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

by Phyllis Granoff

  ‘“Taking the jewel box, I tried to conceal myself under a thick cloak; but the king knows how to read a person’s gestures and he recognized me for the thief that I am.

  ‘“The king had me bound by the guards. I saw you as I was being led off to the execution grounds. I recognized you and sought your protection, and you caused me to be set free. There is more that I have to tell you. After you left Tāvasapura, the caravan leader Vasanta refused to eat for seven days. On the eighth day the Jain monk Jasabhadda and everyone else finally convinced him to eat. One day Vasanta went to see Kūvara and brought him some of his finest goods as gifts. Kūvara was pleased with him and gave to him lordship over Tāvasapura, along with the right to carry the royal insignia, like the umbrella. He returned to Tāvasapura to the sound of drums that filled the heavens, and there he reigns.” Damayaṃtī convinced Piṅgala to renounce the world; renunciation is the thunderbolt that cleaves the mountain of sins.

  ‘One day Damayamti’s father Bhīma heard that Kúvara had defeated Nala in a game of dice and was now sitting on his throne. He heard, too, how Nala had taken Damayaṃtī and gone into a vast forest. But no one could say where Nala was or even if he was still alive; perhaps he was dead. When Damayaṃtī’s mother Pupphadamtī heard this she began to cry; her large tears wet her breasts. Bhīma sent the Brahmin Harimitta in search of Nala and Damayaṃtī. Harimitta was skilled in performing the tasks his master asked of him, and in time he reached Acalapura and King Riupanna. Queen Candajasā asked him, “How is my sister Pupphadamtī?” Harimitta replied, “As always the queen is well, but ever since she heard how Nala and Damayaṃtī had been expelled from their kingdom she has been greatly troubled in her mind.” Candajasā asked, “What? What are you talking about?” Harimitta then told her everything about Nala’s gambling match and its consequences. Candajasā burst out crying and the courtiers cried too when they saw how she wept.

  ‘The brahmin Harimitta, seeing them all overcome by grief, was himself overcome by hunger and so he went to the poorhouse, where strangers and travellers could also go to get a meal. He sat down to eat. When he saw Damayaṃtī there in charge of the almsgiving, he felt such joy that he knew at once she must be Damayamti. He bowed down to her and said, ‘Queen! What has brought you to this state, like a creeper withered in the summer’s heat? At least you are still alive! Now everyone will rest easy.” As he spoke to her he forgot his own hunger and hastened back to Candajasā. He said to her, ‘Queen, all is well! Damayamtî is right here in your own poorhouse.’

  When she heard what Harimitta said, Candajasā ran to the poorhouse. She hugged Damayamtî tightly and exclaimed, ‘What a fool I was! I should have recognized you at once from all the auspicious marks on your body; such marks never appear on the body of an ordinary person. Daughter! Why did you not tell me who you are; you must know how much I care for you. What had you to be ashamed of in front of me? But tell me, did you abandon Nala or did he abandon you? It must have been Nala who abandoned you. If you were to forsake your husband when he was in distress, then surely the sun would rise in the west. Alas, Nala! Are you not ashamed to have abandoned this woman of such impeccable virtue? Does that befit a man of your breeding? I shall take away your suffering, Damayaṃtī. I shall make an offering to the gods to remove your pain. Forgive me that I did not recognize you. But where is the beauty mark on your forehead with its radiant glow?’ And as she asked this, Candajasā used her own saliva to wipe Damayaṃtī’s forehead.

  ‘The mark on Damayamrī’s forehead began to shine, like the sun released from the clouds, like a lump of gold just taken out of the fire.

  ‘Queen Candajasā then bathed Damayaṃtī with her own hands, as one might bathe the image of the god. She dressed her in the finest silks and then seated her by her side.

  ‘As Candajasā and Damayaṃtī sat there together with the king, the sun, light of the world, went down.

  ‘The world was coated in darkness as a pot is smeared with lampblack; but there was not a trace of darkness in the king’s court.

  ‘The king said, “The sun has set and there is no lamp here. There is no fire, either. Where does this light come from?”

