‘Bhīma thus sent a messenger to Dahivanna. The messenger announced to him that Damayaṃtī would choose a new husband on the fifth day of the bright half of the month of April. Dahivanna thought to himself, “I want Damayaṃtī, but Vidabbhā is far away. The fifth is tomorrow. I can never get there by then. What can I do?” Dahivanna was agitated, like a fish tossing about in the shallows. The hunchback thought, “Damaya·tī is the most chaste woman; she would never desire another man. And even if she did, what man could have her while I am still alive? I will see to it that Dahivanna gets there in twenty-four hours; he can watch the goings on, but I will also get to see for myself what is happening.”
‘The hunchback said to King Dahivanna, “What is bothering you? Tell me what is on your mind. A sick person cannot get treatment if he does not tell anyone what ails him.” The king said,
“Nala has entered the city of the gods, and Damayaṃtī will now choose another husband. I want Damayaṃtī, but Vidabbhā is far away. There are only twenty-four hours left.
It took the messenger days to reach here. How can I get there in such a short time? This thought is driving me crazy; it leaves me no peace.” The hunchback said, “Give me a chariot yoked with your finest horses and I will get you there by tomorrow morning.” The king thought to himself, “Clearly this hunchback is no ordinary mortal; he must be some demi-god or god,” and so he gave him the chariot he had asked for. King Dahivanna made the chariot ready and then told Nala to get on.
‘Five men, the king, his betel-leaf carrier, his umbrella bearer and two chowry bearers mounted the chariot; the hunchback was the sixth.
‘The hunchback tied the fruit and the jewel box in a corner of his waist cloth; then praying to the Jinas and the monks, he stirred the horses on.
‘The chariot began to fly, its fine horses driven on by Nala, who knew the secret of horses; it was like a chariot of the gods, set in motion by the gods’ mere thoughts.
‘Dahivanna’s scarf fell, blown about by the wind that the chariot raised, as if he had taken it off to make a gift of it to Nala in appreciation for his help.
Dahivanna told the hunchback that the scarf had fallen, but the hunchback only smiled and said in return, “O king! Where is your scarf? The chariot has already gone twenty five furlongs since your scarf dropped. In fact these horses are just average; if they had been the best, then we would have gone fifty furlongs in that space of time.”
‘Dahivanna pointed to a fig tree and boasted, “I call tell you the number of fruits on that tree without even counting them. On the way back I will show you.” The hunchback said, “With me as your charioteer you do not have to worry about losing a few minutes. With one blow of my fist I can bring all of those fruits to the ground.” The king said, “Then see for yourself what a marvellous skill I have. Bring the fruit down. There are eighteen thousand fruit on the tree.” The hunchback made the fruits fall to the ground with one blow of his fist. Dahivanna counted them; there were exactly the number that he had said there would be. The hunchback was impressed and imparted to Dahivanna his secret knowledge of horses. In return Dahivanna gave him the secret knowledge of counting fruits. As dawn broke they reached the outskirts of the city Kumdinapura: King Dahivanna was beaming with joy.
‘At that very moment, in the last hours of the night, Damayaṃtī had a dream. She dutifully reported the dream to her father. “I saw the Goddess of Perfect Peace in the sky; she was bringing the garden of Kosalī right here. She told me to climb a mango tree that was laden with fruit and flowers and I did. The goddess gave me a beautiful lotus. There was a bird that had alighted on the tree before; it suddenly fell from the tree.” Bhīma said, “Daughter! This is a propitious dream. The Goddess of Perfect Peace is the ripening of all your meritorious deeds. The garden of Kosalā is the acquisition of the kingdom of Kosalā. Climbing the mango tree is your union with Nala. The fall of the bird that had climbed the tree before is the fall of Kūvara from the throne. Since you saw this dream early this morning, it means that you will be reunited with Nala on this very day.”
