Utanka stands up: ‘That was the life of the Bodhisattva. When Vessantara died he went to the Tushita-heaven, and he was reborn just once more to become the Buddha and to save all people from their errors, to show them the way out of the maze of rebirths to the salvation in Nirvana.
‘Do you also want to take the first step on his path? Do you wish to alter your attitudes, nurture your compassion for every person, every animal, walk the way of the Buddha? Then set your hearts on good, avoid evil and keep your thoughts pure. Lift up your hearts, come out of your shelter, turn towards the Buddha, the Dharma; throw down the Lord of death, like the elephant does the reed hut. Those who live thus will escape the wheel of births and put an end to suffering. Take your refuge in the Buddha.’
Diti approaches the bhikshu in great excitement, and raises her folded hands to her forehead.
‘Lord, can I too, go to the vihara for women?’
‘The Tathagata is full of compassion for you, Diti. He approves of a woman like you being accepted. First, you must raise your child until it comes of age. The Buddha wants that there will be a bhikhuni appointed, to be of help to you. Afterwards, you can be inducted as a bhikhuni and receive the upasampada ordination. We shall say that you request Veluvana as your home. I know that the holy Maharajah will be your intercessor.’
‘Come along with the entourage to Pataliputra, Diti,’ says Kunala.
‘Come to father’s house, Diti, to prepare yourself,’ Kancha adds helpfully.
The royal family, along with Diti, leaves for the camp. To the great astonishment of the people present, she rides on one of the elephants …
In a simple ceremony, the purusha and Utanka join Kunala and Kanchanamala in marriage the following day. Santanu and a couple of Brahmins tend to the offerings which he considers necessary for the happiness of his daughter. Diti becomes Kancha’s chief servant, Tulya, Kunala’s guard. The journey to Pataliputra soon commences under the protection of a heavy guard. Utanka and his helpers continue to work for the well-being of the people. Almost all choose the side of the Buddha and delve deeper into the teachings of love. Their diligence grows: they want to establish a vihara for the monks. Ashoka orders his foreman to build a fine monastery near Tirha, around which they will build the simple huts, leaning against the great vihara, from where the beautiful doctrine of the Tathagata will spread its wings over those who still live in the ruthlessness of the Will of nature.
12
THE YOUNGEST RANI
ike a red fireball the sun plunges down in the west and touches the high waters of the Ganga. Ashoka stands alone in the far corner of the park, his gaze wandering over the wide river and the green land into the distant horizon. He longs for Kunala who lingers on the banks of the Bhagvati. Kanchanamala? He, Ashoka, should be happy that his son is beginning to feel more independent and, in his love for the young Brahmin girl, is less mindful of his strong attachment to him. He, too, desires it so! How else will the Prince find the strength for the great task that awaits him? One day, he, Ashoka, will set—like the fireball yonder—behind the end-poles of the world. Then Kunala will have to lead the peoples further on the path of the Buddha. Is he capable of doing so? Neither Jalauka nor Karuvaki’s son, Tivara, will become Maharajah.
The sun has disappeared and he walks back in the twilight. It is time to receive his informers who in a continuous flow, day in day out, come from the farthest corners of his limitless empire to apprise him about everything he needs to know: A raft that departed from Chuny a few months ago with the first of the giant pillars for Buddha’s birthplace, and has been drifting down the Jamuna and then the Ganga, has entered the Sarayu, nearing Kapilavasthu. Four thousand soldiers are needed to transport the gigantic work of art across the countryside to its destination. In Sanchi, too, an Ashoka pillar with lion-capital has arrived for the great Stupa. There, Devi became his consort and their happiness blossomed. He sacrificed her love for the great empire of his Father. Other women were forced upon him, women whom he accepted for the good of the country and whom he learned to regard with esteem and love, like Asandhi. He has grown older, less susceptible to womanly charm.
The Rajuka of Ambi has died. Obstinately he refused to take refuge in the Buddha. Yet, he was an upright governor. Now one of the most capable Buddhist employees will take his place.
