Sunday, April 21, 2013

waiting for the Bodhisattva.



As the Sun sets in Colombo, an older couple (evidently Muslim) looks on, at a Buddhist flag clad Independence Square.  
What’s independence/freedom if all can’t enjoy it?

                     Buddhist cosmology foretells the prophecy that the teachings of Siddhārtha Gautama, the Buddha, will last some five thousand years. Thereupon, the Buddha Śāsana will go into extinction. Miserliness, hatred and callousness will be the order of the day. Famine, disease and warfare will proliferate until the world as we know it, personifies a diabolical battlefield. This would call for the birth of the Maitreya Buddha who will hitherto be at the Tusitha Heaven. The Bodhisattva will descend from the heavens to go in pursuit of enlightenment and edify the world with his teachings.

Buddhism is dying premature a death.

Preachers preach hate making a blasphemous perversion of the words of the Dhamma.

Sri Lanka as evolved through over 300 years of Colonization: first by the Portuguese, then the Dutch, followed by the British. The colonial powers grabbed land belonging to locals, developed plantations in the central highlands of the island, enslaved the local populace and plundered resources for the dawn of the Industrial Revolution. After fighting the common enemy of the Colonial British, began the fights among ourselves: the LTTE declared war on the Sri Lankan state. For thirty years we grew up with the fear of war, fearing suicide attacks and claymore bombs.

Thirty years.

 After decades of bloodshed, the war saw its end in 2009. Now Sri Lanka is slowly seeing glimpses of development. The people of Sri Lanka yearn for peace and after all these years they surely deserve it.
But as the word goes the moment you find a glimmer of happiness in this world, there's always someone who wants to destroy it. The saffron robed demons are preaching hate and inciting violence, turning communities that lived together for centuries against each other.

In Sri Lanka, Burma and elsewhere in this world, the words of the Buddha are abused and grotesquely perverted.
And we wait, helpless. With our joss sticks and samanpichcha flowers, we light our clay oil lamps to join our hands and say a silent prayer for the birth of the Bodhisattva.


                                                                                                                   

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