AIMEE SEMPLE McPHERSON - THE FLAMBOYANT EVANGELIST.

The Angelus Temple in Los Angeles just off the Echo Park Lane, looks like an Opera House or a Theatre, except that a cross sits atop its dome. It is the International Church of Four Square Gospel, and is believed to have 2 million members. The church welcomes sinners and saints, tattooed, pierced or dishevelled, embracing everybody with unconditional love.

The Temple was designed and built under the direction of Aimee Semple McPherson, a woman who caused a veritable tsunami in the placid waters of Christian conservatism of the early 20th century.

Aimee was born on 9th October 1890 in Ontario, to a missionary couple Robert James Semple and Beth Kennedy. When they moved to China on missionary work, her father succumbed to Typhoid. So Aimee and her mother returned to New York, where the latter found employment with the Salvation Army.

In 1912, Aimee married a salesman called Harold Steward McPherson. This beautiful, intelligent but headstrong woman became an evangelist in 1916, and moved to Los Angeles. Her methods of evangelism were totally different from the conventional preachers of her time, who pronounced ‘hell fire and damnation’ on all unbelievers.

Aimee turned religion into a fun thing that promised acceptance of all who were ‘weary and heavy laden.’ Though many did not agree with her theology, they surely admired her grit. She travelled cross country for revival meetings and even went abroad to Canada and Australia. Her automobile had the words “Full Gospel Car’’ on its sides and was fitted with a radio. However, her husband Harold was not impressed. He opposed her ministry and her frequent travels away from home. He divorced her in 1921, unable to deal with the stress of an absentee wife.

At the Angelus Temple which was considered the most beautiful sanctuary in the West, Aimee livened her services with a full orchestra and band. Apart from her preaching, Christian musicals, operas and drama were staged here. When the Temple was dedicated on January 1st, 1923, it had a seating capacity of 5000. Later, she opened a Bible School nearby and called it Light House of International Foursquare Evangelism.

As her popularity increased, so did criticism about her unconventional ways. She wore expensive stylish costumes, used tasteful makeup and was too beautiful for a preacher. People came to gaze at her beauty more than to listen to her sermons. Even her choristers and usherettes were dressed elegantly. Christian women were aghast at her shameless display of worldly adornment.

“You don’t have to look spiritual to be spiritual,” she countered, “Women, you don’t have to look ugly and plain to prove how spiritual you are.”

Her faith healing activities, speaking in tongues, singing and radio broadcasts brought crowds to her church. But inherent flaws in her character surfaced from time to time. She was used to having her own way in everything. People found her difficult to work with.

In 1926, Aimee went for a swim in the ocean and disappeared. Everybody thought she was dead. But a few weeks later, she surfaced in Mexico, claiming that she had been kidnapped for half a million dollars. During this period of her absence, a radio operator called Kenneth Ormiston who worked at the Temple, also disappeared. It didn’t take people long to realise that they must have shacked up together is some romantic hideaway. However, the Grand Jury investigation and charges of perjury against her were suddenly dropped. This incident brought about a permanent rift with her mother.

Aimee married again in 1931 to David Hutton, ten years her junior. The marriage was short lived. They divorced in 1933.

The Temple was caught up in legal disputes and financial problems for a few years. Aimee continued to preach and teach. By 1940, the difficult period was over.

Aimee died on September 27th, 1944, due to an overdose of sleeping tablets. Some thought it was suicide.

One wonders if this flamboyant evangelist was a hypocrite or a victim of the Media, which was not kindly disposed towards women in power. If she was a fake, how does one account for the popularity of the Temple even today, and its claim of two million members?

LADY OTTOLINE MORRELL – UNCONVENTIONAL VICTORIAN DEBUTANTE

Bloomsbury in central London has always been associated with authors, writers and thinkers.
44, Bedford Square which today houses the Office of the Turkish Republic of North Cyprus, was once the beautiful home of Lady Ottoline Morrell and her husband Philip. It was the meeting place of the Bloomsbury group of English writers, philosophers and artists. Aldous Huxley, D.H. Lawrence, T.S. Eliot and many more, enjoyed her patronage and hospitality long before they rose to fame. She stimulated their creativity and even gave them financial help. In her coterie were painters like Augustus John the gypsy with a long mane and beard, and gold rings in his ears, as well as philosophers like Bertrand Russell who was thought to be her lover.

