THE KING THE CHARIOTEER AND THE GATEKEEPER (Part 1)

by Bernard VanCuylenburg

“Not to know what happened before we were born ” wrote the Roman poet Cicero, (106 – 43 BC.) “is to remain perpetually a child. For what is the worth of a human life unless it is woven into the life of our ancestors by the records of history ?” Thus in my writings I have endeavoured to peel back the layers of time to give an honoured place to ancient Lanka which emphasizes so greatly the importance of her history and traditions which have left a deep footprint on the worlds stage.

An alternate title I had in mind for this article was A DAY IN THE YEAR 478 AD. It was a day which saw tremendous political upheaval and instability in the land, and the end of a dynasty. Before I get into the detail of this article, a flashback to the year 478 AD in other parts of the world, may provide an interesting timeline to events of the period although they have no direct impact on the drama being enacted in ancient Lanka that year. In the far east, the year 478 AD signalled the end of the Song dynasty in China and heralded the ascendancy of the Qi dynasty. In neighbouring India just one year before, the Gupta Empire held sway and King Budhagupta ruled the land. Two years before, in 476 AD the mighty Roman empire collapsed , with the last Roman emperor Romulus Augustus suffering a humiliating defeat at the hands of Odovacar the Goth. Distant England was ruled by the Anglo-Saxons except for Cornwall and Cumberland. In the Vatican in Rome, Pope Simplicius sat on the throne of St.Peter. And in Lanka that year, one of the greatest kings that ever sat on a throne was usurped in a palace coup and was to endure a sudden fall from grace and suffer the most barbaric death ever conceived by the human mind. History is replete with numerous examples of kings and rulers being put to death by the most gruesome means even before Emperor Julius Caesar’s assassination, and right down the ages. In keeping with the subject of this story, I wish to cite three examples which come to mind.

One was the the murder of Archbishop Thomas Becket in Canterbury cathedral in the year 1170. The English chronicles record this horrible deed in all its gruesome detail. Quote “….The Archbishop received four strokes all to the head and the whole crown of his head was cut off. Then one of the knights planted his foot on Becket’s neck and with the point of his sword drew out the blood and brains from the gash of the severed crown scattering them on the floor…..” The other murder was that of King Edward 2nd in Berkley castle in the county of Gloucestershire England , in the year 1327. Here again, the English chronicles record this murder in graphic detail stating that “a heated iron was thrust into his innards….” adding that his death cry was so horrible, it shattered the silence of that dark night and was heard in the village close by. A different type of torture was used to “murder” the Moghul Emperor Shah Jehan better known for his monument to love, the beautiful Taj Mahal. He was taken prisoner by his son Prince Aurangzeb in 1658. Up to the year 1666 the year of his death, he was subject to the worst forms of “Psychological Torture” to break his mind and spirit. He was given a room in the Red Fort in Delhi where on rising each day he could see the Taj Mahal in the distance across the Jamuna river where his beloved Mumtaz Mahal was buried. He would stand at the window of his room everyday gazing at the Taj Mahal pining for his Queen, and was refused permission by Prince Aurangzeb (now Emperor) to visit the tomb. As a Moghul scribe wrote at the time, “He could neither see it or flee it……” This psychological torture went on for eight years, apart from other humiliations he was forced to endure. The Moghul records state that his hair went completely gray in three months. I stood at this same window and on looking at the Taj Mahal as he saw it across the river, could never begin to imagine the pain that tore away at his heart. This once mighty Emperor shattered in spirit , died a broken man, his dignity ground to the dust.

