A Buddhist Childhood

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little monk

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The Arcadia that is Sagaing

The motor launch skimmed over the wide expanse of foaming waters of the Ayeyawady River.The city of Mandalay faded away in the distance.

I turned my gaze towards the range of wooded hills with golden and white pagodas embosomed high in tufted trees. I could see turrets of the colonnaded stair-ways among the thick growth of need trees. I was beside myself with excitedment, for there was so much to see. All around the launch small flat-bottomed boats flitted over the surging waters like birds; and "birds"they are called in Myanmar. The prow was painted to represent the beak of a bird. I nestled against my gradfather, whose patient replies could not keep pace with my eager question.
The pagoda-crested hills loomed closer. Ba Ba Gyi, for this was how I called my grandfather, made me sit down and took my palms in his, I knew exactly what I should do. I put my palms together like a lotus bud and raised them to my forehead; and directing my gaze to the pagoda on the hills, I recited:
I take refuge in the Buddha,
I take refuge in the Dhamma,
I take refuge in the Sangha.
Ba Ba Gyi smiled and said "well done.". This ritual of saying prayers as we came nearer our home tower was a happy prologue to the glorious days I was going to spend with my grand-parents.
My Maternal grandfather lived in Sagaing, a large tower in central Myanmar. An old city of monarchical days, she lies on the bank of the Ayeyawady River, opposite the city of Mandalay, the last seat of the Myanmar Kings.My happiest memories are associated with Sagaing, where my parents stayed whenever my father managed to get a long leave from the police force in which he was serving as an officer. Whenever we came up there Ba Ba Gyi came and met the family at Mandalay, from where we took the ferry launch. It was decades before the handsome Inwa Bridge, which now joins the two towns was con-structed.
Life at Ba Ba Gyi's place was quiet, peaceful and leisurely, being far from the busy streets. The house was an old-fashioned rambling affair built of teak and pyinkadoe, 'Myanma steel, timber,' and the roof was wagut, bamboo slats woven like thatch, which gave the whole house a cool air-conditioned effect. Ba Ba Gyi disdained the foreign-made corrugated iron roof-ing as unsuitable for the hot dry Upper Myanmar cli-mate. The sight of the dear old home filled me with happiness and I fell into the arms of my May May Gyi (Grandmother) waiting for us at the gate.
Daily devotions
The next morning, I lay on my bed gazing at the criss-cross pattern of bamboo slats and counted the tiny squares and triangular triangles as the first light of dawn, stole into the room. I dozed off again until Ba Ba Gyi's mellow voice reciting Pali prayer texts brought me back to greet the days. I felt happy and secure, knowing that Ba Ba Gyi's recitations would drive away the evil spirits and bring in good spirits to bless the home.
As Ba Ba Gyi went on reciting, I looked at the bamboo matting wall with fair isle patterns woven in black against pale-yellow background. The rooms in Ba Ba Gyi's house were partitioned with bamboo mat-ting and the patterns were varied and beautiful.
Ba Ba Gyi struck the brass triangular gong and called upon all sentient beings to come and share the merit of his good deed of morning devotions and I pulled myself up and made for the door. The next
moment I felt I had stepped on air and no wonder ... the floor level of my room was few inches higher than the corridor outside, and I fell on the floor with a bump.
It was always like this in BaBa Gyi's house... so full of unexpected turnings and levels, which kept on changing all the time, Ba Ba Gyi pottered round the house armed with carpenter's tools and the rooms, corridors, doors and windows were never in the same place. Poor May May Gyi was often exasperated es-pecially when she had to call in professional men to finish what Ba Ba Gyi had begun.
I knew my Ba Ba Gyi would get a scolding if she knew my mishap, so I silently rubbed my hip and limped away to begin my morning ablutions. Another day had begun with the sweet tones of the brass trian-gular gong which was glorious climax of Ba Ba Gyi's morning prayers and recitations.
Paritta : Recitation of Pali texts
The recitation of Pali texts and calling upon one and all to come and share the merit is closely con-nected with the basic teaching of Buddhism ... that all sentient beings go through the cycles of birth and death and rebirth. There are thirty-one planes of existences. With the abode of the humans as centre, there are twenty-six higher regions above and four lower re-gions down underneath. When one dies, one is born again as human, animal or celestial being according to the merit of one's own deeds.