Ottoline was born in 1873, to General Arthur Cavendish-Bentinck and Lady Bolsover. She was the cousin of the Queen Mother, and acquired the title of ‘Lady’ because her half brother William succeeded to the Dukedom of Portland in 1879, and moved into the prestigious Welbeck Abbey in Nottinghamshire, where she grew up.

Ottoline was well educated, first at St. Andrews and then in Oxford. She loved Literature and Art, and was considered religious in spite of her unconventional life style. Not for her the galling restrictions of Victorian life. Her persona was a strange combination of aristocratic manners, deep religious faith, extreme shyness and eccentric sartorial preferences. She was a romantic at heart, and her first affair was with Axel Munthe, old enough to be her father. She turned down his proposal of marriage because he was an atheist.

Though she was a clever decorator and landscape designer, her pioneering work was never given the recognition it was due. Even the two volumes of memoirs which she wrote were published only after her death, and were watered down by fussy editing. Instead, she gained a questionable reputation through her proximity to the Bloomsbury group.

In 1906, her passion for Art and Liberal politics brought her in contact with the M.P. Philip Morrell, whom she married. Theirs was an ‘open marriage’ – a scandalous social aberration in the Victorian era. Each had their share of extramarital affairs. She was generous enough to support some of his illegitimate children. Ottoline bore Philip twins of which the boy died in infancy, but the girl Julia grew to adulthood.

The Bloomsbury group included several struggling intellectual eccentrics. Unlike the Victorian world with its strict social conduct, sexual restraints and low tolerance of crime, their attitudes to feminism, personal relationships, individual pleasure and liberal politics resembled the hedonism of the Hippies of later years. They threw convention to the winds and spurned what they called ‘bourgeois habits.’ G. E .Moore one of the writers said, “One’s prime objects in life are love, the creation and enjoyment of aesthetic experience and pursuit of knowledge.”

Ottoline though not of their inner circle, fell in with their views. She felt completely at home in their company, unfettered and free to indulge her sensual desires. Henry James said of her, “She is like a gorgeous heraldic creature – a Gryphon perhaps or a Dragon Volant.”
Among her list of lovers were Bertrand Russell, Augustus John, Henry Lamb, the Art historian Roger Fry and even a young mason who came to work on her Oxfordshire estate.

But the tragic part of her life was that most of these authors and poets took advantage of her friendship and generosity, and lampooned her in their novels. D.H. Lawrence based “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” on her, and Aldous Huxley portrayed her as a ridiculous character in his novel “Yellow Chrome.” She never forgave them for doing this.

Ottoline and her husband acquired a country house in Garsington near Oxford. The house was in total disrepair, but was renovated with a landscaped Italian-style garden and an ornamental swimming pool. During World War I it became a haven for pacifists and conscientious objectors like Duncan Grant and Lytton Strachey, who hid here to avoid prosecution. Siegfried Sassoon, who was recuperating from an injury, went AWL (Absence without leave) as a protest against the war.

Ottoline was wrongly accused as being a ‘lion huntress’ – a person who asked famous people to her house because they were well known. This was the unkindest cut of all, as many of her guests were unknown at that point of time, and most of them were impoverished. Those who scrounged on her generosity thought the Morrells were very wealthy. But in 1927, the Manor House had to be sold, and they moved into a modest cottage in Gower Street, London. In 1928, the poor lady was diagnosed with cancer, and her lower jaw and teeth had to be removed.

The Bloomsbury set which had regrouped after the war, continued to enjoy her hospitality. Her life and personality inspired many writers. She struts through the pages of Graham Greene’s novel “In a Battlefield,” as Lady Caroline Bury, or as Hermione Roddick in Lawrence’s “Woman in Love,” or as Mrs. Bidlake in Huxley’s “Point Counterpoint.”

Ottoline died in 1938. Henry Green the novelist eulogized her in a letter to her husband, recalling ‘her love for all things true and beautiful which she had more than anyone. No one can know the immeasurable good she did.’

EVA LOMBARD – PIONEER MEDICAL MISSIONARY.

On the west coast of India and hugging the Arabian Sea, is the temple town of Udupi famous for the Krishna Temple and the eight mutts – a seminary for Brahmin boys.

Into this stronghold of Brahmin orthodoxy, stepped Eva Lombard a young Swiss doctor, diminutive in stature but with a strong spirit and an incredible capacity for work.

