It is then that the Buddha ascends to a state where the spirit is elevated above all lust and suffering, above all the senses. At last, a three-fold knowing enters him. With his divine, clairvoyant eye, he sees all beings in their cycle of rebirths, how they descend by their evil thoughts, words and deeds, to abodes of suffering, and how, by noble thoughts, words and deeds, they ascend to heavens of light. He then sees all his previous incarnations and those of other beings, through all the ages, with their lust and pain, their noble and ignoble fates. He remembers all his previous names, incarnations and the span of his lives.
Finally, he directs his mind to the origin of suffering, and the averting of suffering. He sees how all beings are subject to births, illness, ageing and death, again and again; he still knows of no solution. He then contemplates the causes, from whence ageing and dying originate and, ever delving deeper, he finally realises that ultimately the cause is ignorance. So destroy ignorance! He comes to the four noble truths suffering8, the origin of suffering, the obliteration of suffering and the path that leads to the obliteration of suffering. The Bodhisattva has discovered the highest, most sovereign Light and the three-fold knowing of the Buddha. A cry of joy resonates through all the heavenly realms: the all-knowing Buddha has risen and will pour forth showers of compassion like balm upon all beings. This is the end of suffering, of births, illness, ageing and death. But the Buddha realises that it will be hard for the people to comprehend and retain unimpaired the norm that he himself has divined; that only sages, rising above the sensual experience, can obliterate all passions, keeping Nirvana as their aim. He decides to remain silent. Saddened, the devas return to the heavens but Brahma reveals himself to the Buddha requesting him to reveal the pristine teachings to humanity. And the Buddha understands that there are many who will be lost without these teachings. Out of compassion he decides to acquiesce to Brahma’s request. He travels to Kashi and there he sets in motion the Wheel of the Teachings. Seekers come to him from all over and he teaches them. For forty years he wanders through Magadha, Kosala and Videha, never thinking of anything but the good, never wanting anything but the good, never doing anything but the good. No harsh, spiteful or unfriendly word is ever spoken by him. All that he utters bears witness to his mildness and compassion for all creatures. He bade farewell to a life of luxury and pleasure, to seek the truth through deprivation and hardship. He teaches his disciples what is the right path, which leads to victory over suffering, and, ultimately, to the greatest bliss, Nirvana. There are three things that the Buddha keeps repeating: contemplation is auspicious and fruitful when it is sustained by the proper attitude to life; knowledge is auspicious and fruitful when based on right thinking; and, through such knowledge and wisdom the soul will free itself from all delusions of sinful passion and aberration.’
‘Who amongst you, men and women of Tirha, wants to live as the Buddha and wishes to strive towards Nirvana, become a member of the Sangha and be compassionate towards all your fellow-creatures? He disdains no one, not the Shudra nor the Brahmin. Those who step onto the noble eight-fold path will rise to a higher realm of life and for him varna will lose all meaning.’
Kodini feels this to be offensive to Katcha. She whispers to Matali, who throws her a punch on her side and orders her to be quiet.
‘Why do you still hate another?’ continues Utanka, ‘How do you still dare to despise a widow when you harm your own karma by doing so? Set your heart on good, avoid evil, keep your thoughts pure, then you may come to the Accomplished Buddha, the Tathagata. How dare you still despise a Shudra who like you is reborn as a human being because his karma was more than that of other creatures! Not because you belong to a varna but because you are a human being, you deserve respect. Do what the Buddha teaches, have compassion for every human being, for every creature, and you are on the path to the greatest bliss. Men and women of Tirha, take your shelter in the Buddha, the Sangha and the Teachings. The Buddha does not wish to teach rigid dogma, the Buddha wants to make you aware, to change your inner view. You feel no remorse when a person next to you pines away. You have the insensible, unholy courage of evilly rejoicing when fate strikes down a poor or a sick man or a widow. You dare to humiliate and taunt one, who has lost that which is most precious in his life. But the Buddha says: ‘eternally you shall be born again’, as jackals, as snakes, in the darkness of the mahavana, as a cursed Shudra -dog, as a voiceless fish in a muddy ditch, as a beaten beast of burden in the mountains, if you do not lay to rest your harshness to all living beings, if your compassion does not force you to envelop with love those to whom life has already given so much suffering, and if you, out of compassion, do not do well towards man and animal. The Buddha wants peace and fellow-feeling towards every living being. Each act of heartlessness to whomsoever, makes you sink deeper into the bottomless quagmire of reincarnation. Compassion for a living creature, elevates you to the heavens, to the all-permeating Light of the Buddha, to Nirvana. When you have mastered your senses, and all evil, all selfishness, all craving has left you and there remains only peace, compassion, and love for man and animal, then you have attained Nirvana.’
