Tag Archives: Mahindu

The Dagoba System – Anuradhapura

23 Feb
Entrance to Sri Jaya Maha - Anuradhapura (2010)

Entrance to Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi – Anuradhapura (2010)

Imagine a flat plain stretched out before you for miles with giant white and red mounds popping up like bubbles. That’s Anuradhapura — the fabled Buddhist kingdom and seat of Sinhalese power in Sri Lanka for more than a millenia. It was where Mahindu first met King Davanampiyatissa (Tissa) and quickly converted him to Buddhism and where Sanghamitta had replanted a sapling of the Bodhi tree which she had smuggled to Sri Lanka from India. This sapling then took root as the now over 2,000 year old Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi [See August 8, 2012 post: “Part I (Cont’d) – Tree” https://startupkoan.com/2012/08/08/part-i-contd-tree/]. Standing sentinel around Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi are the Dagobas — the huge mounds of brick and stone corralled meticulously into bulbous heaps of worship. I had come to Anuradhapura from Sigiriya and was dropped off in the modern section of the city.  My plan was to get a room at the Tissawewa Resthouse which was located in the far eastern part of the archaeological park and I decided to walk there. I thought I could use the huge Dagobas that rose before me in the distance as markers to guide me to the hotel — big mistake.  The area was much larger than represented on my guidebook map and since it was the late afternoon, there were not many people around. The heat cooked me thoroughly during my 1 hour of non-stop walking until I finally caught sight of something that looked like a hotel and I zeroed in on it.  It turned out to be a small monastery, but I found a guard there who pointed to where my hotel was. When I entered, the proprietor looked up at me with surprise. I had not reserved a room, but apparently there was no one else staying at the hotel. So, I must have been the first lodger she had seen in some time. I shuffled off to my room and as soon as I got inside I thew off my backpack, pried apart the mosquito netting, and collapsed on the bed. I had to get off my feet which felt like they were on fire. I was staying for 3 nights and with the bike I was able to rent from the hotel, I would have easy access to all the wondrous sights of Anuradhapura — a place where at one time in history the world’s largest Buddhist kingdom had existed. It seemed like I had it all to myself.

Thuparama Dagoba - Anuradhapura

Thuparama Dagoba

The oldest of the Dagobas in Anuradhapura is also one of the smallest. It is called Thuparama. King Tissa built Thuparama in the 3rd century BC soon after his conversion by Mahindu. Inside Thuparama, Tissa encased a relic of the Buddha which he had received from the Emperor Ashoka as a gift.  This relic is thought to be a piece of the Buddha’s collarbone. Thuparama sits like a bell and there are stone pillars which still stand around it. These pillars most likely supported a wooden roof around Thuparama. The bell-shape design of Thuparama has served as the archetype for countless dagobas, shrines, and pagodas throughout the Buddhist world.

Ruwanwelisaya Dagoba

Ruwanwelisaya Dagoba

After King Tissa’s, the next king, Dutugamanu, began the next phase of expansion at Anuradhapura. In 140BC, he built Ruwanwelisaya Dagoba which was 100m (33oft) tall and enclosed within its chamber were other relics of the Buddha, gems, gold, and statues. Some schools of Sri Lankan Buddhism believe that when the Maitreya (Future Buddha) returns, this chamber  inside Ruwanwelisaya will be opened and the new age of enlightenment will be ushered and the ignorance and suffering of today will be swiftly washed away. In the centuries after its construction, parts of the Dagoba were destroyed and burned at the hands of marauding armies from the north. But, the core base of the Dagoba has always remained intact and each time it was attacked, the Dagoba rose gain.

Mirisavatiya Dagoba

Mirisavatiya Dagoba

The last great Dagoba which King Dutugamanu built at Anuradhapura was Mirisavatiya Dagoba. The story goes that Dutugamanu carried a sceptre with him which had a bone of the Buddha encased in an orb at the top.  One day when Dutugamanu was scouting a location for construction of his new Dagoba, he accidentally fell and his sceptre flew out of his hands and landed in a pond. Dutugamanu took this as a sign that Mirisavatiya had to be built atop this pond and so the pond was dredged and diverted into a water tank. Mirisavatiya was then constructed over the site of where the sceptre had come to lay. The 2 most enormous Dagobas at Anuradhapura are also the ones most in need of repair. These are Abhyagiri Dagoba which was built in 88BC and has a height of 110m (370 ft), and Jetavanaram which was built in 275AD and was originally over 12om (400ft) tall.

