Nepal 2025, Day Five

By now, I had come to expect that a stupa doesn’t always have to be made of concrete or brick, just as a Sīma hall doesn’t necessarily need to be an enclosed building...it can simply be a designated open space beneath the sky. During our Lumbini trip, we saw several examples of these stupas that looked more like grassy mounds, unshaped and unassuming, yet sacred. The stupa at Ramagrama was one such place.

When we arrived at the grounds in Ramagrama, the first thing we noticed was its sheer simplicity. Just a massive grassy mound rising from the earth, measuring 10 metres high and 23.5 metres in diameter, with a great old tree growing beside it, its roots winding around the base. There were no ornate structures, no grand gates or golden spires. Only a wooden boardwalk that circled the stupa, inviting pilgrims to walk in mindfulness.

We were drawn to a shaded spot beneath the tree and settled there for a short session of meditation and contemplation. The sun was unforgiving and the wooden walkway, baking under the heat, proved too much for bare feet. I chose instead to walk barefoot on the soft grass beside the path and had wisely forewarned my friends from the Nandaka Vihara to do the same. Bhante Dhammasubho, our Chief Abbot, along with the rest of our group, noted my advice as we circumambulated the stupa three times, knowing that this wasn’t just any stupa.

Ramagrama holds a special place in Buddhist history. After the Buddha’s Mahāparinibbāna, his cremated remains were divided among eight kingdoms. The Koliyas of Ramagrama received one portion, and they enshrined the relics in this stupa here. What makes this site so unique is that, unlike the other seven original stupas, which were later opened by Emperor Asoka for relic redistribution across his vast empire, Ramagrama’s stupa was left untouched. Legend has it that when Asoka arrived, intent on opening the mound, he was stopped by a Nāga, a serpent guardian of the relics. And so, this is believed to be the only original stupa that still contains the Buddha’s mortal remains, unbroken and undisturbed.

The site itself was rediscovered in 1899. Excavations carried out over the years, particularly by the Nepal Department of Archaeology, revealed layers of construction dating back to the Mauryan, Sunga, Kushana and Gupta periods. Pottery shards, ancient greyware and monastic remains give us glimpses of a long history of continuous devotion.

Interestingly, both Faxian and Xuanzang, the Chinese pilgrims who journeyed through this region centuries ago, recorded Ramagrama in their travelogues. Xuanzang in particular noted the Nāga legend and described seeing a stupa, a pillar and a temple, all of which were once located on an island formed by the meandering Jharahi River.

Although Ramagrama has been on UNESCO’s tentative list of World Heritage Sites since 1996, nothing much has been done to advance its eventual listing. Hopefully, more can be done to enhance Ramagrama's visibility. This is not just as an archaeological site, but a place of deep spiritual heritage. Ramagrama reminds us that sacredness doesn’t always need a grand structure or elaborate ceremony. Sometimes, a simple mound of earth that's been left untouched for over two millennia can speak louder than any artificial monument.

The visit to Ramagrama ended our stay in Lumbini. In the afternoon, we flew back to Kathmandu and along the way, as the flight approached Tribhuvan International Airport, we spotted just above the vast blanket of clouds the unmistakable tip of Mount Everest. Observing Everest from this distance had a humbling effect. There it was, piercing the clouds in silent majesty, reminding us how small we are in the grand scale of nature. To see the world’s highest peak was to be reminded that there are still things far greater than ourselves. It felt like a fitting end to a journey of spiritual reflection.