Recitation of Pali texts is done so that the celes-tial beings could once again hear the words the Bud-dha had spoken in His lifetime, for the texts are from His teachings. It is considered a deed of merit to re-cite them and the good spirits or celestial beings who hear them are gladdened. Such ones bring blessings to the home. Evil spirits do not dare to come near such a home.
The invocation to come and share the merit is supposed to be of great help to many beings, even evil spirits, who are only lower beings. If such ones rejoice on hearing the invocation and say, "Well done," they too will be blessed; they might go to better planes of existence.
May May Gyi was already waiting with our morning meal of rice porridge, hot and steaming; boiled peas soaked in sesamum oil, dried fish toasted on charcoal fire, We did justice to May May Gyi's delicacies and finished off with coffee. Ba Ba Gyi took the black earthen tea pot full of hot green tea. I snatched the small china cup and soon we were off.

Down the garden path
I trotted happily along with BaBaGyi down the garden path, listening in awe to his invocations. "Those who stay on the trees and in the bushes, in the shrubs, those who stay in the garden, those who stay at the well, those who stay at the pond, may you all be blessed, may you have the best of everything, may you share the deed of merit I have done." I walked entranced through the paradise of mangoes, guavas, jack fruits, limes, lemons, then to the rows of roses "and jasmine and orchids. I was thrilled by the thought that the spirits or the devas of the trees and shrubs would be saying "Well done," and how they in their happy joyous state would be grateful to my Ba Ba Gyi; they may even be promoted to higher regions as a result of getting their share of the merits done by Ba Ba Gyi.
When we came to the other end of the orchard where there was a well. Ba Ba Gyi put down his precious tea pot in a safe place and prepared to begin his day's work. I leant on the brick walling of the well to look into the mirror of clear water down inside. BaBa Gyi warned me not to lean too much into the well, although the walling was higher than my height. I moved to the brick tank which was close to the well.
There I watched what I thought to be the most wonderful feat in the world
A few feet away from the well was a wooden pivot with a long wooden beam mounted on the fulcrum: at the end of the beam hung a long bamboo pole to which was fitted a pail. At the other end of the bamboo was a counter weight of bricks. Ba Ba Gyi stood on the brick wall and pulled the bamboo pole down into the well.Then the water-filled pail came up almost by itself because of the counter weight. The pail tilted naturally into the trough which ran over to the brick tank, I watched fascinated as cascades of water flowed down into the tank.
Ba Ba Gyi's cleverness did not end there, he had devised an irrigation system for the whole estate. There was a network of canals by which all the trees could be watered.I waited, till the tank was filled to the brim and at Ba Ba Gyi's signal I opened the waterlock and jumped to race with the gushing waters into the lime groves, shrubberies and flower beds. I ran happily teasing and cajoling the rivulets with a stick or floating a navy of dry leaves

The household shrine
Ba Ba Gyi watched my antics while having cups of green tea as he rested under a shady tree. My explorations along the numerous tributaries were given a recess when Ba Ba Gyi reminded me that it was time I picked flowers, for May May Gyi would be waiting for me at the household shrine. Sobered by the call to sacred duty, I plucked flowers which I took triumphantly to May May Gyi. She was already at the veranda where the household shrine was. She had thrown away the old flowers and washed the vases clean.
As soon as I had put the flowers into May May Gyi's hands I sat down with my hands raised on the forehead to bow down to the golden image of the
Buddha. I then helped May May Gyi arrange flowers and listened entranced as she kept saying that a nice girl who did such deeds of merit would ever be blessed. She told me stories of maidens who were born beautiful, rich and good as a result of such deeds of merit.I loved these stories, for, even though I was bom with a dark complexion, high forehead, small eyes and a snub nose, I could still hope to be a statuesque beauty in my next existence. It was in fact the reason why I never failed to help May May Gyi in her morning ritual of offering flowers at the household shrine.
It seemed that May May Gyi did not want me to wait till the next existence to become a beauty, for, right after the prayers she prinked me for the day beginning with my hair. As was the vogue of the five-year-olds, my head was shaved leaving a circular patch on the crown which was allowed to grow until the hair could be done into a knot and a thin layer of hair round the patch was trimmed into a circular fringe so that the knot would not be too severe. That circular fringe of hair is called sa-yit.
Hair styles
Before my hair was long enough to be done into a knot, it was gathered and tied with a red wool yam at the base so that the ends of their hair stood stiff like a bunch of fowl's quills, and this style was called kyet-taung-si (a bunch of fowl's quills).
