Afterwards he dragged the tavalama and the salt fish to the house. Summoning that very bride,[13] Ayiwandā having eaten, when a little [food] is left over on the leaf [plate] he gives it to her. Ayiwandā [now] sleeps on the bed; Ayiwandā’s wife sleeps on the mat on which Ayiwandā wipes his feet, under the bed on which Ayiwandā sleeps.
Tom-tom Beater. North-western Province.
In a Tamil story taken from the New Year Supplement to the Ceylon Observer, 1885, and reproduced in The Orientalist, vol. ii, p. 22, Katirkāman, a poet who had acquired magical powers, awoke one night to find that some burglars had broken into the house and were removing the goods in it. He scratched a spell on a piece of palm-leaf, placed it under his pillow, and went to sleep again. When he awoke he found all the robbers silent and motionless in the positions they occupied when the spell affected them, some with the goods on their heads or shoulders, others with their hands on keys or door handles. When he spoke to them they apologised humbly, stated that they had mistaken the place and person they were to encounter, and promised never to attempt to rob the house again. He made them put back the goods, gave them a bath and a good meal, and stated that in future they should always have the right to eat and drink there.
[3] The text has Ansca, evidently intended for Anicca. This is part of a Buddhist exclamation in Pāli, Aniccan̥ dukkhan̥, “transient is sorrow,” often used colloquially to express astonishment. A Buddhist monk of my acquaintance invariably used it to express even slight surprise at anything, strongly accenting the last syllable of the first word; in fact, all is usually pronounced as though it formed only one word. See also p. 71 below. [↑]
[4] This appears to be the meaning. [↑]
[5] As a preliminary proceeding, the bridegroom gives the bride a new cloth to put on. [↑]