by Lalitha K. Witanachchi
A cannon booms and the surrounding hills echo its sound. Excitement mounts as this heralds the beginning of the grandest spectacle that will wind its way along the streets of Kandy, the historic city of Sri Lanka.

From morning all roads lead to Kandy. Families of villagers in their Sunday best trek along narrow footpaths and assemble along the main road to catch the hundreds of buses, vans and lorries that go to Kandy. From every part of the island in overloaded vehicles people flock to the city. They settle on the pavements, the lake bund, and the more intrepid youths take their vantage point on tree tops. Patiently they wait for this magnificent spectacle of light and colour, the Esala Perahera.

And the hotels booked months ahead are crowded with tourists armed with cameras and videos, who have arrived from all parts of the world.

A bright full moon shines upon Kandy the beautiful city nestling in the hills.

Fountains spurt coloured jets of water in the lake as a million people wait patiently for the perahera, the religious procession that has wound its way along these streets for more than two hundred years.

A second cannon booms. All eyes turn towards the Temple of the Tooth, a place of a million lights set off against the backdrop of the primeval forest of Udawattakele.

The Temple known as the Dalada Maligawa enshrines a tooth of the Buddha, which is the most precious relic, the palladium of Sri Lanka.

A third cannon booms. The procession has begun. Whips crack, drums roll and troupes of dancers in scintillating costumes whirl and leap to the sound of crashing cymbals.

Rows of torch-bearers illuminate the streets with their lights held aloft. Once more the throb of martial music can be heard. Wave upon wave come the dancers keeping step to the pounding drums, heralding the procession of elephants.

In an orderly manner they approach, majestic in their bearing. They lumber along, three in a row, draped in shimmering trappings that sparkle in the light of myriads of electric jets.

Finally in all his majesty comes the Maligawa tusker. Decked in sating emblazoned with scintilating diamonds of light, he carries the casket of the Tooth.

Simple mortals bend low in veneration as a white ‘Pavada’ is unrolled before him. Cries of ‘Sadhu! Sadhu’ rend the air as young and old with uplifted hands worship this holy of holies of the Buddhist world.

Behind the Maligawa tusker come the Diyawadana Nilame the lay custodian of the temple and other chieftains of different devales. Wrapped in rolls of ceremonial robes, wearing brocade jackets and slippers, they walk with measured tread.

More dancers, elephants and torch-bearers follow. Last of all come men carrying palanquins in which the former queens of Kandy travelled. A few more torch-bearers, and then like a flood the sea of humanity spills into the streets.Now the streets are packed with jostling crowds as they go their separate ways, back to their distant villages, and towns. Blaring horns and traffic jams and cries of lost children add to the confusion. But there are no frayed nerves. Instead there is pride and comradeship for everyone has travelled backwards in time and seen a part of the splendour of Sri Lanka’s historic past.