The glory that was lost in history—journey to Seethawaka

The year was 1593. King Rajasinghe I, tempestuous by the defeat he had just faced with Konappu Bandara (later King Wimaladharmasuriya I) was on his way to the royal palace when he stopped to take a rest at the Pethangoda Royal Park. The thoughts of rebellions in the up country haunted him as he was taking steps in a melancholic sway. Exactly four centuries later, there we were standing on the very ground, beside the remains of what was once a glorious royal park with panoramic views of the grandeur landscape, geared up to begin our journey to explore the glorious history of the Seethawaka Kingdom.

After a jarring ride on the uneven road, we got to ‘Pethangoda Bamboo Trees’ only remains of the pleasance, where two thick bamboo groves  build an archway bringing a mysterious yet forlorn shade to the vicinity. According to the historical legend it is said that a splinter from this which pierced into the king’s foot turned fatal thus making it the place where the great warrior left his final mark. There is however another chronicle that the king’s demise was due to a cobra bite.

Pethangoda BambooTrees (Katu Una)

Having completed years of research about the Kingdom of Seethawa, it is the conception of K. P. Yasapala, co-author of ‘Seethewaka Pura Yugaya’ and a dedicated historian that the king’s demise was in fact due to a cobra bite which occurred at the same venue. “The narrative of the bamboo splinter is a cover up to hide the real reason since it was conspiracy executed by ‘Dodampe Ganithaya’—an astrologer of the castle to assassinate the king,” He further explained that horse manure and cow dung was kept on the wound to fasten the spread of the venom thus resulting the death of King Rajasighe I.

Bidding farewell to the pleasance, our next stop was the dwelling of ‘King of Lions” (Rajasinghe) identified at Bandarawaththa along Awissawella- Panawala road. Part of the land today, houses the Regional Archeology Office of Awissawella. Minuscule moulds of the solid historic Sri Lankan architecture have begun to surface with temporarily halted excavations due to bad weather. The scenery of the site waiting for its secrets lost in history and time, to be unraveled was extremely blissful with its labels and marked grounds of excavation.

Under the remains of the Dutch Fort, ruins of elements of the Sinhalese constructions lied subtly paving way for the revelation of the former splendor of the royal palace. Officials in charge of the excavation, Janaki Biyanwila and H. M. S. K. Eragama walked us through the site explaining the significance of the excavated ground. “We assume that this is the location of the royal palace on the basis of the discovery of remains of Sinhalese constructions underneath the constructions of the fort” said Mr. Eragama explaining, the Portuguese had built the fort using remains of the palace. 

Mr. Eragama further pointed out that the location made an ideal site for the palace concerning the geographical situation of the site where it could get a clear vista of the surrounding. Thus it provides security and the Dutch could not have selected a better place. “They simply destroyed the palace and built their fort over it using bricks and ruins of the palace” he added.

Overlooking the beautiful river of Seethawaka, situated on top of an isolated hill on Awissawella- Ginigathhena road, are the handsome ruins of the Barandi Kovil. Executing elaborated stone carvings of floral designs and bahirawa images on three exquisite stone platforms. The marvelously carved water spout depicts the expertise of the craftsman.

Barandi Kovil

Intricate stone carvings

The kovil was built at the behest of Aritta Kevidu Perumal, an astrologer and an adviser to the king, explained Mr. Yasapala. “Having allegedly committed the fratricidal sin of murdering his father, it is said in the legend that, he was advised by Arritta Kevindu Perumal to build the kovil as an appeasement” he added. The playful breeze running through the pillars of the fine stone structure swayed on and off so as to narrate what it has seen over the history.

As Mr. Yasapala explained, the narrative of Medagoda Paththini Devalaya begins with the onset of a miracle. King Rajasinhe I on his way to Pethangoda in a canoe along Kelani River was taken aback when Manamgolla-the steerer found it impossible to steer it upwards the river. He then asked Manamgolla to inspect what was keeping the canoe from moving, who failed to find a reason. This compelled the king to derive the conclusion that this is a result of a miracle and immediately took measures to deploy troops to explore the area where they found ruins of a Hindu shrine amidst the thick greenery of the forest layer. “It is said that the canoe started moving again once the king had made a vow at the shrine” he added.

Remnants of the majesty that was formerly depicted through the edifice were still visible through elements of quondam architecture.   

    

In 1482, King Rajasinhe restored the shrine and dedicated it to the Goddess Paththini while authorizing the provision of over 600 acres of land to the devalaya. The cannon gifted to the devalaya by the king is still used today at the annual perehara festival (procession). 

Today, women expecting children come to this shrine to pay homage to Paththini Maniyo and be blessed and to pray for the health and well being of their children.

While the area was beginning to gloom with the shade of twilight, we visited a place famed for its tragic history. The Department of Archeology says that it could either be the tomb of King Rajasinge or that of his viceroy in Kandy, Weerasundara Bandara. 

It can not be the tomb of the king since there was a separate burial ground for royal and the old route to Kandy ran through this place, explained Mr. Yasapala relating the part of the legend where Weerasundara Bandara was assassinated by making him fall onto a pitfall set up on the order of the king. “This is the place where he fell” he added.

Mysteries that remain unsolved and the legends of triumphant royalty—the journey to Seethawaka left a memory in my heart. With heavy hearts we bid our farewells to what was once an epitome of majesty. 

Pictures: Courtesy of the internet 

Bouquets and Brickbats

Ups and downs—life's vicissitudes,

Rapture and Grive,

Are we all trapped?

