‘I have already sent a guard from Vaishali, gracious Maharajah.’
‘Good. I do not trust that Katcha! How large is the hunters’ camp?’
‘Twenty to thirty men.’
‘Return to Tirha but make certain beforehand that you are clear about my orders.’
‘And Diti?’ asks the Agramahisi, when Kappa has left.
‘I cannot yet help her. I will ask Mahindra to send a mission to Tirha. Perhaps, she can free herself from the spell of those inhuman customs of the villagers.’
‘Order Kappa to protect her. I know the suffering of the widows in those barely civilised mahavana villages.’
‘Only Buddhism can provide a way to end the heartlessness of the one who, born and living in the mahavana, constantly perceives a menace around him—in the village and in the forest—and then casts his problems on to poor defenceless widows and the lowly-born. Such a man requires the Light of the Buddha to change his inner views.’
‘But even more the righteousness from the ivory throne!’
‘I wish that the Light of the radiant sun from Kapilavastu will pervade the black night of all these souls.’
‘If my beloved husband stretches out his arms and embraces his distressed subjects, as Kunala did with Diti, then it is certain to succeed.’
Ashoka smiles. ‘His deed delights me, Asandhi. In Mahindra, I recognise Devi, in Kunala, I recognise myself.’
‘Poor Mahindra. Does it hurt him to lose the leadership of the Sangha?’
‘No. With Mahindra nothing is more important than Buddhism itself.’
‘In that devotion I recognise you, my Maharajah.’
‘And yet it is different: for me Buddhism is a means, for him, the goal. He granted the heretics a place in the Sangha because his heart is compassionate and good even for those who harm the Sangha. I. throw them out, because I find them destructive to my peoples. I have stupas built and sangharamas and viharas. A great deal of my revenues is spent on these. Do you think I do this to offer all those quarrelling monks joy in disputing? And I should put up with their heresy which paralyses the Sangha? I will support the Ashokarama but only if it spreads its welfare over India.’
As the Maharajah leaves, Tishya bows her head to the ground.
‘Stand up, Tyshiarakshita; a friend of the Agramahisi is my friend.’ A look of radiance comes his way …
‘How now, Tishya? You weep?’
‘From joy, gracious Maharani! Did you hear what the great Maharajah called me, where others see only a slave girl?’
‘You a slave girl, my Tishya? You are a proud Kshatriya. Dry your tears, they will ruin your pretty eyes!’
‘Kshatriya as long as the gracious Maharani has me under her wing. The anthapura does not tolerate my pride.’
‘I will protect you till my death, my Tishya, and then the Maharajah will.’
‘When you die, I wish to die with you!’ She sobs.
‘Come, Kshatriya! Come with me to the court hall. Tell Tinka to bring my cloak.’
‘I shall get it myself, High Agramahisi.’
‘No! Tinka! Dry your eyes and straighten your clothes.’ Asandhimitra receives a grateful look. Two servants with chamaras accompany the Maharani. Ashoka receives the women with a warm glance, which then rests favourably on Tishya. An enticing laugh betrays how she delights at this singular honour.
Ashoka orders that the hunter Tulya be brought before him. In-between a few guards stands the young man, hair and thin beard dishevelled, his dhoti wrapped carelessly around his waist, his upper-cloth of fur so loose that his broad and hairy chest is exposed. He looks at the Maharajah in fear, as though the mere presence of the Maharajah is ominous. When the clear eyes of the Emperor meet his, he lowers them; yet it is as though a glimpse of a great soul has bored through him, and he knows that the Maharajah’s verdict will be just. This calms him. If he is to be killed then it will be on the orders of the sacred Maharajah.
‘Bring the guilty before me!’ They seize the hunter and stand him before the judges. Tulya falls to his knees and brings his folded hands to his forehead, bending forward until his hair touches the ground.
‘Stand up! What is your name?’ The hunter directs his dark eyes at the Emperor and with his hands brushes his hair backwards.
‘Tulya, Lord.’
‘You are a hunter, Tulya, you face the fiercest of forest animals and do not fear, perhaps, even the wildest. What took possession of you that you could assault a weak and defenceless woman?’
