11.5 The Story about the Elder Janapada Kaḷyāṇī Rūpanandā
Janapadakalyāṇirūpanandattherīvatthu

Dhp 150

CST4: Janapadakalyāṇī Rūpanandātherīvatthu

Burlingame: The Nun and the Phantom

Compare: Dhp-a 24.5; AN-a 14.5.4.6; Thīg-a 41; Thīg-a 52 BG: On the literary relations of all these stories, see Introduction, § 7d, pages 48-51.

The Buddha caused Elder Rūpanandā, who was proud of her beauty, to see an image of a very beautiful woman quickly go through the stages of life, die, and be eaten by animals, and she gained insight into the nature of the body; the Buddha then spoke a verse.

Keywords: Decay, Bhikkhunīs, Old Age, Sickness, Death, Meditation, Insight

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This fortress is made out of bones,” [29.336] {3.113} this Dhamma teaching was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the Elder Janapada Kaḷyāṇī Rūpanandā.

It seems that one day she thought to herself: “My eldest brother has renounced the glory of dominion, has gone forth, and has now become the foremost being in the world, even the Buddha; his son, Prince Rāhula, has gone forth; my husband has gone forth; so also has my mother gone forth. Seeing that all these kinsfolk of mine have adopted the spiritual life, why should I continue any longer to live the household life? I too will go forth.” Accordingly she went to the community of bhikkhunīs and went forth, not at all because of faith, but solely because of love for her kinsfolk. Because of her wondrous beauty, she became known as Rūpanandā (Joyous Form).

One day she heard that the Teacher had said: “Beauty of form is impermanent, suffering, non-self; so likewise are sensation, perception, volitions and consciousness, impermanent, suffering, non-self.” Thereupon she said to herself: “In that case he would find fault even with my own form, so beautiful to look upon and so fair to see.” Therefore she avoided meeting the Teacher face to face.

Now the residents of Sāvatthī, having given alms early in the morning, took upon themselves the observance of the Observance Day. In the evening, clad in spotless upper garments and bearing garlands and flowers in their hands, they assembled at Jetavana to hear the Dhamma. And the community of bhikkhunīs also, desiring to hear the Dhamma, went to the monastery and heard the Dhamma. And having heard the Dhamma, they entered the city, praising the virtues of the Teacher as they entered.

Rūpanandā

For there are four standards of judgment prevailing among persons who dwell together in the world. However, there are very few persons in whom the sight of the Realised One does not arouse a feeling of satisfaction. Those who judge by what they see, look upon [29.337] the golden-hued body of the Realised One, adorned with the major marks and the minor marks, and are satisfied with what they see. {3.114} Those who judge by what they hear, listen to the report of the Teacher’s virtues through many hundreds of births, and to his voice, endowed with the eight excellences, in the teaching of the Dhamma, and are satisfied with what they hear. Those who judge by austerities are satisfied with his austere robes and so forth. Those whose standard of judgment is righteousness reflect: “Such is the uprightness of the One of Ten Strengths, such is his concentration, such is his wisdom; in uprightness and concentration and wisdom the Fortunate One is without an equal, is without a peer.” Thus they also are satisfied. Indeed those who praise the virtues of the Realised One lack words wherewith to tell their praises.

Rūpanandā listened to the bhikkhunīs and the female lay disciples as they recited the praises of the Realised One, and having listened, said to herself: “In extravagant terms do they tell the praises of my brother. Suppose he were to find fault with my beauty of form during one single day. How much could he say in that length of time? Suppose I were to go with the bhikkhunīs, and without letting myself be seen, look upon the Realised One, hear him teach the Dhamma, and then return?” So she said to the bhikkhunīs: “Today I too will go and hear the Dhamma.” {3.115} The bhikkhunīs said: “It has taken a long time to arouse in Rūpanandā a desire to wait upon the Teacher. Today, by reason of her, the Teacher will teach the Dhamma with details many and various.” And with delighted hearts, taking her with them, they set out.

From the moment Rūpanandā started out, she kept thinking to herself: “I will not let him see who I am.” The Teacher thought to himself: “Today Rūpanandā will come to pay her respects to me; what manner of lesson will do her the most good?” As he considered the matter further, he came to the following conclusion: “This woman thinks a great deal of her beauty of form and is deeply attached to her own person. It will therefore be of advantage to her if I crush out the pride she feels in her beauty of form, by beauty of form itself, even as one draws out one thorn with another thorn.”

