The penitent bowed deeply before the holy Maharajah.
‘My Khallataka, ever since the fire, we wish to keep the jungle, as far as we can, at a distance from Pataliputra because of the danger of fire. Well, we shall reshape a widened area south of the capital into a nursery for medicinal herbs and plants, which will be always available for the entire empire, when others refuse help.’
The guests withdrew to the reception hall where Ashoka offered them the most precious gifts especially wrought by goldsmiths, ivory-carvers or workers on precious stones. A special hall was arranged for the priests. They accepted the offered valuables as a favour, done by them to the Maharajah. The spectators in the park rushed home to pick flowers and all gathered along the great Emperor’s Road, where the procession with the Maharajah would pass by. Garlands of jasmine, rajanigandhas,4 and marigold flowers connected the poles that had been fixed and which were decorated with the most colourful orchids and huge flowering creepers.
Seated in the golden howdah on the back of the elephant Jampa, Ashoka and Asandhimitra, surrounded by Sela and his horsemen, then drew near. They were followed by the women of the anthapura, Princes and Princesses, and after them, the richly dressed guests from the empire, from Gandarva to Anga, from Nepal to Dakshina5, seated on elephants, camels, horses, all just as richly dressed. Many priests joined, seated on the elephants from the imperial camps. Sandalwood powder was strewn abundantly, rose water from Iran sprayed on the roads. When Jampa with the royal couple passed by, thousands bowed reverently. A sea of flowers thrown everywhere on the road or poured down from galleries and windows, offered their radiant and fragrant joy to the sacred Maharajah.
‘Is my Lord gratified by so much joy?’
‘This joy would have been shown to any Maharajah. Sumana, too. I allowed the anointment to be done by Sayana and Khallataka but hundreds of sacrificial priests have come, with pride in their bearing and looks, to take before my people credit for the anointment, as an acknowledgement of their foolish delusion.’
‘Your deed is the truth, their pride the lie. The priests found the way to your might, but the peoples the way to your heart, my lord.’
By the side of the road there erupted a commotion. A woman from the lowest varna pushed herself, crying loudly, through the startled crowd, which gave way so as not to be contaminated. Two soldiers grabbed her. ‘Let go of me, I want to see the Maharajah! Let go of me! My son! You can beat me to death!’
Ashoka signalled for the procession to pause.
‘Bring the woman here.’
‘Sire, she is a Shudra.’ Ashoka did not respond.
‘What do you want, woman?’
The Shudra fell to her knees. ‘Holy Maharajah … let me be killed. My son will be executed and I wish to follow his sinful soul and watch over it. After his death, too! Lord, Sura had slipped into the park furtively yesterday evening to see the anointment. He was picked up in the garden of the Brahmin-court and now he will be executed. Lord, kill me, kill me! Let the elephants trample me, Lord! O, Holy Maharajah, he is a Shudra. And a Shudra is punished harshly!’
‘Take this woman to the gatekeeper and give her back her son. Tomorrow in the fourth kalakramein of the day, he will appear in the palace.’ The woman wanted to throw herself out of gratefulness onto the dust before the Maharajah, but in a twinkling of an eye she stood outside of the surprised crowd. Then she rushed to the gatekeeper.
‘Do you want to put him on trial tomorrow, my Lord?’ Asandhimitra asked.
‘No. He did not want to do any harm. I was informed about him. The Brahmins thought they could use him to show their care for me. Maybe … Revata was also a Shudra …’
*
Late in the afternoon four soldiers departed from the palace. The festivities for the people on the occasion of the consecration vibrated through the city and they wanted to participate in the shared joy. They ate the honey-cakes that were offered to the merrymakers, stayed in tents where strong drinks, made out of rice and sugar cane, were sold in agreement with the city government. They watched snake-charmers and magicians and finally arrived at a place where animal-fights were being organised. They witnessed how quails, rams and cocks fought and maimed each other till they bled, while the numerous spectators cursed, laughed or cried. There was a fight of wild buffaloes, too, goaded to fury by invectives and beating by the owners or slaves. The more violent the fighting, the more the excitement grew, and it burst out insanely when one of the animals charged into the other so that its body was ripped open; the scene generated screaming laughter. The four soldiers looked in more amazement at the raging crowd than at the furious animals. The wounded animal had sagged down to its knees and made attempts to lift itself up again, bellowing woefully all the while. The victor itself seemed confused and some servants chased it swiftly to an opened enclosure. The wounded animal looked around in despair. It was approached with sticks and whips; they beat it again and again to push it forward, but its terrible condition made it impossible for it to move. The excitement turned to laughter and mockery at the desperate attempts of man and beast. The buffalo looked around with childlike frightened eyes, helpless, and started bellowing, which sounded like a cry for mercy. More severe beatings battered its skin. One of the four soldiers jumped over the balustrade.
