by Sarah Shaw
These might seem harsh judgements of what is depicted as a sanctuary, but the charmed forest also provides the means whereby the threats are overcome. The local goddess, Bahusodari, the dea ex machina, sees the situation and comes to the family’s aid, knowing that their intervention could save the son from death. But is Sama really ‘dead’? Both the narrative and the verses of the Bodhisatta hint that he has been keeping himself barely alive after attack, through meditative practice (vv. 396–7). To the king it looks like death, because Sama has no in or out breath or outward sign of consciousness. These are also, however, features of some higher meditative states. 5Careful rules guard entry in these states that are described by the great commentator on meditation, Buddhaghosa. 6 In two verses Sama explains after his revival ‘the nature of non-dying’: that just because the usual mental activity has stopped does not mean a being is not alive; it is possible that even when the breathing has stopped, a person can have entered the state of cessation, a state usually associated with enlightened beings. 7His response to the attack seems to have been to enter a meditation where he seemed ‘dead’ to the world.
As a rule, Jatakas tend to be literal and less highly coloured than Indian myths, in that wonderful occurrences, even those involving gods and the supernatural, are all explained in terms that accord with Buddhist cosmological theory and the doctrine of kamma. The king of Kasi goes straight to a hell from this life through the force of his actions, for instance. * In a similar incident to Sama’s ‘death’ in another Jataka, the poison has not yet killed the Bodhisatta and is dispelled. 8 No other story has a being completely revived from the dead. This Jataka gives a happy ending—but still provides a thoroughly Buddhist explanation for it all. Nonetheless, the Bodhisatta needs the simple statement of truths from his parents and the intervention of the local goddess to awaken. The goddess, like the parents, declares the truth of her love for him and makes a simple statement of truth. The sense of smell, which had instigated the blinding of the parents, is again invoked, by her declaration that all the trees around have their own perfume. This simple acknowledgement of the senses and the external circumstances of the wood end the long dark night of Sama’s ‘death’. In one moment of breaking dawn, Sama is restored to consciousness, a teacher and an adult. His parents are freed from the blindness that has prevented them from standing as beings capable of looking after themselves. The king, now willing to acknowledge his confusion, is able to learn from the Bodhisatta, whose virtues he has at last come to recognize, and returns to act as monarch in his own kingdom. The whole episode communicates the sense of waking from a bad dream, or a spell: by bearing witness to the separate identity of each tree the local goddess has ensured that each human is mindful of where he stands, his place in the forest and his own identity too.
An important figure in the drama is the hunter king, who introduces into the story the gravitational weight of the outside world and a life governed entirely by greed, hatred and delusion. He casually destroys the peace of the renunciates’ lives, at all times boorishly repeating the leitmotiv that boasts his fame and skill (vv. 5, 26, 45 and 60). In striking contrast to Sama, he has neglected his kingdom and left it with his mother. On his own admission he has been overcome with simple greed (lobha), described by Buddhaghosa as a ‘near enemy’ to loving kindness, and cannot recognize the Bodhisatta for what he is. 9 Even when abashed at his crime he blunders his way into the hermitage, to announce himself to the parents with his usual absence of tact. He is not shown just as a villain: he is genuinely grieved by his actions and solicitous of the parents’ welfare. He does, however, embody human nature at its most self-centred and, it has to be said, amusing. Through the events of the story, Sama and his parents have to become reconciled to him and his coarse perception of events around him. He is also tamed by them. Bewildered by Sama’s revival, the parents’ goodwill even in adversity and the qualities he has found in the enchanted woods he finally takes refuge in the Bodhisatta, his guide and teacher. He returns to fulfil his duty in the lay life, as a just king, while the Bodhisatta returns to fulfil his. So through the power of the loving kindness of the others, even this comic buffoon practises generosity and becomes destined for a heaven realm.