May May Gyi conditioned my hair with coconut oil and combed it commenting on its silken softness and picked up with the fine teeth of the wooden comb the longer tresses that had strayed into sa-yit, circular fringe. May May Gyi said, "Your sa-yit is alright. I need not trim it today." She then coiled my hair round her four fingers using the thumb to keep it in place and with an expert movement she achieve a small knot with an inch stub of hair sticking out.
As she gave finishing touches she sketched a
happy picture of me some years hence when there would be no need to shave round the coiffure and the circular fringe would be allowed to grow; the front bangs would go into the main coiffure and the two tresses would be curled behind the ears to frame the face; the fringe at the back would be trimmed just above the nape of the neck. This hair-style is called sa-dauk (meaning probably that main coiffure is being propped by the bangs at the back). May May Gyi then wiped away the smudges of coconut oil from my forehead and prepared to put thanakha paste on my face. I loved the big circular stone slab, (kyaukypin, used for grinding thanakha bark), the face of which was as smooth as satin and it had three stumpy legs about two inches high; the circular face was surrounded by a narrow channel no deeper than an inch. May May Gyi poured a few drops of water on the stone face and rubbed the thanakha bark in swift circular motions. In no time a fragrant creamy paste began to appear and flowed into the channel. May May Gyi went on rubbing, putting drops of water occasionally until she thought it to be enough
Thanakha - the natural make-up
May May Gyi first put three blots of thanakha on my face, one on the forehead, the others on each cheek and spread them all over the face, It was a sweet cooling sensation and May May Gyi told me the importance of putting thanakha on my face every morning if I wanted to be a beauty when I grew up. We two were so enraptured by the beauty ritual that we forgot the time until Ba Ba Gyi called. "Hey, you two, are you going to grind off the kyaukpyin to bits... it's nearly time for the monks to come."
Daily alms-giving
With May May Gyi, I went to the latticed front room where Ba Ba Gyi was drinking his green tea on the wooden-framed dais with bamboo flooring. On a small table beside the dais were two black lacquer bowls, one filled with hot steaming rice and the other with boiled peas soaked in sesamum oil. In each bowl was a bronze ladle. May May Gyi had her brown shawl draped over her shoulders, as she always had when she was saying her prayers or when she had to meet the monks. Soon the yellow robed brethren of the Buddha's order came single file in procession of ten or fifteen, their jet black alms bowls cradled in their arms- With downcast eyes they stopped one after another and silently opened the lacquer lids of their bowls to receive the alms-food May May Gyi ladled out the alms-food into each bowl as they paused and passed. I watched in awe and reverence as the staid yellow-robed figures walked silently away into the long shaded alley speckled with the mild rays of the morning sun.
Monks go on their rounds for alms every morning barefooted. They stop unobtrusively outside the laymen's houses. If someone comes out with alms they would received it in silence. If no one comes to make an offering, they would go on their way. Of course, there are households like my grand-parents who daily wait with alms-food for their coming. Each householder gives what he can, quantity or quality does not matter as much as the spirit in which it is given.
The Buddha allows monks to accept food sent to them at their own place. Monks with well-to-do relatives ordonors do not have to go on alms rounds. They can also accept invitation to laymen's houses to partake of alms-food Although such monks do not need to go on alms rounds, they often do so as an act of humility and also to give the poor people a chance of seeking merit. People who cannot afford to send alms-food to the monastery or invite monks to their own houses, have a chance of gaining merit by making offerings to the monks on their daily rounds. Monks consider it an act of
compassion for poor people to go round on alms rounds. Even people who can afford to invite monks to partake of alms-food in their own houses do not want to miss the daily alms rounds, for this kind of offering alms is considered more meritorious. It is a spontaneous alms-giving without any wish for show or ostentation. There is also a spirit of impersonal and impartial goodwill; that is why my grandparents who often had monks to have alms-food by invitation, took care to do the daily offering of alms to monks on their
The day so begun with thoughts and deeds pure and holy, would be filled with sweet wholesome hours, which were reckoned with herbs and flowers.Ba Ba Gyi would potter round the garden happily tending the trees and shrubs he had planted with his own hands since his retirement from government service He had no permanent help, but only casual hands who came and worked part time, Some of Ba Ba Gyi's staff who had also retired were glad to come and help, so there never was a dearth of helping hands. Sometimes a family of such people would be staying on the estate so that there would be a man to help Ba Ba Gyi in the garden, a woman to do the household chores and some young person to amuse and attend to the doted grandchild. In those days I felt like a princess and I was treated, like one perhaps
Tales of a grandfather
Ba Ba Gyi had an inexhaustible fund of stories, mostly from the Jatakas or die Buddha's birth stories. They were supposed to have been told by the Buddha Himself, revealing remarkable incidents in the long series of His previous existence as a Bodhisatta or
One destined to be the Buddha.