Abhyagiri Dagoba

Abhyagiri Dagoba

IMG_0807

Jetavanaram Dagoba

Abhhyagiri’s brick interior is now exposed and crumbling and somehow bushes and other vegetation have started to grow near the top of the Dagoba. Similarly, the sikhara/spire at the top of Jetavanaram is broken, but at the time Jetavanaram was first built it was the world’s 3rd largest manmade structure behind 2 of the pyramids of Giza. The scars these 2 giant Dagobas bear fade into the background because of the magnitude of ingenuity and painstaking awe of their physical construction. Millions of bricks and other stones had to be quarried, stomped into shape by elephants, and then layered and fused into concentric bands which rose higher than anything else around the land. They are mountains made by human hands and dwarf everything else around them.

"A Man & His Horse" rock carving at Isurumuniya Rock Temple - Anuradhapura

“A Man & His Horse” rock carving at Isurumuniya Rock Temple – Anuradhapura

On my last day at Anuradhapura, I went back to Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi and sat under a quiet corner where one of the great Tree’s branches covered me in the shade. I’ve previously recounted this moment in my prior post “Part I (Cont’d) – Tree“. What I would like to add is that as I gazed up at the Tree, I was also struck by this — as amazing as the Dagobas of Anuradhapura are — their immense size, symbol of spiritual loftiness, and engineering brilliance — they are ultimately each dormant teets. They have no milk — meaning they do not themselves provide sustenance to the community of monks and people who now live in Anuradhapura. It is the Tree which gives meaning to what Anuradhapura once was and continues to be today. It gives meaning to what these Dagobas represent. The Tree connects the past to the present and the present to the future. Its leafy branches billowed over my head as they were nudged by a passing wind. I turned my head so it went along with the wind and I was intensely aware that I was facing east. Sinhalese sailors used the same winds for their trade routes long ago. I had an idea of where I was headed next.

Out of India [South – The Doctrine of the Elders]

27 Oct

Gangaramaya Temple – Colombo, Sri Lanka (2010)

In May 2009, the 30-year-old civil war that had been waged in Sri Lanka effectively ended with the killing of Velupillai Prabhakaran – the leader of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). The Tamils are a largely Hindu minority in Sri Lanka who live in the north and northeast of the country, and in the early 1980s, a militant, separatist group led by Prabhakaran. The LTTE or Tamil Tigers employed various terrorist-like tactics (including the use of vest-wearing female suicide bombers) in an effort to gain independence from the Buddhist Sinhalese majority. I visited the country in June/July 2010 and was intrigued by how such a bloody armed conflict could have gone on as long as it had within a predominantly Buddhist nation. It seemed like the last vestige of the Dharma must have been cast out because otherwise how could any devout Buddhist sanction the killing of another person? I grappled with this question from the moment I landed in Sri Lanka’s capital city, Colombo. I had taken an overnight flight to Colombo from Dubai and the contrast between the dry, desert landscape and sultry, tropical blanket that covered me when I first stepped outside could not have been more extreme.  I flagged down a taxi and began the long drive to Colombo. There was no highway or expressway at that time which linked Colombo to Bandaranaike Airport, and instead, we were just on a sinewy, congested 2-lane road.  But, this drive gave me my first insight into the omnipresent nature of the Buddhist faith in Sri Lanka.  I saw may small shrines, temples, and monuments along the way. At one point, my cab driver stopped at a light that was near a road-side Buddhist shrine and did a quick, respectful prayer before the light turned green and we drove away. There were only small windows into the tangible pulse of Sri Lanka’s Buddhist heart.

Buddha statues – Gangaramaya Temple

Sri Lanka is an island that hangs like a teardrop in close proximity to India’s southernmost point. Yet, despite this proximity, the visual and cultural impact of Sri Lanka more closely brings to mind the look and feel of Southeast Asia and not the Indian subcontinent. Part of the reason for this is that the dominant Buddhist school that took hold in most of Southeast Asia was the Theravada tradition — the “Doctrine of the Elders”.  Sri Lanka was the petri dish in which Theravada was cultivated, groomed, and then exported abroad. In Bodh Gaya (India), I had learned the story of Princess Sanghamitta who had saved a cutting of the sacred Bodhi Tree which she then brought to her brother, Mahindu, who was a Buddhist monk already spreading the Dharma in Sri Lanka. I thought I would be seeing old sites tied to a Buddhist tradition that was likely no longer relevant or integrated into the everyday life of Sri Lankans. I thought the sangha or community of monks and laity had been weakened or marginalized by years of strife, war, and thirst for material possessions, the internet, and etc.  I could not be more wrong. What I found instead was an incredibly vibrant, active brand of Buddhism that provided a social infrastructure for lay people, monks, families, and other individuals of all walks of life to have a role in sustaining the Dharma — whether through giving alms, performing rituals, conducting parades and ceremonies, or undertaking pilgrimages to holy sites on the island.

