30. Kisā Gotamī

There is no cure for death.

Aṅguttara Commentary 225-227. S

[92] Gotamī was her family name, but because she tired easily, she was called Kisā Gotamī, or Frail Gotamī. She was reborn at Sāvatthi in a poverty-stricken house. When she grew up, she married, going to the house of her husband’s family to live. There, because she was the daughter of a poverty-stricken house, they treated her with contempt. After a time she gave birth to a son. Then they accorded her respect.

But when that boy of hers was old enough to play and run hither and about, he died. Sorrow sprang up within her. Thought she: “Since the birth of my son, I, who was once denied honor and respect in this very house, have received respect. These folk may even seek to cast my son away.” Taking her son on her hip, she went about from one house-door to another, saying: “Give me medicine for my son!”

Wherever people encountered her, they said: “Where did you ever meet with medicine for the dead?” So saying, they clapped their hands and laughed in derision. She had not the slightest idea what they meant.

Now a certain wise man saw her and thought: “This woman must have been driven out of her mind by sorrow for her son. But medicine for her, – no one else is likely to know, – the Possessor of the Ten Forces alone is likely to know.” Said he: “Woman, as for medicine for your son, – there is no one else who knows, – the Possessor of the Ten Forces, the foremost individual in the world of men and the Worlds of the Gods, resides at a neighboring monastery. Go to him and ask.” [93]

“The man speaks the truth,” thought she. Taking her son on her hip, when the Tathāgata sat down in the Seat of the Buddhas, she took her stand in the outer circle of the congregation and said: “O Exalted One, give me medicine for my son!”

The Teacher, seeing that she was ripe for conversion, said: “You did well, Gotamī, in coming hither for medicine. Go enter the city, make the rounds of the entire city, beginning at the beginning, and in whatever house no one has ever died, from that house fetch tiny grains of mustard-seed.”

“Very well, Reverend Sir,” said she. Delighted in heart, she entered within the city, and at the very first house said: “The Possessor of the Ten Forces bids me fetch tiny grains of mustard seed for medicine for my son. Give me tiny grains of mustard seed.” “Alas! Gotamī,” said they, and brought and gave to her.

“This particular seed I cannot take. In this house someone has died!”

“What say you, Gotamī! Here it is impossible to count the dead!”

“Well then, enough! I’ll not take it. The Possessor of the Ten Forces did not tell me to take mustard-seed from a house where anyone has ever died.”

In this same way she went to the second house, and to the third. Thought she: “In the entire city this alone must be the way! This the Buddha, full of compassion for the welfare of mankind, must have seen!” Overcome with emotion, she went outside of the city, carried her son to the burning-ground, and holding him in her arms, said: “Dear little son, I thought that you alone had been overtaken by this thing which men call death. But you are not the only one death has overtaken. This is a law common to all mankind.” So saying, she cast her son away in the burning ground. Then she uttered the following stanza:

No village-law, no law of market-town,
No law of a single house is this, –
Of all the world and all the Worlds of Gods
This only is the law, that all things are impermanent.

Now when she had so said, she went to the Teacher. Said the Teacher to her: “Gotamī, did you get the tiny grains of mustard seed?” “Done, Reverend Sir, is the business of the mustard-seed! [94]

Only give me a refuge!” Then the Teacher recited to her the following stanza in the Dhammapada:

That man who delights in children and cattle,
That man whose heart adheres thereto,
Death takes that man and goes his way,
As sweeps away a mighty flood a sleeping village.

At the conclusion of the stanza, even as she stood there, she became established in the Fruit of Conversion, and requested ad mission to the Order. The Teacher granted her admission to the Order. She thrice made rightwise circuit of the Teacher, bowed to him, and going to the nuns’ convent, entered the Order. Later on she made her full profession, and in no very long time, by the Practice of Meditation, developed Insight. And the Teacher re cited to her this Apparition-stanza:

Though one should live a hundred years,
Not seeing the Region of the Deathless,
Better were it for one to live a single day,
The Region of the Deathless seeing.

