The Forest of Thieves and the Magic Garden: An Anthology of Medieval Jain Stories (Penguin Classics)

by Phyllis Granoff

  ‘“Moreover:

  ‘“When this charming lady takes hold of a man’s mind, that fortunate man becomes just like her.

  ‘“And so what man who hears these words and yearns for virtue would not give his heart to this woman, who can give him all that he desires?

  ‘“Now since this is the case, this woman, who is lovely in every way, possessed as she is of the highest virtues, stands diametrically opposed to Vaiśvānara.

  ‘“I believe that Vaiśvānara would flee in abject terror at the mere sight of her.

  ‘“He is the sum total of all vice and that woman is the abode of all virtue; that wicked man is fire incarnate; she is cool like snow.

  ‘“The two could never exist in the same place, for they are polar opposites and that is why I say:

  ‘“If the prince were to marry this woman, he would give up his association with his wicked friend.”

  ‘At this point Vidura thought, “Basically, this is what Jinamatajña, who can read omens, is saying: from Fortitude united with Auspicious Leanings in the state of Perfection of the Mind is born Forbearance. She alone is capable of putting an end to Prince Nandivardhana’s harmful association with his evil friend Vaiśvānara there is no other way to put an end to their friendship. Everything Jinamatajña has said is correct. But what is surprising in that? No one who knows the doctrine of the Jina, no one who is a Jinamatajña would ever say anything that is not true.”

  ‘Now when my father heard what the sage had said, he glanced over at his minister Matidhana, “Rich in Wisdom”, who was right next to him, waiting for his order. My father said, “Noble Matidhana, did you hear what he said?” Matidhana replied, “My lord, I heard.” My father said, “In that case you will understand why I am so concerned that all of the prince’s virtues, though they might well be the envy of many a gentleman, have been reduced to naught, sullied by his association with a bad friend. You must go at once and dispatch our most noble courtiers, skilled in words, to Perfection of the Mind. Let them take with them gifts, such things as cannot be found there, and instruct them to speak with clever and flattering words so as to bring about this marriage without delay. They are to ask Auspicious Leanings for the hand of his daughter Forbearance on behalf of the prince.” Matidhana replied, “As my lord commands.” And with those words he proceeded to leave. Jinamatajña said, “Great king! This is not necessary. The city cannot be reached in this way.” My father asked, “Noble One, explain that to me.” Jinamatajña said, “Great King! In this world there are two kinds of everything, of cities, kings, wives, sons, friends, of everything. What I mean is that there are internal and external objects. It is only with respect to the external objects that the actions of people like you, for example going, informing, and so on, can apply. These actions have no relevance to internal objects. Now this city, the king, his wife and their daughter, are all internal objects. It is useless to send your counsellors there.” My father asked, “Noble one, in that case, who has power there?” Jinamatajña said, “The one who is the inner king.” My father then asked, “And who is that?” Jinamatajña replied, “Great king! The king there is Ripening of Karma. In fact it is Ripening of Karma that gave the city to Auspicious Leanings as his fiefdom. That is why Auspicious Leanings is dependent on Ripening of Karma.

  ‘My father asked, “Noble One, is Ripening of Karma amenable to a petition from the likes of me?” Jinamatajña answered, “O King, he is not. He does what he wishes and does not wait for a petition from another person. He is not swayed by words of flattery. He is not won over by another’s pleas; he does not even feel pity when he sees a person in distress. When he acts the only ones he consults or considers are these: the sister of his minister, who is named Lokasthiti, “The Arrangement of the World”; his wife Kālaparinati, “Force of Time” and his courtier, Svabhāva, “Inherent Nature”. He does listen to Prince Nandivardhana’s secret wife Fate, who has been with him throughout all of his many births. What would he have to fear from Nandivardhana’s own prowess as he goes about doing what he must do? This is how the great king Ripening of Karma carries out his affairs; he shows his deference only to counsellors like these that also belong to the inner realm; he pays no attention to anyone from the exterior world, no matter how they may shout and scream. He does exactly what he wants. That is why I told you that you should not bother to plead your cause with him. When he decides to, he will cause Auspicious Leanings to give his daughter Forbearance to the prince.”