Maternal and Infant mortality was very high in these parts as doctors were few, and female doctors were unheard of. Though opposition to missionaries was strong, the town welcomed the missionary doctor. On 15th June 1923, Eva Lombard opened the Basel Mission Hospital in Udupi. It was just a 6-bedded cottage hospital that promised to minister to the needs of women from all sections of society. Most of the work was domiciliary. The brave young doctor travelled to the homes of patients on foot or by bullock cart or boat. A car came many years later. Deliveries were conducted in outhouses or cattle sheds as women were considered unclean for forty days after child birth.

Everyone who mattered turned up for the inauguration. Important men with gilt-edged turbans or colourful headgear drove up in jutkas. They appreciated the fact that at last, medical help would be available to the women and children of the area.

Eva Lombard

Eva Lombard was born in Geneva in1890. Her father a Bank Manager gave up his job to become an evangelist. Her mother worked among women prisoners. From the age of fourteen, Eva was sure that she wanted to pursue a career in Medicine. She graduated from the University of Geneva in 1918, and worked for a couple of years in Basel and Geneva. But her burden was for India, and though she had no inking of her actual place of work, she set out like Abraham ‘not knowing wither.’

In 1921, Eva travelled to Mysore, and spent a year at the Mission Hospital there, getting acquainted with various tropical diseases and learning the local customs and language.

1923 brought her to Udupi. Under her care and guidance, the hospital grew over the years into a multi-specialty hospital with 200 beds, and a nursing school. But this was a Herculean task as money was always in short supply, and most of the patients were too poor to pay or could only pay a pittance. Though the town representatives had promised to contribute towards running costs, they were merely empty promises. The hospital had to rely on subsidies from the Basel Mission in Switzerland.

After World War II and when India became independent, things became tougher. Sometimes there was no money to buy medicines or pay the local staff. It made the good doctor more dependent on God.

TB patients were a sadly neglected lot. So in 1952 a sanatorium was built where patients were cared for with much love and dedication. Outreach work was started simultaneously with the opening of the hospital.

This remarkable woman devoted the best years of her life to service of the poor. They were her friends. Women and children were her special concern, but prayer was her forte. She worked hard and expected the same from her colleagues.

Eva Lombard retired in 1954 and handed over charge to an Indian doctor. She returned to Switzerland in 1957. She lived frugally and in her last years, moved into a Home for the Aged where she lived till her death in 1978. Dr. T. M .A. Pai the founder of Manipal Hospital, who was her good friend, said of her, “There is a spark of divinity in her. Let us have many such people. It does not matter which country they come from. They are angels holding the torch of hope and happiness. Dr. Lombard’s contribution to the healing art has been signal.”

In her was the will to render service. This is what steered her into a life of love, compassion and dedication.

VICTORIA OCAMPO – A POET’S INSPIRATION.

Buenos Aires the bustling capital of Argentina, spread over the south bank of the Rio de la Plata, is a city of contrasts – of rich superhighways and narrow crooked streets, of plush apartments and suburban shanty towns, of wealth and poverty, of the famous and infamous.

Rapid suburban growth has changed the face of the city. Many historic structures have crumbled with age or demolished. Searching the suburbs of San Isidro to find Villa Milario is quite an adventure. It was the trysting place of Argentina’s distinguished writer Victoria Ocampo and the ageing Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore. For two months (November and December) in 1924 an old man of 63 years and a young lady of 34 mutually fuelled their creativity in each other’s company.

After Tagore won the Nobel Prize for Literature, Victoria took a great interest in his works. Her knowledge of English, Spanish and French gave her access to the best of literary works. She read Tagore’s “Gitanjali” and felt she could relate to the mystical yearnings and deep emotions expressed in his poems, and even said that she derived spiritual comfort from them.

Victoria was born into a rich family belonging to the high society of Buenos Aires. She was brought up in a very conservative atmosphere where women were not allowed to have a formal education. She was tutored by a French governess. But as a young girl, she travelled to Rome with her family and was allowed to attend lectures at the Sorbonne and the College de France, in the company of a chaperone. It made her eager to get better acquainted with the literary world.

By now, Tagore was a famous poet. He was invited to speak in different countries. On his travels to Latin America he fell severely ill on board the ship and had to disembark at Buenos Aires. He checked into the Hotel Plaza with his secretary and traveling companion Leonard Elmhurst. But because of Victoria’s great admiration for the poet, she offered to host them at Villa Milario in San Isidro, very close to her residence Villa Ocampo. It was situated in the middle of a beautiful compound with a cactus garden in the backyard, and a shady Tipa tree in the forecourt, under which Tagore met his visitors. From his balcony he had a view of the river. Victoria sold some of her jewellery to pay the rent for Villa Milario. Her personal servants attended Tagore’s every need.
Victoria herself spent the best part of the day with him. They even had their meals together. Leonard acted as the facilitator of their friendship as Victoria was rather shy. It was a rare friendship that stimulated the creative juices in both of them. Tagore cut short his visits to Peru and Mexico to bask in the ministrations of this lovely, intelligent muse.

