Beneath the quiet dignity of the Buddhist Maha Vihara in Brickfields, founded
in 1894 and now enclosed by the glass, steel, and ceaseless motion of a modern
city, time itself appears to pause. The world beyond presses forward with
urgency and ambition, yet within these grounds, stillness abides. Perhaps it is
so because where the Dhamma is the very purpose of existence, time relinquishes
its authority.
This sacred place stands not merely as
architecture fashioned of stone and cement, but as a living continuum of faith
sustained through intention, sacrifice, and unwavering devotion. My wife,
Greeja, traces her lineage to her great-great-grandfather, Mr. Udanis, among
the earliest Sinhalese settlers in Malaya, whose efforts helped establish and
nourish the early flowering of the Buddha’s Dispensation in this land. What was
once a fragile seed, planted with faith and perseverance, has endured through
generations, taking firm root and maturing into the thriving Buddhist
congregation that exists in Kuala Lumpur today, among whom is the De Silva
family, to which Greeja belongs.
Today, however, our presence here is of a more
intimate and solemn nature. We have come to offer prayers and merit in
remembrance of Greeja’s dearly departed aunt, Madam Lalitha Pathmalata De
Silva. In this act of recollection and offering, the temple becomes a mirror, reflecting
back to us the fundamental truth proclaimed by the Blessed One:
“All conditioned things are impermanent.”
(Sabbe saṅkhārā aniccā)
This truth was not taught by the Buddha as a
matter of abstraction but revealed through compassion grounded in wisdom. Once,
a woman named Kisā Gotamī, distraught by the death of her only child,
approached the Buddha carrying the child’s lifeless body, imploring him for
medicine to restore him to life. Seeing her sorrow, the Buddha neither
dismissed her anguish nor fed her despair with false hope. Instead, he asked
her to bring a mustard seed obtained from a household untouched by death.
With faith in his words, Kisā Gotamī went from
door to door. Mustard seeds were readily given, yet in every household she
encountered the same truth, a parent lost, a spouse mourned, a child
remembered. There was not a single home free from death. Through this quiet
pilgrimage, her grief was gradually transformed. What had been borne as a
private tragedy was revealed as the universal condition of all beings subject
to birth. Returning to the Buddha, she understood that what arises must pass
away, and that clinging to what is impermanent is itself the root of suffering.
So too does loss remind us, gently, yet
unmistakably, that life is fleeting, that those we love are entrusted to us
only for a time, and that all compounded things are in ceaseless change. Yet
within this truth there is no call to despair. As the Buddha taught Kisā
Gotamī, within impermanence lies the ground for wisdom, restraint, and
compassion. The Dhamma does not ask us to deny sorrow, but to see clearly the
nature of existence and to live in a way that is blameless, mindful, and
generous.
Thus, amid the fragrance of incense and the
measured cadence of chanting, surrounded by generations of devotion and the
quiet certainty of change, we are reminded why the path matters. Not to stand
against impermanence, but to understand it, and not to cling to what must pass,
but to cultivate what does not decay. In aligning the heart with the Dhamma,
one learns to meet arising and passing away with wisdom, dignity, and peace.
SADHU … SADHU … SADHU
ravivarmmankkanniappan@1540240120263.12786°
N, 101.68679° E
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