The Buddhist Cosmos

by Punnadhammo Mahathero

  These stories also illustrate something of the familial relations among the yakkhas. Āḷavaka has an heirloom passed down from his mother and father, and Puṇṇaka is described as the nephew of Vessavaṇa. This implies that the yakkhas give birth in the same manner as humans, but in some other stories they seem to be arise spontaneously, like the devas.464 So, in several respects, yakkhas are hard to classify. Are they best considered a kind of demon or as a lower class of deity? Perhaps it is better just to think of them sui generis as a broad category of non-human beings; often the word amanussa, “non-human,” is used as a synonym for yakkha.

  The familial relations of yakkhas is poignantly illustrated by two similar stories from the Saṃyutta Nikāya. In the first, a yakkhinī (female yakkha) in a wretched condition is out with her little yakkha son searching for food when she hears Anuruddha, one of the arahants, chanting verses of Dhamma. She hushes her child when he fusses and expresses the wish that by hearing the Dhamma and practising harmlessness and virtue, they might obtain release from the pisācayoni (SN 10:6). This last word means literally “birth as a pisāca”, a type of low being we shall consider below. The commentary adds further details. It says that the food they were seeking was urine, faeces, saliva and other such filth, which would make their state of existence much like that of the petas. The sweet sound of Anuruddha’s voice pierced the yakkhinī to the marrow of her bones, and inspired her to follow the precepts from that moment on (SN-a 10:6). The other story is similar, except the yakkha mother had two children, a boy and a girl. They overheard the Buddha giving a discourse and this yakkha-mother too, shushed her hungry young ones and gained stream-entry by overhearing the Dhamma. The commentary says that all three were also transformed into devas. Even though the girl child was too young to understand the Dhamma, and did not become a sotāpanna, she did obtain a deva existence through the influence of her mother.465 These stories once again demonstrate the blurry boundaries between yakkhas, pisācas, petas and devas.

  When we turn our attention to the Jātaka literature, we see that the demonic side of the yakkhas is definitely emphasized. We also learn many interesting details about the nature of these beings; for instance that they sometimes live in towns of their own (yakkhanagara), and that even when assuming a human form they can be recognized by their red eyes and by the fact that they cast no shadow, (Jāt 1) and that they are afraid of iron and palm-leaves (Jāt 510). Yakkhas are often portrayed as living in lonely places: deserts, forests or mountains. Sometimes a mountain is named after a yakkha, and sometimes the yakkha is named after the mountain.466

  Some yakkhas live in charnel grounds and feed off the human corpses, but it is too simple to categorize them as simple monsters. There is, once again, the matter of their paradoxically law-abiding nature:

  At one time, the righteous ruler of Bārāṇasī, King Sīlavakumāra, had been overthrown by his enemy, the evil King of Kosala. The good king, together with his ministers, was taken to the charnel ground, buried up to their necks and left to perish there.

  It happened that there were many yakkhas in that charnel ground, who lived by devouring the flesh of corpses. Two of them fell to quarrelling over possession of a body which lay on the border of their respective territories. Unable to settle the dispute themselves, they took the matter to King Sīlavakumāra. “We cannot make a division ourselves, but this King Sīlavakumāra is righteous (dhammika) and he can make the division for us. Let us go to him!”

  So the yakkhas, dragging the corpse by the foot, went to where King Sīlavakumāra was buried and sought his counsel. He agreed to settle the dispute, but said that first he needed to bathe, to eat and to drink. Using their magical power (ānubhāva) they took everything needful from the usurper’s palace and allowed the king to bathe, eat and drink. When he was done, the yakkhas asked if there was any other service they might perform. “Yes there is. Fetch me the royal sword (maṅgalakagga) which lies by the usurper’s pillow.” This the yakkhas did, and the king used it to divide the corpse length-wise from the head downwards. (Jāt 51)

  The yakkhas are often depicted as wielding great power, sometimes for their own ends and sometimes in the service of human masters.