Tulya barely understands the question. Yes, he committed the crime, but what possessed him?
‘I do not know, Lord, what took possession of me. When a woman sets foot in our camp she is laying herself open to the wild beast in us that snatches whatever it is being fed. I am the youngest, the strongest, and perhaps the fiercest. So, I seize first and would have beaten off any rival …’
‘Diti was sent for Kawi, not for you!’
‘Who would allow a woman to be sent into our camp as a bearer of a message, Lord? Everyone knows she would not be safe there. We live in the midst of nature. We do as nature tells us, and according to the laws of nature, Lord.’
‘So, you are an animal, who only knows the law of the mahavana. You are not a human!’
‘I am, Lord, but … a man from the forest.’
‘Have you ever heard of the Buddha?’
‘Yes, Lord, and no.’
‘He taught all people the law of compassion.’
‘Diti is a widow, Lord, cursed because of sins committed in an earlier life. In Tirha there is no compassion for a widow without sons.’
‘And do you not see yourself as a coward for having inflicted the worst of shame on such a weak woman, bereft of all assistance and succour? No one to protect her or to lend a hand to help when a bestial hunter overpowers her? Suppose, one of the hunters, much stronger than you, had stood in front of you and had said to Diti: ‘What are you doing out here in the camp of a people who are answerable only to the laws of the Mahavana. Go back to your homestead and protect your chastity!’ What then would you have done, Tulya?’
Tulya lowers his head then looks the Maharajah straight in the eye.
‘I might have backed off, Lord.’
‘Why, Tulya?’
‘Lord, because that hunter was stronger than me.’
‘So, only because of that?’ says the Maharajah sternly, yet disappointed.
‘And … because I would have thought that he had more right to her than me, Lord.’
‘More right to commit a crime?’
‘More right, since it is with his life that he protected her, Lord.’
‘Right, Tulya. You did nothing to protect that unfortunate woman. You have made her life even more catastrophic than it was. We will take charge of the punishment. We will punish you, hurt you, so you will never again commit this crime, Tulya. From now on, every woman will be safe from your lust.’
Tulya trembles. The shame, to be a eunuch!
‘Lord! Have me killed instead!’
‘No!’
‘Lord, I want to … take Diti as wife. Gandharva marriage, Lord!’ Tulya kneels down and holds up his bound hands.
‘And deliver her to the hunters’ camp?’ says Ashoka.
Confused and scared, Tulya looks ahead.
‘Lord! I shall perform my penance; keep away misery from her as long as I live, Lord! I wish to be a warrior or a hermit, or a farmer; whatever you want or Diti wants, Lord.’ Once more Tulya bows his head to the ground. Ashoka keenly observes this ‘man of nature’ for several moments.
‘Only for fear of losing your manhood!’
‘Also, since I did Diti wrong and want to make good for what I did wrong, Lord. Perhaps, then she will be able to forget the camp!’
‘You now realise, do you not, Tulya, that you have obeyed the laws of nature thoughtlessly, without thinking about the wounds you have inflicted. Maybe, now you will also understand that you are a human being with manas, one who
is aware of his urges and who must control them, and cultivate great compassion. You have seen a glimpse of the Light of the Buddha. Stand up.’
Ashoka looks directly into his wide eyes. There is something in Tulya that makes him trustworthy.
‘You will go back to Tirha with my soldiers and request Diti to be your wife. If she agrees, you will do penance through complete devotion to her. If she refuses, then you are free to go, but beware you never meet my judges again, Tulya, because then you will be lost!’
‘I shall be forever grateful to you, holy Maharajah.’
At a signal from Ashoka, Tulya is led out; in his eyes are reflected courage and joy.
The Emperor then leaves the courtroom with the Agramahisi.
‘And if Diti mercifully accepts Tulya, my Lord?’
‘My hand reaches far, Asandhi, rest assured. And Tyshiarakshita, is she also as concerned about the fate of an unknown woman?’ Tishya looks at the Maharajah. The joy of being included by the mighty ruler in this discussion makes her smile upon him.
‘For a Kshatriya, a gandharva marriage is as binding as a brahminical marriage, Lord. Kodini is guilty of a crime.’
