The Forest of Thieves and the Magic Garden: An Anthology of Medieval Jain Stories (Penguin Classics)

by Phyllis Granoff

  ‘In most cases affection arises between living beings who are similar in virtue and vice; furthermore, when people have the same nature, their friendship bears the greatest fruit.

  Therefore I must find some means to awaken him to the truth of the Jain religion and thus show to him the greatest act of friendship conceivable. For it is said,

  He is truly a friend who awakens another from the drunken sleep of delusion, here in this house called worldly existence, that is ablaze with the flames of heedlessness.

  Now it is just possible that when he sees an image of the Jina he will recall his past births. I will use this occasion of exchanging gifts as the pretext for presenting him with an image of the Blessed One.’

  Thinking this, he made ready an image of the Blessed First Jina, fashioned from every jewel that exists, calm and beautiful in appearance. He concealed that image in a small container that he put into a larger box. He also gathered together the articles necessary to worship the image, such as an incense burner and bells. He put locks on the box and then sealed it officially with his own seal. When King Seniya was ready to dismiss the retainers of King Addaya, he presented them with jewellery and money and fine silks; Abhaya also gave them the box and further instructed them, ‘You must tell Prince Addaya from me, ‘Do not open this box until you are all alone. Then, you may break the seal and open it and look inside. But you must not show it to anyone.’ Having agreed to do exactly as they had been told, the men departed. They reached home after travelling without a stop. They did all that was to be done, precisely as they had done before, and then went to the dwelling quarters of the prince. They related to him all that they had been told. At that, the prince retired to his inner chambers. As soon as he opened the box he saw the image, which illuminated the ten quarters with its rays of light. Prince Addaya exclaimed, ‘How wonderful! Here is something I have never seen before in my life! Do I wear it on my head or on my ears? Or perhaps I should hang it around my neck? Maybe it’s for my arms, or my hands, or my feet? I’ve no idea what this thing could be!’

  But suddenly he couldn’t help feeling that maybe he had seen it before. And as he wondered and reflected carefully where that might have been, the prince swooned and dropped to the ground. He came to without any assistance from anyone else and stood up. A second later he remembered his past births and began to think, ‘Three births ago I was a farmer named Sāmāia in the village of Vasantapura, which is located in the country of Magahā. I had a wife named Bandumaī. One day I heard the Jain religion from the teacher Sutthiāyāria. I was struck with terror at the dangers of worldly existence. My wife and I both renounced the world. I became a monk. I studied the doctrine and the rituals and wandered from place to place with other monks, who were similarly motivated by a fear of worldly existence. In the course of my wanderings I came to a certain city. My former wife, now in the company of some nuns, also chanced to come to that very city in the course of her wanderings.

  ‘When I saw her, I remembered the delight I used to have in making love to her and I felt the stirrings of desire for her again. I told this to the monk who was with me. He, in turn, told it to the leader of the nuns, who told Bandhumaī. Bandhumaī proclaimed, “Strange indeed are the workings of karma! See how even a learned monk can harbor such evil thoughts! Blessed One! Even if I go away from this place, he will never stop wanting me; he will never leave me alone. It is better for me to renounce all food and die by starvation. For it is said,

  It is better to enter a blazing fire than to break one’s vow of chastity; it is better to die never having done a wrong deed, than to live a life of dissolute behaviour.”

  ‘Making this firm resolve, she renounced all food and with the proper religious instruction died a pious death from fasting. When I heard everything that had happened, I was gripped by a terrible realization of the worthlessness of worldly existence and thought to myself, “This noble lady killed herself out of fear of breaking her vows. But surely I have already broken those same vows. I must also renounce all food.” And without saying a word to my teachers I renounced food. I died and was reborn in heaven. In time I fell from heaven and was reborn here. Can it be that, after renouncing everything to become a monk under an excellent teacher, I have been born here in this uncivilized land because of the desire J harbored in my heart? I must revere above everyone that person who has awakened me, despite the fact that I have been born in a land without culture and true religion.

