by Andy Rotman
at shrines of a buddha.
This492 is the tribute prescribed
for the immeasurable Tathāgata,
ocean-like in perfect awakening,
the unsurpassed caravan leader.
It occurred to them: “The Blessed One has said how much merit is earned from honoring with offerings a blessed one who has passed into final nirvāṇa. But how much merit will be earned in the case of one still living?” [469]
Then the Blessed One, knowing with his mind their thoughts as well, uttered this verse:
One may honor a buddha still living
as well as one passed into final nirvāṇa.
With one’s mind equally faithful,
there is no difference in merit.
In this way buddhas are inconceivable
and the dharma of buddhas inconceivable as well.
For those who have faith in the inconceivable,493
the result is likewise inconceivable.494
It is not possible to understand the extent
of the virtues of those who are inconceivable,
of those who turn the unobstructed wheel of dharma495
of perfectly awakened buddhas.
Then the Blessed One gave a discourse on the dharma to that great crowd of people such that when they heard it, many hundreds of thousands of beings attained great distinction. Some set their minds on attaining awakening as a disciple and some on awakening as a solitary buddha; some obtained the [various levels of the] heat stage, the summit stage, and the tolerance stage, in accord with truth; some directly experienced the reward of the stream-enterer, some the reward of the once-returner, some the reward of the nonreturner, and some rid themselves of all defilements and thereby directly experienced arhatship. Almost the entire assembly became favorably inclined toward the Buddha, drawn toward the dharma, and well disposed toward the community.
And there in that place, faithful496 brahmans and householders established a festival. In time it came to be known as the Toyikāmaha (Toyikā Festival).
So ends the [Pañcakārṣakaśata-avadāna],497 the thirty-first chapter in the glorious Divyāvadāna.
32. The Story of Rūpāvatī
RŪPĀVATĪ-AVADĀNA498
A Discourse on Charity
THUS have I heard. At one time the Blessed One was staying in the city of Śrāvastī at the Jeta Grove in the park of Anāthapiṇḍada (Almsgiver to the Poor), together with a large community of monks, 1,250 in number. There the Blessed One was respected, honored, revered, and venerated by monks, nuns, male and female lay devotees, the king, royal ministers, various traders, ascetics, brahmans, wandering mendicants, townspeople, villagers, nāgas, yakṣas, antigods, heavenly birds, celestial musicians, kinnaras, and great snakes. [470] In addition, the Blessed One received an abundance of excellent provisions, both divine and human, of robes, begging bowls, bedding and seats, and medicines to cure the sick. And the Blessed One was unsullied by these, like a lotus by water.
At that time the Blessed One gained great and well-deserved fame through praises of his virtue. It was said:
The Blessed One is just like this—
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.
He himself has understood and directly experienced this [world]499 with its gods, [evil] Māra, and [lord] Brahmā, and the inhabitants of this world with their ascetics, brahmans, gods, and humans, and now he lives as a monk. He teaches the dharma that is excellent in the beginning, excellent in the middle, excellent in the end, and good in both meaning and letter. He makes perfectly clear the religious life that is complete, perfect, pure, and chaste.
Then the Blessed One addressed the monks: “And so, monks, if 500 beings were to know charity, the result of charity, and the consequence of offering charity as I know the result of charity and the consequence of offering charity,501 then they would never eat the very last remaining morsel of food all by themselves without sharing it with others.502 And the stingy thoughts that arise would not seize hold of their minds.503 But monks, those beings who do not know the result of charity and the consequence of offering charity as I know the result of charity and the consequence of offering charity eat the very last remaining morsel of food504 all by themselves, without giving it away or sharing it with others. And the stingy thoughts that arise do seize hold of their minds.”
Some monks in doubt questioned the Lord Buddha, the remover of all doubts: “It is a wonder, Bhadanta, the extent to which beggars are now dear to the Blessed One.”
“Monks, not only now, but also in the past, beggars were dear to me. Listen to this.”