  ‘The queen then showed him the birthmark on Damayamrī’s forehead, from which streamed a mass of light. Curious, the king covered it up with his hand. At once the court was enshrouded in darkness like a mountain cave. The king took his hand away. He then asked her about everything that had happened to her, beginning with her loss of the kingdom. Weeping, her head bowed low, she told him everything. The king wiped her eyes with his own upper garment and said to her, “Daughter! Do not cry. Fate affects even the gods and the anti-gods.”

  ‘Just as the king was saying this, a god came into the court, spreading light like the rays of the sun. He folded his hands in reverence and said to Damayamti, ‘I am the thief Pińgala who, following your advice, became a monk. In the course of my wanderings I went back to Tāvasapura. I meditated there in the cremation grounds. I was burnt by the flames of a funeral pyre, and intent on meditating on the doctrine, reciting to myself the prayer to the five who are worthy of honor, I confessed my sins and repented. I died and was reborn as a god. I knew my previous birth through my supernatural knowledge, and I have now come to see you, for you have helped me greatly by saving my life and making me renounce the world and become a monk. May you have much happiness.” With those words the god caused seven crores of gold pieces to rain down on Damayaṃtī and then vanished. When King Riupanna saw how the god had given them direct proof of the rewards of good deeds, he became a firm believer in the Jain doctrine

  ‘Now one day the brahmin Harimitta said to the king, “Lord, send Damayaṃtī back to her father’s house.” Candajasā agreed. And so King Riupanna sent Damayaṃtī off, accompanied by an army of elephants, horses, chariots and footsoldiers. When King Bhīma heard that she was coming, drawn to her by affection as surely as if he were being pulled by a cord, he and Queen Pupphadamtī went out to meet her. When Damayaṃtī saw her father and mother, she got off the chariot and fell at their feet in delight.

  ‘At last after longing to see each other for so long, they were finally together. The water that fell from their eyes soaked the ground and turned it into mud.

  ’Damayaṃtī embraced her mother as the river Yamunā embraces the Ganges; hanging on to her mother’s neck, she cried in loud sobs.

  ‘They washed their lotus-like faces in clean water and then proceeded to tell each other all their joys and sorrows.

  ‘Pupphadamtī took Damayaṃtī onto her lap and said, “Daughter! Stay here with us, living happily in your own home. You will see your husband again; for a person eventually sees good fortune if he lives long enough.”

  ‘The king was delighted with Harimitta and gave him five hundred villages. He ordered that the gods and teachers should be worshipped for seven days with particular fervour in thanks for Damayamtî’s return. On the eighth day he said to Damayaṃtī, “I will do something that will bring you together with Nala very soon.”

  ‘Now Nala, after he had abandoned Damayaṃtī, wandered in the forest. He saw smoke billowing out of a grove of trees. Black as a pack of bees, the smoke rose up in a solid column, like a mountain whose wings had been cut in days of old, when the king of the gods clipped the mountain’s wings; the smoke could be seen climbing higher and higher in the sky. It was like a huge cloud, with flashes of lightning that crept along the surface of the earth as from that mass of smoke leapt terrifying flames. Then the entire forest seemed to catch on fire; there was a loud popping sound as bamboos split open, while the cries of savage beasts were terrifying to hear. That was when Nala heard these words, “O Nala! Sun that makes bloom the lotus that is the Ikkhāgu clan! Save me!” Since he was by nature compassionate, Nala ran in the direction of the voice. He saw a gargantuan snake in the middle of the forest. It was now shouting at him, “Stop! Stop!” Nala was astonished; he wondered, “How does this creature know my name and my clan name? And how ca
n a snake speak with a human voice?” He threw down his upper garment in an effort to pull the snake towards him. The snake coiled its body around the cloth. Nala pulled the snake as one pulls a rope from a well; he dragged it to a place that was untouched by the forest fire. As he was about to let it go the snake bit him on the hand. Nala threw the snake on the ground and said, “I see how you repay a kind deed; I see how grateful you are to me. It is true what they say about your kind, that even if you feed a snake milk it will still bite you one day.”

  ‘Even as Nala spoke these words, the poison travelled through his body, which became bent like a living bow. Nala now looked like a demon with yellow hair; he looked like a camel with a protruding lip; he looked like a beggar with stubby hands and feet; like the elephant god Ganesa with his swollen belly. When Nala saw how hideous every part of his body had become he thought to himself, “What use is it for me to live if I look like this?. I will renounce the world and become a monk; at least that will do some good for me in my next birth.”