The one I liked best was the story of King Nemi, the Bodhisatta who was so good and virtuous that he was invited by the king of the celestial regions to visit his abode. As he rode on the heavenly chariot, the celestial charioteer explained to him the wondrous sights on the way. This was the favourite theme of the poets of old. Ba Ba Gyi recited the old poems and I shut ray eyes as I rested my head on Ba Ba Gyi's lap.
As I listened to Ba Ba Gyi's recitation, I would be carried away on the back seat of King Nem i' s chariot soaring on the seraph wings into the airy regions. As a dazzling panorama of pinnacled mansions of gold and crystal, ablaze with heavenly light unfolded, I would see beautiful goddesses in their bejeweled robes. I would hear the charioteer explain to King Nemi how these maidens won such existence with their deeds of merit. Sometimes, I would pass the flaming bounds of space and time to spy the secrets of the Abyss, the regions of hell, where the wicked were punished.
More stories
Even the non-religious stories were based on the belief in the cycle of existences. One of the interesting characters in folklore is the guardian spirit of treasure troves. Such spirits, the story goes, had been human beings; but they had died with a great craving for some hidden treasure trove they could not go to the higher regions. They might have done some deeds of merit as humans and such deeds would give them attributes of beauty and supernatural powers.
There is yet another kind of treasure-trove guardians; they are spirits, who, for some reason or other have to guard the treasures enshrined in the pagodas. It is said that the builders of ancient pagodas put kings' ransom of gold and jewels in the secret vaults of the pagodas. People who tried to steal them were supposed to bear the penalty of guarding the treasures when they died. There is not an old pagoda which does not have a treasure trove spirit story, a legend mostly unwritten but handed.from father to son.
The town of Sagaing with her numerous old pagodas,
the relics of the monarchical days, was rich in legends. The ranges of hills nearby with their old pagodas lent a romantic background to the stories of the treasure trove spirits. I listened to the stories of spirit maidens who, tired of their duties, wish to be born again in the abode of humans. They had to ask permission from their superiors who granted them a short lease of life. When such ones were born as humans, they were reminded of their previous existence by their spirit friends, who visited them in their dreams. The spirit friends helped such persons by giving them nuggets of gold to spend during their lease of life.
May May Gyi often told me about "true stories" of some people who had children who were treasure-trove-spirits reborn. Such children died young, May May Gyi said. After they died they often visited their parents in dreams and told them how sorry they were to leave the human abode. Such stories and characters were part of our daily life. Our daily rituals reminded us of the blessedness cf human existence. We humans have the chance to do deeds of merit. If we had been born a treasure-trove-spirit, it would have been very difficult, for example, to give alms to the monks or keep sabbath.
Sabbath days
Sabbath days are assiduously observed during the lenten months. The lenten months coincide with the monsoon season. Monks are not allowed to travel during Lent, so it is the duty of the faithful laity to see to their needs; hence the custom of offering Lenten Yellow Robes and candles. Such offerings are made so that the monks should spend the lenten time in quiet meditation or study without having to worry about their needs
The first day of Lent, which is the full moon day of Waso month, was an exciting time on my Ba Ba Gyi's estate. Monks would be invited to partake of the alms food and I gazed fascinated at yellow robes, neatly rolled and encased in tall lacquer cups, each crowned with flowers and streamers and the tall coloured lenten candles. Such holy objects stood against the background of staid yellow-robed monks sitting with their face modestly hidden behind the huge palm-leaf fans.
The whole family including servants gathered to bow down to the monks and make the offering. Sometimes the ceremony of lenten offering is made communally, neighbours pooling their resources. It was the custom of my grandparents to contribute something to the communal offering; but this did not prevent them from inviting monks to take alms-food and offerings of the season on the sacred day, the first day of the Lent.
The lenten week-ends of sabbath days are meant for holy duties. Grown-ups observe the Eight Precepts which being three more austerities added to the daily observance of the Five Precepts, namely, to avoid taking life, stealing, unlawful sex relations, telling lies and taking intoxicants. Children, though they were not expected to observe the precepts, went along to the monastery where the older folk usually spent the day. The day before sabbath day May May Gyi would be busy preparing food for tomorrow. Ba Ba Gyi would get the choicest fruits ready and I would pluck the pretiest flowers to place before the image of the Buddha at the monastery. The next morning we left home, Ba Ba Gyi carrying the basket of fruits,and flowers and May May Gyi with her red lacquer bowl on her head, and I, an impish mite trotting along feeling on top of the world.