‘Indeed at that very moment Dahivanna was at the city gate. The servant whose task it was to announce good news informed Bhīma of his arrival. Bhīma rushed to meet him and embraced him as a friend. He gave him excellent quarters in which to lodge. He then offered him the customary gestures of hospitality, a meal and so on. This done, Bhīma said to him, “I hear you have a cook who can cook in the heat of the sun. Show him to me.” Dahivanna ordered the hunchback to make something for Bhīma. In the twinkling of an eye the dish was ready, as if it had come ready made from one of the wishing trees in heaven. At Dahivanna’s urging King Bhīma and his retinue tasted the hunchback’s cooking. Bhīma then sent a bowl filled with Nala’s cooking to Damayamatī so that she could try it. As soon as she tasted it she knew for sure, that the hunchback was Nala. She said, “A monk who was a storehouse of knowledge once told me, ‘In the entire continent of Bharaha there is no one besides Nala who knows how to cook in the sun.’ This must be Nala. There must be some reason why he has become a hunchback. One test of Nala’s identity is cooking, but there is another one. At his slightest touch, even just the touch of his finger tip, my whole body responds with joy. Let the hunchback touch me with his finger. Let us see if he passes this test, too.” They asked the hunchback, “Are you Nala?” He replied, “Think of Nala with his handsome broad chest and look at me, a hunchback, ugly enough to make people’s eyes smart when they see me!” But Damayaṃtī was insistent, and when the hunchback just brushed his finger against her chest, with just that slightest touch of his finger, Damayaṃtī’s whole body trembled with joy. Damayaṃtī said to him, “My beloved, you abandoned me while I slept, but now you are mine. Where can you go now?” And with those words she led him into her room. She begged him, “Let me see you as you really are.” Nala then took the clothes and jewels from the fruit and jewel box and turned back into himself. When Damayaṃtī saw him she was delighted; as a creeper clings to a tree, she wrapped herself around him in a tight embrace.
‘Bhīma too realized the hunchback was Nala and he seated him on his own throne. He declared, “You are my master. I await your command,” and stood before Nala with hands folded in reverence. Dahivanna then said to Nala, “Forgive me. I did not know that you were the king; forgive me for ordering you around in my ignorance.” Damayaṃtī sent for King Riupanna along with Queen Candajasā. She also sent for Sirisehara, ruler of Tāvasapura. Bhīma welcomed them all with proper ceremony.
‘One morning as they were all gathered in Bhīma’s court, a god came to them, rays of light streaming from his body. He bowed his hands in reverence and said this to Damayamti, “I am the chief of the ascetics whom you awakened to the truth of the Jain doctrine. Through the great powers of the Jain doctrine when I died I was reborn as a god.” He caused to rain down on Damayaṃtī a rain of seven crores of gold pieces and then went home. Together Bhīma, Dahivanna, Vasanta and the other rulers consecrated Nala as king. Nala commanded them to gather their armies. Surrounded by these fighting forces Nala reached the city Kosalā, with his mighty elephants trumpeting, the sky thick with the dust raised by the hooves of the horses, and the sounds of his chariot wheels ringing in the ears of his frightened enemies. He sent a messenger to Kūvara with these words, “Nala has come to see you. He is just outside the city of Aujjhā.” When Kūvara heard that Nala had arrived, his body felt like it was burning up with fire.
‘Nala spoke to Kūvara through the messenger, saying, “Fight with me now. Either you will have my royal glory or I will have yours.”
‘Kūvara, afraid to meet Nala in battle, proposed instead another game of dice. He lost everything to Nala, who had acquired much merit.
‘Virtuous Nala knew that Kūvara was cruel, but he bore him no ill-will. Out of regard for the fact that Kūvara was his younger brother, Nala appointed him as crown prince, as he might have appointed his own son.
‘Having won back his kingdom, King Nala accompani
ed by Damayaṃtī eagerly went to pray in the Jain temples of Aujjhā.
‘Nala ruled over half of Bharaha for many thousands of years; kings and princes bowed down at his feet and brought him gifts of tribute.