  ‘My father then said, “In that case, Noble One, I am dead. For I cannot be sure that he will do that. And so long as that wicked friend remains by the side of the prince, the prince is worthless, and my life too is of no use.” Jinamatajña replied, ‘Great King! Do not despair. What can anyone do in a case like this? For it is said:

  A man who fails to act properly when there is something that his actions can actually accomplish becomes the object of censure. But when there is nothing that his actions can accomplish a person is not blamed for not acting. Moreover, a person who sets out to do something impossible, without any consideration for what can and cannot be done, becomes ludicrous in his own eyes and in the eyes of others in the know. Since this is the case, you should stop worrying and abandon yourself to Fate.

  ‘I can tell you something more to help you find peace of mind. Men like you should never feel despondent and without help in this world.”

  ‘My father said, “Noble One, you have spoken well. I am comforted by these last words that you have spoken. Now tell me what that other advice is that will help me find peace of mind.” Jinamatajña said, ‘Great King! The prince has a secret friend called Punyodaya, “Rise of Merit”. As long as Rise of Merit is with the prince, then whatever trouble Vaiśvānara may cause the prince by being the kind of evil friend that leads him astray, will actually turn out to be for the prince’s good.” When he heard this my father was somewhat reassured.

  ‘In the meantime the sound of a conch could be heard along with the beating of the drum that marked the time, signalling that the sun had reached the midpoint of the sky. The bard whose duty it was to announce the time recited this verse:

  The sun has reached the middle of the heavens, as if to proclaim to all and sundry this truth: one becomes greater in splendour not through partisan anger, but by assuming a position in the middle.

  ‘My father said, “My goodness. It is noon already.’ Thinking that it was time for him to break up the gathering, he dismissed the members of the court. He honored the teacher of the arts and the monk who could read the omens and dismissed them both with a show of great respect. A parents love for a child is the cause of great mental confusion; that is why my father summoned Vidura, although he knew well from what the monk had told him that there was nothing that could be done for me. My father said to Vidura, “You must see what the prince really feels. See if you think that he can be separated from his evil friend or not.” Vidura said, “As my lord commands.” At that my father got up to go. He performed all the duties that were required of him.

  ‘The very next day Vidura came to see me. He bowed down to me and then sat down near me. I asked him, “Sir, why did you not come yesterday?” Vidura thought to himself, “The king has instructed me, “See what the prince feels”. I think I will tell him a story that I heard from some monks that illustrates all that is wrong with associating with bad people. From his reaction I will be able to know what is in the prince’s mind.”

  Embedded in the longer story that Vidura told was this Tale of the Couple, related by the lady Ordinary to her son Average

  ‘There is a city named Tathāvidha, “Just So”. King Rrju, “The Straight”, reigned there. His chief queen was named Pragunā, “Upright”. They had a son Mugdha, “Naīve”, who was as handsome as the God of Love. He had a wife, who was like Rati, the wife of the God of Love; her name was