Relief on outside wall of Gangaramaya showing Mara tempting the Buddha

The great surprise of Sri Lanka is that in the midst of its core Buddhist culture and tradition are various colorful odds and ends– remnants of Portuguese colonization such as striking Catholic churches and surnames, tea estates formerly owned by the British who supplanted the Portuguese with their own Anglican Tudor-designed churches and the Tamils they brought to Sri Lanka to work the tea plantations, and sprinkled here and there are mosques and calls to prayer in Arabic. The island took me on an immensely satisfying journey — both physically and spiritually — where I worked my way down to the south and then circled back up through the Hill Country, on to Sri Lanka’s cultural center, and finally up to its northern plains and ancient past. There is such radical contrast in the terrain and atmosphere in this small country. In the southern point of the island lays the colonial town of Galle and there stands an old Portuguese fortress with large sea-walls which held back the waves of the 2004 tsunami — although many people died around Galle and in the other low-lying areas of the southern Sri Lankan coast. But, things began for me first in Colombo where I had come to see the Gangaramaya Temple and the Kelaniya Raja Maha Vihara Dagoba (“Dagoba” being the Sinhalese word for Stupa) which marks the spot where the Buddha spoke during a visit he had made to the island. Both sites were remarkably active with streams of people and pilgrims pouring in and out, praying, sitting in contemplation, and performing rites. On the outside of the Gangaramaya Temple, there are very detailed reliefs which vividly depict stories from the life of the Buddha. These reliefs are all found on one large exterior wall of Gangaramaya and this wall itself looks like 2 large, gilded doors which reminded me of Ghiberti’s “Gates of Paradise” (the Renaissance-era doors created on the eastern side of the Baptistry of St. John in Florence). Ghiberti’s doors contain reliefs showing the story of Adam and Eve and other stories from the Old Testament, and that same kind of snapshot storytelling was impeccably conveyed in the reliefs found on Gangaramaya’s outside wall. From Colombo, I set off for the Hill Country. I hopped a train at Colombo Fort railway station and soon rose from the coast to the hills where I was surrounded by rolling greenery and tea bushes. When the sunlight hit these bushes and a wind rustled them slightly, they would flicker like gold. It was the monsoon season and I was headed to a sacred mountain. A mountain that I was intending to scale despite being told that no one — not even the most devout pilgrims — climbed the mountain during the time of the monsoon. I was unmoved. I would do the climb — not because it was there — but because I had to. It was a calling.

Part I (Cont’d) – Tree

8 Aug

The Emperor Ashoka ruled much of the Indian subcontinent in the 3rd century BC. He had consolidated his kingdom and dynasty through many brutal wars. He was a destroyer. But, after one particularly horrific battle where he was left alone to survey the carnage of rotting corpses, burnt villages, and destruction he and his army caused, he had an awakening. He was disgusted at what he had done and how meaningless it all was. At that moment, he felt a warmth come over him and he swore he would change his life. Buddhism had taken hold of much of the subcontinent during the 200 years since the Buddha had passed. The Sangha had grown and become strong. This community filled many parts of Ashoka’s kingdom and so Ashoka sought out the Buddhist monks in his midst. He converted to Buddhism and adopted the Buddha’s teachings as his own. Going forward, he would live his life and root his kingdom and legacy in the name of the Buddha and practice only non-violence and tolerance. He had two children from his first wife – a son called Mahindu and a daughter named Sanghamitta – whose name meant “friend of the Sangha.” His two children would devote their lives to Buddhism and Ashoka himself set out to visit the key sites of the Buddha’s life: Lumbini, the Bodhi Tree at Magadha, the deer park where the Buddha gave his first sermon, and Kushinigar.