‘One day the radiant and splendid God who had been Nisaha, Nala’s father, saw that Nala was distracted by his many pursuits of the pleasures of the senses. He went to Nala and rebuked him:
‘“Can you call yourself a man, worthy of that designation, when you do not even protect yourself from being robbed of your wisdom by passion and the other vices, that are like so many thieves?
‘“I promised you once that I would tell you when it was time for you to renounce the world. And so I tell you now, “Pick the fruit of the tree of having been born as a human being; become a monk.”’
‘Having said these words the god vanished. The Jain monk Jinabhadda arrived on the scene, a treasure house of jewels in the form of pure knowledge.
‘Nala went with Damayaṃtī and paid his respects to the monk. He sat down in front of the monk, and then folding his hands in reverence, he asked him, “Blessed One! What did we do in a previous life that we enjoyed ruling over this kingdom, lost it and then regained it again?”
‘The teacher said, “Listen, my son. Here on Jambūdvīpa, in the continent of Bharaha, near Mount A⃛⃛hāvaya there is a city named Samgara, ‘Battle’, which has really never seen battle with an enemy army. There reigned King Mammana, who had romanced all the Ladies of the Four Directions. He had a queen named Vīramaī. One day the king, who had set out to go hunting, happened to see a Jain monk who was travelling in the company of some traders. The monk was like religion incarnate; he was calm and tranquil, endowed with all of the virtues of a monk, contentment and the others. The king thought, ‘This monk is a bad omen for me; he will bring me bad luck in the hunt.’ He snatched the monk from the company of traders, as one might snatch an elephant from its herd. The king took him home with him. For a good twelve hours the monk was treated with contempt in the king’s palace. Then the king and queen took pity on the monk and asked him, ‘Where did you come from? Where are you going?’ The monk said, ‘I set out from the city Rohīdaka with this caravan to worship the images of the Jinas that adorn Mount A⃛⃛hāvaya.’ As soon as they heard these words, the king and the queen were no longer angry; they were like poisonous snakes that lose their poison when the snake charmer recites his spell. Because the monk knew that they were destined for release, he taught them the Jain doctrine, which stresses compassion for all living beings. They had never heard the Jain doctrine before in their lives, and so their faith in it was still slight. They gave the monk food and water to break his fast. He stayed with them for some time, but eventually having imparted to them knowledge of the Jain doctrine, as one might give medicine to the sick, the monk left for Mount Atthāvaya.
“‘The king and queen, having been awakened to the truth by contact with that monk, carried out their religious duties with the care that the miser lavishes on protecting his money. One day the Protecting Goddess of the Faith took Queen Vīramaī to Mount Atthāvaya in an effort to strengthen her faith. There she felt the greatest pleasure as she beheld the images of the Jinas that were worshipped by the gods and the anti-gods, and that were encrusted with various kinds of jewels, each image of a prescribed size and color. She worshipped the images and then returned to her city. Vīramaī was filled with faith after seeing this great holy place, and she undertook a series of twenty fasts in honor of each Jina.
“‘Vīramaī then had an exquisite pair of images made for each of the twenty-four Jinas; they were all of gold and adorned with precious gems.
“‘On another occasion she and her retinue went to Mount Atthāvaya and worshipped the Jina images, bathing them, smearing them with unguents and making offerings to them and performing other ritual acts.
“‘With great faith in her heart she painted beauty marks on the foreheads of the Jina images; those marks shone like flowers on the tree of her merit.
“‘She gave gifts to the monks who visited the holy place on special days and in this way helped support the ascetic community.
“‘Then thinking that she had made her human birth worthwhile and that she had made her wealth worth having and her life worth living, Vīramaī would return to her city.
“‘Much time passed thus for the king and queen, who though two in body were one in mind, utterly devoted to the Jain religion.
“‘Because all living things must die, in time they died a pious death of fasting and meditating. King Mammana became a god. Queen Vīramaī followed him in death and became his wife in heaven, too. After all, how long does the moonlight last once the moon has set?
