by Andy Rotman
“Come,” the Tathāgata said to him.
With head shaved and body wrapped in robes,
he instantly attained tranquility of the senses,
and so he remained by the will of the Buddha.183
Then the Blessed One gave him instructions. After striving and straining, he came to understand that ever-turning five-spoked wheel of saṃsāra; he dealt a final blow to rebirth in all realms of saṃsāra, since they are subject to decay and decline, scattering and destruction; and by ridding himself of all defilements, he directly experienced arhatship. [282] Becoming an arhat,
he was free from attachment in the three realms;
he regarded clods of earth and gold as equal in value;
he possessed equanimity toward the sky and the palm of his hand;
he didn’t distinguish between being cut by a blade and being anointed with sandalwood paste;
the eggshell [of his ignorance] was broken by knowledge;
he obtained the special knowledges, superhuman faculties, and analytic insights;
and he was averse to worldly attainments, temptations, and honors.
He became worthy of respect, honor, and obeisance from the gods, including Indra and Upendra.
Some monks in doubt asked the Lord Buddha, the remover of all doubts, “Bhadanta, what deed did the venerable Jyotiṣka do such that he was placed on a funeral pyre, divine-like glory appeared to him, and he eventually went forth as a monk in the Blessed One’s order, where by ridding himself of all defilements, he directly experienced arhatship?”
“Monks,” the Blessed One said, “the deeds that Jyotiṣka himself has performed and accumulated have now come together,184 and their conditions have matured. They remain before him like an oncoming flood and will certainly come to pass. Those deeds were performed and accumulated by Jyotiṣka. Who else will experience their results? For those deeds that are performed and accumulated, monks, do not mature outside of oneself—neither in the element of earth nor in the element of water, in the element of fire or in the element of wind. Instead, those deeds that are performed and accumulated, both good and bad, mature in the aggregates, the elements, and the sense bases that are appropriated when one is reborn.
Actions never come to naught,
even after hundreds of millions of years.
When the right conditions gather and the time is right,
then they will have their effect on embodied beings.
Vipaśyin, King Bandhumān, and the Householder Anaṅgaṇa
Long ago, monks, in the ninety-first age, there arose in the world a teacher named Vipaśyin (Insightful),
who was a tathāgata,
an arhat,
a perfectly awakened being,
perfect in knowledge and conduct,
a sugata,
a knower of the world,
an unsurpassed guide for those in need of training,
a teacher of gods and humans,
a buddha,
and a blessed one.
Wandering through the countryside surrounded by sixty-two thousand monks, he arrived at the capital Bandhumatī (Ancestral Home), and in Bandhumatī he stayed in the Bandhumatīyaka (Ancestral Homeland) Forest.
At that time in the capital Bandhumatī, a king named Bandhumān (Rich in Relations) ruled a kingdom that was thriving, prosperous, and safe, with plenty of food and throngs of people, that was free from quarrel and strife, with no hustle and bustle, thieves, or diseases, that was rich in rice, sugarcane, cattle, and buffalo. He was a just and virtuous king, and he ruled according to dharma. [283]
And in that capital there was a householder named Anaṅgaṇa (Sinless),185 who was rich, wealthy, and prosperous, with vast and extensive holdings, who had amassed a wealth like the god Vaiśravaṇa. Truly, he rivaled Vaiśravaṇa in wealth. “I have invited the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin to my home many times and served him food,” the householder Anaṅgaṇa reflected, “but I’ve never offered him all the necessary provisions for the three months of the rainy season. I really should offer the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin all the necessary provisions for the three months of the rainy season.” With this in mind, he approached the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin and, having approached, placed his head in veneration at the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin’s feet and then sat down at a respectful distance.
The perfectly awakened Vipaśyin instructed, incited, inspired, and delighted the householder Anaṅgaṇa, who was seated at a respectful distance, with a discourse on the dharma. After he instructed, incited, inspired, and delighted him in many ways with this discourse on the dharma, he became silent.
