The principal food of supaṇṇas is nāgas, and it is in the context of the eternal enmity between these two mighty races that we most often encounter supaṇṇas in the literature.
A supaṇṇa, seeking his food, beat his wings to create a wind which drove the ocean waters asunder and exposed the domain of the nāgas. The supaṇṇa seized a nāga-king by the head and flew away with him, back to his home in the Himavā. On the way there, the nāga, in his struggle to get free, wrapped his tail around the branch of a great banyan tree. The supaṇṇa, not knowing the cause of the obstruction, made a mighty leap into the sky and the entire tree was torn away, roots and all.
Reaching his nest, the supaṇṇa tore open the nāga’s belly with his beak, ate the fat, and let the rest of the body fall into the sea. It was only then that he noticed the banyan tree, still wrapped within the nāga’s coils.
“That tree was of great comfort to a hermit who has his dwelling near it. I wonder if I have made bad kamma. I should go and ask him about it.” So the supaṇṇa assumed the form of a young brahmin student and went to the hermit’s abode. Feigning ignorance, he asked about the great hole in the earth, and was told it was made when a supaṇṇa tore up a banyan in his struggle with a great nāga. The hermit went on to explain that no bad kamma was made by the supaṇṇa or by the nāga in the act, because neither had intended to destroy the tree.
Delighted by this answer, the supaṇṇa revealed his identity and in his gratitude gave the hermit the gift of a powerful spell (manta), the alampāyanamantaṃ which was an offering beyond price (Jāt 543).
In the contest between the nāgas and supaṇṇas, the nāgas at one time had an advantage, which they later lost in a secret defense:
A nāga and a supaṇṇa were both separately the disciples of a naked ascetic. One day the supaṇṇa asked the hermit about the difficulties his people were having in catching their prey, with a great many supaṇṇas perishing in the attempt. “There must be some secret in this matter.” The ascetic promised to find it out. When he next saw the nāga, he asked him about it, but the nāga kept his counsel and refused to reveal the secret defense. But at last, the wily ascetic managed to convince the nāga that he would keep his secret, and only wanted to satisfy his own curiosity.
Trusting in the hermit, the nāga explained, “We swallow heavy rocks, and when the supaṇṇas struggle to lift us out of the water, they are themselves dragged under and many of them perish this way. If the fools were to take us by the tail, instead of by the head, they could hold us upside down and force us to vomit up the stones. But they do not know this.”
Alas! The hermit was not worthy of the trust the nāga bestowed upon him, and the secret was passed on to the supaṇṇa, and now the supaṇṇas always take their prey by the tail. (Jāt 518)
Occasionally, the supaṇṇas can rise above their hunger and make peace with the nāgas. This happened later in the above story: when the supaṇṇa had seized the nāga the latter begged for his life and called upon the supaṇṇa’s compassion. The latter relented, and let his fellow student go, but the secret of the nāgas’ defence was lost forever.370 Another such incident is related in the Vidhurapaṇḍita Jātaka, where Sakka, a human king, a nāga king and a supaṇṇa king were all the students of the sage Vidhura, and fast friends besides. When the four were contesting who had demonstrated the most virtue, the nāga claimed that even in the presence of the destroyer of his race, he felt no anger and the supaṇṇa’s boast was that even in the presence of his favourite food, he was able to overcome his hunger (Jāt 543).
Supaṇṇas are subject to all four modes of rebirth, as are the nāgas. Just as in the case of the nāgas, these form hierarchically arranged classes. Each kind of supaṇṇa will only catch and eat nāgas that are of the same, or a lower order. Thus, a spontaneously born supaṇṇa will eat any kind of nāga, but a moisture-born one will not eat a spontaneously born nāga; a womb-born supaṇṇa will eat only womb-born or egg-born nāgas and an egg-born one will eat only egg-born nāgas (SN 30:2).
While the supaṇṇas are not included among the retinues of one of the Four Great Kings, they are mentioned as forming one of the five lines of defence against the asuras (Jāt 31).
