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

by Phyllis Granoff

  (from the Dharmābhyudayamahākāvya of Udayaprabhasūri p.71)

  14

  SIDDHI AND BUDDHI

  Iambūsvāmin wanted to abandon his wives and renounce the world to become a monk. His wives tried to dissuade him by telling him stories. Nabhasenā, her hands folded in reverence, said to her husband, ‘Do not be like the old lady whose story I now tell you.

  ‘“In a certain village lived two women named Siddhi and Buddhi. They were friends; both of them were old now and both were extremely poor. Just outside their village there was a temple to a famous yaksa, a demi-god named Bholaka, who had the power to grant people the wealth that they desired. If poverty were a tree, the old lady Buddhi was a veritable forest of those trees, and so she prayed to that yaksa every day, with all the proper rituals. Morning, noon and night she would sweep clean his temple, and before she worshipped the yaksa she always presented him with suitable offerings.

  ‘“One day the yaksa was pleased with her and asked her, ‘What can I give you? After all even a bird, if treated kindly all the time, is eventually won over.’ The old lady replied, ‘If you are pleased with me, O God, then give me the means to leave comfortably and happily’ The yaksa said, ‘Clever old lady, you are advanced not only in years but in wisdom as well. You shall be rich. Every day you will find a coin at my feet.’

  ‘“And from that time on the old lady did indeed find a coin every day at the feet of the yaksa. With that money she became richer than anyone in her family; in fact, she became richer than anyone else in the village. She soon began to wear new outfits every day, magnificent clothes fit for a queen, such as she had never even dreamt existed. Where once she could not even get enough meagre rice gruel to fill her belly, she now had thousands of cows, their swollen udders dripping with milk. All her life she had lived in a pitiful grass hut, but now she had a palace built for herself, with spreading balconies and lofty pavilions. She, who had subsisted on the pittance she could earn by collecting cowdung from her neighbors, was now waited upon by servants, who stood ready to do her bidding, leaning against every pillar in her house, like so many relief sculptures carved into their surface. She who had once had to worry constantly about whether or not she would have anything to eat now used the wealth she got from the yaksa to help the poor and needy in her village.

  ‘“When Siddhi saw Buddhi’s new wealth she became jealous. She thought to herself, ‘How did she become so rich? I know what I shall do. We are friends, after all, and she has always confided in me. I’ll just butter her up a bit and then ask her outright how she got so rich’ With this in mind, Siddhi went to see Buddhi. After Buddhi had properly welcomed her old friend, Siddhi asked her, ‘Friend, where did you suddenly get all this incredible wealth? From the looks of things, it seems you have found a magic wish-granting jewel! Tell me, is this the favour of the king, or have you won over some god? Did you find a buried treasure or have you discovered the alchemist’s secret? I feel rich myself, seeing all your wealth, my friend. I can bid farewell forever to this poverty that has plagued me. You and I are one in our great love for each other. We are so close to each other in our hearts that there is no difference whatsoever left between us. Surely there is nothing that we cannot tell each other. So tell me, then, where did you get all this wealth?’

  ‘“Buddhi had no idea what was really in Siddhi’s heart and so she told her the truth, how she had worshipped the yakṣa and how he had given her the wealth. When Siddhi heard all of that she jumped for joy, for she thought to herself, ‘Now I know the way for me to become rich, too. Surely there can be no harm in my doing what she has done. In fact I will worship that yakśa even more fervently than she has; that way I am sure to become even richer than she is.’

  ‘“And so it was that Siddhi began to worship that yaksa day and night, in exactly the way that Buddhi had instructed her. She adorned the staircase to the yakśa’s temple with various patterns of chalk and was constantly busying herself decorating the temple courtyard with auspicious designs, svastikas and the like, as if she were counting up, with each line she drew, the various ways in which she would display her devotion. Every day she brought water to the temple and bathed the yaksa with her own hands, having fasted and observed various restrictions to make herself suitably pure. Three times a day she worshipped the yaksa with offerings of plants and flowers that she picked herself, with basil and wood apple, karavīra and kubjikā. She ate only one meal a day and undertook various other fasts, and she never left that temple, day or night, like some demi-goddess who was madly in love with that yaksa.

  ‘“After Siddhi had worshipped the yaksa so intently for some time, the yaksa finally spoke to her. ‘Noble lady!’ he said, ‘I am pleased with the way you have worshipped me. Ask me for whatever you want.’ At that she declared to the yaksa, who had inexhaustible wealth, ‘Give me twice what you have given my friend.’ Saying, ‘So be it’, Bhola the yaksa disappeared. And in time Siddhi became even richer than Buddhi. When Buddhi saw that her friend was so rich, she went back to worshipping the yaksa, and every day the yaksa gave her twice the money that he had given her friend. Siddhi, jealous as ever, also worshipped the yaksa. When the yaksa was pleased with her, that wicked woman thought, ‘No matter what I ask from this yaksa, who is pleased and ready to grant me a boon, Buddhi will get the same thing twice over, having worshipped the yaksa herself. I must therefore ask for that boon, which when doubled will cause Buddhi great harm. That would indeed be a clever thing to do!’ And so it came to pass that she asked the yaksa to make her blind in one eye. No sooner did the yaksa say, ‘So be it’, than she became blind in one eye. Buddhi, thinking that the yaksa must have given her friend something more than she herself had, again worshipped the yaksa, wanting twice of whatever the yaksa had given Siddhi. When the yaksa was pleased with her she begged of him, ‘Give me twice what you gave to Siddhi.’ Saying, ‘So be it’, the yaksa vanished. Instantly Buddhi became totally blind, for the words of the gods always come true.