Tagore had been a widower since the age of 41. However he had any number of women friends in Europe for his inspiration. But for the last seventeen years of his life Victoria became his muse. He considered her the most distinguished and attractive among all his female friends.

They parted in January 1925 when Tagore returned to Europe. Their epistolary romance was to continue until his death, except for two silent years from 1926 – 1928, when Victoria battled with her own private demons.

Their correspondence which was in English, revealed her devotion to him and his feelings for her. The letters were poignant with longing for emotional fulfilment. He taught her one word in Bengali ‘balobashi’ meaning love. Tagore immortalized her through his poems, never once mentioning her by name but by the Indian name ‘Vijaya’ which means victory. His book of poems ‘Purabi’ was dedicated to her. Yet though he idolized her, he refused to recognize her as an intellectual equal. This was truly frustrating for her.

They met for the last time in Paris in 1930, where she organized his first Art exhibition. He hoped that she would follow him to Shanthiniketan in India. But Victoria could not leave her lover Julian Martinez a diplomat, with whom she had a long standing relationship. Tagore had to be content with the arm chair she had presented him, which he had used in Milario. It had travelled with him through Europe and finally to Shanthiniketan. Many were the poems he was inspired to write from that arm chair.

On Tagore’s death in 1941, Victoria wrote his Obit essay.
“I guard everything I learnt from him,” she wrote, “So that I might live with it as long as my strength permits me.”

Victoria moved on from strength to strength. She was admired by musicians, writers and essayists. Many of them had visited her in San Isidro.
She aired her opinions fearlessly through her writing and essays. During World War II she supported and edited an anti-Nazi magazine ‘Lettres Francaises.’
In 1946, she was the only Argentinean to attend the Nuremberg trials.
In 1953, she was imprisoned for opposing the regime of Juan Domino Peron.
In 1961, on the birth centenary of Tagore, she organized a grand celebration in Buenos Aires. Her book “Tagore in the ravines of San Isidro” was well received.

Though Victoria lacked formal education, she established herself in the world of literature. She became a member of the Argentine Academy of Letters in 1976. Her home Villa Ocampo was used for cultural dialogues under the auspices of UNESCO. Most of her inherited wealth was spent on promoting Argentine’s culture.

She died at the ripe old age of 88, on January 27th 1979. Her remains were interred at La Recoleta, the largest cemetery in Buenos Aires.

JOSEFINA GEURRERO – BRAVEST SPY OF THE MANILA WATERFRONT

.Manila on the eastern shore of the Manila Bay is the largest and most densely populated city in the Philippines. It was the scene of the bloodiest battle in the Pacific theatre during World War II, and was occupied by the Japanese from 1942-1945. The Philippine Guerilla Movement sabotaged Japanese communication lines, and assisted the American forces by providing information about secret tunnels and air raid shelters.

Among the members of the Resistance, was a young Filipino woman disfigured by leprosy, who shuffled through the streets of Manila. She carried on her ‘cloak and dagger’ activities in favour of the American forces, and was totally ignored by the unsuspecting Japanese.

Josefina Geurrero was once a pretty vivacious belle of Manila society. She was married to a wealthy medical student at St. Tomas University. Their daughter was two years old when Josefina contracted leprosy in 1941, and had to be confined to a leprosarium for treatment.

With the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, men were forced into labour camps, women were sent off to brothels, and the leprosariums were closed. Josefina used her disease as a secret weapon against the enemy. She was an outcaste and an untouchable, isolated from society. The Japanese were repulsed by her appearance and did not suspect her activities. Ragged and ugly, disease did not hamper her activities, and she had the run of the streets. She became a conduit for food, clothing and medicines to the American prisoners of war. As a member of the Resistance Movement, she was responsible for preparing maps of Japanese installations, aircraft batteries and fortifications on the waterfront. From her drawings, American planes were able to pinpoint targets and blast them to smithereens.