The story lacks the obvious linguistic stature of some of the verse portions of other Jatakas, though the apparently endless refrain of the long night chorus of Sama’s ‘death’ would be particularly effective in a chanted recitation: the text was not intended to be read to oneself. The depiction of the situation in the wood is exquisite in its evocation of the beauties of the practice of loving kindness. It also shows the way that even this redemptive quality has its own pitfalls if pursued to the neglect of awareness. But the ‘enemies’ of this perfection, within and without, are overcome when it is linked to the acknowledgement of truth, the awareness which allows all the protagonists to fulfil their appropriate duties as free agents. As a vindication of the importance of the simple qualities of tenderness and care for one’s own family the tale makes a suitable conclusion to this anthology. The frame story, from the present, describes the Buddha’s approval of a monk’s apparent neglect of his rules in looking after his own parents, an example of the practical approach to individual cases the Buddha exhibits throughout his teaching career. That it is good to care for parents is undoubtedly the story’s message, but its subtlety of construction suggest the need for alertness and flexibility in all situations. All those in the tale have to learn to use loving kindness well.
The story is shown in Cave 17 at Ajanta and on a relief at Sanchi. The favourite depiction in temple art of this story shows Sama, surrounded by deer, as he is hit by the king’s arrow. 10 This scene is painted at Wat Yai Intharam and Wat Bang Yikhan in Thailand. The story features in Gandharan art. 11
Story from the present
‘Who has struck me with an arrow?‘
While staying at the Jetavana Grove the Teacher told this story about a certain brahmin who supported his mother. It is said that at Savatthi there was a certain merchant who was worth eighteen crores. He had one son, who was dear and loving to his parents. One day this son went up to the roof of the palace and opened a window from the top of the palace. Looking out on to the street he saw a crowd of people with perfumes and garlands in their hands going to Jetavana to listen to dhamma. [69] He thought he would go too, had some perfumes and garlands collected and went to the monastery. He saw that clothes, medicines and drinks were given to the monks, paid homage to the Exalted One with perfumes and garlands and sat down to one side. He listened to the teaching, heard about the danger of the sense desires and the blessings arising from a holy life. When the assembly rose he asked the Exalted One for ordination. The reply was that the Thus-gones do not ordain those without parental permission. So he went away, living for seven days without food, got his parents to grant their approval and then asked for ordination. The Teacher sent a monk who ordained him. When he had taken the ordination he practised with great achievement and honour. He pleased his preceptors and teachers and five years after his full ordination had learnt the teaching thoroughly. Then he thought, ‘I am distracted living here. It is not suitable for me.’ Wishing to fulfil the responsibility of insight 12 he obtained a meditation object from a teacher in a hermitage and went to a certain outlying town and lived in the forest. There he set up a course of insight and worked hard for twelve years, making an effort, but could not attain any distinction.
As time went by his mother and father also became poor: those that hired land or engaged in trade with them thought, ‘In this family there is no son or brother, who will demand payment of a debt and seize it.’ So they took anything they could lay their hands on and fled. The household servants and workers grabbed the gold and the silver and suchlike and also fled. In the course of time the two were destitute and did not even have a jug to pour out water. In the end they sold their house and became homeless. In a state of wretchedness they begged for support, dressed in rags, with an alms bowl in their hand
s.
Now at that time a certain monk left the Jetavana Grove and went to stay at the monk’s dwelling place. The son performed his hospitable duties and, as he sat comfortably, asked the monk where he was from. The monk replied that he was from Jetavana. He asked after the health of the Teacher and his disciples and then asked for news of his parents. ‘Tell me, bhante, about the health of such and such a merchant’s family in Savatthi.’ ‘Sir, do not ask for news about that family,’ the monk replied. ‘Why, bhante?’ he asked. ‘They say that there was a son in the family, but he became a monk in this time of teaching. Since the time of his ordination the family has been badly reduced and now the two parents beg for alms in a state of destitution.’ When he heard the description from him the son was unable to keep his composure. He began to weep, with his eyes full of tears. ‘Why do you grieve, sir?’ the other monk said. ‘These are my parents, bhante, and I am their son!’ ‘Sir, your mother and father have come to ruin because of you. Go and look after them.’ The son thought, ‘I have struggled for twelve years putting in effort, and have not been able to attain the path and fruit. [70] I am useless. What is ordination to me? I’ll become a layman and care for my parents. I’ll practise generosity and be one bound for heaven.’ So when he had reflected, he handed over his forest dwelling to the elder and left on the next day. By stages he reached the monastery behind Jetavana near to Savatthi. There were two paths: one to Jetavana and one to Savatthi. He stood there and thought, ‘Shall I go and see my parents first, or the Ten-Powered One? I saw my mother and father for a long time once but from now on it will be difficult to get a sight of the Buddha. So today I’ll see the Fully Awakened One and hear his teaching and then tomorrow I’ll go and see my parents.’ Leaving the road to Savatthi he arrived at Jetavana in the evening.