‘Your judgement is right, Tishya, but does not Diti arouse your compassion?’
‘My compassion is not of much use, gracious Maharajah. Diti has the sympathy of India’s beautiful Agramahisi.’
Asandhimitra notices how the reply, evasive though it is, strikes him, and as his gaze rests with satisfaction on the proud Kshatriya for a while, suddenly a swift thought registers in her mind. That is how she can secure Tishya’s life!
A mission of Buddhist monks who through the power of their conviction have proved able of convincing the upasakas, now journeys towards Tirha.
10
ETERNAL DOUBT
he next morning, as Rohita kisses the flowering countryside, the ship that will bring Moggaliputta Tissa back to the Ashokarama approaches Pataliputra. Ashoka has the tidings announced throughout the city and, thus, thousands surge to the banks of the Ganga. A wooden plank covered with treasured carpets is laid out, connecting the bank and the ship; then the holy Maharajah makes his appearance. Ashoka welcomes his old Guru warmly and with great distinction. From his subjects he demands great reverence for the Brahmins and Sramanas but even greater are the demands he asks from the priests and bhikshus. He knows that the success of his life’s work depends on their venerability. The heresy in the Sangha distressed him; a Sangha lacking the earnest vigour of bringing people to the path which the Buddha showed is as the Ganga without water, as a mango without juice. That is why he took the leadership away from Mahindra, which was not easy for his fatherly heart, and restored Moggali Tissa to his former position.
‘I thank you, holy Upagupta, that you honoured my wish. May the welfare of my peoples and your respect for the teachings of the Tathagata persuade you to accept with love the heavy task which I have dared to lay upon you, as head of the Sangha. I hope that your journey has not been too difficult.’
‘Nothing will be too heavy for me, O, Maharajah, if you, who watches over your peoples as a loving father does, are in need of my abilities. The Buddha worked till his last moments.’
The holy man walks alongside the Maharajah to the bank. His shorn head, browned by the jungle, above the yellow robe, his dignified mien and steady pace, his stateliness, are by themselves sufficient to impress the gathering crowd, enhanced even more by the reverence which he is being shown by the Maharajah, the Maharani, and the bhikshus. The opulently decorated elephants, surrounded by the Emperor’s soldiers, take the delegation regally through the city and to the palace.
Seated beside the Agramahisi on the third elephant is Tishyarakshita. Asandhimitra has requested this special favour of Ashoka. His smile implies approval. ‘As the first-lady-in-waiting to the Agramahisi,’ he had said. ‘And most loyal friend,’ she had laughed in response. Yet, Tishya herself feels offended that she had to wait on the elephant till the Agramahisi returned. But she wills her eyes to show only friendliness, as Asandhimitra returns to her place. When Moggali Tissa does not seem to notice her, she is offended once again. She conceals her indignation, however, behind appealing laughter, as she usually does whenever she is forced to step back at official events by the rules of the court.
In the intimate ambience of his work-room, Ashoka brings the Arhat up to date with the situation in the Ashokarama.
‘I wish, holy father, that all unworthy elements be removed and that a meeting be called of all the bhikshus at which the Teachings, as the Buddha has given them to us, will be established forever.’
‘Just like the meeting of Vaishali: A concerted action of all the trustworthy men from the viharas, the most able, the most worthy. To have that decreed, which is believed to be just and good and so have acknowledged forever the irrefutable.’
‘So it must be. We shall impel all the bhikshus to take what is the Buddha’s into their hearts and minds, and expel the heretics.’
‘If we could start with a thousand serious bhikshus, gracious Maharajah.’
They then decided to establish a Canon of Buddhism, and begin investigations the following day1.
‘And what does Your Gracious Majesty expect of me?’
‘I want from you reinforcement in introducing the Dharma to the whole world so that man will be inspired by a love for peace and hatred for war and so usher in the welfare of humanity.’
‘What does Your Gracious Majesty understand as Dharma?’