King Dhatusena’s murder had to be conceived by some devilish mind in the darkest pit of hell when man’s inhumanity and cruelty were taken to new heights of bestiality. Having been kept a prisoner by Prince Kasyapa after he was overthrown, he was repeatedly asked to reveal where his treasure lay. These were no polite “Question and Answer sessions”, and were undoubtedly conducted with vehemence, maximum rudeness and insults, compounding the vitriolic language used. The Culavamsa infers that the evil Migara the commander of the army, used to parade before the ex- King hurling insults and flaunting his power in his lust for revenge. This form of torture by word went on for weeks, and Dhatusena to his credit always maintained his decency grace and decorum, behaving with great dignity in the face of the jibes, sarcasm, and humiliation hurled at him. It says much for the calibre of the man. Although now a prisoner his inner strength and qualities of heart and mind steeled him for this ordeal and true to character he – reading in between the lines of the chronicle – behaved with all propriety, exhibiting tenacity of purpose. Not once did he yield, and this only infuriated his captors including King Kasyapa. Finally, when it was apparent that he would not confess, orders were issued that the ex-king be brought by chariot to a spot somewhere near the bund of the Kalawewa tank for the final confrontation. This time they thought he would break under the threat of death and finally reveal where his treasure lay. A treasure to which King Kasyapa believed he had a legal and legitimate right.

The humble charioteer entrusted with the task of conveying the ex-king to the designated spot accepted his task with an element of fear and reverence. His charge was no ordinary ” prisoner ” but the great King Dhatusena. He treated the ex-king with all respect and reverence and to be in his presence simply over awed him. Thus began the fateful journey which the ex-king never knew would be his last. The charioteer (his name has obviously not been recorded for posterity because the chronicler did not give it a second thought) had two cobs of corn with him which his wife had probably packed for him as a snack. Not wanting to enjoy this by himself he offered one to his “prisoner” to enjoy. This act of kindness touched the ex-king deeply. Let the chronicler take over here. He wrote ” As the chariot drove thither, the driver who guided it ate roasted corn and gave him some of it. Dhatusena ate it and had great joy over the man”. In other words, he was deeply moved by the compassion and thoughtfulness of the charioteer. He felt that this simple man should be rewarded in some way for his kindness, and wrote a message on an ola leaf , then gave it to the charioteer requesting him to give it to Prince Moggallana, if ever he became King ……….

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THE KING THE CHARIOTEER AND THE GATEKEEPER (Part 2 )

I reluctantly bade farewell to the venerable monk at the Aukana temple. For the past hour we had discussed philosophy and the teachings of the enlightened one. Apart from discussing the Dhammapada we touched on the Dhatusena – Kassyapa – Moggallana saga, and while he adhered strictly to the account in the Culavamsa word for word, I tried to read between the lines. During all my visits to ancient temples I always sought out the chief priest and found them to be wonderful teachers. There was always a meeting of the minds and I enjoyed a discourse with them. Stepping out, I paused for awhile to drink deep of the intoxicating beauty in the scene before me. I marvelled at the masterpiece of engineering and hydraulics – the mighty Kalawewa tank built by King Dhatusena. Tiny foam flecked waves lapped its shores, while silhouetted against a clear blue sky, a flock of cormorants took wing. A soothing gentle breeze kissed the trees . Nature had run riot with her paintbrush daubing the landscape with colours of every hue……colours almost impossible to capture on an artists canvas. I travelled the length of the tank, not losing sight of the Aukana Buddha statue because I was here for a singular purpose – to relive and re-enact in my mind – if possible to “witness” – the gruesome drama which was played out here over 1500 years ago – the final confrontation and brutal murder of King Dhatusena. Legend has it that it took place near the bund of the Kalawewa tank and for obvious reasons, his murderers beginning with his son King Kasyapa ,never wished to perpetuate his memory by any memorial stone or plaque marking the spot. They did not wish to be remembered by posterity as murderers.

Finding a shady spot under an old gnarled tree which embraced me in its welcoming shade, I buried myself in the pages of the Culavamsa as I had done many times before, determined to get into the thick of this story and experience the drama of that fateful day in 478 AD. I had only one big disadvantage. I was 1534 years too late………..

