Legend of a Lion
12.8.1991
I remembered my grandfather and thought of writing this epilogue. The story below is mainly my grandfather’s voice and what he told me in my childhood (therefore does not reflect my beliefs). After dinner he would relax on the arm chair on the verandah, keep me on his chest and tell me these stories. I would lie on his chest and watch the stars listening to him. My hands clutching his wiry and strong body. I have never felt safer in my whole life. Before I leave this earth, I must pen these memories down.
The Legend of a Lion….
Once upon a time, our people, Sinhalese, descending from Sinha (Lion) used to rule this land. There was peace, harmony and justice for all. The legend says that our race began with the mating of a Lion with a Princess ( How this happened, he could never explain despite me asking him. I used to tell him it is genetically impossible. He used to say “what do you know?” ).
Lion, the King of the jungle, ruled well. He is fearless, brave and powerful. The white man is like the wind. It destroys everything on its way. ( I used to tell him it is more like a hurricane because to me the wind is soothing as well. His reaction was to slap me on the head, kids were not supposed to have opinions). The Lion withstood the wind for a long time.
But the blood that runs in your veins are from those brave people. It will emerge when your beliefs are threatened, and you must fight for your honor. I do not want to see you live a long life as a coward. You are the only male to carry our name and the legend forward. The future of our family depends on how you decide to live your life.
The land that surrounds us is for you to protect. Treat it well and it will live forever, for your children and all future generations. I have protected this well, I didn’t bow to the white man and you mustn’t as well. We did not lose our country to them because we were cowards. They could not capture our capital and the tooth of Buddha. For over 300 years, your forefathers protected
White man will destroy this land. To him it has no value. He doesn’t have respect for fellow human kind. He only sees value in what he can take from it. One day he will pay and pay he will.
He drinks the milk of his cow, kills and eats its meat. I treat my cows as my children. They serve me well. The bulls toll in my land. I was there when they saw the first ray of sunlight. When they die, I bury them. Eating them is like eating my children. And the white man dares to call me uncivilized.
When I look at a tree, I see life, and shelter. White man looks at a tree and sees the timber. I had to cut a few trees to build this house. But for each tree that was felled, I planted ten more. I know you will need them, your children, and theirs.
This is your land, your home. You must stay here and protect it from all evil. Do not bow your head and accept defeat. We are the Lion people. Lion will not eat grass even when dying of hunger. A Lion roars when he is grasping for his last breath.
Did you know the story of Ravana? Indians say Ravana was a bad person. He kidnapped Sita, who was Rama’s wife from
The Indian legend says that Ravana was a demon with ten heads. To us he was our King. He had the strength of ten men and that is the depicted by the ten heads.
There are many others. I will tell you about them as well. It will take a long time since there are so many. I am an old man and I may not live that long.
I am happy that my forefathers managed to protect this land from the white man. Many died to achieve that. You are fortunate in that way. You have to protect this land and hand it over to your children. Teach them to be like the Lion. Tell them the stories that I told you. I can see the fire in your eyes. You have the blood of the ancestors in you. You are our hope, and you must continue the struggle. I don’t know what the future will bring. Our land is furtile and the while man will want more.
Never take more than you need from the land. The Lion hunts only to fill its stomach. He doesn’t kill unnecessarily. (I think I told him that actually it is the Lioness who hunts, Lion is a very lazy animal. I can’t remember his reactions. Perhaps that is why we have many female leaders. Another slap on my head… ouch it hurts!!! I decided to remain silent and listen. It is a lot less painful).
Do not till the land unnecessarily. People are greedy. Be happy with what you have. If you disrespect the land, it will destroy you. Land is more powerful than you. Your remains will go back to her. You are her son, This is your home, your destiny.
