477 AD. Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka.

29-year-old Prince Kassapa was filled with a deep burning desire to be king. So deep, it seemed to completely engulf him. To be the ruler of Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka’s ancient historical spiritual heart. How wondrous would that be!

And he would have been. Could have been. Except for one problem. His mother was the non-royal wife of Moriya King Dhatusena. The rightful heir to the coveted throne was his young half-brother Moggallana, offspring of his father’s chief consort.

Not to be deterred, Kassapa I, also known as Kashyapa I, decided to lead a palace coup with the help of Migara, the army commander who had a personal grudge of his own against the king. Young Moggallana, meanwhile, managed to escape, and took refuge in South India.

When Kassapa demanded to know the location of his father’s treasury, his imprisoned father responded saying Anuradhapura’s water tank was his one-and-only treasure. Miffed on hearing this, Kassapa had his father entombed alive.

For the rest of his life, Kassapa’s subjects and rivals, as well as the local Buddhist monks, would call him Pithru Ghathaka Kashyapa meaning Kashyapa the Patricide. It was a label he would not be able to shake off even after death.

In a bid to start afresh, away from public disgrace and the threat of a possible future retaliation by Moggallana, Kassapa moved his capital 75 kilometres south. Here, deep in Sri Lanka’s tropical plains stood a 180-metre-high monolith volcanic rock pillar with unhindered 360-degree views for miles on end.

Buddhist monks had been using the site since the 3rd Century BC. The boulders and natural caves strewn around the base of the monolith were an ideal location for the sangha.

Kassapa was quick to have the monks relocated to nearby Pidurangala. In its place, over seven years of gruelling labour, came up one of ancient world’s most magnificent architectural and engineering marvels: Moats, fortifications, elegant landscaped gardens irrigated by a complex rain-harvesting system, and a grand palace perched on the summit entered through a pair of gigantic stone lion paws topped with a lion’s head.

Sigiriya, the lion’s rock fortress, for Sri Lanka’s lion ruler.

Till his death in 495 AD, Kassapa’s rock fortress served as his haven, pleasure palace, and home all rolled into one. Along with 500 beautiful damsels from across the world, who he immortalised through a gigantic fresco, he was safe here from judgement, contempt, and attack.

But then in 495 AD, Moggallana came back, this time armed with a formidable Tamil army which he had put together whilst in hiding. Kassapa, faced with inevitable defeat, decided suicide was better than surrender. Mounted on his elephant in the battlefield, he took his sword, slit his own throat, put the sword carefully back in its sheath, and dropped dead.

Moggallana moved his capital back to Anuradhapura, and the monks who were asked to leave 18 years ago were brought back to Sigiriya. For the next nine hundred years, Sigiriya remained a Buddhist monastery.

Kassapa’s life story was fantastical, much like a far-fetched fable, yet so real it has survived to this day.

Just like the Sigiriya frescoes.

Often referred to as perhaps the biggest painting ever to have been painted, the Sigiriya frescoes spanned 140 metres high and 40 metres wide across the monolith’s western wall in its original form. Five hundred life-sized female figures, each different, clung to the undulating surface of the volcanic rock. The subsequent 1,500 years have taken their toll on this masterpiece. Only 18 of the figures remain today, and that too restored, following a brutal act of vandalism as recently as 1967.

There are various theories about these ladies and the reason they were painted. Whilst one school of thought believes they are all about Kassapa and sensual desire, another believes these ladies from Kassapa’s court are on their way to Pidurangala to make offerings of frangipani and water lilies to the monks who had been relocated there. Then there are those who believe they are Buddhist apsaras [celestial nymphs] and then others who think they are the Mahayana Buddhist goddess Tara herself.

Another theory, albeit on a different tangent all-together, claims Sigiriya’s rock fortress was the Palace of Ravana, chief antagonist in the Hindu epic Ramayana, and the fortress was built by Ravana’s half-brother Kubera, the Hindu god of wealth. The Sigiriya damsels, according to Hindu mythology are nymphs paying homage specifically to Kubera.

It is a bit difficult to zero in on the truth, when art goes so far back and there are no official records except for the graffiti written about them a few centuries later.

