Drums can look dreadful and deadly. They did for me. Some big and tall, heavy and fat and barrel like or bowl shaped. And there was wonderment. There was questioning as to how drummers can get hold of such heavy instruments. I was dumb back then.
Growing up doesn’t necessarily mean you are not going to be dumb anymore. I could be dumber than I was as a kid, now.Two years back, I was 20, when my family made the journey twice to Kandy. Once it was alms offered to Dalada Maligawa by a relative. The second was the Katina poojawa organized and financed by one of the family friends. Unlike the alms, Katina had more things to be done. There was so much of preparing. We stayed in Kandy for two days. We were obliged to carry out the thevava (daily rituals) in Maligawa, in other words to offer Gilan pasa before night break and kiri pindu poojawa at dawn. Of everything I saw thevava grabbed my ears and eyes. It starts with the hewisi pooja, the drumming at the hewisi mandapaya at the Pahala Maluwa. The drummers played continuously for hours and hours. No tea breaks or breaks for water. Even then I wondered how drummers spot the exact place to get the rhythm going, do they know if they are playing the right note and aren’t there palms and legs going hurt when playing for hours and hours? But these questions were kept in heart. Thevava is not done just for a day, but every morning and evening. I realized there will be even more drumming on days like Pasaloswaka poya, Perahara and Wednesdays, where a special thevava is conducted.
It is exciting to see another drumming. It is a pleasure to listen and admire an expert drummer’s improvisations. Especially to see the hands and heads moving in an eye blink. There is so much power and presence that hits the backbone and pulse, makes us sit up straight, stunned and eyes wide open. It is mysterious and will always be a mystery. I learned that drum is like heartbeat, the breath, the rain and thunder. There is blood pulled in and out the capillaries of hands that touch it’s taut membrane. There is big noise at once, lowered again and runs fast touching the tip of notes and slowly drifts putting a halt to the show. Drums are fascinating; drummers are a spellbinding creation for me. For example, the drummer will always know the notes by heart and for the listeners, some beats are unforgettable.
Recently, a photograph captured by Hiranya Malwatta, a friend only known through Facebook, got stuck in my mind. She had captured a ‘hewisi drummer' at Ambakke Dewalaya in Kandy. There were more pictures of drummers. The photograph took me all the way to the thevava in Dalada Maligawa, the drums and drummers I witnessed. The recollection ended with a little note to a drummer in the imperfect English I know.
Aye!
There is forgotten wound
and blood clot
in thimble
and musicology
to the drum and canister
that resonates beat
in reverence
to the guardian deities,
heart pounding and titillating,
heart fingers
to diminish evil
stiffened by cane
and fractured palm.
There is no break
during “thevava”
to your wrinkled feet,
spinning head
in eye blink ,
topknot that flourish in air ,
majestic and arrogant,
because it is
honor bestowing
privilege than business.
I don’t know the technical aspects of drumming, but there is ‘talking drum’ about what we believe and our traditions. There is a lot of learning, like patience and gratitude. There is humble culture and people connected with drum. I learned that one drummer‘s style cannot be followed by another. It’s always different.
Above everything when the drummer dies, the drum dies too. Because only a drummer will know his beats and the degree of pace to keep with his companions.
(Featured in "The Nation" on 2014 July 20)
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