Mathura, wishing to build a huge monastery that will look out over the Doab, seeks the support of the holy Maharajah. Tomorrow he will organise the task but at the same time he wants to build an abbey for nuns there; he will call it The Madri Abbey.
There is famine in Dakshina in the Deccan. For two years now the rain god has withheld the heavenly milk. Ashoka decrees that grain, rice and dried fruits are to be sent from his granaries. Simultaneously he dispatches a number of officers to Kalyani, all of them experts in water irrigation. Do not the rivers bring vast quantities of water from the mountains in the west? It is easy to blame the rain god and then to huddle around the sacred fires. He will force the inhabitants to dig beneficial irrigation-canals which will put an end to the ever-recurrent famine.
The great road from Hastinapura to Visapura is dangerous because of thugs who pillage caravans and pilgrims. Ashoka orders the dispatch of a large body of troops to exterminate the bandits or to punish them. He then orders the digging of wells by road-crews and the construction of rest houses along the trunk road.
An emissary from Tirha informs him that the Yuvaraja, along with his royal consort, are on their way to Pataliputra. Ashoka can hardly contain his happiness.
‘When will he arrive in Pataliputra?’
‘In three days, noble Maharajah.’
After all the informers have been heard, Ashoka goes to Asandhi. The physicians have prescribed rest and herbal extracts to relieve her headaches and fatigue.
‘In three days, Kunala will return from Tirha.’
‘Two more happy ones in India, my Raja.’
‘I will go to Vaishali to welcome the heir to the throne and his young wife. And I would like the Agramahisi to accompany me on the royal elephant so that the population of the holy city of Vaishali will know how highly I esteem Kunala.’
‘Was the Yuvaraja Ashoka also welcomed like this in those early days?’
Ashoka smiles. ‘The people did not regard me highly and I was no Yuvaraja. They feared the Wild Prince more than they revered him.’
‘And has Maharajah Ashoka needed that tribute?’
Ashoka sits close to Asandhimitra.
‘They did not know that a beautiful young Brahmin lady from the Sarayu would come to tie a delicate-blue scarf around the eyes of the Wild Prince.’
Asandhi places her hand on his arm. ‘Does Kunala need your support? It is in everyone’s interest that the most beloved son of Ashoka will ascend the ivory throne after you.’
‘The welfare and prosperity of my subjects will depend on my successor.’
‘Thus, on the fragile existence of a single human being? Bindusara relied upon his armies.’
‘I trust in Dharma which means not ruling through fear but through a change in the inner attitude and outlook of all peoples, Asandhi.’
‘You began in the domain of trishna, my Piyadasi, and you have pressed on until you found the way of the Buddha. You have guided Kunala from his birth onwards towards the path of the Buddha. Where will he stop? The older I grow, the more my fear grows at the vulnerability of your empire. The older you grow, the more does your faith grow in the sufficiency of your measures. You can be the benefactor of the Sangha because you are a powerful man. Will Kunala also be one, and his son? Only one weak ruler and the peoples who still live in trishna will be at the borders of India. There ought to be harmony between the great compassion and the defence of what has been gained so nobly throughout the years. Both have the right to exist.’
‘The, entire humanity has to come to the Buddha, abandoning war in pursuit of compassion.’
‘Then you do not take into account the trishna that lives and wil
l live inside each human being. There has to be a harmonious balance between all the powers which work in the world. A nation that does not wish to adapt to being humane has to be forced, if necessary through power. You do not tolerate when beasts of prey snatch people away from their hamlets. Why do you have hunters? If your mighty empire should become weak, do you not fear the Iranians, the Macedonians and those powers that lie beyond the Himalayas?’
‘It is better to first bring the Buddha into the world.’
Asandhi reflects for a while on Ashoka’s words. Then she says warmly, ‘You are so noble in your ambitions my King, that, unfortunately, the people will not understand you for centuries to come!’