But art is still art and the Sigiriya damsels are some of the most stunning frescoes to have ever been painted. They have often been likened to those in the Ajanta Caves in India, but unlike the latter are deeply sensual and fluid, celebrating the human female form in all its ethnic variations, making them doubly unique. Apart from the scale and theme, they are also the only surviving secular ancient artworks in Sri Lanka.

Look carefully and various oddities peep through. Two nipples on a breast, a redrawn arm, and a sixth finger as the artists sketched, and at times re-sketched on the wet plaster before filling the outlines with vibrant mineral colours using powerful sweeping brush-strokes to create volume and shade. Guess they did not really think their redrawing would get caught out for errors one day.

This colourful stretch floating across a white lime plaster multiplied manifold through reflections in the highly polished Mirror Wall which wrapped around the western facade, and the water pools in the landscaped gardens far below. The mandate was clear. It was to recreate a vision of walking through ethereal beauty for whosoever made it till here, but especially for King Kassapa I.

Since the 8th Century, both travellers and pilgrims have scribbled around 685 poems on the Mirror Wall expressing their awe over the Sigiriya damsels.

Some of the thousand-year-old poems [the first is written by a man, and the following two by women] read as below. With these lines I also leave you in the company of more of the surviving Sigiriya damsels and details about them: told and untold.

“… side-long glances of the golden hued ladies stab into my thoughts
heaven itself cannot take my mind
as it has been captivated by one lass
among the five hundred I have seen here.”

“A deer-eyed maiden of the mountain side arouses anger in my mind.
In her hand she holds a string of pearls,
and in her eyes she assumes rivalry with me.”

As a woman, I especially liked this one.

“As a woman I’ll gladly
sing for these women
who are unable to speak.

You bulls come to Sigiriya
and toss off little lovesongs
making a big hullabaloo.

Not one has given us
a heart-warming sip
of rum and molasses.

Maybe none of you thought
we woman could have lives
of our own to get through.”

Kassapa I’s 500 damsels appear to have been of various ethnicities. The lady on the left in this fresco is believed to have been an Indian because of the ‘bindi’ on her forehead. If you scroll back on this post, you will even find an African damsel!

Left: Distorted arms and two nipples on the right breast reveal the artist’s redrawings; Right: Although mainly torso-up depictions, several of the Sigiriya damsels are painted floating above deep-pink clouds leading to the idea that they are ‘celestial nymphs.’

Victims of the 1967 vandalism. Though the frescoes were restored by Dr. Luciano Maranzi [from Italy], certain parts simply could not be salvaged.

And victims of exposure to 1,500 years of sun and rain. The combination of a fair damsel with a dark-skinned one are thought to represent nymphs associated with lightning [vijju-kumari] and clouds [megha-lata].

Painted in pairs, a common theme has the ladies bedecked in elaborate tiaras and ornate jewels encrusted with precious stones, whilst one of them wears a sheer blouse and holds a tray full of flowers.

If you have been to the Ajanta Caves in India, you may notice the similarity between the lady on the left [in the above fresco] and the famed Padmapani in Ajanta’s Cave 1.

A not-so-angelic damsel [left], looking a bit grumpy in-fact. 🙂

NOTE: Photography of the Sigiriya frescoes is strictly prohibited at the rock fortress. The images in this post were taken at the Sigiriya Museum which houses meticulously recreated copies by renowned Sinhalese artist Prof. Albert Dharmasiri.

Travel tips:

• If you get a chance, do speak to Gihan at the original frescoes for some fascinating insights. He is from the Department of Archaeology.
• Entry ticket: The ticket for the UNESCO-listed Sigiriya rock fortress includes its museum. To avail the 50 percent SAARC discount, it is mandatory to show your original passport.
• Staying there: I stayed at Ekho Sigiriya, right in the heart of Sigiriya village, for three nights. The hotel is surrounded with cafes and is a stone’s throw from the rock fortress’ exit gate.
• Getting around Sigiriya: I walked, climbed, clambered.
• Getting to Sigiriya: I used Sanara Travels’ car rentals. Highly recommended. Sanjeewa can be contacted on WhatsApp at +94 76 941 5579.

[Note: This blog post is part of a series from my solo independent travels to Sri Lanka. To read more posts in my Sri Lanka series, click here.]