At the conclusion of the stanza she attained Sainthood.

31. Paṭācārā

Kinsfolk are no refuge.

Aṅguttara Commentary 213-215.

Paṭācārā was reborn at Sāvatthi in the house of a merchant. Later on, when she had grown to womanhood, she formed an intimacy with a certain laborer. Later on, about to marry a man of birth equal to her own, she hinted to that man with whom she had been intimate: “From to-morrow on you will not succeed in seeing me even with the help of a hundred doorkeepers. If you mean business, take me right now and go.”

“So be it!” said he. Taking such proper and necessary things as could be carried in the hand, and taking her with him, he retired three or four leagues from the city, and took up his residence in a certain hamlet. Later on she conceived a child in her womb. When her unborn child reached maturity, she said: “This is a forlorn place for us, husband; let’s go home.” “We’ll go [95] to-day; we’ll go to-morrow,” said he. Not daring to go, he let the time slip by. She knew his object. Thought she: “This simpleton does not intend to take me home.” When he had gone out, she made up her mind: “I’ll go home all by myself;” and started out on the road.

When he returned and saw her nowhere in the house, he asked the neighbors. Hearing, “She has gone home,” he reflected, “Because of me the daughter of a respectable family is without a protector,” and following in her footsteps, came up with her. Right there on the road she gave birth to her child. Then she said: “What we would have gone home for, has happened right on the road. If we go now, what shall we do?” They turned back.

Again she conceived a child in her womb. (All is to be related in detail precisely as before.) Only, – the very moment she gave birth to her child on the road, great clouds arose in the four quarters. She said to her husband: “Husband, clouds have arisen in the four quarters out of due season. Try to make me a place of shelter from the rain.” “So will I do,” said he. Having made a hut of sticks, he resolved, “I will fetch grass for a thatch,” and started to cut grass at the base of an ant-hill. A black snake lurking in the ant-hill bit him on the leg. In that very spot he fell.

She spent the whole night thinking: “Now he will come! now he will come!” Finally she concluded: “He must certainly have abandoned me on the road, thinking, ‘She is without a protector,’ and made off.” When it was light, she followed his footsteps, looking about, and saw him fallen at the base of the ant-hill. “On account of me my husband perished,” thought she, and wept.

Taking the younger boy on her hip, and giving the older boy her fingers to hold, she proceeded along the road. On the way seeing a certain shallow riverlet, she reflected: “If now I take both boys at the same time, I shall not be able to cross.” Causing the older boy to stand on the near bank, she carried the younger boy to the far bank and laid him in a cloth head-coil. Then, thinking, “I will get the other and cross,” she turned back again and descended into the river.

Now when she reached the middle of the river, a certain hawk, thinking, “There’s a tiny lump of meat!” approached to strike the boy with his beak. Stretching out her arm, she drove the hawk away. The older boy, seeing that movement of her arm, concluded, [96]

“She’s calling me!” descended into the river, fell into the stream, and was swept downstream. That hawk, before ever she could reach him, seized that boy and made off. Overcome with profound sorrow, she made her way along the road, singing this little song of lamentation:

Both my sons are dead;
On the road lies my husband dead.

Even as she thus lamented, she reached Sāvatthi. Though she went to the quarter of the better class, solely because of her sorrow she was unable to fix the site of her own house. She asked people by turns: “In this place there is such-and-such a family. Which is their house?” “What can you mean by asking for that family? The house where they lived was blown down by the wind, and in it they all met destruction. Indeed, the young and old of that family they are burning at this very moment. Look! don’t you see the smoke roll up yonder?”

At the mere hearing of those words, she could no longer endure the cloak she wore, but naked as ever at birth she went to the spot where stood the pyre of her kinsfolk, stretching out her arms and lamenting. And completing that song of lamentation, she wailed:

Both my sons are dead;
On the road lies my husband dead.
Mother and father and brother
Burn on one funeral-pyre.