‘Are you accompanying me to Vaishali, my Asandhi?’
‘My health does not allow me. Take Tishya with you. You neglect her, my Raja.’
‘I took her into the harem. It does not mean that I wish to place her in precedence.’
‘I love Tishya Rakshita very much, she rouses pity in me and it would distress me if you were to hold her in scorn or put her aside. She is as much a Rani as us and has endured more than us.’
Ashoka reflects for a while. ‘Inform your friend that she may accompany me, to bring Kunala from Vaishali. Mogali Tissa awaits me.’
Asandhi embraces him happily. The Maharajah leaves for his working quarters. A little later the master of the Sangha appears, And Ashoka leads the venerable old monk to the seat of honour opposite him.
Tissa has completed his great work: The Council of a thousand serious and capable men of acumen have established the Doctrine and the rules of the order, according to their inner conscience, absorbing them into their minds and hearts. No heretical thoughts will be tolerated any more. Ashoka sends the lipis with the decisions to all the monasteries and at Bhabra has immortalised in stone what Tissa has accomplished so mightily. The Maharajah can choose for his Dharma-mahamatras and his missions to foreign countries out of a thousand bhikshus who will convey Buddha’s doctrine and Ashoka’s justice to the people.
‘And Mahindra, my Tissa?’
Tissa is moved by the fate of Ashoka’s eldest son. It is strange that this Princely being does not seem destined to live for the welfare of all, like his great father.
‘Mahindra!’ he says, ruminating. ‘He is the earnestness of earnestness, the truth of the truth, the purity of the purity. When his melodious voice recites the sutras it is as if a glow of the Buddha emanates from the Vihara or the clear sound of the Doctrine blends with the chorus of the monks, as if the inspiration of Buddha’s sermons—as it touched the people of Magadha and Videha—takes possession of the assembly; as though the immortal echo of Buddha’s spirit traverses through all our spirits and makes aware the eternal bond between all that lives. It is as though all are lifted up towards the Tathagata, as though a will unfolds that is stronger than all that trishna animates. What can his life bring to us yet?’
‘In Lanka, the old king Mutasiva will soon die. I heard that the young Yuvaraja Tissya adopted my name, Devanampiya, out of respect for our work. I will dispatch a mission to his kingdom. Will Mahindra be able to lead this?’
‘His understanding of the Doctrine is exceptional; his zeal for the Tathagata is indefatigable. He will convey the Buddha to Lanka, pure and authentic,’ Tissa delightedly expressed his thoughts.
‘You will determine, holy Tissa, who is to accompany him.’
The following day Ashoka summons Mahindra.
‘You wish to speak to me, my Father?’
‘What is your aim in life, my eldest born?’
‘I want to be a good sramana of the Buddha; Buddha’s disciple, nothing more, and ripen to Nirvana. Only that I see as my highest happiness.’
‘The Buddha worked for forty years before he ascended Nirvana.’
‘I shall work till it opens for me,’ smiled Mahindra.
‘I wish to send a mission to Lanka to bring the Buddha to the kingdom of the young King Devanampiya Tissa. The old king will die soon and Tissya is an admirer of my work in India. Do you wish to be the holy one who will take this exalted task upon himself?’
‘I will be happy if you consider me capable of this task.’
‘Very well, it is the work of a lifetime. Before you accept it, bid farewell to your mother in Vidisha.’
‘As a bhikshu, I am not allowed anymore to live under the same roof with Mother.’
‘She will provide another shelter for you, close to her.’
‘Thank you, my Father.’
While Ashoka crosses the Ganga along with a magnificently attired body of troops who will accompany him on the road to Vaishali, Mahindra departs to Sanchi, passing by the side of Bodh Gaya along the Ashoka road, to bid a last farewell to his mother.