  ‘For sure, Prince Abhaya and no one else is my teacher, my brother, my friend, my father. For he has rescued me, about to fall into hell, through his own cleverness.

  ‘If I had not formed a friendship with that noble one, then, bereft of the practice of the proper religion, I would have wandered endlessly in the cycle of rebirths.

  ‘Why should I suffer any longer? Let me go at once to that land where there are educated and cultured people and where the true religion exists. I must become a monk, for that alone will release me from all my suffering.’

  And with these thoughts he got up and asked his servants for flowers and the other items he needed to worship the image. When he had completed his worship, he went to see the king. ‘Father!’ he said, ‘I have formed a close friendship with Prince Abhaya. If you, my father, agree, I shall go to Prince Abhaya; surely, when we see each other face to face, we will love each other even more.’ The king replied, ‘Son! Our relationship to King Seniya and Prince Abhaya is different; it is more formal. Under no circumstances are you to go there.’ But the king saw that when he forbade his son from going, the prince took no delight in his usual enjoyments. The king feared that the prince would go without his permission, and so he assigned five hundred of his retainers to guard the prince. In private he told them, ‘If the prince goes, it is on your heads.’ They replied, ‘The king’s words are our command,’ and they began to follow the prince everywhere. Meanwhile, the prince decided, ‘I will somehow trick them and go.’ One day he informed them, ‘I wish to practice my horseback riding.’ ‘Whatever the prince commands,’ they replied, and they brought him the best horse from the stables. They went out to the riding grounds and they put the prince on a horse. The first day the prince rode only a short distance, but with each day he went further and further, until he disappeared altogether from their sight. He would wait a bit and then come back, just when it was the peak of the heat at noon. The bodyguards would wait in the shade for him. In this way he lulled them into trusting him and made his getaway. He had taken into confidence a few people and had told them to fill a ship at the ocean’s shore with jewels; he first placed the image of the Jina on the boat and then got in himself.

  In this way he came to the civilized world. The first thing that he did when he got there was to send the image to Abhaya. He then prepared to become a monk: he sponsored great festivities in the temples of the Jinas; he gave the jewels to his loyal retainers and to the poor and needy; he donned the garb of a monk and ceremonially pulled out his hair; but when he was about to proclaim publicly his monastic vows of total renunciation he suddenly heard the voice of a goddess in the sky, ‘Hear now, great one! Do not become a monk. You still have some karma that you need to enjoy. After you have enjoyed that karma you may become a monk.’ But Prince Addaya liked to think of himself as a hero and so he shouted back, ‘What can karma do to me?’ With that he renounced the world and became a monk. He set off on his life of wandering and in time came to the city Vasantaura. There he stood in a posture of meditation in a temple just outside the city.

  In the meantime, Bandhumaī, who had been his wife in a previous life, fell from heaven and was born into a merchant family in that very city; she was born as Sirimaī, the daughter of Dhanavaī, the wife of the chief merchant Devadatta. One day she was playing with her girlfriends in that very temple; they were playing the game ‘choose a husband’. Her friends all shouted, ‘Choose a husband! Choose a husband!’ The other girls all chose one of their group, but Sirimaī said, ‘I choose this ascetic.’ As soon
as she had made her choice, a goddess proclaimed, ‘Well done. This young girl has chosen well,’ and with roaring thunder she showered the girl with a rain of jewels. Frightened by the roar of the thunder, Sirimaī fell down at the ascetic’s feet. The ascetic, thinking that this pleasurable event would disturb him in his religious practice, hastened to move on.

  Now when the king heard that a rain of jewels had fallen, he went to the temple along with the townspeople. The king began to gather the jewels that had rained down. The goddess stopped him by causing a display of such things as terrifying snakes, their hoods raised in fury. She said, ‘I made this rain of jewels in approval of the choice this young girl made for her husband.’ And so it was that the merchant, the girl’s father, gathered the jewels and put them in a safe place. The young girl, too, went back into the city.