Kunala and Kanchanamala smile understandingly at each other. Kodini is ill at ease, nervously looking all around to the residents of Tirha. They are not paying attention to her because all are attentively listening to Utanka. It is unusual for them that he does not speak of hatred and spite, of punishment and retribution, of nothing at all frightening.
At first, Diti, being somewhat dull and absent-minded, allows Utanka’s words to go over her head but then she becomes interested. Finally, when those words permeate, they are as a release in her heart. She wonders whether she, too, can take shelter in the Buddha, the Sangha, and the Teachings.
‘Finally,’ continues Utanka, ‘when the Buddha became old, he and his followers travelled to the land of the Shakyas. With pain in his heart, he bade farewell to all that was dear to him, to Vaishali, to the mango grove that was a gift from the courtesan Ambapali, to the lovely shores of the Ganga and the Bhagavati, to the peace and quiet of the woods. His followers will live in the viharas and in the monasteries and, through their compassion, be a blessing to all living creatures. And the upasakas will sustain them. And then, in Kusinagara, in a forest of sal of the Mallas, the Buddha is about to die. The trees blossom, the air is filled with a luscious fragrance. Heaven and earth praise the Tathagata. Young disciples, lay-brothers and lay-sisters, come to show him the last honour and weep at his farewell. One last time, he turns towards his followers before he ascends into Nirvana. The earth trembles, thunder rolls in the distance, the light-glow of the Buddha reaches higher than the shimmering mountains of the Hymavant. The funeral pyre is prepared by the Mallas with the greatest of reverence, and the holy relics remaining, are divided into eight portions and given to kings and prominent families. Stupas are constructed where they can be kept so that all peoples can honour the Buddha. Now, after two hundred years, the holy Maharajah wishes to open the stupas and distribute the holy relics amongst all the stupas of India, so that everyone may receive the blessings of the holy Buddha and his teachings.9’
Utanka falls silent. Everyone is aware of the compassion of the holy Maharajah. Is he a follower of Buddha? His builders construct new houses for them. His granaries provide them with food. His missions are there to comfort them. His son listens as they do to Utanka. He is the sacred Maharajah Ashoka, the benefactor of his peoples, a follower of the Buddha!
A second missionary stands up. Like Utanka, Vangissa wears the ochre robe. His eyes sparkle with compassion and holy fire. Listen, listen! Diti pushes her way forward. She wants to know if she and her child are doomed or if they will be accepted in the grace and compassion of the Buddha.
‘They are heretics!’ whispers Kodini in Matali’s ear. She wants to leave the meeting but Matali thrusts her back to her place. ‘Stay, you sinner, and listen!’
Kodini, ashamed, sinks back to her sitting position. She gets angry when Diti moves
to a place closer to Utanka.
‘Look at the slut!’ Matali grabs her arm.
‘Be quiet or I shall flog your back! The other monk is speaking. Be quiet!’
‘One day you must die,’ begins Vangissa, ‘as sure as Surya vanishes tonight behind the Himalayas. But as inevitably as Surya rises again in the morning, will you be reborn, to die again, and to be born again, and for all eternity! The Buddha, in infinite compassion, has shown the way to escape this terrible cycle. The Tathagata, in each incarnation and in each new life, always had before his eyes the great aim of preparing himself for his noble calling, he wished to be the saviour of the world. And he understood each human being, each animal, each deity, because as a Bodhisattva, he himself had, in an endless line of rebirths, relived and experienced and looked through the good and the evil, the joy and the pain! When the holy one came to complete wisdom under the bodhi-tree he remembered all his previous lives of centuries long past. He told his disciples of many, to teach them, and to point them the sacred way. Tomorrow evening I will tell you the Jataka, of his last incarnation before he became the Buddha. Come back here tomorrow.’
