The Buddha, born as Prince Siddhartha, attained Enlightenment and Parinibbana all on a Vesak full-moon day, would have never anticipated that millions of followers of his doctrine would be celebrating this day, all over the world with festivities, over 2500 years later. Perhaps, what is happening in his name is not what he expected, indulging in festivities than following the path he showed for ultimate detachment. Perhaps, as an inevitable consequence of Buddha Dhamma’s transformation, by his followers, to a religion was the emergence of Buddhist art, culture, literature etc. Though this has, no doubt, enriched the lives of many, including non-Buddhists, with the displays of creativity at the highest level in these festivities, we should not forget the core message of the Buddha.

In the search for the reasons for the ever-pervading sense of dissatisfaction and the way to overcome it, the Buddha became the unsurpassed analyst of the human mind and thoughts, his concepts being validate by science, two and a half millennia later! Though Hans Berger, the inventor of the Electro Encephalogram (EEG), which records the electrical activity of the brain, is credited with the proposition that the brain is always busy, the Buddha not only stated that the mind is constantly bombarding us but also showed us how to control the mind. He also showed that the world around us was a creation of our mind and had included the mind also as a sense, on top of the five senses acknowledged by scientists. His concept that the mind is the sixth, the modifier sense is validated now, as it is shown that what see is what we want to see and what we hear is what we want to hear etc.

One of the biggest problems we have is endless thinking. As we wake up in the morning, we think of what happened yesterday or about the dreams we had the previous night. One can even go to the extent of saying that our thoughts are bombarding us even in sleep in the form of dreams. Though some of these thoughts are productive, in the main we torture ourselves thinking how we could have done better, even though it is an exercise in futility as what happened in the past cannot be undone. Our mind gets attached to some events in the past and have endless thoughts about these events which is of no use other than leading to a sense of depression. We then think of what we have to do tomorrow and anxiety creeps in. In this process we forget what is most important; the present! Scientists explain all this based on the Default mode network (DMN) in our brains, a set of connected parts of the brain which acts as a network which is responsible for remembering the past and imagining the future as well as thinking of others. Some scientists opine that it is the neurological basis for the ‘self.’

The Buddha pointed out that whatever misdeed happened in the past is like the pain one gets when hit with an arrow fired by someone else and that thinking again and again about it is like taking a second arrow and stabbing yourself with it. Though the pain inflicted by the first arow is natural, the second is our own making which prolongs the agony by torturing ourselves. What is needed is the avoidance of overthinking and being aware of the thoughts. Emptying the mind of the bombarding unnecessary thoughts increases awareness. Instead of being the driver of the car, we should attempt to be the passenger who is at liberty to enjoy the view and this could be achieved by mindfulness, a concept introduced by the Buddha. There is ever increasing scientific evidence, using dynamic MRI studies and PET scan studies, that mindfulness meditation reduces the activity of the DMN in our brains.

Mindfulness meditation is a way of slowing down thinking, concentrating on the present whilst getting rid of unnecessary baggage of thoughts of the past and the future. Emptying the mind of thoughts that act as a noise imparts a sense of clarity. It is not an easy task as we are attempting to go against what the brain is programmed to do via the DMN which functions to preserve the self. Unfortunately, mindfulness has become big business and the Buddha is not even credited for introducing the concept!

Thinking is an essential process in human development as well as human destruction, as exemplified by many wars raging around us at this moment. Right thinking is one of essentials in the Noble Eightfold Path, the Buddha laid for us for the purpose of achieving ultimate detachment. In addition to thinking correctly, we should get rid of harmful thoughts which leads to renouncing attachment, kindness and letting go of harmful intentions. On the basis of this a new modality of treatment has emerged for mental illnesses; cognitive behaviour therapy (CBT) which teaches patients that some thoughts are false and also to recognise which thoughts are useful and which are harmful, one of the most effective being mindfulness-based CBT.

It is important to know when to think and when not to and as the Buddha stated, “Think when it is useful but do not be a slave to thoughts, which is the basis of wisdom.”

Buddha also showed that by progressively suppressing thoughts one could reach a stage where awareness exists without thoughts and could go further where there is no awareness either, resulting in ultimate detachment. Once you reach this stage, thoughts are used only as and when necessary, without any attachment at all. Thus, the Buddha showed that all is in the mind including the way to control.

The inspiration to pen these Vesak thoughts came by watching an excellent video forwarded by Ven Teldeniyaye Amitha Thera of Nottingham Shanti Vihara, in the course of fortnightly Vipassana meditation sessions conducted via Zoom. My respectful thanks go to Ven Amitha Thera and I highly recommend “What Happens When You Stop Thinking? Buddhism’s answer” which is available on YouTube. The link is: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfTiA2_FtEw)

Happy Vesak!