  Now suitors began to come, wishing to marry Sirimaī. She asked her father, ‘Father, what do these men want?’ The merchant answered, ‘Daughter! They come to ask for your hand in marriage.’ She hastened to say, ‘Father, it is against all rules of conduct to give a daughter away twice. For it is said,

  ‘There are three things in this world that are for once and for all: the words of a king, the words of a monk and the giving away of a daughter.

  ‘And I have been given by you to the one whose wealth you accepted. What’s more, even the goddess approved my choice. How could I choose another?’ The merchant replied, ‘Daughter! How shall we even know who he is?’ The daughter said, ‘Father! When I was terrified by the sound of the thunder and fell at his feet, I saw a distinctive mark on his right foot. You will know him by that mark.’ At this the merchant said, ‘In that case, daughter, give alms to all the mendicants. Perhaps he might come here with the others to receive alms.’ And fate so ordained it that after twelve years had passed, that monk lost his way and ended up back in that very city. Sirimaī recognized him and began to speak to him.

  ‘O my lord! O repository of all fine qualities! O my heart’s joy! Having abandoned me in my loneliness and sorrow, where have you been all these years? From the very moment that you were chosen by me as my husband, there has been no room in my heart for anyone else! Now I know that I have accumulated much merit, for you are here at last. O beloved! Take pity on me by grasping my hand in marriage!’

  When he heard these words, the merchant came to see what was going on. He summoned the king. They told the monk, ‘O Noble One! This woman has said again and again that she does not want anyone but you, not even in her wildest dreams. She insists, ‘I vow that either that noble one will touch my body with his soft hands or a blazing fire will consume it.’ So please agree now to marry her.’

  Because he still had karma that he had to enjoy; because he remembered the words of the goddess, and because they so importuned him, for all those reasons, the monk married that girl. As they took pleasure in each other a son was born to them. When the child was a bit older, the husband tried to take leave of his wife. He said to her, ‘I am going to become a monk. Now you have company.’ In an effort to make her child understand what was happening, she took up a bobbin and a piece of thread that was lying around and began to spin. Her son asked, ‘Mother, why are you about to do something that only poor women do?’ She replied, ‘This is also what women who have no husbands should do.’ The child said, ‘Mother, why do you say this, when Father is right here?’ She replied, ‘Your father seems determined to leave.’ Her son said, ‘Where will he go? I will tie him up so that he cannot go anywhere.’ And with those childish words he grabbed the bobbin that had fallen from her hand and wound the string around his father’s feet again and again. When he was finished with his task he said, ‘Mother! Do not worry. I have tied Father up. He won’t go anywhere now.’

  The father thought, ‘Aha! My child’s love for me is strong indeed. I will remain for just as many years as the number of times that he has wrapped the thread around my feet.’ And when he counted he saw that the child had encircled his feet twelve times. He remained there for twelve years. When that time period had come to an end, in the last watch of the night, he woke up and remembering all that had happened to him, he began to lament:

  ‘What good am I? Look at what I have done! Though I was a barbarian, I became a monk, renouncing everything, and then failed to heed my vows and threw myself into the dung heap of carnal pleasures. Though the goddess tried to prevent me, I insisted on climbing to the peak of the mountain of vows. O woe is me, see how I have fallen into the dank well of worldly existence. In my previous birth I broke my vows just by harbouring desire in my mind, and for that sin I was born in a barbarian land. Ah, I do not know now what rebirth I will have to endure for what I have done this time. Alas, alack, this time I have sinned, knowing full well what it was that I was doing. Surely for this I will have to wander from birth to birth in this endless cycle of rebirths. For it is said,

  They are to be pitied in this world, who do not get to hear the words of the Jina. But even more pitiable are those who know the words of the Jina but do not act on them.

