One of the greatest “lions” of Kandy is the great Buddhist temple, Delada Maligawa, where the great relics of the god are kept, enshrined in a richly-jewelled casket, and are made an object of special veneration by the votaries of Buddha. This festival is the more attractive by reason of its being made the occasion of a large traffic in precious stones, with which the island of Ceylon abounds. In this way the faithful manage to combine “biz” with devotion.
As the day dawned, vehicles of every conceivable form, size, and shape, streamed into the city. The town became a living hive. All vestiges of filth and wretchedness in the narrow lanes and round the bazaars were hidden beneath long strips of white or coloured linen, garlands of cocoa-nut leaves and flowers, hung around by bands of bright red cloth. Piles of tempting wares were there; beads, bangles, and scarfs to decorate; rice, jaggery, and sweetmeats, to eat; and innumerable liquors to drink, were placed in profusion on every side. The streets and lanes poured forth long strings of humanity, heated with the sun, flushed with drink, bedizened with tawdry jewellery and mock finery; poor tillers of the soil, beggarly fishermen, mendicant devotees, half-starved coolies; lean, sickly women, and poor, ill-fed children—passed onward in the motley throng, burying their everyday misery beneath the wild mirth of a night or two at this great feast of the Paraherra.
Following this living stream of dusky humanity as closely as the heat, the dust, and their strange perfume would allow me, I arrived near the great temple—a grand pile, as it shows half-concealed beneath the luxuriant foliage of cocoa-nut topes, arekas, plantains, and banyan trees. An ocean of human heads filled up the space round the building, from which proceeded the well-known sounds of the reeds and the tom-tom. Gay flags fluttered from the four corners and the lofty pinnacle of the temple; wreaths of flowers, plaited leaves, and ribbons of many colours waved jauntily from roof to door; whilst round the pillars of the walls and the door-posts clustered rich bunches of most tempting fruit.
Close to this busy scene, under a vast shed which acts as a sort of caravanserai, near the temple, other groups were clustered, as closely as they could well stand.
Forcing my way through the crowd, I found that the attraction consisted of a company of Indian jugglers, consisting of two men, a girl, and a child of about three years.
The men were clad in strange, uncouth dresses, with large strings of heavy beads round their necks; the girl was simply and neatly dressed in white, with silver bangles and anklets, and a glittering necklace. It would be impossible to detail all their extraordinary performances, which, however, surpassed anything I had ever seen in that art. The quantity of iron and brass-ware which they contrived to swallow was truly marvellous; tenpenny nails, clasp-knives, and other such like articles were to these natives as so many pieces of pastry or confectionery; and I could readily imagine what havoc they could commit in an ironmongery shop.
Tying up the girl hand and foot with a stout piece of cord, putting her in a close-meshed net; then thrusting her into a wicker basket, and poking the basket through and through with a sharp-pointed sword; then, after a few cabalistic words from the magician, an arm protruded from under the lid of the basket, handing first the net and then the cords; a shrill call from the girl, the basket was opened and found empty!
Such tricks, performed in the midst of a crowd without any apparent appliances, are simply astonishing.
Near the temple all was noise and confusion. It was with great difficulty that I forced my way through the dense crowd, and reached the steps of the sacred shrine. The priest stationed at the entrance made room for me as well as he could, but the pressure inside was intense. Hundreds of men and women pressed eagerly forward to reach the flight of rather steep stone steps which led up to the sacred repository. The progress was so slow that I had ample time to examine and admire the fine antique carved work on the pillars and ceiling of the entrance hall, as well as the pilasters which lined the wide staircase. There is a beauty and finish in these carvings which could not be attained in Ceylon in the present day.
Arrived at length at the inner temple or sacred shrine above, I passed with the crowd between a richly-brocaded curtain, which hung in heavy folds across the entrance at the top of the stairs, and stood before the framed relic of Buddha—or, rather, the jewelled casket which contained it.