Rūpāvatī Offers Her Breasts
Long ago, monks, in a time gone by, in the outskirts of the North Country, [471] there was a capital city called Utpalāvatī (Blue Waterlily Place). It was thriving, prosperous, and safe,505 with throngs of people. Then one day in the capital city of Utpalāvatī, a famine occurred—life was difficult, food was scarce, and it wasn’t easy for people to keep on living seized with the cramps of hunger.
At that time in the capital city of Utpalāvatī there was a woman named Rūpāvatī (Beautiful).506 She was beautiful, good-looking, and attractive, with an exceptionally lovely complexion.
One day, this woman Rūpāvatī507 left her home and went out for a walk in the capital city of Utpalāvatī and entered a birthing room. At that time in the birthing room, a woman was giving birth. She bore a son who was beautiful,508 good-looking, and attractive, with an exceptionally lovely complexion. This woman, pained and emaciated with hunger and ravenous at heart, grabbed the boy and wanted to eat his flesh, the flesh of her own son.509
When Rūpāvatī saw her, she said this: “Sister, what is this? What do you want to do?”
“Sister,” she said, “I want to eat. I want to eat the flesh of my son.”510
“Now sister,” Rūpāvatī said, “isn’t511 there anything to be found in your home, some food or drink, something hard or soft to eat, or something to be licked up? The word son is precious in this world.”
“No, sister, there is nothing to be found in my home. There isn’t any food or drink or anything to be consumed, there isn’t anything hard or soft or to be licked up. What is precious in this world is life.”
“Now sister, wait a minute,” Rūpāvatī said. “I’ll go home and bring back some food just for you.”
“Sister,” she said, “there is something you should know. My womb has been destroyed. The earth has split open before me.512 My heart is getting darker, and I’ve lost my bearings. No sooner will you walk out this door then the winds of life will leave me.”
Then it occurred to Rūpāvatī, “If I take her son and go, this woman, pained and emaciated with hunger as she is, will die. But if I leave her son behind and go, she’ll surely eat the boy. [472] What can I do so that both of them will survive?”
Then it occurred to her, “Even when one’s intentions are without fault, many kinds of suffering are experienced here in saṃsāra. Repeatedly in the realms of hell, repeatedly in the animal realm, repeatedly in the world of Yama, [god of death,] and repeatedly in the world of humans, hands are cut off, feet are cut off, noses are cut off, ears and noses are cut off, and various body parts, large and small, are cut off. Many other kinds of suffering are experienced as well. What benefit is there in all this for me? Instead, I should generate in myself the strength, power, and courage513 to satisfy this woman with my own flesh and blood and set this boy free.”
“Sister,” Rūpāvatī asked, “is there a knife in your home?”
“There is,” the woman said.
“Very well. Show me where it is.”
She showed her the place.
/> Rūpāvatī then took the sharp knife in hand, cut off both her breasts, and satisfied that woman with her own flesh and blood. And having satisfied the woman, she said this to her: “Sister, there is something you should know. I have now bought this boy with my own flesh and blood. I offer him back to you in trust, [but on this condition:] You are not to eat your son! Meanwhile I’ll go home and bring back some food for you.’”
“Very well,” she said, “but just for this one day, and no longer.”
Then Rūpāvatī, with her blood flowing and streaming forth, went home. Rūpāvatī’s husband saw Rūpāvatī coming from a distance, with her blood flowing and streaming forth, and upon seeing her, he said this to her: “Rūpāvatī, who disfigured you like this?”
She explained the situation in detail, and after doing so, she said this: “Dear husband, prepare some food for the woman.”
“Dear wife,” he said, “you prepare the food for her. I will perform a vow of truth: A wonderful and marvelous act such as this has never been seen or heard before! Dear wife, by this truth, this vow of truth, may both of your breasts reappear as they were before.”
At the very moment514 when that vow of truth was made, both of her breasts reappeared as they were before. [473]
Meanwhile it occurred to Śakra, lord of the gods, “This woman Rūpāvatī understands the importance of great sacrifices, and so she has performed a great sacrifice.515 Oh no! I hope this woman doesn’t cause me, Śakra, to fall from my home here.516 I really should go and test her.”