In a vicious cycle,

Seeking perpetual satisfaction,

As if immortality is at our behest,
One moment you are applauded,
Then the next slapped across the face,

Unforgettable memories

And emotional scars,

All that is temporal,

All that is just void,

We yearn and plead

For a glorified life,

But the shiny medallion, 

Dies in the end with rust.

Lost Cause

"Give it time",

For time heals,

And the scars of past,
Will fade away,
Leaving memories,
The melancholia,
Will too pass,
And yet,
Why do I still yearn
For what was never mine
to keep,
Why do I still yearn
For what will never be mine...

First Love

Love casts spells

On those who befall its charm,

An illusion of bliss,

A bittersweet deceit, 

Sways the girl in a red scarf, 

Lost in her own world,

A world of two souls,

That she thinks is complete,

She wanders away,

Spellbound,

Reminiscing every moment

Spent in his amity,

Little does she know, 

That love is temporal,

Little does she know,

That broken hearts cannot be mended,

But her ecstacy

Is a mere illusion

Shattering away,

As he takes the hand of another.

Shaping Myself

I am what I am,
Because of so many things,
So many people,
Who walked in and out
Of my life,

I am what I am,
Because of all those memories,
Blissful and melancholic,
That mended and shaped,
The aura of my life,

I am what I am,
Because of you, him and her,
I met at different points,
Different places,
In the journey of life,

I am what I am,
Because of the brick walls and flowery ways
I walked through,
Marching forward,
Through bouquets and brickbats,

I am what I am,
I am content,
And I am proud,
For the person I am,
And for the person I"ll be.

Misery of Wealth

The eternal search for riches
That drowns mankind in
Depths of misery,
From riches
We seek happiness,

The misery of a worker,
Trapped in employer's clutches,
Like a mouse,
Trying to grab the piece of cheese
From the mousetrap,

The misery of a woman,
With an unemployed husband,
The lone struggle to provide,
Bitter arguments
To prove worthless points,

Off walks the young entrepreneur,
With bigger dreams and hopes,
"Cost management", "small business"
He explains,
"Only if I had a bit more"

On a gloomy Sunday,
In the deserted mansion,
Lay the wealthy businessman,
Red spots and a bullet cap on the velvet carpet,
Idly lying paper read, Stock Market Crash!

Loser's Confession

Life struck,
And reminded me that
I am the royal fumble,
The creator of bumble,

Never considered white,
For I did not get a thing right,
Just a loser, no-hoper;
Ending up a nonstarter,

Was never a good leader,
Because I didn't try harder,
Of the family I am the black sheep
With scars of failure; hurting and deep.

Bidding Farewell

And the pendulum swings again,
As the last moments
Of blissful institutions
Pass, One by one,

Discussions concluded,
Good times shared,
Memories made,
Yet somethings left unsaid,

I am a coward,
Frightened by the worded expression,
I'll never tell you,
But you'll be missed,

Brace yourself dear friend,
To the delight of novelty, 
To exciting encounters,
To the warmth of new friendships,

Rise to your moment,
Seize the day,
Chase your dreams,
Live and relive them,

I wish you joy and laughter,
I wish you strength and courage
To fearlessly face
Challenges that fall upon you,

I bid farewell,
Picturing you through the blurred view
Of my misty eyes,
Farewell dear friend,

I'll await,
Your glorious return,
And will proudly embrace,
My beloved graduate friend. 

Bitter Truth

He picked his words,
Tardily, one by one,
With a heavy heart, 
Painting a melancholic word picture,
To tell me, 
The Truth,

And I listened,
Shocked in disbelief,
Praying for everything to be a nightmare,
I can wake up from,
Ans chase away the bad memories,
As I fought to hold back tears,

I could see the pain,
In his misty eyes,
The pain of being pierced
Through his heart,
By the sword of truth,
The truth of deceit,

"Immoral bastard!",
"And the bloody Harlot!"
My heart screams,
Confronted with the knowledge
Of treachery,
On my innocent god mother,

A sin,
That can collapse two families,
The truth of adultery,
Perpetrated by the bastard and the harlot,
A secret,
We can neither protect nor reveal,

 He lost his father,
And they lost their mother,
The crime has already been committed
And has to be revealed,
It is yet another incidnet,
Proving the non-existence of love.

Facing Reality (Inspired by Sri Siddhartha Gautama)

Blindfolded,
By worldly comforts,
That seem to yield pleasure
And satisfaction,
Just an illusion,
And lives,
Are mocked,
By the vicious cycle of 'sansara'
Where all are deceived,

Nothing but an endless struggle,
To find happiness,
To be contempt,
With minds blinded
By the mist of greed,
Covering the path to freedom,
Eternal peace
And enlightenment,

I watched,
As Prince Siddhartha,
Boldly set off his journey,
To find the truth,
Seek the path to end suffering,
Leaving behind royal comforts,
Departing from the warmth of his beloved Yashodhara
And temporal bonds,
For the salvation of mankind,

The Prince,
Like a lotus bloomed out of mud,
Sought the path to freedom,
In the bedlams of secular world,
Becoming his own master,
Guided by courage and wisdom,
He found the path,
The supreme truth,
Of enlightenment,

And here we are today,
You and I,
Gifted with the treasure of human life,
With the choice,
To follow what is right,
Temporal pleasure or supreme truth,
Suffering or peace,
Somehow greed gets the best of us,
Deluding with its convincing merry,

People come out of the theater,
Admiring the story of the brave Prince,
Bragging about faith and piety,
The mendicant at the entrance begs for pity,
Yet, not one would care to spare change,
Until the enemy within is defeated, 
The journey gets longer and longer,
Until we let go,
Suffering is inevitable.