The householder Anaṅgaṇa then got up from his seat, properly arranged his robe on one shoulder, bowed toward the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin with his hands respectfully folded, and said this to him: “May the Blessed One, along with the community of monks, accept my offering of enough provisions of robes, begging bowls, bedding and seats, and medicines to cure the sick to last the three months of the rainy season.”
With his silence, the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin accepted the householder Anaṅgaṇa’s invitation. Then the householder Anaṅgaṇa, realizing that by his silence the Blessed One had accepted his invitation, placed his head in veneration at the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin’s feet, got up from his seat, and departed.
King Bandhumān heard that the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin, after wandering through the countryside surrounded by sixty-two thousand monks, had now arrived at Bandhumatī, and that in Bandhumatī he was staying in the Bandhumatīyaka Forest. When he heard this, it occurred to him, “I have invited the Blessed One to my home many times and served him food, but I’ve never offered him all the necessary provisions for the three months of the rainy season. I really should offer the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin all the necessary provisions [for those three months].”186 With this in mind, he approached the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin and, having approached, placed his head in veneration at the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin’s feet and then sat down at a respectful distance. [284]
The Blessed One instructed, incited, inspired, and delighted King Bandhumān, who was seated at a respectful distance, with a discourse on the dharma. After he instructed, incited, inspired, and delighted the king in many ways with this discourse on the dharma, he became silent.
King Bandhumān then got up from his seat, properly arranged his robe on one shoulder, bowed toward the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin with his hands respectfully folded, and said this to him: “May the Blessed One, along with the community of monks, accept my offering of enough provisions of robes, begging bowls, bedding and seats, and medicines to cure the sick to last the three months of the rainy season.”
“Your majesty, the householder Anaṅgaṇa invited me before you did.”
“Then may the Blessed One accept that I will do as the householder Anaṅgaṇa permits.”
“Your majesty, if the householder Anaṅgaṇa gives you permission, then I will give you permission as well.”
King Bandhumān then placed his head in veneration at the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin’s feet, got up from his seat, and departed. He returned to his home. King Bandhumān then had a messenger say this to the householder Anaṅgaṇa: “Householder, please be informed that I will feed the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin before you. Afterward, there won’t be any problem for you to feed him.”
“My lord,” the householder Anaṅgaṇa replied, “I invited the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin before you. I myself will feed him.”
“Householder, that may be the case,” the king said, “but you still live in my kingdom. Shouldn’t I be entitled to feed him before you?”
“My lord, although I live in your kingdom, whoever invited him first should still feed him. In this instance, my lord’s demand isn’t proper.”
“Householder, I’m not giving you a choice. Nevertheless, whoever can defeat the other by preparing better food can feed the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin for the rest of the rainy season.”<
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“As you wish,” the householder Anaṅgaṇa replied, consenting to his proposal.
That very night the householder Anaṅgaṇa prepared hard and soft foods, both fresh and fine, and then at daybreak he got up, [prepared the seats,]187 and set out pitchers of water. Then he had a messenger inform the Blessed One that it was now the appropriate time: “It is time, Bhadanta. The food is ready. Now the Blessed One may do as the time permits.” [285]
Later in the morning the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin got dressed, took his bowl and robe, and surrounded by the community of monks, approached the place where the householder Anaṅgaṇa was offering food. Having approached, he sat down in front of the community of monks in the seat specially prepared for him.
Now when the householder Anaṅgaṇa was sure that the community of monks led by the Buddha was comfortably seated, he served and indulged them, with his own hands, with hard and soft foods, both fresh and fine. When he had served and indulged them, with his own hands, with many courses of hard and soft foods, both fresh and fine, and was sure that the Blessed One had finished eating, washed his hands, and set aside his bowl,188 he then sat down in front of the Buddha, taking a lower seat, to listen to the dharma.