By Dr Upul Wijayawardhana

After a Dhamma session I attended, a participant inquired about the meaning of taking refuge in the Three Jewels (Triratna). A longtime meditation practitioner volunteered that it is a powerful mantra that helps to awaken the mind and go to the higher self. I have no idea what he meant by that, but a flood of emotions rushed my mind. Empathy for the believer, for one; but it occurred to me that I have not given much thought about it either, at least for quite a while.

The fact of the matter is that taking refuge in the ‘Three Jewels’ is our tradition. A tradition is just that, the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation, with no questions asked. The term refuge is defined as a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger, or trouble. What is the danger we are seeking shelter from? As a child, I had my own explanations: according to Buddhacharithaya we were taught, Buddha was omniscience and omnipotent, and there was no doubt that such powers could protect you from any danger.

A similar mystic power was attributed to Dhamma as well; leaving the radio on in full volume when the protective suttas were broadcast was assured to bring safety and health. Sangha, on the other hand, were there to bless us in good and tough times: moving into a new house, starting a new job, recuperating from an illness, or even after death to secure a better afterlife by transferring merits.

Such musing aside, I wonder if this tradition has been satisfactorily explained to us, not just as children but as adults as well. Especially, how Dhamma could be a refuge or what is expected when we recite Dhammam Saranam ever so often? It occurred to me that there is a gap in our education. An investigation of the literature reveals that I am not alone, scholars too have identified this shortcoming: our Buddhist education has failed.

I received good grades in Dhamma studies, and I memorised the entire book we used for our ordinary level exam; even then, how is my knowledge of Dhamma incomplete? As not many undertake Dhamma studies after leaving school, how and when such a gap in education could be filled? Well, it has been a problem with historical origins, and the collapse of socio-religious institutions of the country bear witness to this fact, the scholars reason. If we agree with the scholars’ notion that our Dhamma education is inadequate, it behooves us to explore what part of it was left out of our education.

Right after the Parinibbana, the Sangha recognised the need for preserving Dhamma, and they produced the system of memorisation and interpretation of it for the benefit of the followers. This is the system that Arahant Mahinda brought to Sri Lanka. When many members of the Sangha were decimated during Great Famine in the first century BCE, the question arose whether learning and preservation of Dhamma was more important than practice.

The advocates of learning and preservation prevailed. By the beginning of seventeenth century, the practice had completely disappeared, and Buddhism was reduced to a set of rituals acquired from other traditions in the hands of Ganinnanses. When venerable Welivita Saranankara thero (1698-1778) started the Buddhist revival, he had to learn Pali and reinterpret the Dhamma.

This process of reinterpretation continues to date. Venerable Sangha tries to do this for the benefit of laity, in person and using all other available media. Scholars analyse it and write volumes for the sake of knowledge, and devotees follow various meditation recipes hoping it will dawn on them and lead to spiritual salvation. Whatever path followed, there are several pitfalls that must be avoided for a successful outcome.

These are the drawbacks that our Buddhist education has failed to avoid: First, the goal of education must be identified, and Dhamma relevant for the goals of the followers must be taught. Second, the origin and purpose of Pali and Sinhala commentaries must be understood, and their relevance must be verified. Third, the bondage to tradition must be relaxed, otherwise, we get trapped in a vicious cycle. Lastly, Dhamma must be taught in terms that are accessible to modern society.

Returning to the main question, let us focus on Dhamma first: the Pali word Dhamma has many meanings, but here it refers to what the Buddha taught, which is represented by Tipitaka, the Theravadin’s Pali Canon. Then the question arises whether it is necessary to absorb the entire contents of the twelve-thousand-page Canon to grasp the meaning of Dhamma? Scholars are of the opinion that it is not necessary; they point out that the essence of Dhamma is captured in the first two sermons of the Buddha given at the Deer Park in Isipatana to the five ascetics.

Yes, everything one needs to know about Dhamma is captured in these two suttas (Nanamoli 1995). The remaining ten thousand plus Suttas are on various explanations of his teaching by Buddha to suit different audiences and occasions. They do not deviate from the contents of the first two, and that consistency is further proof of this summation. Some scholars go even further, they say that the simple verse uttered by Assaji in response to Upatissa’s question encapsulates the essence of the Dhamma:

Of those things that arise from a cause,

The Tathagata has told the cause,

And also, what their cessation is:

This is the doctrine of the Great Recluse.