Then Śakra, lord of the gods, magically transformed himself into an eminent brahman. Taking up a golden staff and water pot, and cooling himself with a jeweled yak-tail fan with a gold handle, Śakra, lord of the gods, with the same ease that a strong man can flex and unflex his arm, disappeared from among the gods of Trāyastriṃśa (Thirty-Three) and reappeared in the capital Utpalāvatī.
While wandering for alms in the capital Utpalāvatī, Śakra, lord of the gods, approached the home of Rūpāvatī. Standing at her door, he called out for alms. Rūpāvatī took some almsfood and approached Śakra, who was in the guise of a brahman. Having approached, she offered him the almsfood. Then Śakra, lord of the gods, said this to Rūpāvatī: “Is it true, Rūpāvatī, that you sacrificed both of your breasts for the benefit of an infant boy?”
“It is true, noble brahman,” she said.
“Rūpāvatī,” he said to her, “while you were thinking, ‘I shall sacrifice both of my breasts,’ or as you were sacrificing them, or after you had sacrificed them, did any regrets come to mind?”
“No,” she said. “As I was sacrificing both of my breasts, no regrets came to mind.”
“Who in this world will believe you?” Śakra said.
“Very well then, brahman,” Rūpāvatī said, “I will perform a vow of truth: Brahman,517 while I was thinking, ‘I shall sacrifice both of my breasts,’ and as I was sacrificing them, and after I had sacrificed them, no notion to do otherwise came to mind and no regrets came to mind. Moreover, brahman,518 this truth by which I sacrificed both of my breasts was for the benefit of an infant boy. It was not for royal power, not for personal pleasure, not for reaching heaven, not for becoming another Śakra, and not for the dominion of a wheel-turning king. It was for no other reason than that I may attain unsurpassed perfect awakening and so subdue the unsubdued, liberate the unliberated, console the unconsoled, and lead to final nirvāṇa those who have not reached final nirvāṇa. By this truth, this vow of truth, may my womanhood disappear and may manhood appear instead.”519 [474]
At that very moment, Rūpāvatī’s female qualities disappeared, and male qualities appeared instead.
Śakra, lord of the gods, was pleased, excited, uplifted, delighted, and full of joy and pleasure. And right then, making use of his magical powers, he rose up into the sky and uttered this inspired utterance: “The female qualities of Rūpāvatī have disappeared and male qualities have appeared instead!”
And so the young woman Rūpāvatī came to be known as the young man Rūpāvata (Handsome).
Candraprabha Offers His Eyes
Now at one time in the capital city Utpalāvatī, a king passed away having no son. The learned chief ministers had this thought about the matter: “We need to appoint a king for the capital Utpalāvatī.” It occurred to them, “There is no one more qualified than the young man Rūpāvata—he has performed meritorious deeds and virtuous actions. So they appointed the young man Rūpāvata as the king of the capital Utpalāvatī, and there he ruled for sixty years. And having ruled the kingdom according to dharma, he passed away.
After the dissolution of his body, he was reborn in the womb of the principal wife of a certain guildmaster and householder in that very capital Utpalāvatī. After a full eight or nine months, she gave birth to a boy who was beautiful, good-looking, and attractive, with an exceptionally lovely complexion. At the time of his birth, so much light emanated from his body that the light of the moon was eclipsed by his splendor.
Then a maidservant approached the guildmaster-householder and, having approached, said this to him: “Householder, you should know that a son has been born to you who is beautiful, good-looking, and attractive, with an exceptionally lovely complexion. At the time of his birth, so much light emanated from his body that the light of the moon was eclipsed by it.”
The guildmaster-householder was pleased, excited, uplifted, and full of joy and pleasure. The very next morning he assembled those brahmans who could read signs, interpret omens, and divine the future, who were skilled in mantras controlling the earth and sky, and who knew the movements of the constellations and the planet Venus. To them, he showed his son and said, “Brahmans, you should know that my principal wife [475] gave birth to this boy who is beautiful, good-looking, and attractive, with an exceptionally lovely complexion. At the time of his birth, so much light emanated from his body that the light of the moon was eclipsed by it. Brahmans, look at the boy’s features and give him a name.”