Tishya Rakshita is seated by the side of the Maharajah on the royal elephant. Ashoka is deep in thought most of the time. The unending fertile fields of paddy and millet, interspersed with luscious mango groves, banyan trees and prosperous hamlets, whose inhabitants kneel along the road in deference as the royal entourage passes – all this impresses the Rani who has been cloistered in Pataliputra for so many years.
And while Ashoka is musing on the destiny of his sons and of his empire, she is rejoicing in the picturesque journey and in her high dignity. The veneration by the Vaishyas and the Shudras are also meant for her. Her beauty and her place on the royal elephant must be impressive. Why then does the Maharajah take so little notice of her? Is it because she had been a waiting-maid? But she is a Kshatriya, like Rani Padmavathi, like Rani Karuvaki! She cannot understand his distant bearing. In the past, he has shown some pleasure in her, included her in his discussions with Rani Asandhimitra. Yet, she hardly dares to disturb him. Does he think about the Agramahisi? She is old and withered while she herself is young and in full bloom! Or, is the Agramahisi the only one with whom he can talk on matters that keep him busy? Is she not the most recently chosen Rani? It disturbs her that he says nothing at all to her. His un-comely face has for a long time been turned away from her since he is looking straight ahead towards the paddy fields and the woods, bathing in the light of the gleaming sun.
‘Did I give the Maharajah a cause for displeasure?’
Ashoka turns to her, amazed. His great, friendly eyes looks at her in surprise.
‘Certainly not, my Rani. Might I be permitted that even while on a journey, I reflect on matters of the State which will not be of interest to you.’ He smiles at her.
‘But are you not on your way to Vaishali to welcome your most beloved son, and your daughter-in-law whom you do not know yet, gracious Maharajah?’
‘I will have to control my impatience for two more days, Tishya Rakshita. I need time. A thousand cases are always waiting for my decisions when I have dealt with a hundred.’
‘So, I have disturbed my Lord in his reflections.’
Ashoka notices the disappointment of his youngest Rani. Within her heart the Kshatriya is insulted: he does not seem to consider her worthy enough to talk to. He cannot charm her, especially not because he is so totally engrossed in his work of governance and Buddhism. They say that he spends the largest portion of the tremendous revenue on stupas, viharas, gifts for the priests and the monks, beautiful statues and pillars. Asandhimitra is like him. But she, Tishya, is different! She would like to accompany him to the camp of the warriors, join him travelling in front on mighty elephants, war chariots, to ride on horses and race through the woods and the hunting grounds. Asandhi has told her, ‘The Maharajah does not like that.’ Now, even on the very first day, the journey is already becoming tedious and her consort seems hardly aware of the presence of his youngest Rani.
‘No, you did not disturb me, my Rani. But you should never forget that the interests of the peoples come first before everything else, even before the pleasure that a beautiful young Rani can offer.’ He smiles, and his smile radiates the wonderful eyes of the mighty ruler.
‘Forgive me, Gracious Majesty. I know beauty and youth soon wither away bu
t the interests of the peoples remain forever.’
These words she has often heard from Asandhi. She surprises Ashoka.
‘Mostly, it is my son who occupies my thoughts, Tishya, his wedding and the hope that soon there will be sons born to the Yuvaraja, so that the Mauryas can continue my work.’
Ashoka observes the happy laugh that lights up her beautiful features. It is joy over her victory; the Maharajah reveals to her his thoughts.
‘You have more sons, Sire.’
‘But the Wheel of Buddha’s Doctrine has to keep rolling over the earth, Tishya. Fortunately, Kunala thinks like me.’
‘And if Yama were to take him inopportunely to his realm?’
‘Devanampiya! The gods have supported me in my endeavours and it has become a blessing for India. Why would they take away Kunala who would, just like me, work for the happiness of all his subjects in this land? The possibility that he may lose his life is so much less than mine was during my own youth. I found a country in chaos whereas his will be orderly, prosperous and happy. Kunala has, besides his vision, the strength of the Mauryas. I wish Kanchanamala to be of support to him, just like …’ He pauses and keeps silent.
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