  ‘So it was that the old lady Buddhi, unsatisfied with the wealth that she had acquired and impelled by greed, caused her own ruin. Now, you have acquired worldly riches, but you say you want something even greater by becoming a monk. You will end up just like that blind old lady.’

  (from the Pariśistaparvan of Hemacandra, Ch.3)

  15

  LOBHADEVA

  The teacher Dharmanandana was known far and wide for his praiseworthy conduct; indeed, if proper conduct were likened to Mount Malaya, he would be the famous sandalwood that grows there, spreading its fragrance everywhere. Master Dharmanandana said:

  ‘That man who does not avoid greed, even though he may be free of anger and the other imperfections, still sinks deep into the ocean of transmigratory existence, like a heavy ball of iron.

  ‘Souls, wandering in the forest of transmigratory existence, are bitten by the snake of greed, which robs them of their very life, that is, their ability to distinguish right from wrong. Thus they cannot tell what is good for them from what is bad for them.

  ‘Even the best virtues disappear if a person is possessed of greed, as drops of water are repelled from the surface of a heated piece of iron.

  ‘Just as an ordinary fire is never satisfied, no matter how much fuel it is fed; just as the subterranean fire at the bottom of the ocean is never satisfied, even by all the ocean’s waters, so is a person never satisfied, no matter how much money he may have.

  ‘A person under the control of greed loses all his wealth; he even slays his friend and surely, he drowns in an ocean of grief. O King Purandaradatta, this is exactly the case with this person that you see here.’

  The king declared, ‘Blessed One! Which person do you mean, and what has he done?’

  The Blessed One replied, ‘I mean the person sitting behind you, just to the left of your minister Vāsava; that emaciated person, who is nothing but skin and bones, and who is the very incarnation of greed. Listen carefully now, O King, to what he did because he was overcom
e by greed. This is his tale.

  ‘Here on the island of Jambūdvīpa, in the central area of the land of Bharata, there is a city called Taksaśilā, which in its wealth, which is like the wealth of heaven, puts to shame the city of the gods.

  ‘With its lofty turrets, the rampart that surrounds the city makes everyone think that the thousand-headed snake Śesa has come and curled himself around the city in order better to admire its great beauty.

  ‘The wall of crystal casts its reflection in the waters of the moat, as if it were about to descend into the netherworld to marvel at the underground city, Bhogāvatī.

  ‘The people of that city could be described by the same words used to describe a splendid garden, each word being taken to mean something a little bit different. The garden has lovely jasmine flowers, while the people are of the most distinguished castes; the garden has handsome thorn apple trees, while the people are of calm demeanor; the garden always has plantain trees in blossom, while the people undertake only good deeds; the garden has many ponds, while the people have righteousness; the garden has pretty abhayā plants, while the people have nothing to fear; the garden has charming asāna trees, while the people have excellent food to eat.

  ‘The lofty mansions, made of the most costly silver, look like so many baby Mount Merus, who had come there to play.

  ‘One might think that the city of the gods was hiding in shame, having seen this splendid city, ever victorious, with its infinitely radiant beauty.

  ‘In that city there was a dharma wheel made of jewels that had a thousand spokes. It had been made by Glorious Bāhubali at the site of the footsteps of the first Jina, Rsabhanātha, the Glorious son of Nābhi.

  ‘There were many wonderful people in that city, people whose minds were filled with affection for others, and there were many outstanding ascetics, whose minds were devoid of attachments. There were wealthy men, who had excellent wives with whom they were deeply in love, and who feasted on the most sumptuous of foods; likewise, there were many sages, who were celibate, assiduously cultivating that state beyond passion, and who ate only those pure and proper foods that were permitted to ascetics.

  ‘There was a village named Uccala situated to the southwest of this city. It was a fine village, with heaps of grain. There in that village lived Dhanadeva, son of a caravan leader, a scion of a fine lineage. He passed his time amusing himself with other sons of caravan leaders.

  ‘Now this Dhanadeva was greedy by nature. He had always been an accomplished cheater, liar and thief. That was why his friends, the other sons of the caravan leaders, did not call him by his real name, Dhanadeva, but instead called him Lobhadeva, “the man whose god is Greed”. And so it was that when he was a young man in his prime, his mind was completely overcome by greed.