‘Away, you!’ The tormenters flew apart nervously because of the expression of his eyes. A chakra glimmered in the fading sunlight and flashed into the neck of the animal. A blood-fountain erupted. Then the beast sank down.
‘Bring the chakra here! Clean it!’ A jump and he was on the other side again. Silence … The four of them left the site. Only after two wild dogs had entered the arena did the voices return.
Acrobats, young and old, enjoyed the agility and prowess of the artists. Silently the four watched like the other spectators. There was so much certainty and precision in their movements that they hardly caused any excitement, until a young girl, Suryavarcassa6, barely an adult, dressed only in a short skirt and a light covering around her young firm breasts, climbed up a ladder at one of the two poles, between which an iron bar was fixed. She had the soft, luscious figure of a mixed Aryan race, the limbs well filled, a sweet serious face with soft curling hair and dark eyelashes. Her movements were gentle but sure. While she climbed, she aroused the mockery of some richly dressed young men, which caused laughter. It ceased when she put her foot carefully on the bar and walked over to the other side. Now she back-tracked, paused in the middle, lowered herself onto her haunches, rose up slowly again, gracefully balancing herself with her arms and hands. She came down the ladder, took a small girl on her back and climbed up again. Some folded their hands and prayed, shivering in rapture and support for the brave young girl.
‘What if they fall!’ the chakra-thrower called to the leader Bhadra.
‘No problem! I have more girls who can perform this act.’
Just then Suryavarcassa placed her foot on the bar and walked up and down the bar, seemingly calm. She did not squat down in the middle, but lifted, with utmost caution, the little child from her back onto her arm, while moving, as though she was gliding through the air, and then turned back on her dangerous walk, cheered by all.
When Suryavarcassa climbed the ladder again, Bhadra followed her, blindfolded her eyes and then wanted to bind her arms to her body. The fierce chakra-thrower jumped up. A second rider put his hand upon his arm.
‘You did not want to intervene, Sire!’ But furiously he cried to Bhadra: ‘I forbid this!’ Bhadra did not look up but went on unperturbed. Incensed, the chakra-thrower snatched up his weapon, and threw it with amazing precision at the rope that fixed the bar to the pole, so that it slipped off. Then a whistle-signal was heard. Some five soldiers shot forward.
‘Lead Bhadra immediately to the Maharajah. Come!’ The onlookers did not understand the connection. The four riders disappeared amongst the boisterous people, who were in great excitement. They cried, questioned, looked, yet no explanation could be found. A drunken
man smiled mawkishly: ‘Shiva. It is Shiva with the chakra!’ Of course! Shiva, the Lord of all life. Shiva with the chakra! The story spread through the town like a blazing jungle fire. Shiva, who even protected the artists without rights. Shiva, gracious me … the Maharajah!
‘Who allowed you to place Suryavarcassa in such mortal danger? You did not leave her with any means of avoiding danger.’
‘gracious Maharajah, she belongs to me and I have been permitted to give the show.’
‘You kill the girl to earn gold.’
‘She is a Chandala, Sire, so is without rights.’
‘You are an acrobat and so as much without rights! How many girls were killed at your shows?’
‘Only five, O, Maharajah.’
‘Only five! From this day on, no one in my empire will be without rights anymore. You will not dare again to risk the life of your servants. If, due to you, there will happen again one more accident, I will bring you to my hell, Bhadra!’