On that very day, at dawn, the Teacher, looking out at the world, had seen the strong predisposition of the monk. 13 When the son arrived the Teacher extolled the praise of parents in the Matiposaka Sutta. 14 When the son heard this dhamma talk, standing in the assembly of monks, he thought, ‘As a layman I can support my parents. But the Teacher says a son who is an ascetic can be a support too. I went away before without seeing the Teacher and I was deficient in such an ordination. I will maintain my parents, without becoming a layman, while still being an ascetic.’ He took his wooden ticket, 15his ticket food and his rice gruel and felt as if for twelve years he had been committing a grave offence against the rules for monks. 16 In the morning he went to Savatthi and wondered if he should collect rice gruel first of all, or go and see his parents. He thought it would not be right to visit them in their wretched state empty-handed, so he collected some rice-water gruel and went to the door of their former house. After he had gone in search of gruel he approached the wall and saw his mother and father sitting down. Grief welled up in him and with tears streaming from his eyes he stood near them. They saw him and did not recognize him. His mother thought that he must be standing there to collect alms and said, ‘Bhante, there is nothing here that is fit to give you. Please go on.’ He heard her words and, catching the grief which filled his heart, stood right there with tears streaming from his eyes. Even when he was addressed a second and a third time he still stood there. Then the father said to the mother, ‘Go, can this be your son?’ She got up, went to him and recognizing him, fell at his feet and wept, and his father did so too, and there was a great outpouring of sorrow. When he saw his parents he could not hold his composure and burst into tears. After he had given vent to his grief he said, ‘Do not worry, I will look after you.’ [71] When he had comforted his parents he gave them rice gruel and got them to sit to one side. Then he went on an alms round for more food and gave it to them, and then went to get alms for himself. When he had finished his meal he made a dwelling for himself to one side. From that time he supported his parents by this method. The almsfood he had obtained for himself, even on half-moon days and suchlike, he gave to them. Then he went for alms for himself and ate what he had obtained. Whatever food he received for the rainy season he gave to them, and ate his own. He took old cloth strips that had been used by them and then dyed them and used them himself. Days when he received alms were few and days when he received none were frequent. His inner and outer clothing became very rough.
As he looked after his parents, in time he became very thin and pale. His friends and companions asked him, ‘Sir, your bodily complexion used to shine before and now you are thin and pale. Has some sickness come to you?’ ‘Sir,’ he replied, ‘there is no sickness in me but there is an obstruction for me.’ And he told them what had happened. ‘Sir, the Teacher does not allow us to waste what is offered by those with faith. It is not right for you to give to laymen what is offered by those with faith.’ When he heard what they said he shrank back, ashamed. They were not content with this and informed the Teacher what he was doing. He called for the son of the family and asked him, ‘Is it true what they say, that you are looking after laymen?’ He said it was. The Teacher, wishing to praise his good action and to tell a story about his own practice in the past asked him, ‘And what laymen are you supporting, bhikkhu?’ ‘My parents, bhante.’ The Teacher, wishing to encourage him further, said, ‘Very good, very good!’ He said this three times. ‘You are on a path that I was on. In times past I used to beg for alms and support my parents,’ he said. At the monks’ request, he gave this explanation of the matter to them.
