VESAK MOON
By J. VIJAYA-TUNGA HOW different the Moon is in the tropical sky. She is native there. In cold skies she moves like a slave in a Roman triumph, tied to some ever-moving chariot, which gives her no halt. In the warm sky over my, land the Moon truly rides the heavens, exulta- tion in every inch of her progress through the transparent clouds that salute her as she moves on, pauseless, but unhurried.
The crescent Moon, rising early, setting early, is the Lover's Moon. The waning Moon is the Moon bent on her own secret errands, rising late and setting before we have risen for the day. The Full Moon is the Moon that is at the service of Man and Nature alike, and . takes delight in serving. Of the twelve Full Moons, the most glorious is the Full Moon of Vesak, our name for the month of May.
And those delightful chroniclers of old who wrote the chronicles of the Buddha made his day of birth, of death, of marriage, of renunciation, of becoming Buddha (He who has .complete Bodhi or Wisdom) and of attaining Nirvana, the Day of the Full Moon of Vesak. Which shows they were well qualified to be chroniclers.
And we in Urala, in common with millions of our ,eo-religionists observe this day in a spirit of happy Fervour that is more spiritual than religious. On this day we wake up earlier than usual, about four o'clock, or at the latest by five. In the sky there is still a silvered moon growing fainter at the approach of the Sun. On the grass the dew hangs on, aware of its last hour, all its vitality concentrated into tiny • balls of mercury, As the first rays of the sun cut through the morning air charging it with warmth, we bathe. Then we change into fresh laundered white cotton. The males in a cloth draped around the waist, falling soberly up to the ankles with a short . Cameesa for an upper, garment. The women dress in their usual style, cloth, and over-bodice, but of course in white cotton, with no trimmings. Nor is any jewellery worn. Both males and females wear a shoulder cloth which covers, the left shoulder. This is a special symbol of the special ritual we as good Buddhists are going to observe on this day. By this time the sound of temple bells and of temple drums cleave the air and make us impatient to start. Now at last we are ready. It is a big party. We have , the complete family of the Aunt-of-the-House-by-the- Road, her married daughter and husband and children, her other daughters and sons—so many in fact that we must not stop to count. My other aunts, with numerous other boys and girls and elders of both sexes that have joined us. Though none of us want to ride, we have our single-bullock cart accompanying us, carrying hampers of food, baskets of flowers, packets of candles and incense.
For our route is first the Vanduramba temple where we shall join the worshippers and be duly given Sit— the injunction of the Eight Precepts—and after that the temple at Lellvala, where there is a special Pinkanza.
We start. We all carry sprigs of Arecanut flower in our hands. Some are carrying whole basketfuls of various other flowers—Ruk, a rare, fragrant, jungle flower, yellow Rukatthana, next to the arecanut flower the favourite temple flower, lotus, white and red, collected by my uncle's enterprise from a lake in distant Udala mattha, and hibiscus and marigold and jasmine, and rose and gardenia, in fact almost every kind of available flower except those we use at our Devil Dances. On the road we meet more crowds. The whole landscape is full of white-clad people. The green of jungle, and coconut grove and rice-field receives little attention today and remains a mere back-ground.
The sun shines with full vigour now. And as we turn from the high-road into the steep path that leads to the Temple we turn back to gaze at the continual stream of worshippers still on the road on their way. What a crowd there is in the temple court-yard. Yet how gracefully they 'move, on softly-sounding bare feet over the sand-strewn court-yard. The Bhikku, or priest, radiating true joy, stands on the steps of the Vihara (the Image House). We all kneel down and the Bhikku recites one after another the Eight Precepts .which we repeat after him. The precepts enjoin us to refrain during the twenty-four hours of Sit from taking the life of living creatures, from stealing, from sexual indulgence, from lying, from alcohol and drugs, from the use of chairs or beds, from food between noon and sunrise, from the use of perfume, from witnessing any entertainment that indulges the senses.
Crowd after crowd surge towards the Bhikku, recite the Ana Sid and move off to offer flowers, burn incense and candle before the images, before the Dagoba, and around the sacred Bo Tree. After these rites some choose to remain at the temple, others go to other temples. We start on our way to the Lellvala Temple. A discourse by a famous Bhikku is in progress there as we arrive. We take our seats on the mats on the floor. After an hour the discourse comes to an end and we start on a repe- tition of the ritual before the various shrines of the temple., During intervals the Berava caste drum-beaters, gaily decked in ceremonial head-dress, jacket and sarong, perform special dances to the accompaniment of special temple tunes. The evening comes on without our being aware of it. The oil wicks and candles are lighted in surprisingly quick succession. And the Vesak Full Moon is there in the sky shedding its loveliest light on that con- course of people, over whom towers the white Dagoba. We join the throng of worshippers for the sunset re-recital Of the Eight Precepts, after which we move hither and thither lighting incense and candles before this shrine and that altar. We decide not to remain for the second and main discourse (Band, as it is called), for despite our vows, the mild pleasure of walking along the road' passing and being overtaken by streams of people is inviting. Moreover, we want to see the decorations and the hanging lamps along the road and also enjoy the sight of our own lamps back at home. All along the roads, the houses have hung Chinese paper lanterns and home-made bamboo lamps in clusters. We do not yet have to tilt back our heads to see the Moon, but we must raise our eyes, for the Moon is mounting, her vast orange rim cut across by the' branches of coconut palnis. As the Moon rises and keeps rising, she conjures up for us the scene in a thousand. temples where yellow-robed monks are sitting facing huge concourses of devout Buddhists as they sit cross-legged listening to an exposition that has not lost its freshness though it has been expounded with little variation during the course of twelve times two thousand Full Moon nights. We come out of the temple, somewhat subdued. We take the road back homewards. It is flanked on either side by rice-fields, for the village of Lellvala is at low level. Hardly a' yard of the road seems empty of people. There are hardly any shadows, so brilliant is .the MOon, and what shadows there are seem but shades against the Moon's brilliance. The carters do not light their lanterns on this night. They guide their carts along the palm-edged road by the light of the Moon. We reach home as the Chinese lanterns are burning away the last inch of their candles. We put no fresh candles in, but sit about and watch the Vesak Moon.
Previous page
