Call from the deep:

'Flames of lovely lamps'

by Aditha Dissanayake

"Which else shall beautify a home
But the flame of a lovely lamp
Which else shall adorn the mind
But the Light of Wisdom deep"

The lines quoted by Sivanandini Duraiswamy in "Remembering Hindu Traditions" come to mind, now that October is here and in a few days' time it would be Deepavali.

Hundred and forty kilometres away from Colombo in the town of Watagoda, nestled among the mountains of the Great Western range I meet a worker of the tea estate close by walking along the Pundulu-Oya road with his wife.

His name is Prameswaran. He looks forty?Fifty?Sixty? I give up trying to guess. His wife, Rajeshwary, dressed in a jacket of the brightest pink and a green, gold threaded sari hovers shyly behind him. They are on their way to the Watagoda town to do their Deepavali shopping.

"Rombu kasu Irikku tha?" Nallam?" (You have lots of money. Isn't that marvellous?) I ask them hoping I had got the sentence correct. "Ama, ama" says Prameswaran revealing a row of blood red teeth, Dracula would have envied. The look of innocent joy in his eyes is a sight to behold.

He begins to speak without a pause. I listen as intently as I can and conclude they are on their way to buy green gram, rice and flour and clothes for their daughter, Indira Gandhi and their son, "Podian".

I turn to Rajeshwary and ask her what food she will be preparing for Deepavali. Bashful like a schoolgirl she covers her face with her hand and giggles. Parameswaran glares at her and speaks on her behalf. Wadai, murukku, urundei". Urundei? Rajeshwari begins to explain, but alas my limited Tamil fails me.

"They have been paid their festival advances, says the owner of the Grocery nearby who has been listening to our conversation. "In some families, where several members work as daily paid workers in the tea estates, contributions are made by everybody to form a lump sum, with which they buy a TV, a fan, etc."

Looking at the pavements filled with goods in the town of Thalawakelle resembling a miniature version of Petah during April, it is obvious that the extra payments have made all the estate workers feel like kings, this month. The month of Deepavali.

Deepavali the festival of lights; or rather, the festival of a row of lighted lamps which denote four legitimate goals of human kind. The lamp itself, the oil, the wick and the flame all put together are said to represent dharma, wealth, love and spiritual liberation.

According to Duraisawamy, Saint Appar sings of this in a lovely psalm in which he speaks of the body as the House where Lord Siva resides and due to the darkness of ignorance God is not visible, and adds, that the mind which is the lamp, should be filled with ghee which is the spirit and the wick of life placed in it and lit up by knowledge so that the darkness will be removed and God's Feet will be discerned. It is this Light that is mirrored in the rows of lights of Deepavali.

But does Parameswaran know about the deep significance the sages have attributed to Deepavali? Does he know that it was on this day that Lord Vishnu married Lakshmi? And that this was the day Rama returned to Ayodhya after defeating Ravana?

He shakes his head in bewilderment. His hand goes to his shirt pocket. Taking out a bundle of notes he licks his finger and begins to count. Not wanting to delay them from their shopping spree I take my leave.

Parameswaran and Rajeshwary may not know the deep significance of Deepavali, but they are happy, and surely this is all that counts? For in their own way they have brought out the lamps of goodwill and joy within themselves.

As Rabindranath Tagore said "Come deepa-wali waken hidden flames"/Out of the desolate dark/and offer a sympathy of praise/to eternal light. The stars are dimmed/The night is desolate/And the call comes from the deep/Man bring us your lamps."