As I deployed my thoughts and aligned my senses to the beautiful landscape, I was teleported to another world and thought I heard the sound of a chariot and the sound of voices from a different time…………It was King Dhatusena giving the charioteer an ola leaf with an inscribed message, requesting him to give it to Prince Moggallana if ever he became king . This message would play an important part in the humble charioteer’s life although he did not know it then, for on the ola leaf King Dhatusena had requested Moggallana to give him the post of Gatekeeper ( an important position in court at the time ) as a reward for his kindness if ever he ascended the throne. On the way to the audience hall for the final confrontation, they stopped at a temple to visit a monk – a Thera – who had once been King Dhatusena’s teacher. Let the chronicler take over here. This is what he wrote “….When the Thera heard that the king had come, he put aside the bean soup and chicken he was about to partake, remembering ‘The King likes that’ and took his seat awaiting his guest. The King came in, greeted him respectfully and took a place by his side…..” The sorrow and heartache between Master and pupil meeting under these circumstances must surely have seen a few tears shed. But the joy of meeting dispensed sorrow for awhile, and the chronicler wrote in the Culavamsa “…..There the twain sat side by side, joyful as if they had gained a kingdom and their mutual conversation chased their cares away…..” The parting must have been bitter and when it came the Thera preached a farewell sermon emphasising how the world is subject to the law of impermanency. That was their last goodbye.

In the audience hall King Kasyapa seated on a throne of velvet cushions, surrounded by his nobles, courtiers, advisers and ministers awaited his prisoner. The commander of the army, the nefarious Migara sat close at hand savouring his victory. As is the case when political trials are conducted, there were also the sycophants and hangers – on, eager to curry favour with the new monarch. The Culavamsa is at best very sketchy about detail and at this point in the story, there is no mention of King Dhatusena’a queen or even of his daughter, Migara’s wife. When King Dhatusena entered, the babble of voices ceased, replaced by a stony silence. This tragic figure had carried a burden which would have broken most men. Whilst a prisoner in a dungeon, he was sorely smitten by the loss of his kingdom, and separation from his son Prince Moggallana who by now had made good his escape to South India. How short is memory……..this was a man who only nineteen years ago had almost single handedly led a rebellion and liberated the Island from five South Indian invaders who ruled the country from 433 – 459 AD. Attaining hero status, he was then the darling of the masses. Uneasy is the head that wears the crown, and the ex king was no exception. When he needed them most, none, not even a member of the clergy dared speak in his favour for fear of victimisation and persecution – perhaps execution. They were traumatised by the sudden change of political fortunes and the ex-kings fall from grace. His supporters had gone into hiding and some fled the country for refuge in other lands. Two guards led him before the “committee of inquiry”. It should be remembered that this was not a trial of a person accused of crimes against the state . In fact it was a family squabble being played out in public.

As the Culavamsa states it was Migara who fired the first barb. Turning to King Kasyappa he said “There are treasures lying in the palace O King – has thy father told it to thee…..?” When King Kasyapa replied in the negative, he continued “Knowest thou not his intentions O Monarch ? It is for Moggallana that he keeps his wealth”. Furious, King Kasyapa then posed the same question to his father. One never knows if he was surprised, amused, or relieved on hearing his father answer ” Take me to the Kalavapi (Kalawewa) tank…..” Thinking that his father had hidden the treasure somewhere near the tank, his demeanour changed instantly on hearing this reply. The raging lion was transformed into a gentle lamb, and he hoped this whole affair would soon be over with the treasure – or his share of it – in his possession. Accordingly, the ex king was taken to the tank, and taking them by surprise he requested for permission to bathe in its waters. Permission was granted and as the Culavamsa records it, ” Dhatusena plunged as he liked therein, and bathed and drank in its waters….” For a sense of theater, sheer drama and panache, his next act could not be equalled by the best actor on any stage. Raising himself from the water and pointing to the waters of the tank with a sweep of his hand he addressed the impatient Kasyapa and his retinue thus ” This here my friends is my whole wealth !”

They stared at him dumbfounded and at a loss for words on hearing this but it was not long before the dam of pent up anger in King Kasyapa burst forth. In a towering rage, his dreams of treasure now shattered , he commanded Migara “Slay my father !” Revenge at last ! Adorning himself with his ornaments (as recorded in the Culavamsa) Migara went before Dhathusena and as the chronicler wrote “strutted up and down before him”. What happened next is poetic and almost holy because the ex-king was unaware that he was doing what a certain carpenter and teacher from the town of Nazareth in Palestine had commanded about 500 years before his time, and was recorded in the New Teatament section of the Christian Bible. He turned the other cheek ! Seeing Migara King Dhatusena told him “I have the same feelings for thee as for Moggallana”. Migara on hearing this laughed out aloud and shook his head. It was then that Dhatusena finally realised he was doomed. As recorded, he thought ” Today he will slay me….” But even in these last moments of life, I aver that he would never have imagined what manner of death awaited him.

