Dispensing
a vedakama once fit for a queen
By Kumudini Hettiarachchi
The tiny house is half-built but one room is fully
functional. Rows of bottles filled with liquid line the walls. A
table and two chairs sit squat in the middle. It is the consultation
room of 70-year-old Waidyaratne Mudiyanselage Mahamud Lebbe Sahabdeen
in the village of Handessa off Pilimatalawa. Just another veda mahattaya
in a small village, eking out a living by dispensing some arishta,
kasaya, kalka or guli?
"Not
just another one," smiles Sahabdeen asking a question in return:
"How is it that I have got half a Sinhala name as well?"
And
there hangs a tale going back nine generations to the time when
Buvaneka Bahu IV ruled the kingdom from Gampola from 1341-51. The
Queen was very ill and the King was in despair. Each day, her condition
worsened and the best physicians in the whole of the kingdom could
do nothing. Out went the anda-bera karayas (tom-tom beaters), fanning
across the land seeking someone who could cure the Queen.
Out
there was Ahmed Lebbe Abubuckerpulle, a forefather of Sahabdeen.
He was an ayurvedic doctor in Boowelikada, Kandy. He had come from
Saudi Arabia but married in Ceylon and settled down in his adopted
land. Even then he was famous among the people of the area. He was
co-opted to go treat the Queen. But the King was reluctant to allow
a stranger to see the Queen let alone touch her.
As
a test of the skills of this veda mahattaya, the King decreed that
he should check the pulse (naadi) of the Queen from a thread tied
to her wrist and drawn out through the door. Once the thread was
in his hand, Ahmed Lebbe had been quick with his response - "This
is the pulse of a stone and not of a human."
When
the King's minions tried out the same tactic for the second time,
the answer had been, "This is the pulse of an animal, a cat
and not of a human". The third time too the veda mahattaya
had shaken his head and said, "Though this is the pulse of
a human it is not that of a pinwantha ayaek". The royal household
had been left dumbfounded, for the pulse had been of a servant girl's.
Finally,
the King had been satisfied that the veda mahattaya was qualified
to treat the Queen. The disease had been diagnosed as a santhi rogayak.
For curing the Queen, the King had not only showered Ahmed Lebbe
with thegi-boga (gifts) but also bestowed on him nambu nama in the
form of "Waidyaratne Mudiyanselaga" and also nindagam
in Dhaskara village. Thereafter he had been appointed the physician
of the royal household.
"We
still hold the secrets of our ancestors," says Sahabdeen adding
that their speciality is sarwanga leda. Treating at least 10 people
every day, he says some illnesses cannot be cured only with medication.
Recalling such a case, Sahabdeen says he was called at 1 in the
morning to see a man lying with his head thrown back and his mouth
wide open, unable to shut his mouth.
"I
told all the men to leave the room and called in some women of the
household. Then I asked the patient to get off the bed. While he
was doing so, I broke off his sarong. In horror, the man uttered
"hum" and clutched at his sarong. This is veda prayogaya.
With that his head was back to normal and his mouth was closed,"
says Sahabdeen.
What
of the next generation -- will the secrets go into the grave with
Sahabdeen? "No, no," he shakes his head. “I am teaching
the healing touch to my daughter.""I am a bit scared but
I do try my hand at curing children and women," says Zeenathul
Fareena, 32, a mother of three who lives with the old man and sees
him at work.
Very
soon she will get the courage to continue this traditional method
of treatment coming down from ancient times. Of that Sahabdeen is
confident. |