On sweeping close to one's feet ~ Malinda Words

Jayanath Bodahandi (Bodhi), the eldest in his family, would have been just out of school when his father, an illustrator at an advertising agency, passed away. Bodhi could draw and the kind people at the agency offered him a job.

There was a problem. Bodhi lived in Balapitiya and the salary would hardly cover expenses such as rent, food and bus fare. There was a solution. The hamuduruwo of the village temple arranged for him to stay in a temple in Colombo.

Bodhi returned to the temple late after his first day at work to find there was no food for him. The loku hamuduruwo had explained that it wasn’t a rich temple frequented by wealthy and generous laity; it was not possible to provide meals.

Bodhi went to sleep hungry. He was up early the following morning. He decided that this arrangement wasn’t working. He had just enough money for the bus to Balapitiya. So he went to work. No, not to the advertising agency. The temple.

He picked up an idala (ekel broom) and started sweeping the temple premises. As he was finishing, he noticed the loku hamuduruwo watching him. When he was done, he kept the idala aside, went up to the loku hamuduruwo, worshipped him, thanked him for allowing him to stay and told him that he had decided to give up on his job and return home.

The loku hamuduruwo understood Bodhi’s predicament. He dissuaded the young man: 'thiyena vidihakata kaala imu; yanna ona naha (you don’t have to go; let’s manage with what we have).'

Years later Bodhi said that in retrospect the exercise of sweeping the temple compound was like an advertising campaign.

It was a simple act. An act of gratitude for something simple that he received — a roof over his head for one night. It led to a career in advertising that saw him become a creative director at a top agency and then starting off on his own.

Two things reminded me of Bodhi’s story, a poem and a photograph. First, the poem.

පා අවට විතරයි
පිරිසිදු කළේ ඉදල
අවසානයේ
අතුගෑවිලා මිදුල

Essentially: the ekel broom sweeps around or close to the feet, but it is an entire compound that has got swept.

The poet throws soft light on the simple and commonplace and makes visible profound truths, as is evidenced in most of the poems in the collection, Suminda Kithsiri Gunaratne’s sixth, Prisma (Prisms).

And the photo: that of a hamuduruwo, idala in hand, sweeping the compound of the Buddhangala Monastery in Ampara, apparently belonging to the Digamadulla Kingdom, 4th Century BC. Buddhangala, although located deep in the jungles around Ampara, was brought back to life, so to speak, by a brave young hamuduruwo in 1964, Rev Kalutara Dhammananda Thero. I am not sure if it is this hamuduruwo who is captured in the photograph, but most certainly the complex developing to what it is now owes much to the fact that the Thero had focused on sweeping close to his feet.

On a tree close to where the hamuduruwo is sweeping there’s a board with the following line from the Dhammapada: ‘Appamado amatha padang — nopamaava nivanata hethu ve,’ which can be loosely translated as ‘timely action, i.e. without delay, paves the way to nirvana.’

That which needs to be done right now, then, needs to be done with absolute integrity of the faculties, with composure, dedication and unwavering resolve. Large and complex extents, physical and otherwise, get cleared thereby.

Bodhi was sweeping the area close to his feet; the entire compound got swept . Rev Kalutara Dhammananda Thero was sweeping the area close to his feet; and now people know there's a place called Buddhangala in Ampara. The hamuduruwo in the photograph is sweeping the area closest to his feet; it’s an example, a study in concentration that throws a lot of light on right conduct.

Tharindu, in his photographic endeavours, is essentially covering or rather clearing nearby-ground; he ends up clearing vast areas of the mind, his and (at least) mine. Suminda uses pen as an idala. He removes clutter, keeps things tidy. He is in fact casting a thin ray of light on the mind’s prisms which duly disperses and shows things in their true colours.

29 April 2023

On sweeping close to one's feet

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]

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