The Sri Lankan New Year (Avurudu to the Sinhalese, Puthu Varudam to the Tamils) is perhaps the country’s biggest cultural celebration: a coming together of two different races and religions; the Sinhalese Buddhists and the Tamil Hindus, as they observe the spiritual customs and traditions of this two-day festival. There are varying religious observances in both the Sinhalese and Buddhist cultures, that have been passed down for generations These rituals make up the most significant aspect of the celebrations (aside from the consumption of sweetmeats and the getting together of friends and family) and each year during the festival, they are respectfully observed according to the auspicious times decided upon by astrologers.
However, the auspicious times ‒ or the nekath as they are referred to in Sinhalese ‒ were not introduced with the advent of Buddhism or even Hinduism; it was, in fact, an aspect of a much older culture, the Naga tribe of ancient Sri Lanka. The word nekath itself is a word that can be traced back to the Naga people. As our history textbooks have taught us, the Nagas (also known as the Cheras) were one of the ancient tribes who inhabited Sri Lanka, along with the Yaksha and Raaksha tribes, when Prince Vijaya arrived at what he called Thambapanni in the 5th century B.C.
Until the 3rd century B.C. the Naga tribe appears as a distinct group in the Mahavamsa and other early Sinhalese chronicles, as well as early Tamil literary works. As mentioned in these chronicles of old, they lived in the Kelaniya area and the Northern peninsula. The island of Nagadeepa or Nainativu just off the coast of Jaffna was, in fact, the setting of many legends and Jataka Katha, including that of the warring Naga chieftains Chulodara and Mahodara, and of Maha Ahikka (the uncle of these two chieftains) meeting with the Lord Buddha.
By the 9th century A.D. the Naga people had integrated with the Sinhalese and Tamil culture. The word Naga literally means ‘snake’ or ‘serpent’ in Sanskrit, and the Naga tribe was a totemic tribe of serpent worshippers who considered the serpent as a creature of great power. Since ancient times, the Hindus, too, have regarded the cobra as a divine being; a cobra can be found entwined around the neck of the Hindu god Shiva, and has also been associated with the god Vishnu. Even in Buddhism, symbolism of the cobra is ubiquitous. According to Buddhist scriptures, the serpent-king Muchalinda shielded Lord Buddha from the rain by coiling around him and holding his large hood above the Buddha’s head. These connotations may have been influenced by the culture of the Nagas, whose roots can be traced back to India as well.
Modern day astrologers make use of the motion of the sun through these nekath to pinpoint the exact time of the dawning of the avurudu. Every year, the sun moves through the circuit of 12 constellations, and, according to the principle of astrology, it is the sun’s entrance to the first base of Aries (which is known as the Asvida Neketha) after its exit from the Revanthi Neketha, (the last base of the constellation of Pisces) that symbolises the dawn of the Sinhala and Tamil New Year. According to a mathematical calculation of planetary motion linked with the Sinhala and Tamil New Year, the Sankranthi or the Nonagathaya (which is the transitional period of the sun’s movement from Pisces to Aries) is 12 hours and 48 minutes. It is at the end of this time period that the avurudu celebrations begin.
According to historical sources, the Sinhala and Tamil New Year was originally celebrated as a harvest festival and a festival of the sun, because agriculture was the primary source of livelihood among the Lankans of the olden days, and nature, the elements, and the astrological bodies were much revered in our ancient culture. Over the centuries, however, Buddhist and Hindu customs and rituals have become assimilated to it, as the two religions became major influences on our culture and evolved into distinct communities of their own.
Today, it is a national festival, and can be said to symbolise the unity of two separate cultures and religions. In spite of the current temperamental weather that yields hot, humid mornings and (if we’re lucky) rainy evenings, the prospect of enjoying sweetmeats lovingly shared among family, friends, and neighbours is something which we Lankans can all look forward to.
Roar wishes its readers a happy and prosperous new year.