|
|
 Nothing in Sri Lanka captures
the imagination more than a 200 meter lump of granite that rises starkly
above the flat central plains about three and a half hours' drive from
Colombo.
Sigiriya (say see-gih-REE-yah)
has it all -- a blood-stained history full of intrigue, astonishing frescos
of bare-breasted maidens painted 15 centuries ago, a wall covered in
graffiti that is more than 1,000 years old and, to top it all, Asia's oldest
surviving landscape garden.
Dark deeds led to the establishment
of Sigiriya as the center of the ancient Sinhalese Kingdom for a period of
18 years in the late 5th Century. The reign of King Dhatusena came to an
abrupt end in 477 A.D. when his throne was seized by Kasyapa, his son by a
wife of unequal birth. Kasyapa's action was prompted by the fear that his
younger half-brother Mogallan, who was born of the anointed queen, would take
over the throne. Kasyapa was convinced that his father was hiding a cache of
treasure from him, and demanded that the King reveal where this wealth was hidden.
Dhatusena took the young usurper to the bund of the Kalawewa, the greatest of
his irrigation works, below which lived a venerable monk who had been his
teacher and companion of many years. There, the old King pointed, was the
sum of all his wealth. In a fit of pique, Kasyapa ordered the old
man to be walled up alive and naked in his own tomb. Meanwhile, Mogallan
survived an assassination attempt by his brother and fled to India to raise
an army. Paranoia, arrogance and delusions of divinity drove Kasyapa to
leave the traditional Sinhalese capital of Anuradhapura and construct his
palace on the peak of Sigiriya Rock, a perfect lookout which could be easily
defended; a huge lion was carved out of the rock. Seven years after
ascending the throne, he moved into his new home.
Visitors to the palace entered
via a stone stairway that took them into the lion's mouth and through its
throat -- hence Sigiriya's alternative name, "Lion Rock." Only the lion's
massive paws remain today, but they indicate how gigantic the rest of the
carving must have been. A new stairway has been attached to the side of
the rock to allow access to the summit, enabling visitors to stroll around
the ruins of the palace and gasp at the panoramic views. Two water tanks,
used for bathing and drinking, still fill with rain water, but in Kasyapa's
day a sophisticated pumping system was used to fill the tanks from a lake at
the foot of the rock.
Sigiriya is approached from
the west over a moat that encloses an elaborate water garden that runs up
to the foot of the rock. A stone stairway takes visitors past caves and
hollows, where early Buddhist monks lived and worshipped, to a gallery half
way up the rock which is enclosed by a three-meter high wall. Large sections
of the so-called Mirror Wall are still intact, and is here that graffiti
artists have inscribed their neat messages, many of them more than ten
centuries old and some, alas, partially obscured by the scrawled initials of
modern egoists. Most of the ancient graffiti refers to the
Sigiriya Maidens, who are to be found up a spiral staircase about 14
meters above the Mirror Wall gallery in a natural pocket in the rock which
has been protected for centuries from the rain by an overhang. Nobody knows
who painted these amazing frescoes, but the Maidens testify to a highly
advanced Sinhalese civilization at a time when Europe was in the Dark Ages.
It is not known whether Kasyapa
knew of the existence of the beauties hidden just below his eyrie, but what
is known is that the King came to a sticky end, perhaps deservedly. In 495,
his brother Mogallan at last returned from India with an army of combined
Chola and Sinhalese troops behind him and Kasyapa descended from his impregnable
stronghold to meet him in battle. At a crucial stage in the battle, the King's
elephant balked at a hidden swamp before him and momentarily turned aside,
making his troops believe he was retreating. His army broke in confusion,
leaving Kasyapa defenseless. Flamboyant to the last, he drew his dagger,
slashed his own throat, raised the blade high in the air and sheathed it
again before falling down dead.
Sigiriya's halcyon days ended
with Kasyapa's death. But the grandeur of this astonishing rock lives on.
|
|
