Seven blows of thunder

May seven blows of thunder come down from the sky is a Sinhala saying. But does it happen? This once told tale gives one instant where at least one thunder blew a person.

The head priest of the temple was watching the parade of villagers waking into the temple with keen eyes. Priest was curious as to what is going on. The villagers came closer and worshipped the priest, who murmured suvapath veva (may you be blessed).

"So tell me what brings all of you here?"

The leader of the group was a farmer. He spoke first.

"We have come here to see you after discussing something quite disturbing."

"I like to know all about that" said the high priest.

The leader of the group once again clasped his hands in veneration and said:

"The white colonial ruler who lives in that great big bungalow is creating havoc." Then he pointed his finger to the mansion on the hillock where the white colonial ruler and his wife, who was known as sudu nona lived. The leader continued to explain while the high priest listened eagerly.

"He kills our tuskers, Venerable. He kills them to get ivory tusks."

"Have you seen this by your own eyes?" Asked the high priest. Then they all said in once voice: "Yes Venerable."

The high priest entered a stream of pensive mood. The villagers felt that the priest should not be disturbed. Then came a moment when the high priest asked another question.

"Did you at any moment want the sudu mahattaya to kill the troublemaker tuskers?"

The villagers looked at each other's faces. They did not know what to say. They were still unanswerable, when the high priest said: "Answer my question, before I decide what to do!"

Then the leader said: "Oh Venerable from time to time we have been reporting matters to sudu mahattaya. We have told once that some elephants harm our crops."

"But that should not be the custom. Those tuskers are meant to be our wealth."

"This exactly is the point now that he kills elephants to get tusks."

"Oh I see the point."

The faces of the villagers who came to the temple shone with a sense of brightness.

"So what do you expect us to do?" The priest asked. "But we have never asked him to kill any elephant?"

"So I see that you are at fault, as you wanted to get rid of those troublemakers from your crops. But when a tusker is killed what do you do to the two tusks?"

"Sudu mahattaya takes them off as his possession."

"It's good if Venerable can speak to sudu mahattaya about this, so that he could put a stop to this elephant killing, despite the harm brought to us."

"Are you ready to see him with me?"

They all nodded in agreement.

The colonial ruler was walking up and down in his compound that lay before the mansion. He held his rifle in hand as a walking stick. When he heard the rustling sound he looked askance to see a yellow robed priest ascending the hilly path that stretched before the mansion. He stood still as they appeared.

The high priest of the village temple could speak a little English. He had been tutored by a Sinhala teacher who knew English as well. He approached and stood before the colonial ruler.

"Hamuduruwo?" said the ruler and wanted to know why he had come.

"I have a complaint to make. You should stop killing our elephants. They are sacred animals."

By this straight remark, the ruler was astounded. He felt the words like some piercing arrows. He looked round to see the faces of the retinue that had come with the Buddhist priest. But he wanted to be steadfast.

"Hamudurwo you cannot dictate terms to me. I am sent here by the governor to look after the interests of the people."

"You may look after yourself as long as you stay here. But I say that you should put a stop to elephant killing."

"I kill them as they bring harm to the people."

"No. They don't."

"They do. That's what these villagers say."

"Ask them. They don't like elephant killing."

"I know what I am expected to do. Mind your own business."

The priest got angry. He stomped his foot on the ground and said.

"You should stop killing elephants here onwards. If you don't, seven blows of thunder will shower on your head."

The ruler had nothing more to say. He tried to lift his rifle. The Buddhist priest turned back and descended the path.

The villagers followed him. Despite the utterances of the priest, the ruler wanted to go to the forest in order to kill a tusker.

Just as he stepped out of the house, dark clouds gathered in the sky. All of a sudden, lines of lightening appeared in the sky. Then came a roaring sound.

A thunderbolt swooped down and hit rifle barret, ejecting a glowing cluster of fire.

The blow too hard hit on the body of the rifle holder, the colonial ruler, who underwent a sudden death.

There is a number of variations to this tale. This one is what I heard from a villager.