  ‘As Nala was preoccupied with this thought, the snake suddenly turned into a god, with hanging jewelled earrings, radiating light all around him. He said, “Do not despair. I am your father, Nisaha. I gave my throne to you and became a monk. I died and have become a god. With my supernatural knowledge I came to know what had happened to you. I magically turned myself into a snake and when you were already miserable enough, I caused your body to be deformed like this. It must have seemed to you as if I were just throwing salt on your wounds, but you must look on this as good for you, like drinking some bitter medicine. You had made all of the other kings into your servants; now when they see you deformed like this, they will never suspect that it is you and they will not cause you any harm. And you must not desire to renounce the world just yet. You must still rule over the earth. I will tell you when it is time for you to renounce the world. Now take this fruit and this jewel box and guard them with care. When you want to look like yourself again, break open the fruit. You will see garments of fine cloth inside it. Open the jewel box and there you will see some jewellery, pearl necklaces and other things. The instant you put on the fine clothes and the jewellery you will look like yourself again.” Nala asked the god what had become of Damayaṃtī. He told Nala how her great chastity had saved her many times. The god said to Nala, “Why do you wander like this in the forest? I will take you wherever you want to go.” Nala said, “Take me to the city of Suṃsumāra.” The god did as he was asked and then went back to the world of the gods.

  Nala prayed to Nemināha in the Jain temple in a garden just outside the city and then proceeded to the city gate. There he saw a mad elephant that had broken away from its post; the seat on its back was jostling to and fro as if struck by the wind; with its trunk it seemed to grab even the birds flying overhead as it trampled down a grove of trees. From the city wall King Dahivanna proclaimed, “I will give the person who can bring this elephant under his control whatever he asks of me.” Hunchback Nala declared, “Show me that mad elephant so that I can subdue it.” At that very moment the elephant appeared, trumpeting like a thundering cloud. The hunchback rushed toward the elephant. He brought the elephant under his control, skilfully parrying the thrusts of its trunk, dodging in front of it and then behind it and then to this side and that. Like a giant bird he leapt onto its back. He readjusted the ropes and swung his feet around and then struck the elephant on the temples with his fist. Then, using the elephant goad, the hunchback made the elephant go where he commanded. The people began to shout in praise of the hunchback’s victory. The king gave him a chain made of gold. Nala, having subdued the elephant, guided him back to his post. He got off the elephant and without so much as a bow to King Dahivanna, he sat right down next to him.

  ‘The king asked, “O hunchback! You clearly know how to deal with elephants. Do you know anything else?” The hunchback replied, “What shall I say? If you want to see how I can cook just with the heat of the sun, then I will show you.” At that the king went into the palace and brought out beans, rice, vegetables and spices for the hunchback. The hunchback set the cooking pot in the sunlight and meditated on a magic formula to the sun; the dish was ready. The king and his retinue ate the tasty dish, that was like something that had come from the wishing trees in heaven. The king proclaimed, “That was a masterpiece! The taste was so delicate. It was so refined! It was truly a feast for all the senses! I thought only Nala knew how to cook like this. I haven’t had food like this for a while, not since I last went to pay my humble respects to Nala. Are you Nala, then, O hunchback? But Nala was not ugly like this. And how could he have come this far along a road with so many obstacles, a distance of a hundred furlongs? And why would Nala, who rules over half of Bharaha, be alone?” The king in his delight gave the hunchback clothes and jewelery, a hundred thousand coins and five hundred villages. The hunchback accepted all of the gifts except the five hundred villages. The king asked him, “Shall I give you something else?” The hunchback replied, “If you want to do something more for me, then put an end to hunting and to drinking intoxicating drinks throughout your kingdom.” The king respected his words and did as he asked.

  ‘On another occasion the king asked the hunchback, “Who are you and where have you come from?” The hunchback replied, “My name is Humdia. I was the cook of King Nala in Kosalā. It was from him that I learned the traditional arts like cooking and taming elephants. Nala was defeated by his brother Kūvara in a game of dice and lost his kingdom. He took Damayaṃti with him and went into the forest. Nala died there. That was when I decided to come to you. I could not bear to stay with the wicked Kūvara, who was like a deep well filled with deceitful tricks.”

