Medicine is one area which has grown steadily in today’s world. Many forms of medical care are readily available. Sri Lanka has its own healing traditions from the time of our glorious monarchs who had personal physicians for themselves and veterinarians for their horses and elephants! The term Ayurveda has been around for centuries in Ceylon and India. The term would perhaps bring to mind the image of a rural apothecary clad in full white (sarong and shirt), his oily hair tied in a konde, seated on a wooden chair in the process of chewing betel. Then again, today the phrase Ayurveda has taken many forms, and is at times abusively used at local massage parlours and spas as a form of treatment by a bevy of women who know nothing about its rich heritage. But, thankfully there exist a genuine handful of practitioners, away from the spotlight.
I set out from Lake House on a Saturday morning with my colleague, Siripala Halwala in search of a man referred to as Tharana Vedhamathmaya. Driving away from Colombo the land yielded some serene paddy fields with patches of pineapple plots as we passed Yakkala. It was nice to see the odd buffalo cross the road.
After reaching the town of Pannala, we asked for directions towards Nikapotha road and soon pulled into the driveway of a spacious home surrounded by trees. The residence resonated with tranquility. An amiable looking soul was seated on a plastic chair. He got up and greeted me. Alas! this was the elusive Veda mahattaya. I was immediately struck by his black head of hair. At 66 years Jaysinghe Mudiyanselage Gunaratne displays the energy and aura of a 50 year old man. We soon engage in conversation.
It all began with his maternal grandfather, K.A. Appuhamy, who had a desire to help and care for people. This dear soul went onto live for 111 years. I was quite amazed and asked to see his photo. Veda mahattaya obliged and returned with a black and white photograph of his guru which he handed to me with much emotion. He recalls, when he was about ten years the old man would ask him to observe and assist in some forms of treatment. After the demise of his grandfather, Jayasinghe Gunaratne was not thinking of being a healer of any sort. He says, his grandfather appeared to him in a dream and requested him to carry on the healing art which had been passed onto him. Since that night he has ardently brought solace to his patients for the past 31 years. He is a specialist for spinal injuries. He asks me not to classify him as an Ayurveda healer but asks that he be understood as a man who brings relief to pain. Quite an interesting way to look at medicine!
Veda mahattaya begins his day at 3.30 am and cooks his own rice and curry for breakfast. He does not wish to trouble his married daughter who lives nearby. He starts his work at 8am and finishes at 1 in the afternoon. I ask him about the various bottles of oil stacked on a wooden shelf. He says, they make the oil only twice a year- as it is a long and tiring process. First, they have to venture into the forests of Bingiriya and the dense thickets of Naramala in search of the rare plants and roots. At times, he must endure being pricked by thorns to collect his prized plants. On his return he has to employ some
women folk at a cost of Rs 1,500 per day with lunch, to clean the leaves. A staggering 21 varieties of leaves go into one oil. The leaves are immersed in pots and buried underground for seven days. This system is used without boiling the leaves as done by many others. The vessels are taken out and the oils are then kept for another three months before they can yield their healing capacity. Tharana Veda mahattaya charges his patients only for the oil. It is said that he cures all his patients within three visits. He says, he does not desire money, and leads a truly simple life sleeping on a wooden bed with no mattress. I asked him if he is a vegetarian. He laughs and replies “I enjoy fried fish and a bit of chicken curry”.
I was able to witness him treat a patient. The lady was a mother, about 40 years, and on her third visit. I noticed her uncomfortable gait as she walked in, her concerned husband and father walking behind her. She was asked to go into a room and recline on a long elevated bed. Veda mahattaya motions me to come inside. I felt embarrassed. He asks me to enter. I witnessed him using both his hands to exert pressure on her spine. He moved his hand back and forth unlocking the “tension” in her bones. I was mildly puzzled. He helped the woman climb down from the bed. I asked her how she felt. She said, “I am now fully recovered”, to my surprise. She thanked the man and left. Veda mahattaya has also healed many Buddhist monks.
As we sit down under the shade of the canopy his beautiful daughter, Ramani serves tea. I am told that she has been apprenticing under her father for the past five years. The father proudly declares that someday she will carry on this traditional method of healing.
As we prepare to leave Ramani hands me a bottle of oil. I ask her what it is for, and she smilingly says it is for the few strands of grey hair visible on my head. Tharana Veda mahattaya has cured many patients suffering from spine related ailments. He is perhaps the last of a clan of authentic rural medicine men.
Pix by Siripala Halwala