  Akutilā, “Not Tricky’. Mugdha and Akutilā, deeply in love, passed their time enjoying the pleasures of the senses. One spring morning
Prince Mugdha rose early. From his room on the top storey of his palace he could see the palace garden with its rows of flowering trees, all laden with different kinds of beautiful blossoms. He suddenly felt like going out and amusing himself in the garden, and so he said to his wife, “Queen! The garden looks extremely beautiful and alluring today. Get up. Let’s go to the garden and pick flowers. We can bring some of that beauty back here.” And so they took golden baskets studded with jewels and went to the palace garden. They began to gather flowers. Mugdha said, “Let’s have a contest and see who can fill their gold basket first. You go in one direction and I will go in another.” Akutilā agreed. The two of them went off to gather flowers in different groves of trees and were soon out of each other’s range of sight. Now it just so happened that a demi-god couple also came to the garden; this was “Kālajña, Knower of what to do at the right moment”, and his wife Vicakṣaṇā, “Clever”. As they were flying in the sky they saw the human couple. Now because the workings of karma are impossible to fathom; because the human couple was so handsome; because Love makes a person act rashly; because the season of spring inflames the passions; because the garden was so alluring; because demi-gods like to have fun; because the sense organs are extremely flighty; because the desire for pleasures of the senses is difficult to restrain; because the mind is wild and unsteady; and simply because Fate had determined that this was to be, for all these various reasons, Kālajña fell madly in love with Akutilā and Vicakṣaṇā fell madly in love with Mugdha. Kālajña thought that he could trick her and so he said to Vicakṣaṇā, ‘My lady, you go on ahead. I will just gather some flowers here in this garden of the city of Rājagṛha for us to use in our worship.’ But Vicakṣaṇā didn’t budge; she stayed right where she was, not making a sound, for her heart had been stolen by Mugdha. Kālajña went to where Akutilā was gathering flowers and descended from the sky. Vicakṣaṇā could no longer see him. He thought to himself, “Hm. I wonder why this couple are so far apart from each other.’ He used his supernatural knowledge and came to know the reason why they were not together. Thinking, “This is a good stratagem,” he used his divine powers to turn himself into a magical duplicate of Mugdha. He made himself a gold basket and even filled it with flowers. He walked over to Akutilā and excitedly told her, “My beloved, I beat you. I beat you.” For a minute Akutilā was upset at having been defeated in the contest; she thought to herself, “How is it that my husband has just popped up like this?” Kālajña said, “Beloved, do not be unhappy at such a small thing. But now our flower gathering is finished. Let’s go over to that plantain bower, which is truly an ornament to enhance the beauty of this garden.” She agreed. They went to the bower and made themselves a bed of flower petals.

  In the meantime Vicakṣaṇā thought to herself, ‘Kālajña is gone. Before he comes back and while this lady is still somewhere off in the distance, let me descend from the sky and honour that young man, who looks like the God of Love, though now he is without his beloved wife Rati. I shall reap the pleasures of being alive.’ She too used her supernatural knowledge and came to understand why the couple was not together. She turned herself into Akutilā’s look-alike and made herself a gold basket filled with flowers and went over to Mugdha. She said, ‘Noble One, I have beaten you. I have won!’ Startled, Mugdha looked at her and said, ‘Beloved! I accept my defeat. What shall we do now?’ Vicakṣaṇā said, ‘Whatever I say.’ Mugdha said, ‘And what might that be?’ Vicakṣaṇā said, ‘Let us go to the bower of creepers and enjoy from there the splendour of this excellent garden.’ He agreed. And so Mugdha and Vicakṣaṇā went to the very same plantain bower where Akutilā and Kālajña were. They saw the two of them. Both couples looked at each other in astonishment. They could not see a speck of difference between each other. Mugdha thought, ‘I have become two through the grace showered on me by the Blessed Goddesses of the Forest. My wife has become doubled, too. This is a great cause for rejoicing. I must tell my father. I will tell the others what I think and then we can all go together to see my father.’ Mugdha told them, ‘Let’s go.’ and so all four of them went together to the assembly of King Rju.

  The king and queen and all the members of the court were astonished when they saw the four of them. The king asked Mugdha, ‘What is all this?’ He replied, ‘It is the grace of the Goddesses of the Forest.’ Rju said, ‘What do you mean?’ And so Mugdha told him all that had happened. Rju thought to himself, ‘How lucky I am. See how the gods look on me with favour!’ In his great joy he declared that a festival, though out of season, be celebrated in the city. He ordered great gifts to be distributed and commanded that the city gods be worshipped. In the midst of his court the king then proclaimed:

  ‘From one son I now have two and from one daughter-in-law I now have two. O good men, eat and drink your fill, sing and play music and dance!’

  Even Queen Pragunā, obeying these words of the king, had drums beat so that everywhere you turned you were deafened by their joyous sounds. She began to dance with her arms raised high. Akutilā was delighted, as she thought, ‘I have become two.’ All of the women of the harem danced. The city was joyful. With much crush and commotion the great festivities began.