‘Yes, Sire.’
In a meeting the next day of viceroys, Rajas, rajukas and purushas, in the great Council Hall the Maharajah addressed them:
‘I wish you, governors of the departments of my empire, to know, no human being, neither Chandala nor Mleccha, will be without rights in the future. Each sentence by our judges should be based on justice, never on varna. Therefore, each death sentence needs your agreement. My envoys shall impart to you my views …
‘… At folk-festivals, for accidents occurring from performing dangerous arts, the leaders of the group will be punished …
‘… Animal fights will be restricted because they coarsen the people …
‘… The gains of land-fees and tax on buying and selling has to be brought into accordance with the norms as indicated in the Arthasastra. I want order, truth and honesty, in my empire. You and I have to set an example …
‘… It is not the size of your domain that will determine its importance and my benevolence, but the justice and righteousness of your governing.’
Early one morning, a group of priests proceeded to the reception hall of the Maharajah.
There, they met a palace guard who had weapons close at hand. None of the priests displayed his emotion or anger; silently and gloomily each took his place. At the appearance of Ashoka and Tishia, Srigupta strode forward, greeted in a brief ceremony the mighty Maharajah, and chanted the morning blessings.
‘I thank the gods who, through your voice, venerable Srigupta, brought me and thus my people, the best of promises for the new day. Hail, Shiva, that he may support life.’
‘Holy Maharajah, the Brahmin-court has wanted to restore a good and venerable tradition in the Maurya court: the morning-blessing7 of the priests. You receive us, the holy priests of Brahma, with an armed palace guard.’
‘The venerable Srigupta will appreciate that the Maharajah would rather not take up his chakra himself when his subjects wish to surprise him.’
‘It does not seem to be a surprise for the mighty Maharajah.’
‘No.’
‘Then you would know, too, that the Brahmin-court is seriously striving for a good relationship with the anointed Maharajah.’
‘But I could not know whether a Devaka, a Shakuni, a Lamba, a Hasta or one of the twenty-four, is hiding himself under a useful priestly dress.’
‘So, the holy Maharajah does not appreciate the priestly blessing!’
‘I will value and accept with pleasure your friendship, venerable Srigupta. But as far as some of your friends are concerned, I have to take some precautions, as you, who are since four years the chief of the secret council in the court, in the first place should understand. I hope that the holy priests of Brahma will accept a new cloak from me.’
The Maharajah felt it comforting that he now was declared holy by his people; the priests, meanwhile, boasted that he had received his consecration from their hands. There had come a balance, which brought a certain calm, time to reflect. Whoever amongst the priests had adapted himself to the power of the ‘Wild Prince’, felt the ambition to, at least, regain his old place. But inside the Maharajah burned the desire to continue his difficult, barely marked-out path. His restless thoughts worked their way towards an all-encompassing picture, which was continuously moulding itself in his mind, from which his every action already emanated. Many knew him, the way he often stood, contemplating on the Ganga … the image of eternity in its ever-flowing stream, of transition in its constant emptying of itself into the ocean, of eternal rejuvenation, by its source in the Himalayas. Sayana would say, the impelling life, the merging in the All-spirit, the eternal rejuvenating in the rebirth. Again and again, he discussed with Sayana what had motivated him and had to motivate him. Then he crossed the Ganga by ferry and went to the hermitage in the Areka-palm forest, where they, as in the earlier days, reflected upon their viewpoints about the peoples.
‘Only one will be—may be—able to find the way to the hearts of the peoples of India, to take away its greed and to purify it, Piyadasi. For a long time you have possessed the strength, now the power, and the love. You will have to walk that path in solitude.’
Or, he discussed with Khallataka which measures to take. ‘The world is waiting in deep confusion, which can only be destructive, for a man who will show it a new direction. They wait for you, O, Maharajah.’
