‘The ship was made ready. The cargo was loaded. Sailors were hired. The propitious day for departure was decided by the astrologers. The moment for setting sail was fixed. The omens were carefully observed and the words of the astrologers noted. The most respected of the townspeople were suitably honoured and the gods were worshipped. The sail was hoisted and the mast raised. Wood was gathered. Everything that was needed was loaded onto the ship, including food. Vessels were filled with drinking water. As all these preparations were being made, the day for departure came. The two, Lobhadeva and Rudra, their minds filled with joy, bathed and adorned themselves with garlands of flowers, fragrant perfumes, fine clothes and jewellery. Accompanied by family and friends, they boarded the ship. The ship set sail. The drums resounded. The oars were set in motion. Thus the ship began its ocean voyage. A favourable wind was blowing. In no time at all, the vessel reached Jewel Island. The two of them disembarked, taking with them some very valuable objects as presents for the king. They presented their gifts at the feet of the king, and pleased to have secured his favour and permission to trade there, they sold some things and bought others and in time were anxious to return home.
‘As the ship was carried along smoothly by a favourable wind, Lobhadeva gazed at the ocean. He thought to himself, “I have made even more money than I ever dreamt of making. The boat is filled with jewels. The only thing that bothers me is that when we reach the shore, I will have to share my wealth with my companion.” And with this thought, Lobhadeva threw decency to the winds; devoid of any trace of compassion, he pushed the merchant Rudra into the sea as Rudra was squatting to answer the call of nature. Only when the boat had gone a distance of a good three furlongs, did Lobhadeva raise the alarm, “Help! Help! Come quickly! Come quickly! My friend has fallen into the depths of the ocean that swarms with vicious crocodiles.” When they heard this, the crew and the friends and servants who had accompanied them began to search for Rudra. They asked, “Where did he fall in?” He cried, “I think he fell in right here. He must have been swallowed by a crocodile. What use is my life to me now? I cannot live without him. Let me die too.” When they heard this, the crew and the others all thought that he must be in earnest and they did everything they could to dissuade him from committing suicide. The boat continued on its voyage.
‘The merchant Rudra, through his suffering, burnt off his karma. There in the ocean he was swallowed up by a gargantuan crocodile with terrible jaws like a mighty saw. Thus he met his end. He was reborn as a demon, with modest wealth and splendour, in a particular realm of such beings. Using his supernatural knowledge, he saw his own body that had been devoured by the crocodile; he also saw the boat sailing away. He thought to himself, “That wicked Lobhadeva cast me into the sea. Just look at what that evil one has done. He did not care at all about the bonds of friendship and affection between us. He did not even care about all the help I had given him. He had not the slightest bit of compassion.” And as he thought about all of this, anger burned in him like a raging fire. This is what he decided: “I shall kill him and take all the wealth for myself. I shall make sure that neither he nor anyone else gets a penny of it.” And with that in his mind, the demon went to the middle of the ocean. When he spotted the ship, he began at once to make trouble.
‘In the sky there appeared a mass of dark threatening clouds, as if angry at having seen the merchant Rudra bereft of life.
‘Clouds spread out over the sky; lightning flashed across them, like darting glances trying to catch a glimpse of the merchant Rudra. The clouds were filled with water, as if with tears of affection for Rudra.
‘Torrents of rain poured from the clouds onto the ocean, like showers of sharp arrows released from their bows by warriors in battle.
‘Everything was covered in darkness because of the masses of clouds that rose all around; clouds are born of black smoke, and the darkness they caused only seemed to prove the saying that children take after their fathers.
‘The demon’s anger caused the ship to be buffeted by one rolling wave after another; it caused the ship to be tossed by violent winds, striking terror in the heart of everyone on the boat. In the middle of the ocean the boat, filled with all of its many goods, suddenly split apart.
‘As fate would have it, Lobhadeva found a plank of wood, as one might find an island in the sea or water in the desert. He clung to the plank and floated on the ocean.