When the American troops arrived at Leyte, Joey (as she was fondly called by the Americans) carried a map of Japanese-held territory, showing locations of land mines on the planned route of the invasion. The map was taped to her back between her shoulder blades. Over this, she carried her back pack. Trudging 56 miles through Japanese encampments, Joey reached the 37th Infantry Division of the US army. This enabled them to avoid the mines as they marched towards Manila. She was awarded the Philippine Medal of Freedom for her courage. The US government bestowed on her the highest award given to a civilian – The Medal of Freedom with a silver palm.

Though leprosariums were reopened after the war, the Philippine government had no funds to run them. The US Attorney General Thomas Clarke waived immigration rules to bring Joey to a leprosarium in Carville, La. She was only thirty years old when she arrived in San Francisco. She was greeted by army officials, dignitaries and about 300 war veterans. The veterans’ band played the Philippine national anthem. Joey was overwhelmed by this display of gratitude. Her arms laden with flowers she smiled and said, “This is much more than I expected.”

Then an Air Force plane bore her away to Carville.

ANANDIBAI JOSHI – DOCTOR EXTRAORDINAIRE.

The Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery overlooking the Hudson River in the heart of New York is a beautiful place to visit. Great men and women have been laid to rest in this tranquil atmosphere, with its artistically laid out gardens and monuments. Here in Lot 216-A stands an upright rectangular stone adjacent to the plot belonging to an old family – the Carpenters. It is simple and devoid of ornamentation, under which is interred the ashes of the first Indian female Hindu doctor, Dr. Anandibai Joshi, who received her medical education abroad. Why her ashes were transported from India to New York, is a story worth telling.

Born into a wealthy Brahmin family in Kalyan (near Bombay) on March 31st 1865, this little girl was married off at the age of nine, to a widower who was twenty years her senior. Gopal Rao Joshi was a postal clerk. But he was a progressive thinker who supported widow marriage and the education of women. Her name was promptly changed from Yamuna to Anandibai, and he made it his life’s vocation to educate her. He was transferred from Kalyan to Alibagh to Calcutta. He sent her to mission schools whenever possible, but took it on himself to teach her English. Gopal would take his young wife for long walks during which his teaching sessions continued. He was convinced that learning English was more important than learning Sanskrit. But Anandibai confessed that learning from her husband was not easy. He would hit her with pieces of wood or chairs or books. Later, in her correspondence with him from USA, she had the courage to complain against his tyranny.

“I had no recourse but to allow you to hit me with chairs, and bear it with equanimity.”

Anandibai delivered a child at fourteen. The boy lived for only ten days as both of them did not receive proper medical care, because the only doctor available was a Christian. This was the beginning of her ill-health. It made her determined to become a doctor so that she could help other Hindu women. In this, she was fully supported by her husband. Gopal wanted to send her abroad for medical studies, even though they had no money. But here was a woman who believed that whatever the circumstances, nothing or nobody could stand in the way of her achieving her dreams. Her determination coupled with her husband’s encouragement was the first step towards achievement.

Gopal wrote to a missionary friend Royal Wilder in the US, asking for help to admit Anandibai to a medical school, and also find a job for himself. The missionary was willing to help on one condition, that they convert to Christianity. This was unacceptable to the couple. However, Wilder was good enough to publish Gopal’s letter in the Princeton Missionary Review. A woman named Theodosia Carpenter was touched by the earnestness of the letter. She offered to accommodate Anandibai when she came to the US. She struck up a correspondence with the girl, and they became good friends through their epistolary exchanges. They discussed Hindu culture and religion. They exchanged views on early marriages and the effect this had on women’s health, of the status of women in society and various other women’s issues. Anandibai’s clarity of thought on such issues was very mature. She was a feminist and believed that she had a right to live and grow and follow her heart. Theodosia brought out the best in her.

But Anandibai’s health began to deteriorate. While in Calcutta she suffered from fever, breathlessness and general debility. The medicines that Theodosia sent did not do much good. Gopal however, was determined to send her to USA for her medical studies.

There was much opposition from the conservative Hindu community. They were insulted, ostracized and sometimes physically attacked. In a letter to Theodosia she wrote,

“My designs meet with approbation of a few, say one or two thousands. They are probably youth, reformists and patriots. I am not discouraged. I must not fear but show all, what Indian ladies are.”

Anandibai addressed the opponents in her community about the urgent need for female Hindu doctors. She talked convincingly about her son’s death and her own ill-health because there was no Hindu doctor to care for her. She also promised that she would never convert to Christianity. Her speech made an impact on the community. Donations began to pour in. Even the Viceroy made a donation of two hundred rupees.

