Nepal-India Days 3 and 4: The sala tree

One activity that had never entered our reckoning when Nandaka Vihara was planning this pilgrimage to Nepal and India was the possibility of crossing paths once again with Sayadawgyi Bhaddanta Āciṇṇa, the revered head of the Pa-Auk forest monk tradition from Burma. When Saw See and I were first in Nepal last May, we had travelled to the Dhammadāyāda Meditation Centre in Phasku to meet him. By then, the 90-year-old Sayadawgyi was already frail and visibly unwell, largely confined to his bungalow and attended to day and night by a small circle of monks.

At the time, we could not help wondering why he had chosen to remain in such a remote monastery. The road to Phasku was punishingly difficult, and in any medical emergency, the only realistic option would have been evacuation by helicopter. A few months later, news reached us that he had been transferred to Singapore for dialysis treatment, and I assumed he would remain there for some time. It therefore came as a surprise when, sometime in October, we were told that the Sayadawgyi had returned to Nepal. Not to Phasku, but to Lumbini.

He was there to oversee an ambitious project to plant some 20,000 sāla trees. With a little luck, those of us from Nandaka Vihara who had met him months earlier might see him again. And see him, we did. On the third day of our stay in Nepal, while returning from Ramagram Stupa, we encountered him at the Lumbini Buddha Garden Resort, still frail and confined to his bed. His monk-aides surrounded him to ensure that he was not overly exposed to unwanted germs and viruses from visitors.

The following morning, we drove north of the Māyādevī Temple to a vast open clearing where the sāla forest was to take root. Thousands of saplings had already been planted, but the land stretched out so far that it seemed almost boundless. While waiting for the Sayadawgyi to arrive, we decided to plant some saplings ourselves. It was not often that we were given the chance to take part in something like this, and the occasion felt entirely fitting. 

After an hour or two, the Sayadawgyi arrived with his entourage of monks and lay devotees, and the planting resumed in earnest. As we worked, it became clear why the sāla tree had been chosen. In the Buddhist tradition, it occupies a quietly significant place. It is said that Queen Māyā, travelling through the Lumbini Grove, reached up to grasp the branch of a blossoming sāla tree as Siddhartha was born. Later, during the final phase of his life as a wandering ascetic, Siddhartha spent his last night before enlightenment resting in a grove of sāla trees. And at the end of the Buddha's earthly journey in Kushinagar, he asked that a couch be prepared between twin sāla trees. Though it was not their flowering season, the trees were said to have burst into bloom as he entered Mahāparinibbāna, their falling petals offering a final, wordless teaching on impermanence.

Standing there in Lumbini, planting young sāla saplings into the earth, it felt as though we were participating in a continuity that stretched far beyond us. A small gesture but still quite meaningful to us. Trees grow, flower and eventually fade away; beginnings trailing into endings, both sharing the same page. The Sayadawgyi’s presence, the quiet labour of monks, lay devotees and workers, and the open land waiting to be transformed all seemed to echo that truth. With our objectives realised and Lumbini behind us, we prepared to leave Nepal. We would cross into India the next morning.

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Nepal-India Days 3 and 4: Lumbini and Kapilvastu 
Nepal-India Days 1 and 2: Kathmandu and Nagarkot