5 days Ago By Firstpost
The pageantry and spectacle of celebrations have a certain allure that draws you in—their uniqueness lies in the traditions that shape them, offering a window into cultures and histories. The Kandy Esala Perahera, also known as the Festival of the Tooth, is one of Sri Lanka’s most cherished traditions, steeped in history that dates back to the third century BC. Every year, during the months of July and August, this festival unfolds under the light of the full moon on Esala Poya, a day that commemorates significant events in Buddhism.
What began as a humble ritual to implore the gods for rainfall has transformed over the centuries into a breathtaking cultural spectacle that harmoniously blends sacred reverence with jubilant celebration. At the heart of the Perahera is the Sacred Tooth Relic of Buddha, housed in the revered Sri Dalada Maligawa in Kandy. The grand procession pays tribute to this relic as it winds through the city, enchanting all who witness its splendour.
This tradition was revived during the reign of King Rajasinha of Kandy, with months of meticulous preparation leading to a stunning 15-day celebration that showcases the talents of over 1,500 performers from diverse backgrounds. As the procession unfolds, the roads come alive with dazzling traditional dances, whip crackers, acrobatic performers, and drummers. Up to 100 elephants and tuskers parade through the streets, led by the richly embellished tusker carrying the Sacred Tooth Relic, followed closely by the Diyawadana Nilame, the relic’s lay custodian.
While the grand finale—a breathtaking spectacle of elephants, dancers, and lights—captivates the audience, it’s the stories behind the scenes that add depth to the celebration, transforming the festival into a profound cultural experience. Before I embarked on my journey to Kandy and its surrounding villages, my first stop was a dance academy in Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte, near Colombo. As I watched their graceful movements, I was explained the deep roots of Kandyan dance.
Vidyapathi, a revered Kathakali actor and dancer, is an icon in Kandyan music and dance, known for his diverse body of work—from traditional choreographies and full-length ballets with linear plots to modern dance pieces and thematic ballets. The fluidity and precision of the movements were an exemplification of his influence, and I found myself mesmerised by the rich storytelling embedded within the art. The family of performers demonstrated the fundamental styles of Kandyan dance— Uda Rata Natum from the central highlands and Pahatha Rata Natum from the southern plains.
A week later, amidst the crowds at the Kandy Esala Perahera, I watched the Kandyan dancers perform those same elegant moves as if the essence of the dance had followed me from the academy to the festival. In the quiet town of Welligalla, near Kandy, my first stop was a factory that has been stitching elephant costumes for the Kandy Esala Perahera for over a decade. Each elaborate costume takes up to two months to complete and is made from the finest materials, including shimmering silver and gold needlework imported from India and Sri Lankan cotton known as Amu Redi .
The costumes consist of three layers—cotton, sponge, and velvet—meticulously embellished with embroidery. Rajapakse further added, “A single costume, made of seven pieces, takes three weeks to complete, with designs inspired by the artwork at the Sri Dalada Maligawa, featuring devotees, peacocks, and floral patterns, with the lotus symbolising purity.” Each elephant costume is an impressive design feat, weighing 35 to 50 kilograms and using nearly a million thread reels.
It was said that they create sets of three matching costumes, with three more in the same pattern. The lotus design, symbolising purity and resilience, features prominently, embodying beauty emerging from adversity. It was shared that “the Nil Manel, or the water lily, and other floral patterns carry deep Buddhist meanings, representing life in its entirety.
Some of these flower designs, like the ones found in the elephants’ costumes, depict the concept of Sansar , the cycle of life, death, and reincarnation. According to Buddhist teachings, one must attain Nirvana —enlightenment—to break free from this eternal cycle.” Also, “At the Kataragama Devale, peacock impressions are prominently featured, reflecting the Deity’s connection to this majestic bird.
” There are five such Peraheras, each with its own distinct design, making each procession a unique visual and spiritual journey. As I wandered through the factory, threads of silver, gold, pink, red, and many other colours hung from the weaving loom, and the hum of off-white machines filled the air. I watched as Janaka, Nimisha, and Iresha, laboured over the delicate details, focused on perfecting every element.