  Kālajña, who loved to have fun, was delighted. But he did wonder, ‘Who is this second woman?’ He used his supernatural knowledge. He realized, ‘Oh no, it can’t be, it is my own wife Vicakṣaṇā!’ Then he got mad. He thought, ‘I’ll kill that evil man. She is immortal, so I can’t kill her too. But I will make her so miserable that she will never go near another man again.’ When he had made up his mind that this is what he would do, his Fate ordained it to be otherwise. Fate made him think, ‘That was wrong of me. I must not torment Vicakṣaṇā. After all, I was no better. I did exactly the same wrong deed that she did. And I should not kill Mugdha. If I do kill him, then Akutilā will find out and she won’t want anything to do with me; Vicakṣaṇā will be even more disgusted with me. Maybe I should just grab Akutilā and before anyone sees me make off with my own wife, I should just get out of here. That’s not a good idea either. If I dash away like that Akutilā is sure to realize that something is wrong and that might make her stop wanting me. There’s no point in my going without her. I guess I just have to give up this jealousy and bide my time and see what happens.’

  Vicakṣaṇā thought, ‘My goodness! That’s my husband Kālajña, who now looks like this other one. How could it be anyone else?’ She became ashamed of herself, thinking, ‘How can I be with another man when my husband is right here?’ She also became jealous at the thought that her husband had another woman. Her feelings of propriety made it difficult to stay, but she knew too that she could accomplish nothing by going; she found no pleasure in staying there and yet did not see that she had any real choice. And so she too bowed to Fate and stayed there, biding her time, waiting to see what would happen.

  One day a monk named Prabodhaka, “The Awakener’, possessed of countless jewels in the form of special knowledge and the like, surrounded by a host of his disciples, stopped in the garden Mohavilaya, “Abode of Delusion’. The gardener informed the king of the monk’s arrival. The king and all the townspeople went out to pay their respects to the monk. The gods had made a golden lotus for the monk. The king saw the monk sitting there, expounding the Jain doctrine. The king bowed down at the monk’s feet, his crown touching the earth. He then bowed down to all the other monks. The chief monk and the other monks all welcomed the king with words of blessing that were like a sharp axe capable of striking down the forest of trees that were karma. The king sat down on the ground. Kālajña and the others also bowed down respectfully to the monks and then sat down in their proper places.

  The monk began to expound the doctrine. He showed them the worthlessness of worldly existence; he described to them the causes of binding karma; he spoke harshly about the prison house of transmigratory existence; he praised the path of Release; he told them of the possibility of great happiness and peace; he told the
m that desire for the objects of the senses was the cause of wandering from birth to birth, and that it was a stubborn obstacle to happiness and peace.

  When Kālajña and Vicakṣaṇā heard the words of the Blessed One that were like the divine drink of immortality, the net of delusion that had entrapped them was torn asunder; right faith was born in them; the fire of remorse at their wrongdoings blazed up in them, capable of burning up the fuel of their karma. At that moment there emerged from both of their bodies a hideous woman, whose own body was made up of red and black atoms; she was horrifying to behold; her very form was a cause of terror to those who know right from wrong, truth from falsehood. She was unable to endure the power of that Blessed monk. She emerged from them and stood far away from them all, her back to the group.

  Vicakṣaṇā and Kālajña wept; it was as if their hearts had melted in the fire of their great remorse, and they fell at the feet of the Blessed One. Kālajña said, ‘Blessed One! I am the lowest of the low. I deceived my own wife and slept with the wife of another man. I conceived terrible hatred for the innocent Mugdha. I made the king and his queen wrongly believe that they had another son. I also cheated myself by keeping myself from the true religious doctrine. Having been so evil, how can I now cleanse myself of all these sins?’ Vicakṣaṇā then said, ‘And how can I? For I was also very wicked and I did everything that he has done. But what need is there for me to confess before you; you have supernatural knowledge and can see everything right before your very own eyes.’