Although someone gave her a cloth, she tore it and tore it and threw it away. And wherever she was seen, a crowd flocked about her and followed her. And because they said: “This woman goes about neglecting cloth-practice, cloth-usage ( paṭācārā ),” therefore they gave her the name Paṭācārā.

One day, while the Teacher was preaching the Doctrine to the multitude, she entered the monastery and stood in the outer circle of the congregation. The Teacher suffused her with a suffusion of loving-kindness: “Return to your right mind, sister! return to your right mind, sister!” On hearing these words of the Teacher, deep shame and fear of sin came to her. She sat down right there on the ground. A man who stood not far off tossed her his outer cloak. She put it on as an undergarment and hearkened to the [97] Doctrine. The Teacher, by reason of her conduct, recited the following stanzas found in the Dhammapada:

Sons are no refuge, nor a father, nor relatives;
To one who has been assailed by death, there is no refuge in kinsfolk.

Knowing this power of circumstances, the wise man, restrained by the moral precepts,
Should straightway clear the path that leads to Nibbāna.

At the conclusion of the stanzas, even as she stood there, she became established in the Fruit of Conversion.

32. The Heavenly Messengers

Prepare for death.

Majjhima 83: ii. 74-83.

Thus have I heard: Once upon a time the Exalted One was in residence at Mithilā, in Makhādeva Mango Grove. Now at a certain spot the Exalted One smiled. And to Venerable Ānanda occurred the following thought: “What, pray, is the cause, what is the reason, for the Exalted One’s smiling? Not without cause do the Tathāgatas smile.” Accordingly Venerable Ānanda adjusted his robe so as to cover one shoulder only, bent his joined hands in reverent salutation before the Exalted One, and said this to the Exalted One: “What, pray, Reverend Sir, is the cause, what is the reason, for the Exalted One’s smiling? Not without cause do the Tathāgatas smile.”

Part 1. Makhādeva.

In olden times, Ānanda, in this very city of Mithilā, there was a king named Makhādeva. He was a righteous king, a king of righteousness, abiding steadfast in righteousness, a mighty king. He dealt righteously with Brahmans and householders, with country folk and city folk. He kept Fast-day on the fourteenth day, on the fifteenth day, and on the eighth day of the half-month. Now, Ānanda, after many years, many hundreds of years, many thousands of years had gone by, King Makhādeva addressed his barber: “When, master barber, you see grey hairs growing on my head, pray be good enough to tell me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said the barber to King Makhādeva, giving him his word. [98]

Ānanda, after many years, many hundreds of years, many thousands of years had gone by, the barber saw grey hairs grow ing on King Makhādeva’s head. When he saw them, he said this to King Makhādeva: “The heavenly messengers have appeared to your majesty. Grey hairs are visible growing on your head.” “Well then, master barber, extract these grey hairs carefully with a pair of tongs and place them in the hollow of my joined hands.”

“Yes, your majesty,” said the barber to King Makhādeva. And in obedience to his command the barber extracted those grey hairs carefully and placed them in the hollow of King Makhādeva’s joined hands. And, Ānanda, King Makhādeva gave the barber a splendid village. Then, addressing his eldest son, the royal prince, he said this:

“Dear prince, the heavenly messengers have appeared to me. Grey hairs are visible growing on my head. But I have enjoyed the pleasures of earth; it is time for me to seek the pleasures of heaven. Come, dear prince, enter upon this kingdom. As for me, I will shave off my hair and beard, put on yellow robes, and retire from the house-life to the houseless life. Now then, dear prince, when you also see grey hairs growing on your head, then you must give your barber a splendid village, thoroughly instruct your eldest son, the royal prince, in the duties of a king, shave off your hair and beard, put on yellow robes, and retire from the house-life to the houseless life. Inasmuch as I have established this splendid succession, it is your duty to keep it going; you must not be the last man to follow me. If ever, dear prince, in the life time of two men, one uproots the succession, he is the last man of the line. Therefore, dear prince, I say this to you: Inasmuch as I have established this splendid succession, it is your duty to keep it going; you must not be the last to follow me.”