Those brahmans who could read signs, interpret omens, and divine the future, who were skilled in mantras controlling the earth and sky, and who knew the movements of the constellations and the planet Venus, approached the boy. They looked him over and said, “This boy who has been born to you, householder, is beautiful, good-looking, and attractive, with an exceptionally lovely complexion. At the time of his birth, so much light emanated from his body that the light of the moon was eclipsed by it. Therefore let his name be Candraprabha (Moonlight).”
The guildmaster-householder fed those brahmans and saw them off, and then he presented the boy Candraprabha with four nurses—a lap nurse, a nurse maid, a wet nurse, and a playtime nurse.520
•A lap nurse is one who carries around a child on her lap and helps him to properly develop all parts of his body, large and small.
•nursemaid is one who bathes a child and cleans the dirt from his clothes.
•wet nurse is one who breastfeeds a child.
•A playtime nurse is one who knows how to get small521 and young children alike to play with a variety of toys—heads, figurines, grotesque figures,522 small baskets of kitchen implements,523 service sets,524 bamboo time-pieces,525 . . ., 526 elephants, horses, oxen, archers,527 and medicine bags full of stalks, spoons, and grass placed before them.528
Candraprabha was raised and nourished by these four nurses, and he came to possess an abundance of glory and good fortune. When the boy Candraprabha was eight years old, his parents gave him a good bath, fully anointed him, and adorned him with all kinds of ornaments. Then, along with many other boys, he was sent off to learn how to write.
One day in the writing school, five hundred boys were studying how to write. The boy Candraprabha said this to those boys: “Hey friends,529 we should all set our minds on attaining [476] unsurpassed perfect awakening.”
“Candraprabha,” they said, “what is a bodhisattva supposed to do?”
“He is to fulfill the six perfections,” he said. “Which
six?
The perfection of generosity,
the perfection of morality,
the perfection of tolerance,
the perfection of strength,
the perfection of meditation,
and the perfection of wisdom.
“That is why I give charity. I really should give charity even to those who have taken birth as animals.”
Then he took a sharp knife, honey, and clarified butter and approached one of the large cremation grounds. He cut up his body with the knife, smeared it with honey and clarified butter, and abandoned himself there to be killed.
At that time in the large cremation ground there lived a bird named Uccaṅgama (High Flying).530 He stood on Candraprabha’s body, took hold of his right eye, pulled it out, and then let go of it. And then a second time and a third, that creature Uccaṅgama took hold of Candraprabha’s right eye, pulled it out, and then let go of it.
Then Candraprabha said this to the bird Uccaṅgama: “Hey bird, what is this? You take hold of my eye, pull it out, and then let go of it?”
“There is nothing, Candraprabha, more dear to me than human eyes,”531 he said. “Candraprabha, I think532 you’ll try to stop me.”
“If a bird took hold of my eye a thousand times,” Candraprabha said, “and he pulled it out and then let go of it again, I still wouldn’t stop him.”533 After he spoke, a flock of birds gathered together and they turned Candraprabha into a fleshless pile of splintered bones. Thus he met his death.
Brahmaprabha Offers His Body
In that very capital Utpalāvatī, Candraprabha then took rebirth in the womb of the principal wife of an important brahman householder. After a full eight or nine months, she gave birth to a boy who was beautiful, good-looking, and attractive, with an exceptionally lovely complexion. At the time of his birth, so much light emanated from his body that the light of the Brahmā was eclipsed by it. So his parents gave him the name Brahmaprabha (Brahmā Light).
When the young brahman named Brahmaprabha was eight years old, he had learned all the brahmanical mantras by heart. When the young brahman Brahmaprabha became twelve years old, [477] he could instruct five hundred young brahmans534 all by himself in the recitation of mantras. When the young brahman Brahmaprabha became sixteen years old, his parents said to him, “Brahmaprabha, we’ll arrange for you to get married and settled down.”