‘After seven days and seven nights he came to an island. For a moment he felt revived by the cool wind that blew from the coast. But then he was seized by some of the natives, men with black shining bodies and red eyes, looking for all the world like messengers of Yama, the God of Death. Lobhadeva cried, “Gentlemen, what do you want with me?” They lied and said, “Fine sir! Do not worry. Do not be afraid. It is simply our custom that whenever we find a merchant who has been shipwrecked, we welcome him to our island.” Saying this and other things like it, they escorted Lobhadeva to their home. They bowed to him respectfully and offered him a seat. They let him bathe and then fed him and gave him fresh clothes. Then it was that they said, “Sir! Trust us! Do not be afraid.” When he heard their words, Lobhadeva thought to himself, “These people are really kind, even to a stranger.” But no sooner did this thought cross his mind, than those cruel men tied him up and began to cut off pieces of his flesh with a sharp knife. They collected the strips of cut flesh and the blood. Then they smeared his body with a paste that allowed his wounds to heal. When six months had gone by they did the same thing again. Then they fixed him up again. Twelve years went by like this. He lived there on that island, reduced to a skeleton by their constantly stripping him of his flesh and blood.
‘One day when Lobhadeva had just had his flesh cut off and his body was dripping with fresh blood, a gigantic Bhāranda bird spotted him. Thinking that he looked like a tasty morsel, the bird swooped down and snatched him. As the bird that carried him off was flying over the sea, another bird descended on it. The two birds fought, and as fate would have it Lobhadeva fell from the bird’s beak into the sea. The salt water stung him, as the cruel words of a wicked person sting a good person. Lobhadeva, tossed here and there by the rolling waves, was cast onto the shore. It was as if the ocean could not stand to harbour such a wicked man, whose heart was stained by the sin of killing his friend. Lobhadeva, there on that shore, was instantly refreshed by a cool breeze. He wandered off into a forest, where he came upon a banyan tree. When he saw how the ground there was fashioned into a jewelled floor made of emeralds and how it was strewn with all kinds of fragrant blossoms, he thought to himself, “I have heard in the religious texts that the gods live in heaven. Surely they are not the connoisseurs we think them. Otherwise, why would they reject a place like this, the most beautiful place in all the three worlds, heaven, earth and the netherworld, and live in a place like heaven?” He sat down under the banyan tree, and wracked by intense pains, he thought, “What are the good deeds that the gods performed so that they now live happily in heaven? And what is the sin that I have done, that causes me now to suffer in this way?” As Lobhadeva wondered about this, with a jolt of pain he recalled the merchant Rudra. He thought to himself:
‘“Alas, what use is the life of a person like me? I have slain my friend, who was kind to everyone. He was a cultured man, the merchant Rudra, while I was so wicked that I killed him out of greed for wealth. Now I must go to some pilgrimage place and kill myself in one way or another, putting an end to my life, for I am so polluted by the sin of killing a dear friend.”
‘Preoccupied with this thought, Lobhadeva dropped off to sleep for a second. When he woke up an instant later he heard the pleasing sounds of some language coming from somewhere. He thought to himself, “This is not Sanskrit, nor is it Prakrit or Apabhramśa. It must be the fourth language, the language of the demons. Let me listen.” Some demons were talking to each other. One of them said, “The best place to practice austerities and get rid of sin is a place called Pavanābhoga.” Another one said, “
Mount Meru is even better than that.” Still another one said, “The Himalaya mountains, whose rocks are cold from the snow, is even better.” Another said, “What are you talking about? The best place to remove sin is the Ganges, the river of the gods.” When he heard that, Lobhadeva set off for the Ganges, having given up every trace of greed and feeling a sense of satisfaction in his complete lack of desire for anything of this world. O King Purandaradatta, eventually he came to this place and sat down among us.’