  At that time, ten brothers, each one a mighty hero, were conquering all of Jambudīpa.467 But the city of Dvāravatī they could not conquer, because it was under the protection of the yakkhas (amanussapariggahita lit. “possessed by non-humans”). A yakkha in the shape of a donkey would patrol the hills outside the town, and if he saw an enemy approaching, he would bray like a donkey and the whole city would rise into the air by the yakkhas’ power (yakkhānubhāvena) and come to rest out in the ocean on an island.

  In despair of completing their conquests, the Ten Brothers sought the help of a famous sage and he told them that they must find the donkey, and obtain his help by humbling themselves at his feet. This they did, and taking hold of the donkey’s feet they begged him not to bray when they approached the city. The donkey-yakkha was willing to help them, but he told them that he could not refrain from braying. “However,” he said “if you fix iron stakes into the ground at the four gates of the city, and attach iron ploughs to these posts with iron chains, the city will not be able to rise.”

  This they did, and thus completed the conquest of the whole of Jambudīpa. (Jāt 454)

  The preferred diet of yakkhas is human flesh, either taken from corpses or from the killing of unwary travellers. The female yakkhas (yakkhī or yakkhinī) are if anything even more ferocious in this regard. They are often depicted as stealing and eating human babies:468

  A yakkhinī having assumed a pleasant human form tricked a woman into letting her play with that woman’s baby boy. Having the baby in her grasp she quickly ran off with him, intending to make the child her dinner. The mother gave chase and caught the yakkhinī by the arm. The two stood fiercely quarrelling in the high street, each claiming the child her own. A crowd of townsfolk gathered, and they took the two women to the sage (paṇḍita) Mahosadha to settle the question as to who was the real mother.

  The sage knew the yakkhinī at once for what she was, by the sign of her red and unblinking eyes, but he made a demonstration of the case for the sake of the onlookers. He drew a line in the sand and asked the two competing “mothers” to hold the baby by the hands and feet and to pull. “Whoever succeeds in dragging the infant across the line may keep him.”

  Of course, the real mother unable to bear the cries of the infant being so cruelly handled, released her hold immediately and stood weeping. By this action, she was revealed to all as the true mother. Mahosodha admonished the yakkhinī: “You are a great fool; by doing evil karma in the past, you have been reborn as a yakkhinī and yet you seek to do yet more harm. Henceforth, do not commit any more evil deeds.”469

  The female yakkhas are also notorious for assuming a beautiful appearance with which to seduce unwary men, who thereby come to destruction:

  To reach the famous centre of learning at Takkasilā, the traveler had to pass through a terrible wilderness known as Amanussakantāro (“the desert of the non-humans”) which was infested with yakkhas. The yakkhinīs would magically create pleasant pavilions by the road-side, covered by brilliantly coloured canopies and full of enticing food and drink. There, a yakkhinī would be reclining on a soft divan in the form of a young and beautiful woman. She would call out to passersby: “Traveller! You look weary, hungry and thirsty! Come rest awhile, eat and drink.” Once inside and seated on the couch beside the yakkhinī, the heedless traveller would be inflamed with lust by the beauty of her limbs, and by the intoxicating scent of her perfume. Yielding to passion, they would have carnal relations and immediately after she would devour him alive (“with the blood still flowing”—lohitena paggharantena). (Jāt 96)

  But sometimes, even in these ferocious yakkhinīs, softer feelings would prevail:

  Once there lived a certain horse-faced (assamukhī) yakkhinī. She had been granted a territory of thirty yojana in extent by Vessava
ṇa in which she had leave to capture and eat any travellers. And this she did for many years. However, while she was carrying one handsome brahmin youth to her cave, her lust was inflamed by contact with his body, and instead of eating him she decided to keep him as her husband. Thereafter, whenever she went out hunting for her victims, she would seal the mouth of the cave with a great rock, for fear that her husband would run away. Now when she killed anyone, besides taking the corpse for her own dinner, she would also take whatever food and other provisions they might have been carrying back to the cave for the use of the brahmin.

  In course of time she conceived by the brahmin and gave birth to a son of normal human appearance, although he had the strength and speed of a yakkha. When he grew older he asked his father why his mother looked so different from them. “She is a yakkha, my son, and we are human beings.” The boy conceived a wish to go live among human beings and he contrived to escape with his father. He was able to remove the rock, which was beyond the strength of the brahmin, and the two fled away.