So in June 1883 at the age of nineteen, a weak but determined Anandibai sailed to USA, chaperoned by two friends of Theodosia. She got admission to the first Women’s Medical Programme offered by the University of Pennsylvania. She even won a scholarship of $ 600/- for three years. Her dissertation was on “Obstetrics among the Hindu Aryans.”

Anandibai in her 9-yard Maharastrian sari must have been something of an oddity. With her arms and calves exposed, the cold was unbearable. In this weak state, she contracted Tuberculosis. But in spite of ill health, she persevered with her studies. She graduated on 11th March 1886. Her husband and a social reformer Pandita Ramabai were present at this function. Even Queen Victoria sent her a congratulatory message. The Philadelphia Post wrote, “Little Mrs. Joshee who graduated with high honours in her class, received quite an ovation.”

Anandibai sailed back to India on October 9, 1886, and received a rousing welcome on arrival. She was made physician in charge of the female ward in Albert Edward Hospital, Kohlapur. But her professional life was short lived. Illness claimed her on February 26th, 1887, at the early age of 22. Gopal sent her ashes back to USA to be laid to rest in Theodosia Carpenter’s family plot at the Poughkeepsie Cemetery.

Here was a brave child woman whose determination empowered her, but her frail body gave out prematurely. Her last words were “I did all that I could.”

THE CLOUD MAIDENS OF SIGIRIYA

 Sigiriya is Sri Lanka’s most famous Lion Rock. From Kandy, it takes about two hours to reach there. The giant rock towering over the surrounding forests and looming into the skies at a height of 200 metres, can be seen from a distance.

In the 5^th Century A.D. the rock resembled a recumbent lion with an artificial head built of bricks, resting on two enormous lion paws hewn out of the rock. Between these paws was a steep stairway that led to the magnificent palace of King Kassapa. Today, all that this left on the flat top are the ruins of this palace.

Sigiriya was later handed over to the Buddhist clergy, who used it as a monastery up till the 14^th century. Then it fell into disuse until rediscovered by the British in the 19^th Century.

The picturesque road leading to the base of the rock is through well laid out gardens, fountains, pools covered with lotuses and birds of bright plumage that dart in and out of the trees.

It is a long climb to the top over boulders linked by limestone stairs. Protective handrails make the ascent easier. But half way up, one encounters a fabulous sheltered gallery covered by rock paintings of beautiful sensuous women, reminiscent of the Ajanta frescoes in India. They are of graceful bare-breasted women with slender necks encased in dangling chains, narrow hips and coiffs decked with flowers. They seem to rise from the clouds in colours of red and gold, singly or in pairs, with expressions that reflect a variety of moods. These figures which are painted on the open surface of the rock were once more than 550 in number. Today, only 23 have survived the onslaught of time.

Beyond the fresco gallery, there are steps clinging to the sides of the rock. They are protected from the elements by a wall three metres high, which is glazed on the inside, and has retained its shine over the last 1000 years. It is called the Mirror Wall and graffiti scribbled on its surface describe the impressions of visitors about these gorgeous damsels painted in the gallery. Only about 685 of these have been deciphered. They are written in Singhalese or Tamil. But for those curious to know what they mean, English translations can be found in any tourist guide book.

“The ladies who wear golden chains on their breasts beckon me. As I have seen these ladies, heaven appears to me not so good.”

“Hail golden coloured one on the mountainside, whose resplendent rosy hand bore a blue water lily, bewitched my heart and tore it from another.”

One from a jealous female scribbler says, “A dew-eyed female from the mountainside arouses anger in my mind. In her hand she has taken a string of pearls and in her looks she has assumed rivalry of us.”

Who were these ‘cloud maidens’ of Sigiriya? Archeologists and historians have voiced their own views. Some suggested that they represent ‘Lightening’ and ‘Clouds.’ Others believe that they are ladies from King Kassapa’s court in a devotional procession to the shrine of Pidurangala. Some call them ‘apsaras’ and others say these are artistic depictions of court life and its expressions of royal shenanigans.

But as Sigiriya was used as a Buddhist monastery, the common belief is that these frescoes are representation of the Goddess Tara, who is worshipped in many centres of Mahayana Buddhism. She is a heavily jewelled deity who dresses in colours of red, yellow, green or blue and holds a water lily or lotus in her hand.

Whoever these frescoes depict and however old they may be, they cast a magic spell on viewers who climb the Sigiriya rock all the way to the top.