CHAPTER THREE—THE LOWER REALMS
3:3:1 PETAS—HUNGRY GHOSTS
The petas (Sanskrit: preta) are wretched beings tormented primarily by hunger and thirst. The word peta has been translated as “ghost”, “hungry ghost,” “the departed”371 or “afflicted spirit”.372 A female peta is called a petī. The Sanskrit made a distinction between the pitaraḥ, honoured spirits of the ancestors, and the preta, tormented ghosts. These concepts are somewhat merged in the Pali peta.373 The derivation of the word is according to the Pali English Dictionary to be pa + ī, lit. “gone before”. It may also be related to the word for “father,” pitar. Thus, pettika means “paternal” and pitāmaha means “ancestral” (lit. “grandfathers”) (MN 82) One’s ancestral domain is pettika visaya, which is often used figuratively to represent, for instance, the object of meditation as opposed to the world of the senses (SN 47:6). Compare this to pettivisayaṃ which means the state of existence of a peta.374 The word peta may also simply indicate the dead, or even a physical corpse. Thus, the Dīgha Commentary states that “the dead (lit. ‘those whose time is done’) are called peta” (petā nāma kālaṅkatā), (DN-a 32) and a verse from the Suttanipāta refers to a body on the funeral pyre as “the peta, the departed one” (petaṃ kālaṅkataṃ) (Sn 3:8).
Taking all this into consideration, the translation of peta by “ghost” is not too far off the mark. Although the state of being a peta is considered a distinct realm of rebirth, one of the five gati, (DN 33) petas are associated with the ancestors, and with the dead. As we shall see, the descriptions of individual petas often portray their forms and their sufferings as closely related to the deeds of their previous existence as human beings. They are wretched, helpless shades of the flesh-and-blood beings that once walked upon the earth.
DESCRIPTION
Individual petas vary greatly in form, but some characteristics may be regarded as “normal” for this class of being, as they recur again and again in the descriptions. The typical peta is naked, ugly and stinking (Pv-a 1:6). He is emaciated by his long hunger, lean, with prominent ribs and veins (Pv-a 2:1). They are “hungry and thirsty, living off the gifts of others, very miserable, deprived of happiness” (Ud-a 2:8).
Some are clothed in rags, others covered only by their hair
The petas wander in search of food, going this way and that.
Having roamed far, and finding nothing,
Overcome by hunger, they stagger and fall swooning to the earth. (Pv 3:1)
The petas in one passage are said to be between sixty and eighty hattha in size.375 This would make them gigantic in human terms, twenty-seven to thirty-six metres tall. This is hard to reconcile with most of the stories which make no reference to their size in their various encounters with human beings. The petas always sleep on their backs, because they have too little flesh and blood to support any other posture (DN-a 16). They are often called “miserable denizens of Yama’s world.”376 They are normally invisible and were seen, for instance, by Moggallāna only because he possessed the dibbacakkhu (“divine eye”) psychic power (SN-a 19:1). However, they are on rare occasions seen by ordinary persons:
The wealthy lay follower Soṇa Koṭikaṇṇa was travelling with a merchant caravan to Ujjeni. One night the caravan stopped to rest in a pleasant wood. Soṇa was troubled by the noisy group and moved his sleeping mat a little distance away, seeking more seclusion. In the morning, the caravan left early, forgetting Soṇa who awoke to find himself alone.
He hurried down the road, hoping to catch up with them. Under a large banyan tree he encountered a very ugly fat man who was tearing off his own flesh and eating it. “Who are you?” asked Soṇa. “I am a peta.” “Why do you do this?” “It is the result of my own past kamma. I was a disho
nest merchant in the city of Bhārukaccha who cheated others out of their property. Furthermore, when I was approached by samaṇas and brahmins, I told them to go eat their own flesh. Because of these deeds, I have come to this suffering.”
Continuing down the road, a little further on Soṇa encountered two boy petas (petadārake) with black blood oozing from their mouths. Upon being asked, they told him that they had been boys in Bhārukaccha and their family lived by selling perfume. Their mother was going out to offer food to an arahant bhikkhu one day when they reviled her. “You are giving our property away to these samaṇas! May the food you give him turn to black blood in his mouth.” For this deed, they were reborn in niraya, and passing from there with some residual kamma remaining they had come to this state of suffering.
