At the Chudamani Vihara in Nagapattinam, Ponniyin Selvan waited with patience. Within his heart surged a fervent longing to travel to Thanjavur and see his father and mother. He was eager to prove that the accusation laid upon him—that he sought to seize the throne of Lanka—was baseless. He also wished to quickly dispel the slander that he had acted in defiance of his father’s command.

Yet, restraining all his desires, he had firmly resolved that he would depart for Thanjavur only after receiving word from his elder sister. Time seemed to pass with great difficulty. He spent some hours participating in the daily rituals and worship conducted by the Buddhist monks. Some time was whiled away admiring the exquisite paintings that adorned the walls of the Chudamani Vihara. The hours spent conversing with the monks, especially with the chief preceptor of the Vihara, brought him a measure of solace and enthusiasm.

For the chief monk of Chudamani Vihara was a man who had journeyed for many years to lands far beyond the southern seas. He had traveled from the land of China to the island of Java, visiting many towns and cities along the way. He could vividly describe those countries, their cities, and the people who dwelled there.

To the south of China, many island nations were then united under the great Srivijaya Empire. Arumanaadu, Kamboja, Manakkavaram, Thalaithakkolam, Maapappalam, Mayirudingam, Lanka Sogam, Thamaralingam, Ilaamuri—many such lands and cities were either subject to or allied with the Srivijaya Empire. Among them all, the city of Kadaram shone as the unrivaled center, famed for its splendor and wealth.

Whenever the chief monk found respite, Ponniyin Selvan would eagerly ask him to describe those distant lands and cities. The monk, never tiring, would narrate tales of the natural riches and the flourishing trade of those countries. He spoke of their abundance of gold and gems, of red rice and sugarcane, and how, in every way, they rivaled the fertile Chola land. He recounted the ancient ties between Tamilakam and those distant realms. He spoke of the wondrous artistry of Pallava sculptors who had journeyed to those lands and erected marvels of sculpture there. He spoke of the grand temples. He described how the arts of painting, music, and dance from Tamilagam had spread through those lands. He spoke of the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, and other epics, of the deities Vinayaka, Subramanya, Shiva, Parvati, and Thirumal, and of the Buddha Dharma—all of which had mingled and taken root in the hearts of the people of those countries. The people there worshipped all these gods together, unable to separate one from the other. He mentioned that Agastya Muni, the father of the Tamil language, was accorded special reverence in those lands, and that many temples had been built in his honor.

Arulmozhi Varman listened to all this again and again, questioned the monk closely, and engraved it in his mind. The prince inquired thoroughly about the land and sea routes to each of those countries. He asked about the dangers and conveniences along the way and learned all he could.

“Swami! Might you one day journey again to those lands?” he asked.

“It will happen as the will of the Buddha dictates, Prince! Why do you ask?” replied the Bhikshu.

“Only because I wish to accompany you.”

“I am a renunciate who has forsaken the world; you are the royal son of the emperor who rules the earth. How can you and I journey together? Even the responsibility of keeping you safe in this vihara for a few days weighs heavily upon me. My heart beats anxiously, not knowing what might happen, or when…”

“Swami! I wish to relieve you of that burden at once. This very moment, from here—”

“Prince! I spoke without thinking. Though it is a burden to keep you here, I consider it a blessing. Your father, the emperor, and your sister, the young princess, have rendered great service to the Buddha Dharma. What we do now cannot repay even a thousandth part of our debt of gratitude. Is the help you have given to the Buddha Dharma so small? Can we forget your service in having the ruined stupas and viharas of Anuradhapura restored and inscribed? In return for all that, the monks came forward to offer you the very jeweled crown of Lanka as a token of gratitude. Prince! Why did you refuse it? Had you ascended the independent throne of Lanka, then on hundreds and hundreds of ships… “With such a great retinue, could you not have traveled to the southern lands? Did you never feel the desire in your heart to follow this bhikshu on his pilgrimage?” asked the Acharya Bhikshu.

“Gurudeva! Have you ever read the ‘Maha Vamsa’, the chronicle of the royal lineage of Lanka?” the prince asked.

“Sir! What kind of question is that? Could I have become the head of this Chudamani Vihara without having read the ‘Maha Vamsa’?”

“Forgive me. When I asked if you had read the ‘Maha Vamsa’, it was as if I were questioning whether you knew how to read at all. But you know well, do you not, what dreadful and terrible sins were committed by those in the royal lineage described in the ‘Maha Vamsa’? Sons imprisoned their fathers. Fathers slew their sons. Mothers poisoned their own children; sons burned their mothers alive… If such was the bond between parents and their offspring, what need is there to speak of uncles, aunts, stepmothers, elder and younger brothers…? Gurudeva! Does not the ‘Maha Vamsa’ declare that such heinous crimes were committed by the royal family of Lanka?”

“Yes, yes! It also tells of the punishments that befell them for such evil deeds. By showing those examples, the ‘Maha Vamsa’ instructs people to walk the path of dharma. Do not forget that! The ‘Maha Vamsa’ is a sacred text, a peerless scripture that teaches dharma to the world!” the Acharya Bhikshu exclaimed fervently.

“Swami, I do not