The perfectly awakened Vipaśyin then instructed, incited, inspired, and delighted the householder Anaṅgaṇa with a discourse on the dharma. After he instructed, incited, inspired, and delighted him in many ways with this discourse on the dharma, Anaṅgaṇa departed.
King Bandhumān likewise fed him—and here the very same text is to be supplied in full.189 Yet in no way did King Bandhumān defeat the householder Anaṅgaṇa by preparing better food. King Bandhumān sat lost in thought, with cheek in hand.
“My lord,” the ministers said, “why do you sit there lost in thought, with cheek in hand?”
“Gentlemen,” he said, “why shouldn’t I sit here lost in thought? I can’t even defeat an ordinary householder who lives in my kingdom by preparing better food!”
“My lord,” they said, “this householder doesn’t own any firewood. Just prevent any firewood from being sold.”
The king had bells rung for the following proclamation: “Friends, no one is to sell firewood to the inhabitants of my kingdom. Whoever sells it to them shall be banished from my kingdom.”
The householder Anaṅgaṇa began to prepare food with [luxurious] fragrant wood.190 He also drenched some cloth in fragrant oil and with it rubbed the cakes [that he had prepared to give them a nice fragrance].191 The entire city of Bandhumatī was suffused with a sweet smell.
“Gentlemen,” King Bandhumān asked, “where does that pleasing smell come from?”
They explained the situation to him in detail.
“I shall do the same as well,” he said. “Can’t I afford to do so?” [286]
“My lord,” his ministers said, “what’s the use of doing that? This householder will soon die, and he has no son. All that he has earned and inherited will belong to my lord. Allow firewood to be sold.”
So the king allowed firewood to be sold.
The householder Anaṅgaṇa heard that the king once again allowed firewood to be sold. Polluting his mind with bad thoughts, he uttered harsh words: “Now that there’s firewood for cooking food, I can stick him and his ministers on a funeral pyre and torch them both!”
Meanwhile, with cheek in hand, the king sat lost in thought.
“My lord,” the ministers said, “why do you sit there lost in thought, with cheek in hand?”
He explained the situation to them in detail.
“My lord,” they said, “don’t despair. We’ll fix it so that my lord defeats the householder Anaṅgaṇa.”
The next day the ministers had the capital Bandhumatī cleared of stones, pebbles, and gravel; sandalwood-scented water was sprinkled about; small pots of fragrant incense were lined up; rows of silk banners were hung; flags and banners were raised; and various flowers were scattered about so that it looked like the divine Nandana Grove or a heavenly park. A circular courtyard192 was also built, which was as beautiful as what it enclosed, and in it seats were prepared, which were made beautiful by seat covers that were adorned with many kinds of jewels. In addition, the ministers had food prepared that was soft, pure, and sweet smelling, as well as various rice dishes and condiments, all of which were pleasing like divine ambrosia and fit for the teacher of the three worlds.
The ministers then informed King Bandhumān, “My lord, the food is now as beautiful as the city. Rejoice!”
When King Bandhumān saw all this, he was in awe. His mind was overcome with astonishment. Then he had a messenger announce to the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin that it was now the appropriate time: “It is time, Bhadanta, the food is ready. Now the Blessed One may do as the time permits.”
Later in the morning the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin got dressed, took his bowl and robe, and leading the community of monks that surrounded him, approached the place where King Bandhumān was offering food. Having approached, he sat down in front of the community of monks in the seat specially prepared for him. King Bandhumān’s auspiciously anointed elephant [287] carried a hundred-ribbed umbrella over the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin’s head, and the remaining elephants did likewise for the monks. King Bandhumān’s chief queen fanned the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin with a golden yak-tail fan encrusted with jewels, and the remaining women of the palace did likewise for the remaining monks.