Everything in twelve thousand pages of text condensed into a single verse! In modern parlance, this verse means “When A is, B is; A arising, B arises; When A is not, B is not; A ceasing, B ceases.” It can be further simplified to ‘Everything comes to existence because of causes and conditions. If we had to stop something from coming into existence, its causes and conditions must be eliminated.’ According to science, this is the law of cause and effect that applies to all phenomena in this universe. Upatissa was said to have become sotapanna, the first stage to liberation upon hearing this verse. Dhamma is also referred to as Hethu Pala Dahama for this reason.

In fact, this simple verse, known as the Paticcasamuppada Gatha, can be considered as the first principle from which the Dhamma in its entirety can be derived. If it governs everything, it must apply to the cycle of samsara as well, ending of which is the supreme goal. Upatissa was said to have sufficient training to unravel the complex message contained in this simple verse and see the Dhamma. Can we get a glimpse of this rationalising process?

If something comes to existence due to causes and effects, it must have a beginning, a progression, and an end. In science, it is called a process, an activity, but not a static object. Just like running, eating, or growing. It does not make sense, you may say; how can this paper on which this essay is printed, held in my hands, which I can feel, smell, and taste if I wish, not be a thing? That is the conventional way of thinking. The other way to look at it is to see its history.

The newsprint was produced from pulp that came from a pine, spruce, or a fir tree growing in the northern hemisphere. The trees grew from seeds, which came from pollen and so on. Every transformation involved in that process required some conditions: chemicals, heat, and water to make paper, and soil, rain, and cold climate for the pine trees to grow. Contemplating the causes and conditions of any phenomenon is not only a fun exercise for a science student, but also a way to meditate on impermanence by anyone interested. However, the way we relate to time gets in the way.

We humans have evolved accustomed to the day-night cycle. Compared to that twenty-four-hour cycle, some processes appear fast while some others appear unimaginably slow. As Einstein pointed out, time is a relative concept. A rock may appear to be a thing, but it is also a process: it is hardened magma that will eventually erode, wash into the ocean, move with tectonic plates, and end up as magma once more. In human time scale, that process is unfathomable, but in cosmic time scale it is a mere split second.

If the earth were twenty-four hours old, humans would have existed only for three seconds, for example. On the other extreme, some insects live only a few hours. For them, in their timescale, humans may appear to be eternal. It may be hard to wrap our heads around, but if we can leave time factor aside, everything becomes a process, which means they are in a state of constant change. This is even more so at atomic level. The scientific term for this state of continuous change is flux. That is what Dhamma teaches us, but were we told that in the class? Yes, in Pali it is called Anicca. Any phenomenon that arises this way is referred to as Sankhara, meaning put together or compounded (Dhammapada verse 277).

All natural phenomena like birth, aging, sickness, and death are such processes. While they are inevitable aspects of life, Dhamma pays more attention to mental processes, which also have the same properties. They too are in flux and devoid of substance. Another characteristic of processes is that as they depend on conditions and causes, they are not under the control of an agent, neither human nor superhuman. Justifiably, free will or conation becomes debatable under such conditions.

That means processes lack substance, purpose, or agency; they keep running based on the causes and conditions. There is no doer. This is defined as no self, which Pali describes as Anatta. According to Dhamma, the notion of a permanent self is merely a convention. However, there is a crucial distinction about mental processes; the human mind can be developed to have some control over mental processes, a key element of Dhamma.

by Geewananda Gunawardana, Ph.D.

(To be concluded)

In the vibrant tapestry of Sri Lanka’s biodiversity, where rainforests pulse with life and endemic creatures lurk under every leaf, Dr. Nimal D. Rathnayake has carved a unique niche — one that combines the precision of a scientist with the strategic insight of a marketer.

A leading voice in herpetology and a respected academic in the fields of tourism and management, Dr. Rathnayake is a multidisciplinary force, passionately working to conserve reptiles — especially the often-overlooked geckos — while also reimagining how humans interact with nature.

A Childhood Rooted in Discovery

Dr. Rathnayake’s journey into the world of reptiles began in his youth. Growing up with an innate curiosity about the natural world, he joined the Youth Exploration Society of Sri Lanka (YES), a group dedicated to inspiring young people to explore and understand the environment. His early exposure to fieldwork through YES and later, the Amphibia and Reptile Research Organization of Sri Lanka (ARROS), laid the foundation for a lifelong engagement with herpetology.

ARROS, a grassroots organisation with a strong emphasis on field-based research and conservation, gave Dr. Rathnayake the platform to pursue his fascination with amphibians and reptiles more seriously. It was here that he honed his skills in species identification, ecological monitoring, and data collection — skills that would become essential to his later academic pursuits.