You must live an honorable life. Follow your religion, respect elders and wise men. I did not go to school like you. All I know is what I was told by my father and what I learned living in this land. White man has strange habits. I am not enticed by his luxuries. I am not scared of his guns. To me he is a coward because he doesn’t fight like a man. He fires his gun from faraway. Do not be like him. Sometimes you have to fight for the sake of honour and when called for, be prepared to die for it.
Now our country is back with us. But people have changed. White man has sown his seeds of evil in them. We do not have leaders like we did in the past. They are corrupt and greedy. You must fight to get our honour back. Our legend must go on. We should never give up. Study well and be a leader. Teach them how to live like men. Follow the teachings of Buddha. Sometimes you have to fight to achieve peace.
The spirits of our forefathers will protect you and guide you. But you must believe in them.
It is getting late now, and it is your bedtime. I want to watch the stars and enjoy this beautiful surroundings…..
End of act I.
I remember returning from school one day to find my father waiting for me. He did not throw me in the air or smile like he normally does. He asked permission from my mother to take me with him. It was a long drive and we did not talk at all. I knew something was wrong because I have never seen my father like that. He drove me to my grandfather’s house in the village. Just before getting down from the car, he told me “Your grandfather passed away last night”. No tears escaped my eyes. I remembered feeling sad but numb. I had lost a friend. No one would tell me those crazy stories anymore….
I still don’t know how old he was. I only know that he was very old. He died in the field that he loved. He knew each tree, each pebble in that land. He had worked on the paddy field and gone to the pond to wash up. I still remember that pond because it had beautiful Lotus flowers. His body was found in the evening, near the pond.
According to our custom, the body was cremated in the family cemetery. As his eldest son, my father lit the funeral pyre. This is done in the night and the body burns till morning. The sons guard it against evil spirits. Normally they take turns to guard. I still remember spending the whole night guarding the pyre with my father. Even though I was a boy, I was the only heir to the family, so it was important that I guard the pyre of my grandfather. Perhaps they expected his spirit to enter my body. I really don't know. But I had no fear to sit and watch the fire toy with his body. I had nothing to fear. I was among my people and my grandfather's spirit would never do me any harm. I felt him around me, his smell filled my lungs and his words echoed in my ears. In the touch of the wind I felt his hands toy with my hair the way he did many times.
Again we did not speak the whole night. We just sat on the ground and watched the fire. Except for the cracking of the embers, hoot of the night owl, the chattering of the crickets, there was no sound. We knew he had found peace. I think I caught a glimpse of a tear in my father’s eyes. Perhaps his grandfather told him the same stories, but he did not fulfil the dreams as well. It is not the right thing for a man to cry in those days, definitely not in front of their offspring. My aunts were wailing during the funeral, but my father and my uncles stood firm, with sad but numb looks in their faces.
In the morning, we collected the ashes and the bones and as per the custom placed them in a clay pot. The pot is buried in the family cemetery where all his forefathers were buried. He was buried next to his father. And one day my father will be buried next to him and my remains will follow his. I did not cry because I knew he was happy. He had joined the ancestors. I was given the honour of placing the pot in the grave. I placed the clay pot in his grave with no feeling. This is not good bye, he will remain with me for the rest of my life.
Even though I was just a kid, that night by the funeral pyre, watching the flames, I realised that I could never be what they wanted me to be. I knew that I could not fight like they did. I was afraid of the responsibility. I wanted to laugh, and make others laugh. I wanted to play and have fun. I wanted to be friendly with the white man and the rest of the world. I didn’t want to die for the sake of a piece of land or a long and difficult name. It has to end with me. The last of the legend.
At that time, I was the only male child to continue the name. Several years after his death, my youngest uncle’s wife gave birth to a male child. I have never seen him. I do not know if he will take the family forward, bring honour to them. I have a handicap, for he did not know my grandfather like I did. Apart from an old black and white photo, there is nothing for anyone else to know what my grandfather looked like.