  ‘Now one day, driven by a desire to make money, Lobhadeva told his parents of his intentions. He made ready some fine horses and wagons and equipped himself with necessary provisions for his journey. He bade his friends farewell and then on a suitable day, when the moon was in the right zodiacal house, and the proper moment, as determined by an astrologer, had arrived, he bathed, worshipped the gods and completed the rituals that were designed to assure him of success. His face beaming with joy, he set off for the South. His relatives escorted him for a short distance. His father said to him, “I know you have studied all the texts on various subjects yourself and you do not need to be told this, anymore than a natural gemstone has to be made, or the Goddess of Learning has to be taught, or a pearl needs to be polished; still my love for you compels me to speak. O son, the place you are going to is very far away and the road is treacherous. People are deceitful and women, especially, are out to trick a man. There are many wicked people, while the good are few in number. It is not easy to protect the goods that you are carrying with you and your young age is against you. You must keep your wits about you. At times you must be wise and at times you must play the fool; at times you must be compassionate and at times you must be cruel. At times you must be courageous and at times you must be a coward. In this way you will arrive successfully at your destination.” These were the words of admonition that the father addressed to his son, who was afloat on a gentle milk-ocean of joy, tears streaming from his eyes. Lobhadeva then set out for the South and after a few days of travelling without a stop he reached the port city of Sopāraka.

  There in that city the only crookedness to be found was in the lovely eyebrows of the charming ladies, not in the hearts of people; moths may have fluttered, but no ill omens shook people’s composure; the only things to tremble were the flags flying high on the lofty mansions; no man or woman trembled in fear there. Argument was confined to philosophical debate and taxes were low; the only squeezing anyone did was the squeezing of women’s hands. All was quiet and tranquil; the only churning was of butter; the only thing ever crushed was betel nut. The people in that city were all devoted to performing good deeds and following the proper path; they strove constantly to put a Final End to transmigratory existence. What all could not be said in praise of such a city!

  ‘In that city the people were just like the god Krsna, in that the same adjectives, slightly differently interpreted, could be applied to both; while Krsna is accompanied by his mother Yaśodā, charming in every way, the people there had great compassion and their fame had spread far and wide; both Krsna and the townspeople carried out deeds that were of great benefit to others. The crowd of courtesans of the city and the righteous people were like the God Śiva, husband of Pārvatī; the courtesans all stole men’s hearts, as Śiva made Pārvatī fall madly in love with him, and the righteous people kept company with sages who were devoid of passion, as Śiva is often in the company of dispassionate ascetics.

  ‘Lobhadeva dwelt in that city for some time in the home of an elderly and virtuous merchant named Rudra. He sold his horses for a good profit and was soon eager to return home. It was customary there that merchants, whether local or foreign, would gather in the evening and in a friendly atmosphere would tell each other what they had bought and sold that day and what they had thereby earned. They would also describe the goods that they had brought from abroad. Then they would offer each other tokens of honor and friendship, betel, fragrant substances and garlands.

  ‘Now one day Lobhadeva was sitting in the merchants’ meeting when someone happened to describe how, in some country or other, he had earned a vast profit from the sale of a relatively inexpensive item. Another merchant who was present said, “I crossed the vast ocean, which is difficult to cross, and travelled all the way to Jewel Island. There I exchanged leaves of the nimba tree for jewels. I traded there for awhile and then I returned safely home.” When Lobhadeva heard about this, his mind was seized by greed. He abandoned his former intention to return home and made up his mind instead to travel further in order to accumulate even greater wealth. He went back to his lodgings. After he had bathed and eaten, he told the merchant Rudra everything that he had just heard. “Father, Rudra,” he said, “people who go to Jewel Island become very rich, for there one can get jewels in exchange for mere nimba leaves. Why shouldn’t I try to do that?” The merchant Rudra told him, “Son, the more a man desires wealth or sex, the greater his desire grows; as it is said, ‘Greed is only increased when its object is attained.’ Take what you have already earned and go home. What is more, crossing the ocean is fraught with danger. Do not be greedy. You have enough wealth; now enjoy it. Give money to help the poor and others in need. Help those of your relatives who are in trouble and in every way reap the reward of your gain. Control this demon of greed, the desire for more and more money.”

  ‘When Lobhadeva heard these words, he replied, “The Goddess of Wealth, like a woman who goes out to meet her lover, embraces that determined man who does not give up, even when his goal is difficult to attain. And so, Father, a man must be determined to see to its end a task that he has begun. Please, come with me to Jewel Island.” The merchant told him, “I cannot go. You will have to go alone.
” Lobhadeva asked, “Why can’t you come?” Merchant Rudra said, “I have crossed the ocean seven times. All seven times my ship was wrecked. I have never made a successful voyage and earned any money.” Lobhadeva said, “Look at it this way. Even the sun must rise and set every day; that is the way of all things. And that is precisely why a person must always be on the lookout for a means to acquire fortune.” To this the merchant answered, “My son, there is still one thing I must say. You must be in charge of the cargo on the ship. I clearly do not have good luck in these things.” Lobhadeva agreed to the condition.