Nimal D. Rathnayake

The Silent Stars: Geckos of Sri Lanka

While Sri Lanka is renowned for its charismatic wildlife — elephants, leopards, and blue whales — Dr. Rathnayake has dedicated much of his scientific career to one of the island’s most understated yet ecologically important creatures: geckos.

Sri Lanka is home to more than 50 species of geckos, many of them endemic and highly localised. These small, nocturnal reptiles play crucial roles in the ecosystem as insect predators and as prey for larger animals. Despite their importance, geckos are often ignored in mainstream conservation efforts.

Dr. Rathnayake’s research on geckos has helped shift that narrative. Through detailed ecological studies, he has contributed to understanding their behaviour, habitat preferences, and conservation status. His fieldwork has included both rainforest-dwelling species such as the Cnemaspis geckos — which cling to the moist boulders of the wet zone — and dry-zone species like the agile Hemidactylus that thrive in arid, rocky landscapes.

Much of his work has highlighted the vulnerability of geckos to habitat fragmentation and deforestation. Many species have extremely limited ranges, making them especially sensitive to environmental change. Dr. Rathnayake advocates for the inclusion of microhabitats — such as rocky outcrops and forest understory — in conservation plans, which are often overlooked in broader biodiversity strategies.

A Scholar of many languages: Science, Marketing, and Management

Dr. Rathnayake’s academic career is as diverse as the ecosystems he studies. With over 25 published papers and several books, he has explored topics that span from ecological fieldwork to the intricacies of tourism marketing and destination management. His dual expertise in science and business places him in a unique position to craft interdisciplinary solutions to environmental problems.

One of his key areas of focus is ecotourism — a sector with tremendous potential in biodiversity-rich Sri Lanka. Drawing from his research in marketing and management, Dr. Rathnayake emphasises the importance of balancing tourism growth with environmental responsibility. He is a vocal advocate for wildlife-based tourism models that prioritise education, ethical practices, and community involvement.

His work often draws on field data from herpetological studies — such as gecko population dynamics or habitat assessments — to inform tourism planning. For instance, understanding the specific conditions required by a rare Cnemaspis species can help guide decisions about where to place hiking trails or visitor lodges, minimising disruption to fragile habitats.

Image of the large gecko om Tharulenagala Rock Cave

Building Bridges Between Academia and Conservation

One of Dr. Rathnayake’s most valuable contributions lies in his ability to bridge academic research with practical, on-the-ground impact. His collaborations with local communities, conservation NGOs, and tourism authorities have helped translate science into policy and practice.

He has also been a dedicated mentor to young scientists, guiding students and early-career researchers through fieldwork, data analysis, and publication. His roots in YES and ARROS continue to inform this commitment to youth engagement. For Dr. Rathnayake, fostering a love for science in young people is not just a passion — it’s a strategy for ensuring long-term conservation.

His outreach also extends beyond academia. He frequently speaks at public forums, contributes to media features, and participates in educational programmes aimed at demystifying reptiles. In a culture where snakes and lizards are often feared or misunderstood, his efforts to raise awareness are a crucial part of building public support for conservation.

Sri Lanka’s biodiversity faces increasing pressure from urbanisation, agriculture, climate change, and illegal wildlife trade. Dr. Rathnayake warns that without strategic, science-informed planning, many of the country’s lesser-known species — including endemic geckos — could disappear before the public even knows they exist.

He emphasises that conservation can no longer exist in isolation. “We must think across disciplines — biology, economics, policy, education — if we are to create sustainable models for both nature and people,” he often says.

His vision includes scaling up community-based ecotourism, promoting habitat restoration projects that include gecko microhabitats, and advocating for stronger legal protections for reptiles. Through his research and advocacy, Dr. Rathnayake is working to ensure that conservation in Sri Lanka evolves with the times — grounded in rigorous science, yet responsive to social and economic realities.

In the world of conservation science, specialisation is often the norm. Yet, Dr. Rathnayake has forged a different path — one that values integration over isolation, and collaboration over competition. From the quiet movements of a forest gecko to the complex dynamics of an eco-tourism, he navigates it all with depth and clarity.

As he continues his work, Dr. Rathnayake remains a strong voice in both national and international discussions on biodiversity. His story is a reminder that impactful science isn’t confined to labs or lecture halls. Sometimes, it begins with a child watching a lizard on a tree trunk — and grows into a lifetime of discovery, mentorship, and conservation.

By Ifham Nizam