The householder Anaṅgaṇa sent a spy with these instructions: “My friend, go and see what kind of food King Bandhumān is feeding the community of monks led by the Buddha.” When the spy went and saw those riches, he stood there transfixed, his mind filled with wonder. Anaṅgaṇa likewise sent a second spy, and then a third, who also went and stood there transfixed.
The householder Anaṅgaṇa then went in person. When he saw those riches, he was despondent. “I could arrange another feast,” he reflected, “but I don’t have elephants or a palace full of women. Where would I find that kind of wealth?” With this in mind, he went home and addressed his gatekeeper: “My friend, if any supplicant comes, give him what he asks for but don’t let him enter.” With that said, he entered the grieving chamber to console himself, and there he remained.
Now Śakra, lord of the gods, can look and come to know what is below him.193 He reflected, “The perfectly awakened Vipaśyin is the best of those who are worthy of offerings in the world, and the householder Anaṅgaṇa is the best of donors. The householder should be helped.” With this in mind, Kauśika magically transformed himself so that he had the appearance of a brahman and then approached the householder Anaṅgaṇa’s home. Having approached, he addressed the gatekeeper: “Sir, go and tell the householder Anaṅgaṇa that a brahman from the Kauśika clan is standing at the door and wants to see him.”
“Brahman,” he said, “the householder has posted me [here with instructions that] any supplicant who comes should be given what he asks for but can’t enter. Take what you want and go. What good will it do you to see the householder?”
“My friend,” he said. “I don’t need anything. I just want to see the householder in person. Now go.”
He went and informed the householder Anaṅgaṇa, “Sir, a brahman from the Kauśika clan is standing at the door. He wants to see you.”
“Go, my friend,” he said. “Give him whatever he wants. What good will it do him to enter here?”
“Sir,” he said, “I told him that. He said that he wasn’t asking for anything but that he just wants to see the householder in person.” [288]
“My friend,” he said, “if that’s the case, then send him in.”
He sent him in.
Then the brahman asked, “Householder, why do you sit here lost in thought, with cheek in hand?”
The householder uttered this verse:
One shouldn’t disclose one’s grief to someone
who won’t release him from that grief.
One should only disclose one’s
grief
to someone who’ll fully release him from that grief.
“Householder,” Śakra said, “what grief do you have? Tell me. I can release you from that grief.”
He explained the situation to him in detail.
Then Śakra, lord of the gods, cast off his appearance as a Kauśika brahman and, standing in his natural form, said, “Householder, the divinely born Viśvakarman will offer you assistance.” With that said, he departed.
Then Śakra, lord of the gods, went to the gods of Trāyastriṃśa (Thirty-Three) and addressed the divinely born Viśvakarman: “Viśvakarman, go and offer assistance to the householder Anaṅgaṇa.”
“Yes, Kauśika,” the divinely born Viśvakarman replied, consenting to the request of Śakra, lord of the gods. “And all the best to you.” Then he came to Bandhumatī.
He magically transformed the city so that its beauty was even more sublime; he created a divine circular courtyard; he set aside a divine seat; and he prepared divine food. [The householder then fed the community of monks led by the Buddha. Indra’s mount,] the elephant-king Airavaṇa, carried a hundred-ribbed umbrella over the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin’s head, and the remaining elephants did likewise for the remaining monks. [Indra’s wife,] the divine maiden Śacī, fanned the perfectly awakened Vipaśyin with a golden yak-tail fan encrusted with jewels, and the remaining nymphs did likewise for the [remaining] monks.
King Bandhumān sent a spy with these instructions: “My friend, go and [see]194 what kind of food the householder is serving to the community of monks led by the Buddha.” When the man went there and saw those riches, he stood there transfixed. The king then sent a minister. He too stood there transfixed. He sent the prince. He too stood there transfixed. Then King Bandhumān went in person and stood at the gate.
The perfectly awakened Vipaśyin said, “Householder, King Bandhumān has seen the truth.195 You committed an act of harsh speech toward him.196 Now he stands in person at the gate. Go and ask for forgiveness.”