Evil incarnate walked the earth that day – or, at least made its presence and influence felt in that part of the island where his murder was planned. Whoever devised the manner of his death had fine tuned the word “cruelty” and taken it to barbaric and demonic heights. On hearing King Kasyapa’s order, Dhatusena was immediately stripped naked . They stood him upright, and bound him with chains and fetters in a niche in the wall. The Culavamsa is not specific about which particular wall. It records that “they bound him with chains and fetters in a niche in the wall, and and with his face outwards, closed it up with clay…..” I humbly opine that since they would not place him in the wall of any public building, the wall referred to by the chronicler is in a section of the bund of the Kalawewa tank. They would not have built a special wall for the purpose as this was time consuming. The words “closed it up with clay” has deeper and horrific meaning. It means that as the ex king was being walled alive, the sadists must have gloated seeing the sheer terror on his face. My interpretation of this line is that Dhatusena’s torture even in death was increased by the fact that he was a “witness” to the slow process of his own death, by “watching” himself being buried alive from his feet upwards. Even after the wall was completely sealed, it does not mean that he died immediately. His spirit must have fought to the bitter end, and his final moments are best left to one’s imagination. Immured while still alive in a wall of clay, death came to him bit by bit in agonising gasps………..More horrible to contemplate is what his final thoughts were before he drew his last breath. He may have taken his last breath – if breathing was possible under these circumstances – with stoic dignity, or he may have died cursing the Gods.

Nobody knows if the charioteer was a witness to this gruesome murder. What a story he had to tell his children and grandchildren ! He kept the ola leaf given him by King Dhatusena with meticulous care. As will be seen in the next instalment of this trilogy, the ola leaf changed his life. I awoke with a sense of dread having “witnessed” a tragedy of Grecian proportions, my soul chilled with the sheer terror of what I had seen. It was now almost dusk and very soon night would fall…..At night this area must be a place of restless spirits who find no rest because life was so cruelly taken away from them. King Dhatusena was not buried, neither was he cremated. The fact that he was immured while still alive in a wall made me wonder if he was trapped in time and still finds no rest. There is a legend in this area that his restless spirit can never leave these environs…….But now, there is a bitter pill to swallow. Admirers of this great King will have to sip the dregs of the bitter chalice. There is a line in the Christian Bible which says “As you reap so shall you sow…..” In the vernacular of today’s world the phrase is “What goes around comes around”. In other words ” Every action has a reaction….” Dhatusena is the luckless victim in this tale, who lost his life, because he had the courage of his convictions. But when he was King and the Kalawewa tank was under construction with building activity going on at a frenzied pace, King Dhatusena was guilty of a dastardly deed of wanton cruelty.

A Buddhist monk lost in meditation was directly in the path of construction one day. The engineers asked him very respectfully to move aside so that they could continue with their mammoth task without interruption. This venerable monk, in his meditative and ecstatic state of mind was perhaps unaware of his surroundings. Frustrated, the engineers reported the matter to King Dhatusena telling him that this monk was holding up construction, refusing to move. There are two accounts of what happened next. One is that the King himself enraged, “flung a clod of earth” (Culavamsa) at the monk’s head. The other is more dire. It states that on the King’s orders, the workmen piled up the rubble around the monk, thus burying him alive…….What a bitter twist of fate and cruel irony befell this King about twenty years later when he was immured alive perhaps in his own masterpiece.