  ‘When King Dahivanna heard the news of Nala’s death he was so overwhelmed with grief that he could not utter a single word.

  ‘One day King Dahivanna happened to send a messenger on some friendly errand to Damayaṃti’s father.

  ‘Bhīma welcomed the messenger. As they were talking about one thing and another, the messenger just happened to say, “Nala’s cook is staying with my master. Nala taught him how to cook in the sun.” When she heard that, Damayaṃti said to her father, “Father! Send a spy and let him see what this cook looks like. Nala is the only person who knows how to cook in the sun. The man might be Nala in disguise.”

  ‘The king sent a Brahmin named Kusala, “The Skilled One”, who was indeed skilled in performing the tasks his master gave him. Kusala was to find out just what Dahivanna’s cook looked like.

  ‘He arrived in the city of Sumsumāra, his zeal for his task doubled by the good omens that accompanied him. But when he saw that the cook was a hunchback, he sat down in total despair.

  ‘Kusala thought to himself, ‘What a difference there is between this hunchback and Nala, as great a difference as there is between mighty Mount Meru and a tiny mustard seed!’

  ‘But something nagged at Kusala’s mind and so he recited this verse:

  ‘There is no one so cruel, so heartless, so cowardly as Nala, who abandoned his chaste wife Damayaṃtī as she slept in the forest at night.’

  ‘When Nala heard the verse being sung over and over again, he remembered Damayaṃtī and began to cry, his tears falling to the ground. Kusala asked him, “Why are you crying?” The hunchback replied, “When I heard your sad verse I was roused to pity and so I began to cry.” The hunchback then asked Kusala what lay behind the verse. Kusala told him everything, beginning with Nala’s dice game and ending with Damayaṃtī’s arrival in her birthplace, Vidabbha. The brahmin Kusala then said, “Hunchback! A messenger of Dahivanna said in front of King Bhīma that you know how to cook in the sun. Damayaṃtī, thinking that only Nala knows that secret, asked her father to send me to see you. But when I got here and saw you I thought to myself, ‘What a difference there is between this hideous hunchback and Nala, whose every feature, every limb, radiated charm. What a difference there is between a heron that gobbles down schools of fish and the moon that brings deligh
t to the eyes of everyone. As I was on my way here I saw many propitious omens; clearly they have not borne fruit, for you are not Nala.’” Overwhelmed by his love for Damayaṃtī, the hunchback took the messenger home with him. For it is said:

  Even a crow that has come from the direction in which the one you love dwells brings you joy; how much greater is the joy that comes from seeing a person your loved one has actually sent to you!

  ‘The hunchback asked, “What can I do to welcome you to my home, you who have told me about the great man Nala and his extraordinary chaste wife?” With those words he served the messenger dinner and honored him with the customary hospitality. He even gave him the jewellery that Dahivanna had given him for subduing the elephant.

  ‘Kusala then returned home safely to Kumdinapur. He told Bhīma all about the hunchback and how he had subdued the mad elephant. Damayaṃtī said, “Father! I am sure it is Nala. He has somehow become deformed, either through the fault of something that he ate or through his bad karma.

  ‘“This skill in taming elephants, the ability to cook in the sun, and this great generosity, all of this could not belong to anyone else but Nala!

  ‘“Father! Think of some way to bring he hunchback here so that I can see him for myself.”

  ‘Bhīma said, “Daughter! Let us pretend to organize a public ceremony for you to choose another husband. I will invite King Dahivanna. Dahivanna wanted to marry you before, but you chose Nala. When he hears that you will take a new husband he will surely come running. The hunchback will come with him. If he is really Nala then he will not stand your being given to another man. Besides, Nala knows the secret of horses. If the hunchback is Nala, then we will know from the way he drives the horses. If Nala drives the horses they will gallop with the speed of the wind. I will set the date soon. If the hunchback can come that quickly we will know he is Nala. Ordinary men cannot bear to see anyone take their wives, to say nothing of Nala!”