  The yakkhinī gave chase, but they had managed to reach the river which marked the limit of her domain, and she was unable to cross over. She pleaded with them to return, pitifully asking them what her offence was, and why they wanted to abandon her. The boy replied that she was a yakkha, and they humans, and that they wished to live among their own kind. Despairing of their return, she said to her son, “If you must go, you should know that making a living among men is not easy. I know a magic charm (vijjaṃ—lit. “knowledge”) known as the Cintāmaṇi Charm, by which one can read foot-prints left behind even twelve years ago. I shall teach this to you and by its means, you shall make a living.”

  This she did, while the son and husband stood listening on the far bank of the river. Having finished, she said that her heart was broken and that she could not live without them. She smote herself on the chest and immediately fell down dead. When they were sure she was dead, the two crossed back and made a funeral pile for her body, and cremated her with all due honour and ceremony. (Jāt 432)

  There were some other aspects to the relations between humans and yakkhas that deserve note. Human beings sometimes worshipped yakkhas, and made sacrifices to them, although as often as not the meat ended up being taken by jackals and crows (Jāt 113). One story tells of a regular sacrifice made “in the presence of” a yakkha named Cittarāja (Jāt 276). From the Buddhist perspective, these rites were abhorrent, involving as they did the slaughter of living beings.

  At that time, men were devoted to the worship of the devas (devamaṅgalikā) and made great sacrifices (balikamma) involving the slaughter of many goats. A righteous king on coming to the throne, intended to make a stop to these rites and had proclaimed by beat of drum that all destruction of living beings was to cease.

  This enraged the yakkhas, and they held an assembly in the Himavā and decided to kill the king. They sent a certain ferocious yakkha wielding a blazing iron hammer as big as a roof-top to make an end of the reformer. But Sakka, king of the devas, intervened and stood in the air above the yakkha wielding his thunderbolt and the yakkha withdrew in fear. (Jāt 347)

  Yakkhas are also known on occasion to take possession (gaṇhāti or paviṭṭha) of human minds, driving them mad. Āḷavaka was said to have done this: if a wandering ascetic chanced upon his abode and they were unable to satisfactorily answer his questions, he would use his psychic power to create a subtle form (sukhumattabhāva) and cause their minds to become deranged (khittacittā) (Sn-a 1: 10). In the Mahāumagga Jātaka (Jāt 542, eng 546) there is mention of a yakkha named Naradeva who would would take possession of a certain man on the night of the new moon and make him bark like a dog. Possession by a yakkha is given as one of the eight kinds of madness.470 There existed a kind of seer known as a bhūtavejja who specialized in the exorcism of yakkhas (Jāt 228). One tale of yakkha possession that is interesting not only for the details it gives about the phenomenon, but also for a certain moral ambiguity, is the story of the sāmaṇera (novice) Sānu:

  There was a sāmaṇera named Sānu who was renowned for the beautiful way he would teach the Dhamma, “as if he were bringing the Milky Way (ākāsagaṅga lit. “Sky-Ganges”) down to earth.” He would always make a determination, “may the merit of my preaching go to my mother and father.” Now, his human mother and father knew nothing of this but there was a certain yakkhinī (female yakkha) who had been his mother in a previous existence and who always came with the devas to listen to his preaching. She would say, “I thank the sāmeṇera for the merit he is giving me.” The devas held the sāmaṇera in reverence just as if he were Mahābrahma himself. On account of the sāmaṇera, the devas also held the yakkhinī in great esteem. Whenever the yakkhas held an assembly, they would praise her as “mother of Sānu” and give her the best seat, the best food and the best drink. Even yakkhas of great power would step aside for her, or give her their seat.

  When the sāmaṇera Sānu grew to manhood, he began to become discontented with the life of a bhikkhu and he returned to the home of his parents and declared his intention to return to the lay life. His mother attempted to dissuade him from this course of action, but to no avail. In the end she relented and began preparing some rice gruel for him, all the while still hoping he would change his mind.