Accordingly, Ānanda, King Makhādeva, having given his barber a splendid village, having thoroughly instructed his eldest son, the royal prince, in the duties of a king, in this very Makhādeva Mango Grove shaved off his hair and beard, put on yellow robes, and retired from the house-life to the houseless life. He dwelt suffusing with thoughts of friendliness, compassion, sympathy, and indifference, one quarter, likewise a second, likewise a third, likewise a fourth. So likewise above, below, across, – everywhere, – [99] identifying himself with all things, he dwelt suffusing the all-embracing earth with thoughts of friendliness, compassion, sympathy, and indifference, – ample, far-reaching, boundless, free from enmity, free from ill-will.

Now, Ānanda, King Makhādeva for eighty-four thousand years diverted himself with the diversions of a royal prince; for eighty four thousand years exercised the functions of a viceroy; for eighty-four thousand years exercised the functions of a king; for eighty-four thousand years, in this very Makhādeva Mango Grove, having retired from the house-life to the houseless life, led the Holy Life. He cultivated the Four Exalted States, and after death, upon dissolution of the body, was reborn in the Brahmā World.

Now, Ānanda, King Makhādeva’s son and his son and his son, to the number of eighty-four thousand Warrior princes descended from him, in this very Makhādeva Mango Grove, shaved off hair and beard, put on yellow robes, and retired from the house life to the houseless life. They cultivated the Four Exalted States, and after death, upon dissolution of the body, were reborn in the Brahmā World.

Part 2. Nimi.

Nimi was the last of these kings. He was a righteous king, a king of righteousness, abiding steadfast in righteousness, a mighty king. He dealt righteously with Brahmans and householders, with country folk and city folk. He kept Fast-day on the fourteenth day, on the fifteenth day, and on the eighth day of the half-month.

In former times, Ānanda, among the gods of the Thirty-three, assembled and met together in the mote-hall Goodness, arose the following desultory talk: “O how fortunate are the Videhas, O how very fortunate are the Videhas, that they should have Nimi for their king! He is a righteous king, a king of righteousness, abiding steadfast in righteousness, a mighty king. He deals righteously with Brahmans and householders, with country folk and city folk. He keeps Fast-day on the fourteenth day, on the fifteenth day, and on the eighth day of the half-month.”

Thereupon, Ānanda, Sakka king of gods addressed the gods of the Thirty-three: “Would you wish, sirs, to see King Nimi?” [100]

“We wish, sir, to see King Nimi.” Now at that time, on that very day, on Fast-day, on the fifteenth day of the half-month, King Nimi bathed his head, took upon himself the obligations of Fast day, and went up on the terrace of his splendid palace and sat down. And, Ānanda, Sakka king of gods, just as a strong man might straighten his bent arm or bend his straightened arm, precisely so disappeared from among the gods of the Thirty-three and appeared before King Nimi. And, Ānanda, Sakka king of gods said this to King Nimi: “You are fortunate, great king! you are very fortunate, great king! Great king, the gods of the Thirty three say thus and so. Great king, the gods of the Thirty three desire to see you. Great king, I will send to you here a chariot drawn by a thousand thoroughbreds. Great king, you may mount the heavenly vehicle with never a tremor of fear.”

And, Ānanda, King Nimi gave consent by remaining silent. Then, Ānanda, Sakka king of gods, perceiving that King Nimi had given his consent, just as a strong man might straighten his bent arm or bend his straightened arm, precisely so disappeared from the presence of King Nimi and appeared among the gods of the Thirty-three. And, Ānanda, Sakka king of gods addressed the charioteer Mātali: “Come, friend Mātali, harness a thousand thoroughbreds to a chariot, and approach King Nimi and speak as follows: ‘Here, great king, is a chariot drawn by a thousand thoroughbreds, sent to you by Sakka king of gods. Great king, you may mount the heavenly vehicle with never a tremor of fear.’ ” “So be it! My best wishes!”

