Makha Bucha

Makha Bucha (Makha Bucha) falls on the full-moon night of the 3rd lunar month of the Thai calendar, converting to roughly February through March on the Gregorian calendar.

It is not a fixed month-and-day, but follows the Thai lunar calendar — that calendar is based on the moon's phases, and the full-moon night of the 3rd month is Makha Bucha, so the corresponding Gregorian date shifts a little from year to year. The day is a Thai public holiday.

Precisely because the date is worked out year by year from the Thai lunar calendar, to plan this trip please go by the date Thailand officially announces for that year, and do not use the previous year's Gregorian date.

Makha Bucha is a festival the whole of Thailand keeps together, and it is held at temples everywhere, with the major temples in Bangkok and the provinces being especially lively.

The place I went that night with my mother was just such an ordinary temple. After nightfall, the stupa is ringed by a slowly moving circle of candlelight, and the air holds the scent of incense and candle wax, warm and quiet. If you too want to find this mood, head for a large temple near where you are staying — you will most likely not be disappointed.

If you like quiet, unhurried settings, Makha Bucha will suit you well. The line circling the stupa is long, yet almost no one speaks, only the sound of hundreds of feet treading softly on the ground.

That night, ahead of me was a mother leading a small girl by the hand, steadying the child's little hand so the candle would not tilt and drip onto her hand; further ahead was a young man come alone, eyes closed, lips faintly moving.

It also suits coming with family. I came with my mother — she has lived alone these years, has believed in the Buddha most of her life, and this night of circling the stupa she would come no matter what. So whether you want to find a stretch of quiet on your own, or to walk a while with an elder who holds their faith dear, there is room for you here.

Because it is held at temples everywhere, planning is actually simple — choose a place to stay not far from a major temple, and after dark walk or take a short trip over; the candlelit circling that is most worth joining is right after dark.

Be sure to remember: the day is a public holiday, and some places suspend alcohol sales. Factor this in when arranging dinner or evening plans, so you are not caught out.

The circling itself is free to join as you wish; the point is not the cost but leaving an unhurried evening — do not pack the night too full, and give yourself time to walk the three circles slowly.

The signature rite is called 'wian tian': after dark, holding candles, incense and flowers, circle the stupa or hall three times clockwise, honouring the Buddha, his teaching and the monastic community.

Just follow along. Take two candles, keep one and hand one to the person with you, fall into the line, and walk in everyone's direction. The flames sway faintly in the night wind, and the lotus's scent is faint, mixed into the incense, smelled only in deep stillness.

After three circles, set the candle in the holder before the stupa, beside hundreds of others, the flames joining into one sheet — this is how the whole rite closes.

Temples welcome visitors to join the circling, but please keep a few things in mind: dress modestly, stay quiet, and follow the local devotees' pace.

In the line circling the stupa almost no one makes a sound, and that quiet is itself part of the mood, so try not to break it. The day is a public holiday and the religious atmosphere is solemn — please respect the rhythm of the place.

Mind the candle in your hand too — that night the wind came in gusts, and Mother guarded hers afraid it would be blown out, while the mother ahead was busy steadying her daughter's candle so the wax would not drip onto her hand.

Because temples all over Thailand hold it, the crowds spread out across the various temples, so it does not get jammed in one place.

The part most worth joining is the candlelit circling after dark, with its solemn and quiet mood. By day you can take it easy and save the circling for after dark — that is the true high point of this festival.

It's a good idea to arrive a little early, let yourself settle into quiet first, and then fall into the line. On my first circle that night I was still counting the rounds; by the start of the second I had forgotten — flame, fragrance, footsteps, the cool night wind, slowly covering layer by layer the day's noise stored in the heart.

Legend holds that on this full-moon night over two thousand years ago, one thousand two hundred and fifty disciples of the Buddha, without prior arrangement, came of one accord before him — and all of them were arahants, already enlightened. On that very night the Buddha taught them the heart of practice: do no evil, do good, purify the mind.

Over two thousand years on, the candle in the palm circles that very night. The step slows without noticing — not from tiredness, but from not wanting it to end too soon — and this, perhaps, is what the rite truly does: with the time of three circles, it lets one slow down.

After three circles, Mother stood a long while, eyes closed, palms together. Standing beside her, I suddenly realised it had been a very long time since I simply kept her company through a thing that mattered to her. I think if you too accompany someone growing old who holds their faith dear through these three circles, you will likely be like me, loath to see the rounds end too soon.