  Just then the yakkhinī was wondering, “How is the sāmaṇera? Is he getting almsfood or not?” Upon investigating she discovered that he had returned to his family home with the intention of disrobing. “The sāmaṇera will bring me to shame among the great and powerful devas (mahesakkhā devatā). I must go and make an obstacle to his disrobing.” So she went there and took possession of his body (sarīre adhimuccitvā); with his neck twisted around and saliva dribbling he fell to the ground. When his human mother saw the state of her son, she ran to him in all haste, took him onto her lap and embraced him. All the people of the village came and brought offerings, but she only wept and cried aloud:

  Those who keep the uposatha days,

  And follow a holy life;

  With these the yakkhas do not sport,

  Thus I have heard from the arahants.

  But today, the yakkhas play with Sānu.

  The yakkhinī repeated these verses back to her, and said they were true. Then she spoke a further stanza:

  If you would have Sānu awaken,

  Heed the words of the yakkhas.

  Do no evil deeds, openly or in secret,

  For if you make evil kamma, now or in the future,

  You will not escape from suffering,

  Nor will you avoid being tormented.471

  So saying, the yakkhinī released Sānu who woke up confused as to why he was in such a state, lying down across his mother’s lap. (Dhp-a 23:5)

  In the conclusion, after further conversation with his earthly mother, Sānu saw the error of his ways and returned to the bhikkhu life. This story has a number of significant details. We see here the blurring of the categories of yakkha and deva; the boy’s former mother is always identified as a yakkha, yet she consorts freely with the devas. Her dubious moral character is evidenced by her motive for not wanting Sānu to disrobe: she too much enjoys the privileged treatment she gets from the devas and yakkhas. Notice also that until she speaks, Sānu’s human mother and the others are not aware of her presence and yet they assume that the boy’s fit is due to the intervention of yakkhas. The use by the mother of the masculine plural (yakkhā) is evidence that she is not directly aware of the yakkhinī. It would seem that this kind of seizure was always assumed to be the result of possession by yakkhas.

  When we consider all the evidence, the yakkhas appear to be a class of beings that stand somewhere between the coarse physicality of humanity and the subtler nature of the devas. There is a wide spectrum within the classification of yakkha. The coarsest sort, often called amanussa (non-humans) are ferocious and rough, living off human flesh, sometimes even abiding in charnel grounds. The highest sort are barely distinguishable from the devas. They mostl
y give birth in the ordinary human way, and have family relations like us, but sometimes are said to arise spontaneously like devas. In some stories, like the incident with Sāriputta and Moggallāna, they are invisible to the ordinary human senses, again like the devas. And yet, they are coarsely physical enough to subsist on the flesh of corpses, or even filth. A passage in the Milindapañhā illustrates this ambiguity nicely. King Milinda asks the bhikkhu Nagāsena if there are indeed such things as yakkhas in the world, and if they are born and die like us. When he is told that indeed there are, he further inquires why we do not see their corpses. The answer is that we do. Their corpses take the forms of worms, insects, birds and beasts after death (Mil. 5:2,7 eng. v2 p90–91).

  3:4:3 PISĀCAS AND PAṂSUPISĀCAKAS

  The pisācas are a particularly nasty breed of small yakkha. The word pisāca is etymologically a distant cousin of the English word fiend, (PED) and many translations render it as “goblin.” There are said to be “many, many” kinds of pisāca (DN-a 2) but only two are named in the texts: the pisācillikā472 who live in the hollows of trees and the paṃsupisācaka473 who live in dung heaps and refuse piles. The pisācas are extraordinarily ugly and frightful in appearance and it is a common phrase to say of someone ugly that he or she is “like a pisāca.” Thus, in a section of the Vinaya (monastic rules) devoted to personal hygiene it is said that one who does not trim his nose hairs looks “like a pisācillika” (Vin Mv 3). Elsewhere, it is said of an ugly woman that she has “a basket-head, drooping breasts, a fat belly and is as frightful as a pisāca” (MN-a 66). A boy born deformed, with his hands and feet, eyes, ears, nose and mouth not in their proper place is said to be “as malformed as a paṃsupisācaka” (Dhp-a 5:3). A low-caste person is described as being of a “bad colour” (dubbaṇṇo) resembling a charred stump, “like a paṃsupisācaka” (SN-a 3:21).