Thereupon, Ānanda, the charioteer Mātali, in obedience to the command of Sakka king of gods, harnessed a thousand thoroughbreds to a chariot, approached King Nimi, and spoke as follows: “Here, great king, is a chariot drawn by a thousand thoroughbreds, sent to you by Sakka king of gods. Great king, mount the heavenly vehicle with never a tremor of fear. But, great king, by what road shall I conduct you? Where those who have done evil deeds experience the fruition of evil deeds? Or where those who have done good deeds experience the fruition of good deeds?” “By all means conduct me by both roads, Mātali.”

Thereupon, Ānanda, the charioteer Mātali escorted King Nimi to the mote-hall Goodness. Now, Ānanda, Sakka king of gods saw King Nimi approaching even from afar. Seeing, he said this to [101] King Nimi: “Come now, great king; you are welcome, great king. Great king, the gods of the Thirty-three, assembled in the mote hall Goodness, uttered your praises: ‘O how fortunate are the Videhas, O how very fortunate are the Videhas, that they should have Nimi for their king! He is a righteous king, a king of righteousness, abiding steadfast in righteousness, a mighty king. He deals righteously with Brahmans and householders, with country folk and city folk. He keeps Fast-day on the fourteenth day, on the fifteenth day, and on the eighth day of the half-month.’ Great king, the gods of the Thirty-three desire to see you. Great king, take your pleasure among the gods and exercise the super natural power of a god.”

“Enough, Sire! Let Mātali conduct me right back there to Mithilā. There would I deal righteously with Brahmans and householders, with country folk and city folk; there would I keep Fast-day on the fourteenth day, on the fifteenth day, and on the eighth day of the half-month.”

Thereupon, Ānanda, Sakka king of gods addressed the charioteer Mātali: “Come, friend Mātali, harness a thousand thoroughbreds to a chariot and conduct King Nimi right back there to Mithilā.” “So be it! My best wishes!” And in obedience to the command of Sakka king of gods, the charioteer Mātali harnessed a thousand thoroughbreds to a chariot and conducted King Nimi right back there to Mithilā.

And there, Ānanda, King Nimi dealt righteously with Brahmans and householders, with country folk and city folk. There he kept Fast-day on the fourteenth day, on the fifteenth day, and on the eighth day of the half-month.

Now, Ānanda, after many years, many hundreds of years, many thousands of years had gone by, King Nimi addressed his barber: “When, master barber, you see grey hairs growing on my head, pray be good enough to tell me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said the barber to King Nimi, giving him his word.

Ānanda, after many years, many hundreds of years, many thousands of years had gone by, the barber saw grey hairs growing on King Nimi’s head. When he saw them, he said this to King Nimi: “The heavenly messengers have appeared to your majesty. Grey hairs are visible growing on your head.” “Well then, master [102] barber, extract these grey hairs carefully with a pair of tongs and place them in the hollow of my joined hands.”

“Yes, your majesty,” said the barber to King Nimi. And in obedience to his command the barber extracted those grey hairs carefully and placed them in the hollow of King Nimi’s joined hands. And, Ānanda, King Nimi gave the barber a splendid village. Then, addressing his eldest son, the royal prince, he said this:

“Dear prince, the heavenly messengers have appeared to me. Grey hairs are visible growing on my head. But I have enjoyed the pleasures of earth; it is time for me to seek the pleasures of heaven. Come, dear prince, enter upon this kingdom. As for me, I will shave off my hair and beard, put on yellow robes, and retire from the house-life to the houseless life. Now then, dear prince, when you also see grey hairs growing on your head, then you must give your barber a splendid village, thoroughly instruct your eldest son, the royal prince, in the duties of a king, shave off your hair and beard, put on yellow robes, and retire from the house-life to the houseless life. Inasmuch as I have established this splendid succession, it is your duty to keep it going; you must not be the last man to follow me. If ever, dear prince, in the lifetime of two men, one uproots the succession, he is the last man of the line. Therefore, dear prince, I say this to you: Inasmuch as I have established this splendid succession, it is your duty to keep it going; you must not be the last to follow me.”

