The quest for the stoic stone

Reviewed by: Carl Muller

It was, to me, the opportunity of a lifetime. I held in my hands one of the most beautifully written stories of that meaningful search for the ultimate treasure that would banish all ignorance, all self, all suffering and delusion.

I have never read such a passionately-worded story of the making of the Buddha, the Sakya Gautama, who had neither chart nor map to lead his steps to renunciation and the light of future stars.

Manu Gunasena has shown us how such a story could rise out of the pulsing kingdom of a prince who would not remain a prince. I have dipped into many accounts of this story, but they have always become a parade of repetition The marvellous birth of this singular man among men, his dogged search for spiritual illumination, the six years of his striving and his enlightment. It needs so much that is special to tell of it. As you see, this book consists of but 130 pages but every page seems to be so gem-studded - a flaring record that brings to us the supreme purpose of the prince’s quest; his determination to achieve liberation from this cycle of life, death, and rebirth, to enter the timeless state, free of craving and suffering. Even as he entered this world, the Udumbara tree put forth its blooms, telling us that truly had a Buddha been born.

What is particularly enchanting is the magical way Gunasena has introduced the verses that are so necessary. I must give you extracts:

Pleasures that filled his world with mirth

seemed illusory and bare;

If that were sorrow’s iron bar

he determined to find the flaw

that stained mankind’s welfare.

He would defy the fates and strive

to transcend life’s inherent strife.

...Now he’d seen death, the final scourge.

The hour had struck to launch his search.

A surge of love for man compelled

him seek the truths concealed.

His quest, he knew, with rising hopes,

lay in the steps of the one in robes

His search couldn’t wait the morrow,

now nothing would intrude:

To stir his will, his pledge fulfill,

renounce the world: the truth distill.

The sheer rhapsody of prose makes this book something very precious even to me, a non-Buddhist. But will any label, anything I plaster on my forehead, matter? Even Gunasena tells us that he follows all religions, for he believes that just as all rivers flow to the sea and merge as one with the great waters, all the streams of faith, however varied they may be, must finally unite and merge as one. It is this breath of understanding and acceptance that adds such glorious rays of light to the manner in which the book is assembled - and when the prince makes his final renouncement, we hear his lines:

I go, for my great purpose holds,

to reach for the furthest strands

of human thought; and delve so bold

in unknown realms, undreamt lands

I go to scour that distant shore...

to find why sorrow brands

all life on earth, from birth to birth...

I cannot truly tell of the moving spirit of this book. It weaves a spell of its own, but above all, one sees a writer for whom faith lies above all else. It is the sincerity, the passion, a recognition of a force like no other. He does not balk in the telling of the great quest. It is a learning trajectory that makes the unknowable knowable. Gunasena has to be honest - honest enough to say that even the prince could not do it all alone. There was the great sage Agasti, and when he came to the ashram, he had to keep learning:

“First forget everything you have learnt so far. Leave the baggage of your conditioning at the entrance to this sanctuary and enter in complete ignorance. Forget everything you know. Only then will you be a fit receptacle to receive, unfettered, the collected wisdom of the ages...”

These do not become setbacks, but great strides forward - the rising of the Kundalini, the higher levels of consciousness, the unfolding of the lotus of purity, the dazzle of the Third Eye, the finite knowledge of an infinite world - and he still had to attain the ultimate.

Could starvation to death be the way - that last lap? No, even that was too extreme. What then? And he began to walk the path between pleasures and penances, alone, unaided, unguided, all reliance on himself and came to where the great rivers met... but there only lay at his feet a placid stream of consciousness: another dimension. It was the path of all wanting - the Middle Path, and it a majestic junction the Four Noble Truths bloomed.

And yet, all he asked, even as the gods bowed in reverence around him, was that each of us be allowed to probe and question the truth of his teachings and that each follow his own path of liberation.

It is this story - each word a heart throb, that the author has given us. One sees the worshipful stance he has taken, the sheer lyricism of his lines. They pour with a richness that makes us, deep inside, one with the prince he reveres.

Vijitha Yapa Publications has chosen well. This book must be in the hands of every middle school student, in every school library, even become a part of the schools’ religious teaching. It tells us that the crest-gems of faith can be rendered in scintillating English to also meet the interests of every tourist and traveller to this land. I offer Manu Gunasena my most sincere congratulations.

Getting down to the brass tacks of poetry

by Carl Muller

To Asoka Palliyaguruge there is no real need to float around on gossamer dream clouds and wrap rainbows around emotions. She gets down to the simple “unaffected naturalness” [as Kalakeerthi Ashley Halpe says] and seems to tell her readers, “I’m with you. Let’s not all get caught up in rose apple pretensions and pennants of dawnlight and all that jazz. Let’s think of the brass tacks, even tin tacks of life. Let’s talk about everyday things”

And this is just what this most endearing collection offers. Many a time have I read her poems in the newspapers. They were a delightful change, for I could see that she just let her words flow and never seemed to get entangled with all those so-called highfaluting lines that are believed to adorn and glamourise. She brings reality to sit with reason and prefers a twinkle of humour to downright starchiness.

