Anuradhapura, where words have failed

Spending a day in Anuradhapura, confined to a hotel room because of the non-stop rain, I tried to recall all that has been written about Anuradhapura.

Descriptions. Words in Sinhala or English have not been sufficient to describe the feeling of peace, serenity, joy and the confidence we feel in ourselves as we walk into the shade of the sacred Bodhi tree.

Words have failed to describe how one feels the soothing breeze, the faint rustle of the leaves, the scent of the flowers and incense as they all mingle with the prayers and chants of the devotees, amid the cry of an infant. Words have also failed to tell us how the sacred tree affects our body and mind and how the collective feelings of all the devotees affect each one, individually.

We try to picture the Samadhi statue as it would have stood in the shady gardens of the Abhayagiri monastery complex in ancient Anuradhaura. But everything that is available for us to read only says that this is one of the greatest creations in sculpture as it shows the true Buddha. None of these descriptions helps us picture the Buddha as shown by this statue before the paint faded away, before the face was damaged and before the nose was repaired.

Since we do not have photographs or true paintings from the Anuradhapura period and we have to depend totally on the written word today we have no way of knowing how this city would have looked then, with hundreds of acres covered by the Jetawanarama and Abhayagiri Monasteries, how the majestic stupa rose over the vanaspathi trees and the palaces and pirivenas. We have no way of visualizing the true beauty of the city reflected in the Nuwaraweva or Tissaweva. Any descriptions we have are either too exaggerated or too distorted, we are unable to sift the grit from the grain. Most of the time we cannot even see the grain.

What the written records do not show us is how men and women toiled in the construction of the city, the tanks, the stupa and the palaces. We cannot feel their pain, smell their sweat and blood or hear the cry of their children. We are not aware if these people worked willingly, if they were happy with the contribution they were making, or if they were driven by whips and rods.

From this dismal room in the hotel, through the sound of water dripping from the gutters, when I try to visualize the ancient glory of Anuradhapura all I can bring to mind is what I have seen on previous visits and not what I have read.

When the rain eased off for a while we went to the Abhayagiri museum. All the exhibits had brief descriptions, but none could match what Anula explained to us as she walked around with us and she answered our questions. We had no way to interact with the impersonal words on the labels by the exhibits. We were fortunate that it was a weekday and raining, so Anula, the official attached to the Museum, could take her time to talk to us.

There were no school kids because it was exam time and also probably because the entrance fees for children had gone up from Rs 5 to 10.

We have classed our past into a pre-history and a history. By pre-history we identify the period of our past which does not have a written or recorded history. But do the written records do justice to our past, to the people who lived in the past, and to their creations, to their discoveries and their humanity?

In a way we could say that there is more evidence about how people lived in the pre-historic times than of the times after man began keeping written records. These written records were almost totally about kings, religious, political and military leaders. Our recorded histories are mostly about human beings who killed each other and how less civilized people always destroyed great civilizations.

What is recorded is always accepted as true, unlike oral comments which just could blow away with the wind.

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
(FitzGerald translation)

Omar Khayyam wrote a 1000 years ago. So we are stuck with the written or recorded word, be they true or false, till as long as man continues as an intelligent creature.

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