Accordingly, Ānanda, King Nimi, having given his barber a splendid village, having thoroughly instructed his eldest son, the royal prince, in the duties of a king, in this very Makhādeva Mango Grove shaved off his hair and beard, put on yellow robes, and retired from the house-life to the houseless life. He dwelt suffusing with thoughts of friendliness, compassion, sympathy, and indifference, one quarter, likewise a second, likewise a third, likewise a fourth. So likewise above, below, across, – everywhere, – identifying himself with all things, he dwelt suffusing the all-embracing earth with thoughts of friendliness, compassion, sympathy, and indifference, – ample, far-reaching, boundless, free from enmity, free from ill-will.

Now, Ānanda, King Nimi for eighty-four thousand years diverted himself with the diversions of a royal prince; for eighty-four [103] thousand years exercised the functions of a viceroy; for eighty-four thousand years exercised the functions of a king; for eighty-four thousand years, in this very Makhādeva Mango Grove, having retired from the house-life to the houseless life, led the Holy Life. He cultivated the Four Exalted States, and after death, upon dissolution of the body, was reborn in the Brahmā World.

Now, Ānanda, King Nimi had a son named Kaḷārajanaka. He did not retire from the house-life to the houseless life. He up rooted that splendid succession. He was the last man of the line.

33. Upasāḷhakā

Cremated fourteen thousand times in one place!

Jātaka 166: ii. 54-56.

In times past, in this very city of Rājagaha, this very Upasāḷhaka was a Brahman, and this very youth was his son. At that time the Future Buddha was reborn in the kingdom of Magadha in the household of a Brahman. After perfecting himself in the various arts and crafts, he adopted the life of an ascetic and developed the Higher Powers and the Attainments. For a long time he resided in the region of Himavat diverting himself with the diversion of the Trances. Afterwards, in order that he might obtain salt and vinegar, he took up his residence in a leaf-hut on Vulture Peak.

At that time this Brahman addressed his son in the very same way, and when the son said, “You yourself point out to me the kind of place you have in mind,” the father pointed out this very place. And when the father, descending from the mountain, saw the Future Buddha, he approached the Future Buddha. And when the Future Buddha, in the very same way, questioned the Brahman and the Brahman youth, and heard the Brahman youth’s reply, he said: “Come along! we’ll find out whether the place your father pointed out is polluted or unpolluted!” And having climbed to the top of the mountain with them, when the Brahman youth remarked, “Here is the unpolluted place, between these three mountains,” the Future Buddha said:

“Youth, there is no counting the number of those whose bodies have been burned in this very place. Your very father, reborn in this very city of Rājagaha, in this very Brahman household, called by this very name Upasāḷhaka, in this very hollow among the mountains, was burned in fourteen thousand previous states of existence! For on the earth it is impossible to find a place where human bodies have not been burned, a place which has not served as a burning-ground, a place which has not been heaped and covered with human heads!” And encompassing the facts with [106] his knowledge of previous states of existence, he recited the following pair of stanzas:

Of men named Upasāḷhaka, fourteen thousand
Were burned in this place.
There is no place in this world
Which has never been touched by death.

But in what man be truth and righteousness
And non-injury and self-restraint and self-control, –
This is the goal of the Noble, –
This, in this very world
Is Deathless Absolute.

34. Ubbirī

Why weep for eighty-four thousand daughters?

Therī-gāthā Commentary No. 33.