But the people of Tirha linger on. They walk up to Utanka and ask if everyone can become a follower of Buddha. They ask if they must bring great offerings and perform more rituals; they ask if they must become a bhikshu in order to serve Buddha. The bhikshus answer them with great willingness and kindness until, finally, the night ends their gathering and all return to their huts.
The next day an army troop arrives with Tulya. A high purusha will conduct the judicial case. While a number of soldiers set up a campsite on the open space, a few are sent to Matali to fetch Diti. There is uproar in the entire village, as everyone wants to know what is going on. Diti is treated respectfully, causing surprise. The villagers are permitted into the camp. The Yuvaraja is also present to act as Judge. This especially inspires confidence in Diti. Utanka is to be the third Judge.
‘Come closer. You are Diti, the widow of Matali’s son?’
‘Yes,’ Diti replies, blushing. After all, she is used to being maligned with the name ‘widow’.
‘Did your late husband’s mother send you to a hunter’s camp with a message for Kawi?’
‘Yes.’ Diti starts crying at the memory.
‘Why did you not refuse, Diti?’
‘I did refuse Lord, but mother Kodini and the brahmacharin Katcha forced me to go. As a widow without sons, I have to obey. I asked a neighbour to take the message and he refused.’
The purusha continues with compassion in his voice: ‘In the camp, you were treated shamefully. And it is Tulya, especially, who has roused wrath in the sacred Maharajah. He would have received a horrifying punishment but he begged the gracious Maharajah for forgiveness and said that he wished to make amends for his evil deed. He wishes to take you as his lawful wife. His marriage would then be regarded as a gandarva-marriage, which is lawful. You are free to accept or reject Tulya’s offer. Tulya will, if you agree, receive and work on land given to him by the Maharajah. Come, Tulya, swear to protect her if Diti accepts your offer.’
Diti is startled as Tulya, who was standing at the back, comes close.
‘I swear that I will honour her, my whole life and keep suffering far from her as much as I can, Lord.’
‘Diti, do you wish to become Tulya’s wife?’
Diti looks shyly and nervously from one man to the other. Tulya had changed from his untidy hunter’s garb to a new Vaishya-robe. He had his hair cut and his beard shaved, according to the wishes of the purusha. Yet, Diti shudders as she sees the one who violated her chastity now standing meekly in front of her. He wishes to restore to her—the despised widow—honour and dignity. She would become the wife of a rich man and will no longer be treated with disdain. Tulya would protect her. She would be released from Kodini and Upamatali’s scorn. She would follow the hunter, Tulya, who had first brought shame upon her. She remembers what happened: She had begged him to let her go, she scratched, hit, to resist the brute; and all was in vain! But she had promised to remain true to Yasa! Those who desire good, detest evil and keep their thoughts pure, will be able to live in the viharas and be a blessing for all beings! Even women! That is what Utanka had said. Therein she sees the deliverance form her difficult life.
‘No! I wish to remain true to Yasa, Matali’s son!’ she cries from the depths of her distressed soul. There is only silence around her. The judges do not say anything. The villagers of Tirha stare straight ahead. They despised Diti, but her steadfast loyalty to Yasa suddenly elevates her above their plain lives. She is choosing loyalty to her deceased husband over safety and protection by the father of her child. They feel this to be honourable, like each sacrifice and each renunciation of natural desires. Many have passed by the widow in disdain, but this display of loyalty moves them.
‘Know well what you are doing, Diti,’ the purusha says to her earnestly. ‘Tulya wants to make amends for the vile thing he has done. He wants to devote himself to you and your child, and you can be his support on the new path. That will increase your karma.’
But Diti is certain. ‘Lord, Yasa is my husband.’ She looks at Utanka. ‘I want to do good, renounce evil, keep my thoughts pure, holy Utanka!’
The purusha then decrees: ‘You, Tulya, are free. The holy Maharajah has so ordered. Go! Be warned, do not stand again before his judges!’
Tulya drops to his knees.
‘Thank you, noble purusha.’ Then he suddenly turns to Diti. ‘Take me, Diti! Come with me. Your son shall be a rich Vaishya. I am young and strong and will keep all evil away from your house. The holy Maharajah will be satisfied with me. Do it, Diti!’
