fall but pick ourselves and each
other up, to rise above hatred, to embrace enemy, to forgive conqueror for all
excesses and embrace his/her progeny and accommodate his/her faith and related
artifacts. This ‘something’ is not there
for anthropological picking or for journalistic description. Those who know it, see it. Those who don’t see
it are convinced that it doesn’t exist. This is good.
This is a land made of hope and that’s because of this ‘something’
which is made to make us do certain things in certain ways. This is a land, which, for all its many
flaws, is still a paradise on earth. I,
for one, would not wish any other home. Not in this lifetime or in the next.
This is good enough. No, this is more than ‘good enough’.
And not just because I can go to ‘See Vesak’ without having
to worry about bomb explosions.
Sabbe Satta Bhavantu
Sukhitatta. May all beings be happy.
msenevira@gmail.com
*This was originally written for the Daily News three years ago. It's still valid, I believe.
No comments:
Post a Comment