  ‘But what use is it to cry so over something that is already done? Now I must truly live a life of restraint and austerity, with utmost sincerity. For it is said,

  Those to whom austerities, restraints, forbearance and chastity are dear, make it first to the world of the gods, even though they may have been born later.’

  And so the very next morning he bade farewell to his beloved wife and donned the garb of a monk. And then as a lion goes forth from a mountain cave, he went forth from that house and took the road to Rāyagiha. On the way he ran into the five hundred retainers, who had once been assigned by his father to protect him. They were now living as thieves in the forest. He recognized them right away. And when they saw him at once they fell at his feet. The holy one asked them, ‘Why have you undertaken to earn your livelihood in this despicable manner?’ They replied, ‘Master! After you tricked us and fled we searched everywhere for you; we got this far but found no sign of you anywhere. Having been unsuccessful in our search, how could we show our faces to the king? In shame and fear we could not go back to the king. And having no other way to survive, we earn ‘our living in this way,’ Then the Blessed One said, ‘Noble men! You should put your efforts into leading a religious life! For it is said,

  Having attained a human birth, a person sunk in the ocean of transmigratory existence should exert himself to lead a religious life, which is the noble course that leads to the fulfilment of all desires.

  ‘And you must never for a moment relax your vigilance. For it is said,

  That people are not endowed with wealth; that they are not free of misery; that they are plagued by illness and disease; that they are not perfectly handsome in form, adorned with every desirable quality; that they do not get to heaven nor attain the bliss of Final Release, in which there is not the slightest trace of fear, the cause of all of these things is simple: it is nothing but wicked lack of vigilance, which is like a swift sword that cuts to shreds the garland of all good fortune.

  ‘Therefore you must give up this life of sin and exert yourselves in leading a religious life.’

  When they heard these words, the thieves all folded their hands in reverence and replied, ‘Blessed One! If you find us worthy, then ordain us all as monks.’ The holy one replied, ‘Become monks!’ And they answered, ‘We will do so,’ and followed him out of the forest. Now when the Blessed sage Addaya had reached the outskirts of the city Rāyagiha, Gosālaga heard that the self-enlightened sage Addaya had come to worship the Blessed Mahāvīra and he challenged him to a debate. He was defeated by Addaya with clever retorts. You may learn of the details of their debate from the Sūyagadānga. I do not give them here for fear of making my text too long.

  Sage Addaya went on his way and when he had almost reached Rāyagiha he came upon the hermitage of some ascetics known as Hathitāvasas, “Elephant Ascetics”. They would kill a single elephant and live on its flesh for many days. They said, ‘What good is it t
o kill many small living creatures like seeds and other things? It is much better to kill a single elephant.’ Now they had brought one large elephant from the forest and had it tied up in their hermitage. It was held fast with heavy metal fetters and tied down by strong iron chains. When that great sage arrived on the scene, the elephant was suddenly possessed of excellent discernment. He saw the Blessed One, who was worthy of being honored by many, surrounded by the five hundred noble princes. And as soon as the elephant saw them he thought to himself, ‘I would also like to bow down to the Blessed One.’ As soon as that thought entered his mind, all of his chains dropped off, through the great power of that Holy One. Freed from his shackles, the elephant proceeded to bow down to the Blessed One. A cry arose from the crowd who saw what was happening, ‘Alas, alas, the great sage will be killed by this elephant!’ But the elephant bent down and touched his forehead to the lotus feet of the Holy One; fixing its gaze on the Holy One the elephant retreated into the forest. The Elephant Ascetics were crazed with jealousy when they saw the power of the Holy One. They rushed to challenge him to debate. They were silenced by that Blessed One, with his intellect practiced in the doctrine of multiple viewpoints. They were awakened by his discourse on the right religion and went to the assembly of the Blessed Tīrthankara Mahāvīra. There they all became Jain monks.