‘Dharma, holy Tissa, is that in each religion, which makes it worthy of the peoples’ reverence for it: The sara of all religions, that which is not part of man as natural being but is part of the All-Spirit2, which the Brahmins call Atman, that which he recognises within the deepest part of his being as ‘good’. That recognition of human value, regardless of varna or sect, is Dharma. The only ritual, which is worthy to be followed, is the Dharma-rite, the fulfilment of the Dharma: the eternally elementary, universal true and good. The unprejudiced understanding of the relative merits of the gods and rites of all sects, in relationship to the Eternal, the inner essence … That is what the Buddha requires of man. And I want more, noble Upagupta. I want to carry the awareness of the Dharma beyond the borders of my empire, to the whole world, so that wars may become an abomination. I wish to carve out the Dharma on rocks and pillars.’
‘Your noble designs dazzle me, holy Maharajah. But what will be the ways with which you can influence people in this direction?’
‘By sending missions to foreign lands. By silencing the battle drums, by sounding the drum of Dharma over the entire world. I want to disperse lipis to all the viharas to instruct what must be reflected upon if one is to remain in the Sangha. My pradesikas, rajukas, and kumaras3, will proclaim Dharma to my people. And my Dharma-mahamatras will journey through every part of my empire, and with thoroughness, examine whether my officers are imparting Dharma to my subjects and whether they govern my country in the spirit of Dharma. My subjects have the duty to live according to it but also the right to demand it of my government. The immense riches coming in from my empire have no value, if they repose in my treasuries, but they do if they serve to further the temporal welfare on earth and the eternal welfare after this life. The wealth of the world is: prosperity and Dharma for its people. That is what I am looking for during my reign and for the future far ahead. Kunala shall be the first to follow in my path and be a good judge.’
‘And when Kunala dies?’
Ashoka smiles. ‘Why would the gods ruin him when they protected me from a thousand perils? Moreover, Kunala will have sons. And the welfare of the world is not dependent on me or my successors, but on Dharma, holy Tissa. Dharma must become the great propelling force in the world.’
‘For such a sacred pursuit, I will be only too happy to lend all aid in my powers, Lord.’
The next day the great Arhat begins his task, purifying the Sangha. Ashoka himself is present to support Tissa in his difficult work. Under Tissa’s
supervision, twenty selected bhikshus quiz the monks in the ashram: ‘What did the Buddha teach and what did he require of the bhikshu?’ In the course of the discussion, those of the monks who do not, by the strength of their conviction, justify their monk-hood, must take off their yellow robe, clothe themselves in white and depart from Pataliputra. He may not show himself in any city or township that houses a vihara. Ashoka, too, throws his own questions to a few of the monks, including Sama and Shantanika. Sama is cast out but Shantanika knows too well the Buddhist doctrine to allow himself to be unmasked. Ashoka requests him to come to him in the evening.
A long line of bhikshus, dressed in white, leaves the Ashokarama and moves towards the gates of the city. Only for a moment do they attract the attention of the passersby. Ashoka’s prosperous Pataliputra summons men to work and there is little interest in meddling with the more or less holy men from the palace and the Ashokarama.
In the evening Shantanika is brought before Ashoka.
‘You preach a heretical doctrine in the ashram, Shantanika.’
The monk looks surprised. ‘I did not know that I did, noble Maharajah.’
‘You wish to elevate the Buddha to a god.’
‘Yes, if I were master of the Sangha, noble Maharajah. It is a serious concept, in my opinion.’
‘The accomplished, enlightened Buddha has clearly shown the path to his followers: observance of the right attitude to life through contemplation of his teachings. He does not want us to lose ourselves in unsolvable problems. And it is those kinds of problems, unanswerable questions, that you raise.’
‘The Buddha has said: ‘ Because there exists however, you monks, an unborn an un-originated, an uncreated and unformed, there is a path to be found for the born, the become, the made, the formed.’ Why should we not reflect on that if it seizes our interest?’
‘But the Buddha has come to help mankind especially to free it from the power-greedy priests, who had kept the people away from all that is good and beneficial for them. A new godhead will create a new priesthood, with new powers, emerging out of a desire for their own welfare. You want the bhikshus to become priests but the Buddha desires a change of inner view and attitude of all the people!’
Ashoka the Great Page 80