In the Dhamma I take refuge
by Jeannette Cabraal
 A gentle late-evening breeze,
wafted across the valley, as the Dasa Sil Mathawo in their saffron robes
and with shaven heads walked sedately, one behind the other, carrying in
their cupped hands, jasmines, hendrikka, araliya and idda, which they
had gathered from the plants, they grew in the compound of their abode,
for the purpose, reciting.
"This mass of flowers fresh-hued odorous and choice."
I offer at the sacred lotus-like feet of the Noble One." With slow
steps and bent heads they wended their way, to the shrine under the Bo
tree, to make their daily offerings and spend a few minutes in
meditation as the sun went down. Every now and then the younger ones in
the group would turn round, concerned about their elderly feeble
sisters, who lagged behind; sometimes stopping to help them over a
difficult patch of ground.
Their abode nestled in the valley, not far from Mihintale. Every
evening as they trekked, to the little shrine under the Bo tree, several
yards away, they saw. Mihintale silhouetted against the darkening sky.
In this serene setting they experienced the tranquility and peace of
mind they sought away from the madding crowd.
However, today it was different. The crowds had already gathered at
Mihintale for the Poson Poya. More poured in on the full moon day from
various parts of the island to commemorate the birth of Buddhism in Sri
Lanka.
The place was silhouetted against the backdrop of the night sky, to
more advantage, as the annual lights sprang up, to mark the occasion.
This was one spectacle the Sil Mathawo never grew tired of witnessing.
Illuminated Mihintale brought tears to their eyes, and peace to their
hearts.
On Poson full moon day they spent the day at Mihintale where
religious observances were held.
 They looked forward to it. More so Somawathie Mathawa who was fairly
advanced in years and for whom Poson poya had a special significance. It
was on a Poson day that she had decided to dedicate the rest of her
life, in this manner.
She had chosen a way of life, away from it all in this secluded
abode, after having performed the duties as wife and mother. Her husband
had died years ago and she had struggled to bring up her children.
The effort had been worth it, for now they were all settled and she
had nothing more to wish for, but to spend her last years in
tranquility. Her four children, were fairly well off, for they too had
made the Great Trek to the Middle East. In fact, two of her sons, were
still making the shekel over there. But she did not want to be a burden
to them.
Hence the choice of this way of life. It was she, who had requested
the little boys from the village down in the valley, to get her some
lotus blooms for Poson.
They had readily obliged and a pailful of lotuses awaited to be
offered at the ceitya. She would offer lotuses every year and pray for
blessing on her children.
"Visible invisible too
Those dwelling near or far away
The born and those
Yet seeking birth
May every being live happily"
She had no ill-will towards her children, no rancour, no regrets.
Somawathie Mathawa hobbled along. She felt unaccountably distracted
by thoughts of her children. An overpowering longing to see them, just
once more, came over her, even though, when she joined the band of Dasa
Sil Mathawo she sought no other refuge but the Dhamma.
This craving rather distressed her. A younger sister slowed down her
pace and interrupted her train of thought Maniyo is something wrong?"
No! no Duwe you proceed. I'll walk on slowly," she said. But the younger
one fell in step with her, for she sensed that all was not right with
the other.
They reached the shrine and set about performing the usual rites.
Somawathi offered the flowers cupped in her hands.
"Lo! These flowers are now of colour, beautiful, of scent sweet; of
shape lovely.
But soon they will become discoloured
Malodorous and unlovely
So too all component things-
They pass away
Are pain-laden and all things in nature
Without exception are soul-less
May this tend to extinguish all craving
May there be release from all suffering"
 She felt tired as she seated herself with difficulty, stretched out
her legs and leaned against a post. Solicitous inquiries by the others
were brushed away as she gave herself up to meditation.
"Uncertain is life
Certain is death
Without a shadow of doubt I must die
My life has death for its goal
Life indeed is precious
But sure indeed is death!"
One of the Mathawo's, noticing Somawathie bathed in sweat and of an
unusual pallor seated herself by Somawathie who was muttering.
"Soon alas the body
Upon the earth must lie
Looked down upon,
Mind bereft
E'en as a cast off torch."
Away in the distance, the lights of Mihintale sprang up on, this eve
of Poson. As the night shades began to fall, the tranquillity emanating
from the image of the Enlightened One seemed to mingle with the
surroundings. Gently Somawathie Mathawa leaned against her companion,
turning her head in the direction of the illuminated profile of
Mihintale, and after a long, lingering gaze closed her eyes. |
