Erabadu blossoms

by Aditha Dissanayake

Spring is here once again. After days and days of unbearable heat the rains have come.. rejuvenation!

The long, red petals of erabadu, like the painted nails of a beauty queen, have begun to open out in majestic glory, the kaju trees are heavy with fruit, the cry of the Koha dominates the chatter of squirrels, damsels dressed in traditional attire sing Unchili Varam (on TV), Aunts and Uncles recall the sound of cowries falling on coconut shells....

The swing and the cowrie. Who would have thought they have symbolic meanings? Yet, they do.

As with almost everything associated with the new year, according to Prof. Vinnie Vitharana the cowrie with which we play the game of chance, called Panchi , is a symbol of procreation while the swing represents the sun, which also swings from the east to the west, while the hearth, which is lit at an auspicious time, by the woman of the house, facing a prescribed direction, symbolizes the centre of life and nourishment in the household.

Now that robots are asking for human... (oops no) robot rights, now that babies are taken out of the mother's womb at pre-calculated auspicious times, now that people talk on cell-phones in much the same way Captain Kirk in Star Trek did a few decades ago... now that men have begun to dress like women, now that so many things have changed, why keep on celebrating the Sinhala Hindu New Year during April 13 and 14?

Elementary Watson. If you are a Buddhist or a Hindu it is unlikely that, however hard you may try, you will be able to ignore the fact that this is the time of the year when the sun enters the sign of Aries from the sign of Pisces and begins a new solar year and that, before he makes this auspicious transition, there comes a neutral period called Nonagathaya which is neither auspicious nor inauspicious.

The last meal has to be eaten before Nonagathaya begins, and all the pots and pans be washed. No food is cooked from then on, and no serious work is done. The New Year begins with the sound of crackers when the housewife lights the hearth for the first time after the Nonagathaya and when the white foam of milk spills over the new clay pot kept on the hearth.

Tradition demands that everything should be begun anew, with the hope that nothing will go wrong in the year ahead.

This include eating, bathing, spending money, beginning work and wishing each other a happy new year, the way Radha from Kerala, now settled down in Ho Chi Min city in Vietnam, says he does, by wishing 'a happy new year' in all the languages of his friends through e-cards.

As usual this year too, in Fort, Pettah and Maradana, the vendors selling apples, oranges, boxes of soap and hair ornaments on the pavements, are bound to disappear. They will be going home for the New Year.

But not V. Thyagaraj, an Auditor in Thalawakelle. When I ask him if he is going home this New Year, he says "No". A born optimist, he believes 'hope is a good thing' and says he knows in his heart of hearts, before he dies, he will go home for the new year...'perhaps next year, perhaps in another ten years'. "Home" to Thyagaraj means Jaffna.

Mrs. L. Bandara faces a different problem every new year. All her neighbours are Muslims. When they celebrate their festivals, they send her plates of Buriyani . During the Sinhala New Year she sends them plates filled with the traditional Sinhala sweetmeats.

"There are twenty-one families altogether. I think I'll be spending about Rs. 5,000 this year on the sweetmeats. A kevum , no bigger than the size of a cutlet costs Rs. 15.00" laments Mrs. Bandara. However expensive things would be she is determined to continue this tradition, as long as she lives.

Her nephew, Lakshana, however, thinks all these customs and rituals are bunkum. "They may have a meaning for farmers and others engaged in agriculture, but not for us. So, why should we bother with them?" His sister, Nilakshi thinks otherwise.

She believes it is silly to treat the 13th and the 14th as ordinary days. "They are special, if only because everybody is at home and it is only on the 13th of April that a time comes when you must not do anything, and it is not everyday that Amma switches on the rice-cooker at an auspicious time to make Kiribath".

Nilakshi is all set to observe as many of the rituals as possible within the confines of her home in a housing complex in Kelaniya.

After all, this is spring, the time of blue skies, flowers, fruits and sweets. One need not be a farmer to capture the spirit of spring. It is there, in the air, let it enter your heart. Begin life anew. Have a wonderful New Year.

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