The parricide King Kasyapa, in some way draws a parallel with another fictional character in the Christian Bible – The Prodigal Son. In this story, the prodigal son demands his inheritance from his father, goes to a foreign land but squanders it in wasteful living, ultimately ending up working in a pigsty to keep body and soul together. He then repents and goes back home to his father where he is welcomed with open arms. Conversely, the prodigal King Kasyapa ( “prodigal” in the sense of being rash and reckless) demanded his share of wealth from his father and when it was denied him resorted to murder. But he was a parricide with the soul of an artist, and against all the odds battled his own demons and ruled the country for eighteen peaceful years – a reign marked with numerous good deeds and meritorious works. His crowning glory and architectural and engineering wonder evokes awe and admiration from all who visit it – the royal city and palace complex of Sigiriya which must have been, apart from human beings who defied gravity, built by giants and angels.

All things pass but history. History never dies. It is what defines us as a civilisation, and we live out our collective histories everyday – both good and evil.

Eighteen long years were to pass before the charioteer makes a dramatic entrance once more in this story………

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THE KING THE CHARIOTEER – NOW THE GATEKEEPER (Part 3 )

It was the year 497 AD, the second year of King Moggallana’s reign. The political instability of the previous year when he began a persecution of officials who had served under his father, and whom he believed had colloborated with his step brother in staging the coup d ‘etat which resulted in the late King’s brutal murder, was a distant nightmarish memory. Scion of a royal dynasty, son of a famous father, he was also a soldier who had lived in exile in India for eighteen years, raising an army to avenge his father – no easy task for a young prince in a foreign land. The school of life had taught him valuable lessons and here he was, an ex-soldier now a King in his own right. A statesman, intellectual, philanthropist and a staunch defender of the faith, King Moggallana soon endeared himself to his subjects. He ruled a land whose culture artistic and engineering achievements rivalled – even far superseded – her contemporaries in the ancient world. In hydraulic engineering, the engineers of Lanka had no equal. Even today, one is filled with profound admiration seeing these monuments and gigantic irrigation works which have stood the ravages of time and are archaeological wonders of the world – a dazzling testimony to the architectural and engineering skill of the ancient Sinhalese which made Lanka a land of surpassing splendour.

By day the royal court was a hive of activity. The King liaised with officials of the various ministries regarding all matters pertaining to government. He also appointed administrative officials in various provinces who had been given full authority and jurisdiction to carry out their duties. Since these officials could not be present at meetings in court, often a rider on horseback , a deputy of the officials concerned, would be seen dismounting at the palace gates requesting an audience with the King. The royal guard were given strict instructions to cleart these deputies to see him immediately. In the fields golden stalks of paddy swayed to a gentle breeze. Farmers anticipated a bumper harvest. Agriculture thrived , and Moggallana had his finger on the pulse ensuring that his minister and officials responsibe for agriculture and trade, briefed him with facts and figures at regular meetings in the palace when all matters pertaining to government were discussed and steps taken to rectify any shortcomings. The islands harbours were full of foreign ships and the islands trade – thanks to a vibrant foreign policy begun by his father the late King Dhatusena and also followed by his late step brother King Kasyapa – was on the increase resulting in valuable currency pouring into the treasury coffers. In the evenings life at court took on a fairy tale atmosphere. The King betook himself to the great hall to receive guests and hand out gifts. At times a foreign ambassador at the Kings discretion would receive an invitation to be present on such occasions. Handsome courtiers with their wives and lovers were entertained by musicians and dancers – lovely women, youthful and full of grace. And King Moggallana with his Queen revelled in the splendour of the evenings entertainment, but more in the thought that he had a grip on ruling the country. His extraordinary talent for administration was paying rich dividends and better still, people thought of him as a benevolent monarch.

In a distant hamlet far from the capital Anuradhapura, one man dared to dream. Twenty one years had passed since the tragic death of King Dhatusena and the charioteer could not erase the horrendous events of that dark day from his mind. The Kings last moments haunted him and had left an indelible mark on the countrys psyche. The passage of time had only embedded it deeper in the collective memory of the nation. The fact that he had the ola leaf with a message inscribed by the late King for Moggallana, intensified his recollections of that nightmarish day. It must be clarified here that the ola leaf is taken from the Talipot tree, and then made into a kind of parchment. What the charioteer had was this parchment with the late King’s inscribed message. Over the years he had treasured this priceless gift looking after it with meticulous care. It was the second year of King Moggallana’s reign, and he decided that the time had come to act. He had to make his way to the royal capital and seek an audience with the King – a daunting task for a humble charioteer. Since the capital had shifted to Anuradhapura after Sigiriya was abandoned, work was scarce except for a few assignments he received from the Kings representatives in the district. Having worshipped at the small temple close to his home and obtaining the blessings of the venerable monk, he set out one day on what would be his journey of destiny.