‘No. Yasa …’
‘I no longer wish to be a hunter. I have firmly resolved to take care of you and pay for my wickedness.’
‘Go the way of the Buddha,’ she says softly.
Tulya bows his head. He wants to leave but does not know to where. He turns towards the road to the hunter’s camp, stands still, turns back, and runs off towards Kunala’s soldiers camp. A few guards see him coming. They have brought him from Pataliputra.
‘Where is your wife, Tulya?’ they ask.
He ignores the mockery and asks earnestly: ‘Is the captain here?’
‘No, he had gone to the judging. Come back later.’
Tulya sits down by the side of the road and waits, deep disappointment stamped on him. When Kunala and Kappa finally return, Tulya stands up. The Yuvaraja calls a halt and asks kindly: ‘What do you want, Tulya?’
‘I would like to become a soldier of the holy Maharajah, Lord.’
‘Not a bhikshu, as Diti suggested?’
‘No, Lord. I am a hunter from the mahavana. From the time of my tender youth I lived in danger, wandered on the elephant paths. I can fight with wild animals, and also work. But bhikshu? To walk around with a begging bowl, or remain silent and thinking, I cannot!’
‘Is catching elephants, dangerous work?’ asks Kunala, interested.
‘Not if one stays out of reach of their trunks and feet, Lord.’
‘How do you catch them then, Tulya?’
‘Drive them into a trap with much noise. Or, wound them from a tree. In their rage they run towards you, while you lure them further. But the animals become enraged and …’ He turns silent.
‘And destroy everything on their path! Dwellings and whole villages!’
‘Yes, Lord.’
‘Kawi and his hunters have fled. Can you find them?’
‘No, Lord.’
‘You may take a number of soldiers with you.’
‘No, Lord, we will not find them.’
‘Because you do not want to?’
‘Lord, I am no longer a hunter but I cannot betray them.’
‘Even though they have committed crimes?’
‘Even though, Lord.’ Kunala pauses a moment and looks at the strong, young figure. Disappointed, Tulya steps back.
‘Go tonight and listen to the bh
ikshus in Tirha. Come tomorrow and tell me if you wish to become a monk or my guard.’ The troop moves on and leaves Tulya standing. He barely understands what the Prince had meant. He, Tulya, become a monk when he can become a guard for the Yuvaraja? He has to laugh! Still he attends Ashoka’s mission in the evening. All the villagers of Tirha have settled themselves in an orderly group, sitting cross-legged around the speakers in front of the tent of the bhikshus. Vangissa stands before them, his hands raised to his chest. He looks around calmly: How can he touch the souls of these simple people who are caught in the offering-ceremonies of the Brahmins and in their cruel superstitions? He knows hundreds of the Bodhisattva’s jatakas: how the Lord lived and struggled from birth to rebirth, in ages long gone by, in various shapes.
And Vangissa tells the deeply moving story of Buddha’s next to last incarnation, the jataka of Vessantara who, out of compassion, gave away his holy elephant, horses, children and even his wife, and finally, after unbearable sorrows, was restored to his dignity.
The impression that this story made upon the simple villagers of Tirha was overwhelming. With their great sensitivity to the needs of children and marital relationships, they are in complete empathy with Vessantara’s family. When the royal family goes into exile, some of them could barely contain their sobbing; when the children are spirited away by the insensitive Brahmin, many allow their tears to run freely. When even Devi is taken away from him and Vessantara, bereft of all that is dear to him, remains behind in the woods in deep sorrow, sadness overcomes all the people of Tirha. But they rejoice loudly when Sakra10 rewards sacred virtue in the most bounteous way. They stand up, laugh, cheer, hasten to their simple homes and fetch lamps that they fill with oil, and light them in pure joy. And they let them shine over the place where the preachers are camped. Even Kodini could not hide her emotions and embraces Upamatali. Diti had already pushed forward close to Utanka, as if expecting salvation from him. The others have respectfully yielded to her and let her go. She sheds no tears but her eyes are filled with veneration as she looks at Vangissa. Where the others were carried away by the calamities that befell Vessantara and the happiness that he eventually found, Diti was struck by the penance of the Bodhisattva, who, despite his unbearable sadness, practised his paramita11 and completed his difficult task to the bitter end.
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