“‘In time the soul of Mammana fell from heaven and was born right here in Jambûdvûpa, in the city Poyana, ornament of the land of Bahali. He was born as Dhanna, the son of the Ābhīra cowherd Dhammilāsa and his wife Renuya, and he was endowed with every fine virtue.
“‘The soul of Vīramaī was reborn as his wife; her name was Dhūsari. Dhanna would take his herd of buffaloes out to graze. One day in the rainy season it began to rain; Dhanna took an umbrella and went to put his buffaloes to pasture.
“‘Dhanna went into a forest; there he saw a Jain monk, emaciated from all of his fasts, standing in meditation, as still and unmoving as a mountain.
“Filled with faith, he held his umbrella over the head of the monk and thus prevented the rain from disturbing the ascetic. When the rain stopped, Dhanna bowed down to the monk and asked him, ‘Where have you come from?’
The monk answered, ‘Sir! I have come from the Pamdu country. I was on my way to the city Lankī to pay my respects to my teacher, who had gone to Lankī. It has been raining for seven days and seven nights, and so I have not been able to travel onward.’
“‘Dhanna said, “Lord! The ground is now muddy and it is difficult to travel. Come now into the city; you may ride on one of my buffaloes.”
‘“The monk said, “Ascetics are not permitted to ride on animals.” The ascetic then went with Dhanna into the city. Dhanna said to him, “Wait here for a moment. I’ll just get some milk from my house and be right back.”
“‘Dhanna hastened to his house and quickly returned with the milk. Filled with devotion, he gave the great ascetic milk to drink to break his fast.
“‘Dhanna and his wife both formally accepted the duties of being lay Jains under the guidance of that monk. The monk stayed right there in the city of Poyana for the rest of the rainy season.
“‘Later on Dhanna and his wife Dhīsarī both went to another place, where they lived for a long time. Having observed with care the duties incumbent upon lay Jains, they later renounced the world.
“‘Dhanna was a Jain monk for seven years before he died with his wife. With their strong love for each other they were reborn together as twins on the distant continent Hemavaa.
‘“They died and then the soul that was Mammana was reborn as a god; his wife was reborn again as the same type of god as he.
“‘When Dhanna fell from heaven that time, he was reborn as you, Nala, O lord of men! Dhīsari was reborn as your beloved, Damayaṃtī.
“‘Because in a previous life you made gifts to a Jain monk and accepted the duties of the Jain laity, in this life you were both handsome and a king over a kingdom. Damayaṃtī, as a result of the religious deeds she performed, has been reborn as your wife. No one could harm her because of the great power of her austerities and her worship of the Jina images, on which she once painted beauty marks.
“‘But because you caused trouble to a Jain monk for twelve hours, you lost your throne for twelve years.’”
‘When King Nala heard what the monk had said, he was seized by a feeling of disgust for worldly desires and gains. He installed his virtuous son Pukkhala on the throne and along with Damayaṃtī he renounced the world to become a monk under the guidance of this teacher.
‘He studied the sacred texts, practiced austerities and endur
ed the typical hardships a monk must endure: hunger, thirst, insects, cold and heat. But because karma works in such strange ways, and because passion is so difficult to overcome, the monk Nala again felt desire in his mind for Damayaṃtī.
‘The elder monks rejected him, but his father came and awakened him to the truth. Unable to keep his vows, Nala renounced all food and undertook a fast to death.
‘Damayaṃtī, ever devoted to Nala, died along with him. Nala was reborn as the god Kubera and Damayaṃtī was reborn as his wife.
‘Because they did not strictly keep their monastic vows they were reborn as only minor gods. Both of them will eventually fall from that godly realm; they will destroy their karma and obtain Final Liberation.’
The Forest of Thieves and the Magic Garden: An Anthology of Medieval Jain Stories (Penguin Classics) Page 22