Bodhi Tree – Bodh Gaya

When Ashoka came to Magahda he saw the Bodhi Tree and he placed a grey sandstone slab under it to mark the spot where the Buddha had sat. Then, Ashoka commissioned the building of the original Mahadabodhi Temple. Ashoka loved the serenity of the forest and spent many days and nights sitting and sleeping under the Bodhi Tree. Legend has it that he spent so much time with the Tree that his wife became jealous. This jealousy drove her to the point where she poisoned the Tree and it rotted and decayed. Other traditions say that the Tree was toppled during a battle Ashoka had with another warring tribe who had sought to claim the forest and the remnants of the Magadha kingdom. We may not know what exactly happened to that original Bo Tree, but we do know that the young Princess Sanghamitta understood the importance of the Tree and was able to save a small cutting or sapling from the Tree after it had been felled. Fearing any reprisals from her mother or Ashoka’s enemies, she hid the small shoot in her long hair and took surreptitious care of it. Her brother, Mahindu, had already become a Buddhist monk and begun a mission to the south of the subcontinent — even as far as to the island nation of what is today, Sri Lanka. Sanghamitta was determined to take the cutting of the Tree to where her brother was since she knew the Tree would be safe there. She traveled under the cover of night from village to village until she reached the end of the subcontinent. From there, she took a boat and sailed to the northern tip of Sri Lanka. The cutting of the Tree was kept in a golden vase during the crossing from India to Sri Lanka. Once she reached Sri Lanka an advanced guard of King Tissa met her and they took her to the royal capital of Anuradhapura where Mahindu had successfully passed on the Buddha’s teachings to an eager people. Mahindu himself had taken to living in a rock cave just outside of Anuradhapura. (Little did I know while I was reading this story at Bodhi Gaya about Mahindu, a year later I would be fumbling [barefoot again] down a ravine while getting followed by dubious looking dogs as I tried to find this rock cave. It was off a plateau now called Mihintale about 13km away from Anuradhapura in Sri Lanka. A “mango tree” dagoba had also been built on the top of this plateau marking the location where Mahindu had first met King Tissa. A very holy site for Sri Lanka Buddhists).

Rock Cave of Mahindu – Mihintale, Sri Lanka

Mahindu traveled to Anuradhapura to meet his sister there and she gave him the vase with the sapling. Then, during an elaborate ceremony, Mahindu, Sanghamitta, King Tissa, members of the royal family, and other monks planted the tree in an elevated mound. This all took place in the 3rd century BC. For more than 2000 years afterwards, this sapling grew and was taken care of by successive members of the royal family and the monks who lived in Anuradhapura up to the present time. What happened next was that centuries later when the original Tree in Bodh Gaya was toppled again by an invading army, the Buddhist order in Anuradhapura took a sapling from their tree – reverentially called Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi – and replanted it in Bodhi Gaya at the same site where the original Tree had sprouted. But, this Tree also was toppled and then in the late 19th century, the British viceroy or whatever who had control of th Bihar province had a new Bo Tree planted. It was this Tree that I saw in 2009. Although it was young (under a 150 years old), it was still mighty and massive with history. But, as I read the story about Sanghamitta I knew I would have to travel to Anuradhapura and see Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi. And in 2010, I was in Anuradhapura — an electrifying plain strewn with enormous, bubble-shaped Dagobas which I will detail later — but first it was the Tree. The Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi Tree is the oldest “human tended” tree in the world. The monks in Anuradhapura have meticulous records of how generation after generation their order has taken care of the Tree. There were golden shrouds tied around knobby elbows of the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi and various metal braces were placed around the tree in order to hold up and spread the weight of its lumbering branches. I had never seen such tender upkeep of any non-human being before. There were many pilgrims and lay people walking around the tree and praying in the covered shrines built around the tree. There was a rotating wheel of activity like being in a fair or carnival.

Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi Tree – Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka (2010)

I sat in a corner of the Tree complex and was covered by the shade of one of Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi’s large, leafy branches. I clearly remember the feeling I had of just how insignificant my own life was. I had the life span of a gnat in the eyes of this Tree. No question about that. There was something undeniably supernatural about being in the presence of another living thing that was over 2 millennia old. When I thought back to Bodh Gaya, the connection this Tree had to the Buddha himself, and the journey the Tree had made with Sanghamitta to get to this place – it was almost too much to comprehend. Every culture or religion has its share of myths and legends that sustain and define its identity. The Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden has been passed on by tradition as bearing forbidden fruit. The Bodhi Tree was just the opposite – it was a catalyst that led to the receipt of complete Knowledge in the case of the Buddha. The Tree was then an object to be revered and celebrated. Here, before me was its 2,200+ year old descendant. It had been cared for by the Sangha and would likely live on for another millennia, or until the Sangha was no more. Would there still be a Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi without the Sangha’s care? Would the Sangha have still been able to be as strong as it was in Anuradhapura without something tangible like the Tree to motivate it and stay true to the Buddha’s teaching? The two’s destinies had been intertwined. Each needed the other, but if either was to over-indulge on their attachment to the other, then there would be conflict and loss of purpose. As I stood up and was ready to leave the Tree complex, I noticed a few twigs and leaves that must have fallen from Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi. I picked up a couple of them and put them in my bag. I guess I needed to stay attached to this experience in some way. I had done the same thing at Bodh Gaya the year before. Back to Bodh Gaya then. From there, I set out like the Buddha had to the deer park.

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