Ubbirī was reborn in the dispensation of the present Buddha at Sāvatthi, in the family of a wealthy householder, and she was exceedingly beautiful and fair to see. When she reached woman hood, she was conducted to the house of the king of Kosala, and after a few years had passed, obtained an only daughter. To the latter they gave the name Jīvantī, or Living. The king, seeing her daughter, was pleased at heart, and conferred upon Ubbirī the ceremonial sprinkling of a queen.

But when her daughter was old enough to walk and to run hither and yon, she died. Every day the mother went to the burning-ground where her body was laid, and wept. One day she went to the Teacher, saluted him, sat down for a short while, and then departed. Standing on the bank of the river Aciravatī, she wept for her daughter.

Seeing her, the Teacher, just as he sat in the Perfumed Chamber, manifested himself to her, and asked her: “Why do you lament?” “I lament for my daughter, Exalted One.” “In this burning-ground have been burned eighty-four thousand daughters of yours. For which one of these do you lament?” And pointing out the spot where this one had been burned, where that, he uttered the first half of a stanza: [107]

You cry in the wood: “O Jīvā dear!”
Come to yourself, O Ubbirī!
In all, eighty-four thousand
Daughters of yours named Jīvā.
Have been burned in this burning-ground.
For which one of these do you lament?

After the Teacher had taught her this lesson, she extended her knowledge in conformity with the lesson, laid hold on Insight, and both by the charm of the Teacher’s lesson and by her own accumulation of causes in previous states of existence, became established in the highest of the Fruits, Sainthood. And having attained Sainthood, she made known the Specific Attainment she had attained by uttering the second half of the stanza:

Ah! he has drawn out the arrow,
So hard to find, that was in my heart.
For when I was overcome with sorrow,
He banished my sorrow for my daughter.

I here to-day am one from whom an arrow has been drawn,
I am cut off from the world, I am gone to Nibbāna.
I seek refuge in the Sage, – the Buddha,
And in the Doctrine, and in the Order.

35. Visākhā’s Sorrow

So many dear ones, so many sorrows.

Udāna viii. 8:91-92.

Thus have I heard: Once upon a time the Exalted One was in residence at Sāvatthi, in Eastern Grove, in Visākhā Mother of Migāra’s mansion. Now at that time Visākhā Mother of Migāra’s granddaughter had died, and she was Visākhā’s darling and delight. And Visākhā Mother of Migāra, garments wet, hair wet, at an untimely hour approached the Exalted One. And having approached, she saluted the Exalted One and sat down on one side. And as she sat there on one side, the Exalted One said this to Visākhā Mother of Migāra: “Well, Visākhā, how is it that you come here at such an untimely hour, approaching with garments wet, with hair wet?” “Reverend Sir, my granddaughter has died, [108] and she was my darling and delight. That is why I approach at such an untimely hour, with garments wet, with hair wet.”

“Should you like, Visākhā, to have as many children and grand-children as there are human beings in Sāvatthi?” “I should like, Reverend Sir, to have as many children and grandchildren as there are human beings in Sāvatthi.” “But, Visākhā, how many human beings die every day in Sāvatthi?” “Reverend Sir, ten human beings die every day in Sāvatthi, nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one. My granddaughter, Reverend Sir, is in no class by herself, apart from the other human beings who die in Sāvatthi.” “What think you, Visākhā? Should you ever, at any time, be without garments wet, without hair wet?” “No indeed, Reverend Sir.”

“Verily, Visākhā, they that hold a hundred dear, have a hundred sorrows;... ninety... eighty... seventy... sixty... fifty... forty... thirty... twenty... ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one. They that hold nothing dear, have no sorrow. Free from grief are they, – free from passion, free from despair. So say I.”

Whatsoever griefs or lamentations or sorrows
Are in the world, of whatsoever sort or kind,
Arise because of something that is held dear.
If nothing be held dear, these arise not.

Therefore they only are happy, they only are free from grief,
Who hold absolutely nothing in this world dear.
Therefore whoever desires to be free from grief, free from passion,
Should hold absolutely nothing in this world dear.

 

last updated: March 2016