Having had these experiences, Soṇa developed a fear of the horrors of saṃsāra and asked the elder Mahākaccāna for the going-forth (pabbāja, the initial or novice ordination into the order of bhikkhus). (Ud-a 5:6)
Koliya, one of King Bimbisāra’s ministers, also saw a peta:
Once there lived a hunter who lived by killing deer in the forest. Whenever he returned to his home village he would give morsels of meat to the village children, and once, some flowers.
When he died he was reborn as a peta with an ugly, deformed body. He was naked except for a garland of flowers upon his brow. He did not know food or drink but walked, as if dreaming, upon the surface of the Ganges River ever seeking his village and his kin.
There he was seen by Koliya who was returning by boat from a royal mission. (Pv-a 3:1)
Very often, the particular suffering endured by a peta is directly related to their former misdeeds:
Once there was a land-owner with a barren wife. Wishing for sons, he took a second wife. When she conceived, the first wife grew jealous and gave her a drug to induce a miscarriage. Two months into her pregnancy, the blood flowed forth and the baby was lost. The first wife was suspected of the crime, but when accused by her husband she swore a false oath: “If I am guilty of this deed, may I eat the flesh of my own sons.”
As a result, upon death she was reborn as a petī with an ugly form and a foul, putrid odour. She was naked and covered with flies. Every dawn she would bring forth five baby boys, and again at sunset five more. Her heart burning and smoking with hunger, she would each time devour them all but even this was never enough. Nor did she ever get anything to drink. (Pv-a 1: 6)
Polygamous marriages in ancient India were often the scene of bitter rivalries between co-wives. The following excerpt is another example. It also illustrates nicely the relationship between kamma and result. (In the original, the dialogue is in verse).
A land-owner of Sāvatthi had two wives, Mattā and Tissā. Tissā was faithful, calm and pleasant to her husband. Mattā was faithless and angry and barren besides. When Mattā gave birth to a son, Tissā became even more hostile to her rival and began to abuse her in various ways. After death, she became a wretched petī and appeared before Tissā.
“You are naked, ugly, covered in veins, emaciated with your ribs standing out. Who are you, standing there?”
“I am Mattā, you are Tissā. We were co-wives. On account of my evil kamma, I have gone to the world of the petas (petaloka).
“I was violent, abusive, jealous and miserly. Because I spoke harshly to you, I have gone to the world of the petas.”
“This I know. But I would ask you something else, why are you covered in dirt?”
“Seeing you once, freshly bathed and adorned, seated in pleasant conversation with our husband, I grew angry and jealous. Taking a handful of dirt, I threw it over your head. As a result of that deed, I am covered in dirt.”
“This I know. But I would ask you something else. Why are you covered with itchy scabs?”
“Once we were gathering herbs in the forest. You took medicinal plants, I took the kapikacchu plant.377 Without your knowing it, I sprinkled some into your bed. As a result of that deed, I am covered in itchy scabs.”
“This I know. But I would ask you something else. Why are you naked?”
“There was a social gathering of friends and family. Our husband invited you, but not me. So, without your knowledge I hid your clothes. As a result of that deed, I am naked.” (Pv-a 2:3)
Another example:
Moggallāna once saw a peta buried up to his neck in a cesspit. The peta told his story. “I was a householder who supported a bhikkhu of bad character. This bhikkhu was greedy and selfish; he was attached to my household and jealous of other bhikkhus. Listening to his words, I too began to abuse the good bhikkhus. As a result of that, I am a peta in a cesspit.”
Moggallāna asked him what became of the evil-minded bhikkhu. “I am standing on his head. My food is what others defecate; the bhikkhu lives upon what I expel.” (Pv-a 4:8)
Most descriptions of petas portray them in a more or less human form, albeit often frightful and ugly. In a few instances, they have animal characteristics. For instance, we are told of a snake-peta who had the head of a man and the body of a snake, (Dhp-a 5:12) and of a pig-peta with a man’s head on a pig’s body (Dhp-a 20: 6). In one case, we hear of an actual animal reborn as a peta:
At one time, Moggallāna saw a crow-peta with a body twenty-five yojana in size enduring suffering on Gijjhakūṭa (“Vulture’s Peak”). When asked by what kamma he had acquired this body, the peta explained that he had been a crow at the time of Kassapa Buddha and had stolen three mouthfuls from a food offering. As a result, he was reborn in Avīci niraya and passing from there with kamma remaining, took form as a crow-peta. (Dhp-a 5: 12)
In the stories the petas are generally too powerless to harm human beings, despite their horrifying appearance. It is said in one place, however, that they have a poisonous breath which can cause sickness (Jāt 510).