Forty poems confront you and she even tells us that our culinary inventions: Angels and Devils on Horseback, Dressed Chicken, Toad-in-the-Hole, Welsh Rarebit, Hot Dogs, Black Forest Gateau, Charlotte Russe, and Bloody Mary are great pretenders. Good grief! Put all that into you and you’ll end up with Galloping Indigestion! Oysters and Bacon are “angel” fare. Prunes and Bacon the choice of the “devil”and hey! What gives? Must you come in a banian and hitched-up sarong to eat Dressed Chicken? Heavens to Betsy! The chicken is more elegantly dressed! And is a Black Forest a place to produce a Gateauand there’s no blood in Bloody Mary who, incidentally, is not pounding the pavement swinging her very short skirt. She is the tail of a cock and you have to get her to taste good with tomato juice!

Yes, Asoka likes to have fun, and she listens to everyone, everything around her, framing lightning responses to domestic questions.

Children always like to decipher things and words can confuse. In her second poem, brother and sister may agree that to be simultaneous is to have two occurrences at the same time. You’ll find out why the son calls his mother “simultaneous”.

Now I’m not going to keep giving you chunks of her poems. Come on, it’s only 300 bucks, so go, get a copy. You’re in for a treat. Have you wondered why it seems socially acceptable to permit slums to rise alongside the homes of the stinking rich? Mind, the accepted term is “stinking” rich! Perhaps, as she hazards, the rich smell absorbs the poor slum smell! Also figure out what she has to say about figures. Hmm, is 28-18-36 of any relevance?

She can be very conscious of where lines should be drawn, and her lines accepting death are philosophical and so is her concept of truly living and giving and reminds that so many are unaware of that inner rhythm the woman, especially, who bears more burdens. This thought is expanded in her seventh poem titled “Endurance” and the “cart” is still to be dragged.

The difference must always be there but, as she says, hopefully, woman is not longer chained to the kitchen and nor does she drag a chain of pots and pans along like Marley’s ghost. Its funny how the “slugs and snails and puppy-dogs’ tails” still believe in their superiority!

Her words, in construction, could also raise a smile. We have such a “pressing” need for a press that will impress. She gets quite defiant.

She calls for a press that will not compress truth, depress readers, express lies and then presses on regardless of who it deceives.

Her mood changes are also startling. One begins to see in Asoka a kind of “all-poet” ready to take on anything and everything. Death brings an end to all pain, does it not? And as for our barbecued chops and kebabs and roast pork and lamb and steaks, there rises that primitive streak in us despite our put-on show to declare how civilized we are.

I think I will leave the rest to you. It may be that death, departure, is a theme that dusts little sequins to this collection, but these are not paens of sorrow but tell of a promising hereafter. And nor will she let the vile and the ugly bypass her. In parting I give you her lines, telling of the “Devadattas” who plundered the dead and the dying when the seas rushed in:

It swept ashore like a demon of wrath,

Entwining with its many-pronged tongue,

The young and old, the frail and strong,

Sparing none,

When the sea ceased to growl and all was still,

Vultures swooped down,

In the guise of saviours, hoodlums arose,

[tearing] valuables

from the dead, dying, or those breathing still.

What can one say? Wasn’t this also the land of a demon king?

Another set of Buddhist books by Sriya

Sriya Rathnakara, journalist, author and translator released her latest series of children’s books, Same series in both the languages, English and Sinhala.

Like her earlier works, Sriya has adopted a few interesting incidents which delineate the Biography of The Buddha. The series, Taming of Nalagiri or Nalagiri Damanaya are based on the records of incident that took place over the plot hatched by Devadatta to take revenge on The Buddha.

Children of The Buddha and Budunge Pihita Labu Daruvo comprise eight short stories depicting the episodes where the Buddha helped the helpless children like Sopaka, Suneetha, Poorna, Rajjumala, woodcutter’s son and weaver girl who were in deep troubles. Few other stories in this book portray occurrences in which the Buddha showed the misled children the correct path for the light and serenity.

‘Bade Amaruwata Mee Amba Yusha Saha Pani Hakuru’ is based on the incident when small Rahula Thera treated his mother, Yashodara Bhikkuni who fell ill with a terrible stomach ailment by giving her medicine.

All these noble stories are written using simple language (both Sinhala and English) for a child to absorb the virtuous messages easily, and with eye catching, vibrant, colourful diagrams that appropriately blend with it.

Rathnakara was Lanka’s first woman editor of a women’s tabloid Vanitha Vitti of the then Times Newspaper Group in 1958. She was also the Editor of Shree magazine of the Davasa Newspapers from 1963 to 1990. She has written and published more than 50 books in both languages - Buddhist Jathaka stories for children, a few novels and short stories depicting the characters found in the Buddha’s life story, and a number of translations of the world famous books like Little Women, Plague and Ugly American.

-Lakmal