The monastery was in the midst of a woodland surrounded by ruined pagodas. It was so cool and pleasant that youngsters liked to go along with the elders to the monastery even if it was to play. The main building was a solid brick-work and it was the abode of the head monk and the older monks, ah over the compound were smaller buildings mostly wooden, where the younger monks and novices stayed. There were special rest houses for laymen and they were called Zayats.
A day at the monastery
The main Zayat which was a large open hall was teeming with people each group settling down in a chosen corner. As we went in there would be a general exchange of greetings. Ba Ba Gyi left after he had seated us in a suitable place. May May Gyi spread the mats kept in the Zayat for the use of the congregation and sat down. Fanning herself with her scarf she talked to friends who came to wish her. I gazed longingly at the many-tiered lacquer bowl May May Gyi had brought. I could hardly wait to see what was inside for the opening of the casket of delicacies was one of, the most exciting events of the day.
At long last, May May Gyi got rid of her last acquaintance and she made ready to open her bowl. With mounting eagerness I watched her take the lid on top; it was the size of a water goblet and it was so used; underneath was a shallow tray with cheroot and matches; "will you take this cheroot and match to your Ba Ba Gyi, dear?..." Oh, May May Gyi, Ba Ba Gyi is talking to his friends, he is busy, please let me see what is under the tray, I will go to BaBaGyi afterwards". May May Gyi laughed indulgently and went on unveiling the mysteries of the bowl, while I could hardly contain myself with excitement. Underneath the tray was a bigger tray divided into compartments, wherein I saw pickled ginger and tea-leaves, toasted scsamum seeds, peanut crispies, sliced garlic fried and green lettuce leaves; in the next tray were big chunks of fish cooked in soya bean sauce, and in the last tray covering the main bowl were curries whose spicy aroma went right into my hungry little belly. In spite of the indulgences I enjoyed, I could not expect to have a single bite until May May Gyi had put something of each in a big plate to be offered to the monks. For it was the custom of the people to offer the delicacies they had brought to the monks. Even the poorest and humblest would reserve the best portion of their meal for the monks. Sabbath in the monastery was a day of plenty.
At about nine, all would gather in the main building of the monastery and the head monk received the alms of the day and invested the congregation with the Three Gems and Eight Precepts. All make obeisance to the Three gems and vowed to keep the Precepts for the day. Children were allowed to take part in the ceremony, although they were not expected to Keep the Precepts. This participation in a small way at least kept the children quiet for a short time.
The head monk gave a short sermon extolling the deeds of the day. The alms, unless offered specially to an individual monk, would be shared by all. In the sermon, the head monk often stressed the importance of the right spirit in alms giving; one should give alms to monks as ones dedicated to the service of the Order of the Buddha. Even though one gives a morsel of food to a young novice, the deed should be done in this spirit, for then the merit gained would be no less than that that may be gained by offering a sumptuous meal to a great monk. It is the spirit that matters. Monks live solely on the offerings of the laity. They are dedicated to service of the Buddha by studying the scriptures, and propagating them, and practising meditation to gain insight. Monasteries have so long been seats of culture and even to this day the rural population has depended on the monasteries for their elementary education.
Monks, therefore, have been part of our lives as revered teachers. They are one of the Three Gems-the Order of the Yellow Robe. They are to guide us in spiritual matters and they are often described as fertile lands where we may sow seeds of merit by offering alms. Monasteries are also places of retreat from worldly affairs. My grandparents loved going there on sabbath day; Ba Ba Gyi usually had an interesting time discussing Buddhist scriptures with other retired gentlemen, who, like him had found a useful vacation in the study ofthe scriptures in their retirement. Sometimes the discussions were spirited and they would often take their arguments to the head monk for decision.
May May Gyi would have a fine time meeting friends and she had an opportunity to do deeds of merit like sweeping the grounds. Children happily helped with chores, and were taught the sacred duty of keeping the monastery grounds clean instead of leaving it strewn with litter. Apart from being a happy outing, a day at the monastery is satisfying in many ways, social, cultural and spiritual. These outings are to remain in my treasure of happy memories for I as a child had fun, eating so many delicacies and playing in the woodlands. Late in the afternoon we would come home, the end of a perfect day.



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