Story from the past
Once upon a time, not far from Varanasi, on the near bank of the river, was a village of hunters and on the far side there was another village. Five hundred families dwelt in each. The two hunter chiefs who lived in the two villages were firm friends. When they were young they made an agreement: ‘If we have a daughter and a son, let a marriage be arranged between them.’ Then [72] a son was born to the chief who lived in the near-bank village. The boy was called Dukulaka, one who wears fine cloth, because he was lifted with a fine cloth at the moment of birth. 17 In the other house a daughter was born, and they gave her the name Parika, the girl of the far shore. Both were good-looking and of golden complexion. Although they were born in hunter families, they did not take life.
In the course of time, when the boy Dukulaka was sixteen, his parents said, ‘Son, let us bring you a wife.’ But as he had just come down from a Brahma world the pure being shut both his ears. ‘I do not want to live in a household. Do not speak of such a thing.’ Though they spoke of it three times, he did not want it. The girl Parika was addressed by her parents, ‘Dear one, our good friend has a son who is good-looking, with a golden complexion, we’ll give you to him.’ She shut her ears as she had come down from a Brahma world too. Dukulaka sent her a message in secret. ‘Go and live in the house of another, if you want a sexual relationship. I do not have any desire for sex.’ She sent just the same message to him. But despite their unwillingness their parents arranged the marriage. As they had both crossed over the ocean of sexual passion they lived apart, like two great Brahmas. Dukulaka did not kill fish or deer and did not even sell animal flesh that was brought to him. And then his mother and father said, ‘Son, you have come to a hunter family but you do not wish to live in a house or to kill living beings. What will you do?’ ‘My dear parents, with your approval I’ll become an ascetic this very day.’ ‘Go on then,’ they said and let both of them go.
They saluted his parents and left entering the Himalayan region along the banks of the Ganga, at the place where the river Migasammata flows down from the Himalayas. Then they left the Ganga and climbed up in the direction of the Migasammata. At that moment, Sakka’s dwelling appeared hot. Sakka realized the reason and spoke to Vissakamma. ‘Dear Vissakamma, two great individuals have left and entered the Himalayan region. There ought to be a dwelling place for them. Go and see that a leaf hut [73] and the necessaries for an ascetic life are created for each of them about half a mile from the river Migasammata.’ 18 He said, ‘very well’, and he made everything ready in the same way as described in t
he Mugapakkha Jataka (538). He drove away the creatures that made unpleasant noises, created a single-track footpath and went back to his own abode. They saw the path and followed it towards the hermitage. Wise Dukulaka entered the leaf hut and saw all the necessities for an ascetic life. ‘These are gifts to us from Sakka,’ he said, seeing they were like things given by him. He took off his outer clothes, put on a robe of red bark, threw a black antelope hide over his shoulder and tied his hair into a bun: he put on the dress of a sage. Then he gave the ordination to Parika too, and they both cultivated loving kindness to all the beings of the sense sphere that lived around. Through the power of their loving kindness all the beasts and birds entertained a mind of loving kindness towards one another and no creature harmed another. 19 Parika brought food and water, swept the hermitage and did all the housework. Both collected various kinds of fruit and ate them. Then they each entered the hut on their own and lived performing the duties of an ascetic life. Sakka came and looked after them. One day he looked and saw that they would lose their sight. Perceiving the danger he approached wise Dukulaka, greeted him and sat down to one side. He said, ‘Bhante, a danger is on the cards for you. You ought to have a son to care for you. Follow the way of the world.’ ‘Sakka, what are you saying? Even when we were in the midst of household life we gave up the way of the world disgusted, as if at a heap of worm-infested dung. How can we start on such a course now that we have entered the forest and have taken up the life of a sage?’ ‘Oh well, bhante, if not, then at the right time you should touch the ascetic Parika’s navel with your hand.’ Dukulaka agreed and said this could be done. 20 Sakka took his farewell and went to his own abode. Dukulaka explained the matter to Parika and touched her navel with his hand.