At that moment, I didn’t fully grasp the grandeur of what they were crafting. But later that week, when I stood in awe watching the majestic elephants parade through the streets, draped in those magnificent garments, it hit me. The costumes were breathtaking, as if the elephants themselves were adorned in bridal finery, shimmering and regal—each one a moving piece of art.
After leaving the factory, I journeyed through Sri Lanka’s lush, green countryside for about 30 minutes before arriving at Kuragala, a village renowned for its traditional musical instruments. The winding road of Palkumbura led us into a small community where only fifteen of the fifty families are skilled in making these instruments, each accredited by the Ministry of Traditional Industries and Small Business Development. I followed a steep, narrow path that led to Jaya Pal’s home—a modest, one-story cottage nestled among avocado trees.
Jay Pal’s family specialises in drum-making, a craft passed down through generations. The rhythmic sound of their work seemed to echo from the small workshop, where their hands shaped the heartbeats of the festival. As Jaya Pal and I set off deeper into the village along a winding path, the actual workshop revealed itself after a short walk.
Nestled among coconut, banana, and palm trees, the modest structure stood humbly beneath a thatched roof. Inside, Jaya Pal was joined by two other villagers, working side by side, carving drums from natural tree blocks. The atmosphere resonated with the sounds of chisels and hammers as they shaped the traditional Kandyan drum—known as the Geta Beraya or Udarata Beraya in Sinhalese.
Known as a “hill country drum,” the Geta Beraya boasts a distinctive barrel-like shape. I watched intently as the workers meticulously smoothed the surfaces of jackfruit wood ( Kos ) using a handcrafted drum shaper. Jaya Pal shared, “These drums can also be crafted from Kohomba (Neem) and Milla wood, each material contributing its unique character to the final product.
” In the workshop, I also noticed a rotating flange assembler delicately balanced on a double-edged wooden block, supported on one side by a wooden wheel cart. The drum-making process was intricate, involving locally made flange nailers, centre hole and plate hole machines, circle cutting and grooving machines, as well as tie rod holes, pinhole machines, and cable hole makers. Jaya Pal explained, “The Geta Beraya is a double-headed drum, measuring exactly 26.
3 inches in length with a maximum circumference of 33.46 inches at its centre.” With a glint of pride in his eyes, he guided me through the assembly process, demonstrating the care and craftsmanship that goes into creating each drum, turning raw materials into instruments of rhythm and tradition.
To create distinctive sounds, Jaya Pal uses cow and goat skin on the drum heads. With the drum suspended from his waist, he demonstrated fluidly precise playing. I noticed how the Kandyan drumming style differs from Indian classical music, featuring periodic tempo changes and unpredictable rhythms that ebb and flow in mesmerising bursts.
Later that week, during the Kandy Esala Perahera procession, I saw three types of drums accompanying dancers in traditional attire—white headpieces, breastplates, large waistbands, and flowing sarongs. The musicians celebrated musical notes with synchronised head shakes, sending their turbans flying. The drummers moved in near-telepathic coordination, creating an electric atmosphere that entranced me with the harmonious fusion of music and movement—an essence of Kandyan culture.
On one of the days leading up to the Kandy Esala Perahera, I also visited the workshops in the nearby village of Pilimathalawa to understand the craft of temple brass pieces. Brassware plays a crucial role in Sri Lankan temple rituals, much like its significance in India. Valued for its gold-like appearance, brass has been a favoured material for decorative purposes for centuries.
“Brass is often chosen for musical instruments and temple accessories due to its durability, low melting point, and excellent thermal conductivity.” In their workshops, two brothers skillfully transform brass into musical instruments, utilising long, thin tubes that serve as acoustic resonators. Due to the metal’s remarkable malleability and acoustic properties, these tubes are often folded or coiled, allowing for compact designs that produce rich sounds.
The brothers collaborate across two workshops, crafting a diverse array of brass instruments. Brassware can be found in numerous temples, including the revered Kandy Tooth Relic Temple. Exploring these behind-the-scenes elements made the festival even more meaningful.
It wasn’t just a spectacle to observe—it became a story I was part of, one that left me with lifelong lessons and a deeper appreciation for the cultural fabric that weaves this celebration together. With more than a decade of writing experience and a passion for exploring the world, the author is a travel journalist with a knack for captivating storytelling. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author.
They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views..