Hiding in the Crowd

Accordingly, when it was time for her to enter the monastery, the Teacher put forth his supernatural power and created a young woman about sixteen years of age. Surpassing beauty did she possess; she wore crimson garments; she was adorned with all her ornaments, and stood before the Teacher with fan in hand, swinging the fan back and forth. [29.338]

Now both the Teacher and Rūpanandā beheld this woman. As Rūpanandā entered the monastery with the bhikkhunīs, she took her place behind the bhikkhunīs, worshipped the Teacher with the five limbs, and sat down among the bhikkhunīs. Having so done, she surveyed from head to foot the person of the Teacher, richly brilliant with the major marks, resplendent with the minor marks, surrounded by a halo a fathom in extent.

Then she saw the created image of a woman standing near the Teacher and surveyed her face, glorious as the full moon. {3.116} Having surveyed this woman, she surveyed her own person and compared herself to a crow standing before a royal goose of golden hue. For from the moment she looked upon this created image, created by supernatural power, her eyes rolled back and forth. “Oh, how beautiful is her hair! Oh, how beautiful is her forehead!” she exclaimed. She was fascinated by the glorious beauty of every part of her body, and she became possessed with intense desire for equal beauty herself.

The Teacher, observing that she was fascinated by the beauty of the woman, proceeded to teach her the Dhamma. First he transformed the woman from a maiden about sixteen years of age to a woman about twenty years of age. Rūpanandā surveyed her form again, was quickly filled with a feeling of disappointment, and said to herself: “This form is by no means the same as it was before.” Gradually the Teacher transformed her, first into a woman who had given birth to one child, then into a woman of middle life, finally into a decrepit old woman. Rūpanandā watched every stage of the transformation, saying to herself: “Now this has disappeared, now that has disappeared.” When, however, she saw her transformed into a decrepit old woman, and surveyed her standing there, teeth broken, hair gray, body bent, as crooked as a rafter, forced to lean on a cane, trembling in every limb, she was filled with utter disgust.

Then the Teacher caused disease to overmaster the woman. Casting away her cane and her palm-leaf fan, she screamed aloud, fell upon the ground, and rolled over and over, wallowing in her own urine and excrement. Rūpanandā looked upon her and was filled with utter disgust. {3.117}

Then the Teacher showed the death of that woman. Straightaway her body began to bloat. From its nine wound-like openings oozed pus in the shape of lamp-wicks, and also worms. Crows and dogs fell on her and tore her apart. Rūpanandā looked and thought: “In this very place this woman has come to old age, has come to disease, has come to death. Even so, to this body of mine, [29.339] will come old age, disease, and death.” Thus did she come to behold her own body in its impermanence; and as a result of beholding her own body in its impermanence, she likewise saw her body as involved in suffering, and the non-self thereof.

Straightaway the three realms of existence, like houses set on fire, or like carrion tied to her neck, uprose before her, and her mind sprang forth to meditation. The Teacher, perceiving that she had beheld her own body in its impermanence, considered within himself: “Will she, or will she not, by herself be able to get a firm footing?” Straightaway he became aware of the following: “She will not be able; she must have support from without.” Accordingly, out of consideration for her welfare, he taught her the Dhamma by pronouncing the following verses:

The Three Realms of Existence

Diseased, impure, putrid,
behold, Nandā, the body,
overflowing and oozing,
desired by the foolish.

As is this, so is that,
as is that, so is this,
behold the empty elements,
do not return back to the world,
casting aside any desire
for existence, walk in peace. {3.118}

Thus, with reference to the bhikkhunī Nandā, did the Fortunate One pronounce these verses.

Directing her thoughts in a way conformable to his teaching, Nandā attained the fruition of Stream-entry. Thereupon the Teacher, desiring that she should dwell upon the three paths and the three fruitions, and desiring to teach her to meditate upon the void, said to her: “Nandā, think not that there is an essence in this body; for there is not the least essence in this body. This body is but a city of bones, made by hoisting three hundred bones.” So saying, he pronounced the following verse:

150. Aṭṭhīnaṁ nagaraṁ kataṁ,
maṁsalohitalepanaṁ,
yattha jarā ca maccu ca,
māno makkho ca ohito.

This fortress is made out of bones,
plastered over with flesh and blood,
but hidden within lie old age,
death, also conceit and anger. {3.119}

At the end of the teaching that elder reached Arahatship, and many people had benefit from the Dhamma teaching.

This fortress is made out of bones