Clouds and Daffodils: 2010.12.30: Towards Enlightenment

So it came to be that the prince sat underneath that very tree for forty-nine days and became Buddha. Today an offspring of the offspring of that very tree marks that spot in Bodhgaya, Bihar. Its beauty accentuated by the surrounding temple complex: The Mahabodhi Temple. The main building has a history chronicling back many centuries. Recently, Buddhists from Buddhist countries have constructed their own temples in its vicinity. All are lushly decorated with bright colors, rich ornaments, and green gardens; they sooth my eye and leave me impressed. However, they disturb me too; here in Bihar — one of the poorest states of India — their grandeur feels out of place. Poverty is staring at me through the large eyes of two naked children, playing in a pile of garbage next to a temple.

This setting of mixed impressions and complementary feelings accompanied me in Bodhgaya. Today I attended the final celebration of the 900th anniversary of the Karma Kagyu Lineage. Actually, I only witnessed the morning ceremony at the Mahabodhi temple; it was held underneath that wonderful tree. The afternoon session was celebrated in a tent, which was so busy that I left. I didn’t want a real Buddhist to miss out, because of me occupying a seat. Besides, the early part of they day had already given me plenty impressions.

The event was very much like a birthday party: Incantations were sung, a cake was offered, many guests were invited (and had shown up), during the celebrating tea and snacks were distributed. In the end a big treat, in the form of a packed lunch, was given to every attendant. The ceremony was nice. The sun shone on a crowd that had come from all over the world, trough the leaves of the tree. A few monks and laymen were praying, but most were listening to and reading along with the incantations.

There was a wonderful, peaceful — serene — atmosphere. All ended in an anticlimax when lunch was handed out. The important guests had just left and soon I would discover it was for a good reason; a tsunami of local children engulfed the compound as soon as the food distribution had started. Security staff used large sticks to beat and intimidate the waves of little beggars; the poor ones were running all over the place, still aggressively persuading foreigners — me — to give up their lunch. I kept two candy bars and gave the rest away. I withhold my urge to take a leaf from the holy tree as I left. I had more mixed feelings accompanying me than ever before.

All in all it might not surprise you that I don’t think it’s likely I’ll return to Bodhgaya in the conceivable future. However, something exciting from Bodhgaya won’t return either.

In my bag is a small porcelain box with an ugly metal construction put around it. I bought it. It’s intriguing. It’s light green and has motives painted on its sides; underneath is a complicated red logo, I don’t know what that is yet; the top, the lid, has four colour painted Japanese women, they inspect an unrolled painting. Inside, however, are the two most interesting representations. Both are painted in blue only. One is on the backside of the lid, depicting a man and a women walking across a bridge in the forest and an old man following from a distance. Why is it there?

The reason I bought the box though, is found on the inside bottom. As if looking from behind a fence, one sees a man and a woman. They’re standing on a balcony, overlooking the courtyard and a garden; the woman is leaning with her elbows on the balustrade and the man is standing behind her. Both are not wearing anything to cover their legs; they’re — unmistakably — having sexual intercourse. What purpose does the box have?

Once I’ll know more I’ll dedicate a post to it.