3:3:2 MOGGALLĀNA’S VISIONS OF PETAS
Moggallāna was one of the Buddha’s chief disciples, renowned for his psychic powers. He very frequently had visions of beings like petas and devas invisible to others. There is a collection of such anecdotes in the Lakkhaṇasaṃyutta of the Saṃyutta Nikāya (SN 19:1 f.). The twenty-one separate suttas each follow the same pattern. The Buddha, together with many bhikkhus, is dwelling upon Gijjhakūṭa, (“Vulture’s Peak”) a hill near Rājagaha. As Moggallāna, together with another bhikkhu named Lakkhaṇa, is walking down the hill in the morning to seek alms, Moggallāna smiles. Lakkhaṇa asks him the reason for this and Moggallāna tells him to wait, he will answer in the presence of the Buddha. Later, when they have returned and finished their meals, Moggallāna explains that he saw a peta, and describes it. The Buddha says that in the past, he too saw this peta and explains the kamma that led to its particular rebirth.
The first peta is described as a skeleton flying through the air pursued by various birds of prey that peck and stab at it, causing it to howl in anguish. The Buddha explains that this peta had once been a cattle-butcher in Rājagaha and after suffering in niraya for many hundreds of thousands of years; his remaining kamma had caused him to take this form (SN 19:1).
The twenty-one short repetitive suttas of the Lakkhaṇasaṃyutta follow this general pattern. The petas described fall into a few groups of similar cases:
Those pursued by birds—Besides the skeleton, there was a “lump” of flesh (maṃsapesiṃ) and a “piece” of flesh (maṃsapiṇḍa), a skinless man, a skinless woman, a foul-smelling and ugly woman and a headless trunk all described in the same way as flying through the air being tormented by crows, vultures and hawks. Most of these had been various kinds of butchers, but the headless trunk had been an executioner, the skinless woman had been an unfaithful wife and the ugly woman had been a fortune-teller (ikkhaṇikā). The commentary states that she served the yakkhas, literally “did a slave’s work for the yakkhas” (yakkhadāsikammaṃ karontī). This probably means that she allowed herself to become possessed, allowing the yakkha to act and speak through her.378
One more case in this group fal
ls outside the general pattern. This being is described as a kumbhaṇḍa purisa, a kumbhaṇḍa-man. A kumbhaṇḍa is a type of being to be described in a later chapter, (§ 3:4, 5) a kind of lesser deity or demon whose distinguishing characteristic is a pair of enormous testicles. When the peta in this sutta walks, he is obliged to throw his testicles over his shoulder, and when he sits, he uses them as a cushion. He too is seen by Moggallāna flying through the air, torn by fierce birds. He had been a corrupt magistrate. The commentary explains his peculiar kamma: because he did fraudulent dealings in secret, his private parts were now exposed and because he inflicted unjust punishments on others, these same private parts now became an unbearable burden for him (SN-a 19:10).
The commentary to these passages explains that the birds are not really birds but yakkha-birds, because the peta beings would be invisible to ordinary birds (SN-a 19:1). We will discuss the ambivalent word yakkha later,379 but in this context it may be interpreted as “spirit-birds.”
Those cut by their sharp hairs—There was a peta with body-hair380 like swords which were moving up and down and striking him as he flew through the air, uttering cries of pain. Likewise there was one with body-hair like spears, another with hair like arrows and two with needle-hairs. The second needle-hair peta is described a little differently. In his case, the hairs penetrate various parts of his body and emerge elsewhere. “They enter his mouth and come out of his chest; they enter his chest and come out of his belly etc.” Most of these had followed various cruel professions, such as hunter or torturer. The second needle-hair peta had been a slanderer (SN 19:5–9).
The Buddhist Cosmos Page 27