I had many questions to ask him about his stories. But he never gave explanations. I wanted to know how a Lion came to
But it was always the mode of one way communication. I was the kid, and I had to listen. But even at that age, I needed answers. Without the answers, the stories had no meaning. I would not believe them unless I had the answers.
Nonetheless, I sometimes see the Lion inside me, and among others. Perhaps all those stories took root deep inside. The Tamil rebels in
Alas, the end of the Lion and his paradise isle. The only Lion we have left today is the one holding the sword in the flag. Whenever I pay respect to the flag, watching the Lion flap away, I will always remember the only Lion I knew. My father and I have failed him and I have nothing left to tell my children.
There are times I wonder if he could see what I turned out to be. I had betrayed all his advise, I had made friends with the white man. But he never saw the kind of people I met. I met good human beings regardless of their colour or creed. All he ever saw outside our people were those who tried to take away his beliefs. Therefore his thinking is justified in many ways. I wish he could brush shoulders of my friends from different lands.
Perhaps he turns in his grave that the last seed of his tribe betrayed him. But that is not something I can help. I needed my own life, my own beliefs and my own portrayal of destiny. Not that I posses values or convictions he had. His was a way of life while mine is a way of survival. He refused change and I advocate it. To him change was unacceptable, to me it is inevitable. We were too apart yet so similar in many ways. I envy him, I would trade all I have for a day in his life. A life filled with achievements and happiness.
Two thousand five hundred years of civilisation has been destroyed now. I still remember the day when one of my aunts showed him a precious gem she had received as a gift. That evening he was feeling sad and the answer to my persistent questioning made him react "those gems are never meant to be dug out. They belong where they are, they make this country so precious. Soon they will start digging up this country until they destroy this land". His prophecies were true, without any education he could foresee the future. Today we have nothing left. Soon we will have no precious stones anymore. It is not that the kings never knew what kind of fortune we had beneath our feet. Look at the enginnering feats they achieved, in comparison to that, digging this earth was a piece of cake. But instead, they chose to build on the ground than to dig in to it and destroy it. They respected the land and its children. Never to flounder around. Today we have destroyed this land by greed for more and more and more…..
I used to ask him, "what will become of us ?" and he would look up on the sky and say "one day you will fight with your own kind, kill each other, and destroy everything". Today when I look back, I admire his wisdom.
I was proud to be the only one in my generation blessed to know him. None of my cousins dared to look him in the eye yet alone touch him. I was the only one that had a special place in his heart. I could run into his arms and toy with him while my cousins daren't touch him. He tried his best to teach me the value of life, this land and this country. I was the chosen one, yet I have no regrets. The blood that runs in my veins forces me to be free, in a different way to his generation, yet similar in essence. Both of us wanted to be free in different ways. His was by compliance to his ancestors; mine was by following my heart….
Who knows? One day I will be buried next to him or my father. And my soul will unite with my ancestors. Today the world is full of complications, and likes of my grandfather would never survive in this environment. The jungle has changed its face, yet it is still the survival of the fittest. The only difference being the amount belief.
I am no philosopher and neither was my grandfather. Today my life is filled with technical advancements that he would never have imagined. This computer would have baffled him yet he was much more free than I could ever be. He had a life. I am constrained by my environment.
I wish he was here to meet a few people I crossed my path with. I do not share my belief with many so if you are reading this with my consent, then you are a friend…
White man has many faces and I have seen them all. I traveled several oceans where as travelling to the big city was a shocking experience for him. Yet I do not have my feet on the ground as he did.
I could go on and on… but it is time to rest him in peace….
This is the story of a man I loved, admired and respected for what he was. A man who created so much of good things in life. A man who lived a honorable life, worked hard till his last day. A man who never borrowed anything, ever bowed his head to anyone, a man full of pride of his country. A man without an education yet spoke words of wisdom that seems to elude those ruling us now. Money has taken over everything, no one loves the country anymore.
May his soul rest in peace…
posted by Rivi @ 2:18 AM
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