The royal capital of Anuradhapura lay dreaming in the sun. This was the city that King Pandhukabhaya chose for his

capital in the 5th century B.C. It was no ordinary city. By the first century A.D. it ranked with Babylon and Nineveh as one of the great cities of the world. The vast irrigation tanks, the massive dagobas , the courts, the beautiful Mahamega gardens and the numerous temples and parks were only some its attractions which lent it an air of enchantment. Here every prospect pleased the traveller. The city was filled with the usual throng of people – local and foreign going about their business. During the reign of King Bathika Abhaya 38 – 66 A.D. and the Kings that succeeded him, there were special residential quarters in the city for the Greeks, ( known as the “Yavanas”) the Romans and Indian merchants. After King Moggallana ascended the throne there were also special quarters for Persian merchants. And of course the Chinese were there for as long as one cared to remember.

The royal palace was set amidst its own landscaped gardens which the skill of some unknown botanists had turned into gardens of paradise. From a distance the tired charioteer having made the long journey from his home far away, took in this intoxicating scene his senses reeling. He had heard of the capital, but nothing had prepared him for this sight which was almost extra terrestrial. He did not know it then but in this capital were three dagobas which were the second largest and highest in the world – they were only outranked by the Great Pyramid of Cheops in distant Egypt. And the Ruvanwelisaya Dagoba built during the reign of that legendary King Dutugemunu, was the largest monument of its kind anywhere in the world It was now dusk and he decided to seek shelter for the night in one of the alms halls in the city where the weary traveller could find a nights repose.

The veteran soldiers on guard duty eyed the shabby figure before them with some amusement which turned to raucous laughter when he requested an audience with the King. Nobody, they told him, could walk up to the royal palace willy nilly and demand to see the King ! There were protocols to be followed, and such audiences had to be arranged through the proper channels following due protocol. An application had to be made through the secretary of the court and an interview sought. This took time and audiences if granted, were scheduled in order of priority and importance because his majesty had vital matters of state requiring his attention – a time consuming process. All this was beyond the charioteer. Weary in soul and body, he decided to play his trump card. Very calmly he told them he had a message from the late and great King Dhatusena for his son the King. If ever there was a deafening silence and time stood still, it was at this precise moment. The very mention of King Dhatusena’s name rendered the soldiers speechless. All they were capable of was staring wide eyed at the charioteer, stupefied ! Regaining their senses they summoned their commander and briefed him on what had ensued. Things moved at a frantic pace after that. The commander went direct to the Kings secretary and the very name “Dhatusena” seemed to open all doors. One moment the charioteer was remonstrating with the guards outside the royal palace. The next he was taken into the palace accompanied by two courtiers, and led through a series of corridors. It was his turn to be rendered speechless now because never before had he seen such elegant furnishings and decor. Finally, his heart racing he was ushered into a magnificient hall and at the far end he saw the stately figure of King Moggallana on his throne surrounded by some nobles and palace personnel. The King asked him to step forward in a kindly voice to put him at ease, since he perceived this man was almost a nervous wreck . With some gentle prodding the charioteer approached the throne and flung himself on the floor paying obeisance to his King To the amazement of all present, Moggallana arose, bent down and gently lifted the charioteer to his feet, asking him what his business was.

With tears streaming down his face he told the King that he had a message for him from his late father, King Dhatusena. It was now King Moggallana who was at a loss for words. The charioteer with trembling hands still weeping handed over the parchment to the King. On reading the message the King seemed to hear his fathers voice from another world nineteen years after his death. By now the emotion filled drama of this meeting had touched everyone present, and silent tears were shed. Let the chronicler take over here. This is what the Culavamsa recorded “When the charioteer who had given his father roasted corn showed his letter to King Moggallana, the King wept and praised him for the love he had borne his father…..”