He had Kullika return from Vidisha. Kullika knows only one path, that of the Buddha: no varna, ceremony or intellectualism, but purity of heart, benevolence and compassion for all that lives, the purification of heart and senses. It is the way out of suffering. The impure ones, the despised ones, the cursed ones, the Buddha called them to him with compassion and love. No sacrifices of the living, no killing, or war. The Buddha condemns it with four words: ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ The spirit of happiness for each and everyone is the spirit of love and goodness: ‘Whoever wants to remedy the disposition of the peoples has to encourage their kindness, to rein in their greedy desires, O, Maharajah.’
‘Then I will not get there, my Kullika!’
He struck the gong. ‘Jala, lead Maskarin in.’
As soon as Maskarin arrived, he was asked: ‘Inform us about what you discovered in Kalinga.’
‘Holy Maharajah, I discovered that the Kalingas are preparing for war. The strength of their military was reported to you as sixty thousand foot-soldiers, a thousand horse-soldiers and seven hundred elephants. As it is now, it is certainly three times that. Its leaders from Pataliputra teach the people, that to die for the King of Kalinga brings the highest blessing after death because only in Kalinga the gods are revered and receive the right offerings. More and more men are trained for the war.’
‘For what purpose, Maskarin?’
‘The governors and the people keep a greedy eye on Anga and the rich countries of Magadha and Videha, which are called Sumana’s empire. They have given up on Nigrodha. But they still place their trust upon the many enemies of your new faith, Sire. They whip up the minds of the warriors: no pity for the enemies, no forgiveness that is weakness.’
‘And the king?’
‘He calls himself the friend of the killed Prince Sumana.’
‘You can go, Maskarin. Well, Kullika, if I respect: ‘Thou shalt not kill’ from the Buddha, then they will kill us. Is that why I became Maharajah? I have to arm myself so there will be no chance of their victory. Against the discord in my empire, I wish to seek the sara, the essence of all religions. That must be with what the Atman unfolds itself in the human being, the right law, the principle, that is eternally valid. In my empire live peoples with many religious faiths, sublime like the Vedanta of the Brahmins, wild like the tantra of the forest-peoples. In the sara, everyone will recognise his own endeavour, the unfolding of the All-spirit. If that were to be recognised, then the people will meet the religion of others with forbearance, with the way I myself wish to meet it. Then we will establish the Dharma, which will be respected as the right Law of my empire. The Uparaja, Tishia, will be in charge of this g
reat investigation. Sayana and you Kullika, will be his advisers. The most truthful and the best of all sects and religions will cooperate, so that we may find a Dharma for all the people, from the East to the West, which does not divide but unites.’
Dynamic in his decisions and measures as ever, the following day instructions were already given to arrange a separate building for Tishia. There the Dharma-mahamatrya of Ashoka was to be housed with a staff of the most able lipikaras.
Tishia and Kullika had worked for two years with lipikaras, informants and courier-purushas, to get an overall view of all religions and sects in the great empire when, one day, Ashoka asked his guru to come in.
‘My Kullika, Agnibrahma, who has made himself very useful in the Dharma-department, will soon bring the investigations to an end. My son, Mahindra, is sixteen years; it is about time that he came to Pataliputra to be initiated into matters of governance. Vasumitra wishes to be relieved from his post as Viceroy. Kesala, too, wishes to follow his spiritual vocation. Would you bring Mahindra here from Vidisha? Make Devi see that it is necessary.’
‘It will be difficult for the Maharani to let her son go!’
‘Sons are not there to be cherished by their mothers.’
‘There is a deep inner bond between the Maharani and her children. And Prince Mahindra has a tender heart.’
‘It will be fortunate if he has also the power to control it. I had promised Devi to let him stay in Vidisha till he was sixteen. That time has now passed, my Kullika. Can Agnibrahma spare you?’
‘Agnibrahma is capable, diligent and as truthful as the Buddha.’
Ashoka beat the gong and had his nephew come in.
‘Agnibrahma, Kullika leaves for Vidisha. You will take over his work.’
Agnibrahma looked from Ashoka to the priest. ‘I do not know, gracious uncle, whether I am able to do so. I am still studying the western provinces. Data and information about Yavana, Darada, Pankanada, Bhils and Rajputans are finally available to me now.’
Ashoka the Great Page 59