When Lobhadeva heard everything that Dharmanandana related, he was filled with a mixture of shame, joy and sorrow. He bowed down at the feet of the guru and said, ‘Everything that you have said is true, O Blessed One, whose lotus feet are worthy of worship. Now what should I do?’ Dharmanandana, the lord of sages, then replied, ‘Son, in order to destroy the sin produced by killing your friend, you must first slay the huge demon of greed with the sword of renunciation of all desires. Then, in order to destroy the karma that you have committed in the past, you must be deeply humble and practice severe austerities. As a swan adorns a lake and makes it even more appealing to those who see it, practice asceticism as set down in the Jain texts in such a way that others will want to follow in your footsteps. Direct your desires towards serving the lady Forbearance. Practice meditation. Shun the subjects and the servants of Emperor Sin. In that way you will attain Final Release, a place that is pure and ever blissful, where there is no old age, no death, no illness, no pain and no suffering.’
When he heard these words Lobhadeva said, ‘Blessed One! If I am worthy of following this way, then show favour on me by ordaining me as a monk.’ Lobhadeva fell at the master’s feet, his eyes suffused with tears, all of his greed now gone. The master, Glorious Dharmanandana, then bestowed upon Lobhadeva the vows of a monk.
(from the Kuvalayamālākathā of Ratnaprabhasūri, p.21)
16
DECEIVING THE DECEIVER
Two men had become good friends. One day they just happened to find a buried treasure somewhere. But one of the men was deceitful. He said to his friend, ‘Let’s wait until tomorrow to take the treasure home; the stars will be more favorable then.’ The second man, who was by nature quite innocent and trusting, agreed. That night the deceitful one returned to the site of the buried treasure and took it for himself; he buried some coals in its place. The next day the two men went together to the treasure site, but all they found there were the coals. The deceitful man made a great show of beating his breast and wailing loudly at the loss. He shouted, ‘Ah! See how little merit we have! Fate gave us eyes to see and then plucked them from us; where we once saw buried treasure now we can see only coals!’ And he kept looking over at the other man, who at once realized, ‘That scoundrel has stolen the treasure.’ But he didn’t let on and pretended to comfort his deceitful friend with words like these, ‘Do not despair. All the crying in the world will not bring the lost treasure back.’ The two of them returned to their own homes.
The honest man had a likeness of his deceitful friend made from clay. It was truly life-like. He caught two monkeys and put things that monkeys like to eat all over the statue, in its lap, in its hand, on its head and shoulders and wherever else he could. The monkeys were starving and they greedily ate the food that was all over the statue. The honest man did this every day until the monkeys were trained to jump all over the statue. And then at the first opportunity, at the very next holiday, he invited the two sons of his deceitful friend for dinner. He fed them a grand meal and then hid them somewhere in his house, where they could play without anyone seeing them. It was not long before the deceitful friend came to claim his children. The honest friend said to him, ‘My friend, your children have turned into monkeys.’ The deceitful man, both amazed and distressed at this news, entered his friend’s home. The honest man had taken the clay statue away and now motioned for his deceitful friend to sit down exactly where the statue had been placed before. He let the monkeys go and screeching and chattering they jumped all over the deceitful man, clinging to his lap, his head, his shoulders and even his hands. The honest friend said, ‘My friend, you can tell that these are your sons. See how much they love you.’ The deceitful one said, ‘My friend, how can human beings suddenly turn into monkeys?’ The honest man replied, ‘It must be because you have so little merit and thus your karma was unfavourable; after all, isn’t that why the gold we found turned into coals? How could that have happened if not for our unfavourable karma? And now you see that for the same reason your sons have turned into monkeys.’ The deceitful man thought to himself, ‘He has figured out what I have done. If I raise a hue and cry the king will arrest me as a thief, but how else am I to get my sons back?’ And so he decided to confess everything that he had done. He gave his friend his rightful share of the treasure that he had stolen, and his friend returned to him his two sons.
(from the Avacūri to the Nandīsutta, p.111)
17
MOHADATTA
The monk Dharmanandana said to King Purandaradatta and all the others who were present,
‘Delusion is deadly. If discrimination were a lotus, with fame as its fragrance, then delusion is the killing frost that makes it wither away and die.
‘O King! The Jains say that worldly existence is nothing but suffering. Those who are afflicted by delusion do not understand its real nature.
‘Of immeasurable merit is the person who is not carried off by the horse of delusion and keeps to the straight path; he is an ornament on this earth.