What is implied here is that King Moggallana shed all self control and freely gave vent to his emotions, so affected was he at seeing his father’s writing on the parchment. Nobody dared move or speak as King and commoner in a meeting of hearts and minds, wept in unison at the recollection of a man they had both loved. The long silence was broken only when the King finally regained his composure. His hand on the charioteers shoulder, he summoned his secretary and some other court officials and told them that as a reward, he was appointing the charioteer as ‘Gatekeeper’ to the royal court. Due procedure was dispensed with, and the appointment came from the highest authority in the land. It would become effective immediately. The word today sounds very menial. But at that time it was a position of great responsibility which included among other aspects of the job, responsibility for egress and ingress of all transport in and out of the palace – carts, chariots, handcarts and also anybody entering the royal precincts on horseback or on foot. It was also a position of authority. On hearing this, overwhelmed with gratitude the charioteer was about to go on his hands and knees in a gesture of gratitude and obeiance to his Lord and Master, but the King restrained him and drew him to his side. He further let it be known that the charioteer and his family would take up residence in the quarters adjoining the palace, and orders were issued that the necessary transport be provided for bringing them from their hamlet in the rural hinterland in far off Kalawewa to Anuradhapura. And with a happy ending in the life of this humble man, the charioteer disappears from history’s pages…..King Moggallana died in 513 A.D, in the seventeenth year of his reign.

Is there something sinister about the number 18, or has numerology in any way impacted the lives of King Dhatusena, King Kasyappa , and King Moggallana ? King Dhatusena ruled from 460 – 478 A.D. King Kasyappa ruled from 478 – 496 A.D. followed by King Moggallana who was King from 496 – 513 A.D. – just one year short of an eighteen year reign. Strange but true…..

Out of the mists of time from another dimension in a distant past we have a message from the charioteer who tells us “You must have a dream – and dare to dream. If you lose your dreams you lose hope. And when you lose hope you die……”

The unknown Charioteer – 497 A.D – Later The Gatekeeper in the Royal Palace.

EPILOGUE

The countryside in the vicinity of the Kalawewa tank, the hydrological and engineering marvel of King Dhatusena’s engineers is bathed in radiant beauty. (I do not use the adjective lightly. The bund of this tank has never been breached to this day, a fact which astounded some Italian and English engineers who visited the area during a major flood in December 1957.) The entire region is lush and green in the daytime, having been favoured with nature’s blessings, and serenely beautiful at night with the silvery light of the moon reflected in its waters. In the glory days of Sigiriya the place must have been a landscape artists dream…..the Aukana temple and the majestic Aukana Buddha statue dominating the countryside, visible to the naked eye for miles around, the splendour of the Kalawewa tank with its life giving waters, the Sasaruwa temple which was a prototype for the Aukana statue and to top it all the fabled royal garden city of Sigiriya which was in its heyday one of the most beautiful garden cities in the world.

Yet against the backdrop of all this beauty, an adored king, his son by the royal queen and a son by a concubine were fated to enact a sordid drama of greed, and lust for power which culminated in a horrible murder which destabilised the land, divided the population, and worse, sowed disunity among the clergy. Except for Prince (later King) Moggallana who died a natural death in 513 AD, King Kassyapa committed suicide on the field of battle. Although the Culavamsa confirms that he was given a royal burial by Prince Moggallana, there is no record regarding his place of burial or cremation. King Dhatusena literally “watched” his own barbaric murder and horrible death having been immured alive in a wall. But the place or site of this ghastly deed has still not been determined due to lack of records in the great chronicle. The theory down the ages is that he was walled while still alive in the bund of the Kalawewa tank. But without solid written evidence, this remains just that – a theory.

Across the vast ocean of time – after 1540 years – one wonders if this gruesome drama is played out in the stygian darkness of a lonely night in the very spot it took place centuries ago, by the spirits who find no rest……….The night has a thousand eyes………