‘King Delusion conquers everyone in the three worlds, heaven, earth and the netherworld, except for the Jain monks, who keep to their strict vows.
‘Delusion is like a deep ocean; just as long bamboo poles cannot fathom the depths of the ocean, so even men of good families cannot get to the bottom of delusion.
‘A man whose mind is overcome by the delusion of lust cannot distinguish between a woman he can have and a woman he should never touch. Such a man even goes after his own sister. He kills his father, O King, just like this person right here!’ The king asked, ‘Master! This assembly is full of people. Which person do you mean?’ The monk understood and replied, ‘I mean the one who sits somewhat apart from you, to the right of the minister Vāsava. He is handsome enough, but he sits there like a post; like a statue of clay, he is devoid of the ability to discriminate between right and wrong. Just listen to what that person did, his mind overcome by great delusion.
‘There is a country named Kośala, which is charming with its many villages, all inhabited by prosperous and happy people. There in that country is the city called Kośalā, invincible in the face of attack by enemy kings. Its splendid mansions shine white from the light of the moon-like faces of the alluring women in them.
‘The temples there seemed to be trying to wipe the stain off the face of the moon with their flags, which were tossed about by gentle winds that wafted over the river of heaven.
‘The women in that city outdid the Goddess of Fortune a hundredfold in all their qualities that made them so attractive to their men.
‘There the heavenly Ganges with its three streams seemed to flow in a hundred streams, its waters scattered by the white flags on the lofty temples, waving in the breezes.
‘King Kośala, a jewel among warriors, ruled there. He was extremely pure in mind and wise, skilled in dealing with his enemies.
‘The dust that his armies raised as they went forth covered the sun and hid its light; even the Lord of the Snakes with his many tongues could not succeed in describing his many valorous deeds.
‘The light of the sun was obscured by the dust that was raised by the hooves of the horses in his cavalry. Rivers made of the copious juice that oozed from the temples of his elephants in rut flowed on every path; the echoes of the snorting sounds made by his elephants were like the thunder of clouds. As this king set forth with his army, the trumpeting of his elephants caused enemy kings to flee.
‘As he marched out with his army, the enemy kings were deafened by the r
oaring and snorting of his elephants that echoed throughout their fortresses; they were blinded by the dust that was stirred up. Even the Lord of the Snakes with his thousand tongues could not praise all of that king’s valorous exploits.
‘That lord of the earth had a son, who was like Jayanta, the son of Indra, king of the gods, except that he lived on this earth and was of noble human parentage; he was mighty like the king of beasts, though he did not fight with claws, nor did he even need to use fierce weapons; he was like the sun, which gives light to others, but unlike the sun, his light, which streamed from his fame and glory, was gentle and not harsh; he was like the moon, bringing joy to everyone, but unlike the moon which has a mark on its surface, he was without blemish of sin. This son was named Tosala and he was the foremost of the famous and worthy.
‘One day as this Tosala, distinguished by all of the virtues just named, was sauntering about his own city, it so happened that he caught a glimpse of the pretty face of some young woman peering out of the lovely jalousied window of her palace, like the moon peeping out from behind a curtain of clouds, though this face, with its two long eyes like lotus leaves, was without any blemish. This young girl was the daughter of one of the prominent merchants of the city. And she saw him, too, handsome as the God of Love, and at once her mind was adrift in an ocean of the most intense passion and desire. As he looked at her, his mind was shot through with arrows by the God of Love, who, though he carries only five arrows, as if angry at the young man’s desire for another person’s wife, used those five arrows to pierce his mind a hundred times, so that it had as many holes in it as a sieve. Overcome by the suffering that the cruel blows from the God of Love were causing him, the young man touched his chest with his right hand and raised the forefinger of his left hand to just near the region of his navel. The young woman, staring at him, made the shape of a sword with her right hand. Seeing this gesture that she had made, the prince set out for home, thinking to himself:
The Forest of Thieves and the Magic Garden: An Anthology of Medieval Jain Stories (Penguin Classics) Page 15